Flash Fiction:The League of Evil Advisors

And here’s a flashback from Jon, our dear Fairy Godmother’s own prince charming (literally – his last name is Charming).

The League of Evil Advisors

By Jenniffer Wardell

Ten-year-old Prince Rupert insisted their tutor was evil, based solely on the man’s thin, twirling mustache. His younger brother Jon told him not to be an idiot – a certain type of facial hair doesn’t mean someone’s a bad guy.

Of course, it also doesn’t mean he isn’t. 

000

“Pssst.”

Jon turned at the sound, which he hadn’t known anyone actually made in real life. He saw his and Rupert’s tutor standing in a shadowed corner, urging Jon closer. “Your Highness,” the man whispered. “I need to talk to you.”

Sighing, Jon walked toward him. Being a sensible boy, he stopped just out of arms reach.

After making sure no one was around to overhear, the tutor whispered, “Have you ever heard of the League of Evil Advisors?” When the young prince shook his head, the man smiled. “Good. We’re a super-secret brotherhood, and it would be unfortunate if word got around.” He handed Jon a card with the League’s name printed on it in fancy gold script. “I’m here to offer you an official invitation to join.”

Jon studied the card. It didn’t seem terribly secret. “I’m only eight.”

“Yes, but you’re the intelligent younger brother of a moron who’s one day going to be running the country you deserve.” The tutor shook his head. Jon suspected he was remembering Rupert’s last homework assignment. “You’re perfect.”

Jon thought about all the evil advisors he’d heard of. His grandmother had kept one for awhile, but that was before Jon had been born. According to her, she’d had to execute the man when he’d tried to assassinate her. “Would I have to kill people?”

The tutor seemed surprised at the question. “Well, that’s normally how it’s done, but I suppose it’s not a requirement. The details would really be left up to you.”

Jon tried to picture overthrowing Rupert. It wouldn’t be all that hard, and if he imprisoned Rupert in a party he didn’t think his brother would really even mind.

But if Jon was king, then he’d have to go to all the other parties. His mother always forced him to wear shiny clothes that made his neck itch.

He shook his head, handing the tutor back the card. “No thank you.”

“But… you’d be perfect! It’s your destiny!”

Jon sighed again. His mother often got like this, but he’d hoped she was the only one. “You know, people who are part of secret leagues really shouldn’t shout like that.” 

Then he walked away, leaving his tutor staring after him.

A Handbook for Supervillains: No Capes

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So You Want To Rule The World

No Capes, or Edna Mode Was Right

When creating your villainous look, one of the greatest temptations besetting those starting into the evil life is the cape. Whether you’re fighting a costumed crusader or styling yourself as the evil  overlord of your Eastern European country of choice, it’s easy to imagine yourself sweeping aside some long black cloak as you order someone executed or cackle about how you have the hero in your clutches. (Note: Many of those cape/cloak fantasies probably include revealing your evil plan to the hero, just so you can bask in how clever you are. A later chapter will discuss why this is in fact one of the dumbest things you, as a villain, can do.)

Fight this temptation, young evildoer. Capes are a relic of a bygone era, and will not only limit your flexibility as a villain but also hamper you should worst come to worst and you end up in a fistfight. A flunkie who has designs on your power can also easily take you out if you hamper yourself with a large sweep of fabric attached to your neck. Though you can find ways around it – electricity sticks are a fun choice, and can be adapted to match any color scheme  – why open yourself up to the possibility? If you’d like, you can electrocute them anyway and not worry about your life being at risk.

Beyond the practical applications, capes also add an element of cheesiness to your villainous persona that will inevitably limit the kind of heroes you attract and your ability to terrify the greatest possible swath of the populace. Dracula used to be terrifying, peering over his cape as he hypnotized innocent women into baring their necks, but these days his classic profile is little more than a parody or a kids’ cereal mascot. Loki can get away with it, but anyone else who wanted to do the same thing would also have to rant like a mad god, which can get tiring.

Capes – especially fur capes, which are the kiss of death unless you happen to have wandered into a medieval fantasy world – are no longer terrifying to modern audiences. Don’t let yourself become a relic, or if you do at least do something fun to get there like attempting to steal the moon.

Next: The Underwear Question, or It Didn't Work For Batman