Villains Deception

by M. K. Gibson

  VILLAINS DECEPTION

  by

  M. K. Gibson

  Copyright © 2018 by Michael K. Gibson

  Published by

  Amber Cove Publishing

  PO Box 9605

  Chesapeake, VA 23321

  Cover design by S.E. Tonx

  Cover lettering by Michael K. Gibson

  Book design by Jim Bernheimer

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

  Visit the author’s website at www.mkgibson.com

  First Publication: December 2018

  Dedication and Acknowledgments

  I have taken over this slot for my own purposes. Yes, dear reader, it is I, Jackson Blackwell, your beloved Shadow Master. Instead of MK Gibson once again thanking his family, friends, and wife for supporting him, I decided to delete that crap. Instead, I wanted this slot to acknowledge certain people and to offer them thanks, straight from the Shadow Master himself.

  As this is the third book of my recorded adventures, I’ve gained many loyal supporters. But it is not they to whom I am speaking. No, I speak instead to those who have been exceptionally negative towards my work. Not the standard one- and two-star reviewers. No no no. I am specifically thanking those people who only left a one- or two-star review for either the ebook, paperback, or audiobook for Villains Rule or Villains Pride . . . and nothing else! Seriously, some people were so enraged or offended by my antics that they left a crap review, having NEVER reviewed anything else! Do you understand how awesome for me, and pathetic for them, that is?

  So from the bottom of my black heart, thank you. Your money was gladly accepted. Your wails of anguish are the white noise to which I fall blissfully asleep. And the tears of rage you shed while you slapped away at your keyboard to leave your stupid, stupid reviews are the lubricant with which I masturbate. Mostly to the fact that I am so much better than you.

  The ever classy

  J. J. Blackwell

  Foreword

  Pre-Epilogue . . . err, the . . .“Prepilogue”?

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Where I Introduce Myself, Provide a Summary, and Justify Planeticide

  Chapter Two

  Where I Council an Alien, Mock Higher Education, and Make America Great Again

  Chapter Three

  Where I Call a God, Suffer a Crisis of Faith, and Get Rid of a Problem

  Chapter Four

  Where I Explain Why PC Enthusiasts Are Wrong, Reduce Sci-Fi Stories to Their Basic Humors, and Enjoy Fatherhood

  Chapter Five

  Where I Learn Space Terms, Swallow More Than My Pride, and Suffer

  Chapter Six

  Where I Appreciate Art, Reward Homework, and Call for a Ride

  Chapter Seven

  Where I Chat With a Friend, Ponder Astrophysics, and Take an Oath

  Chapter Eight

  Where I Take a Tour, Confront a Friend, and Plug Web-Based Pornography

  Chapter Nine

  Where Clients Are Killed, Mascots Are Announced, and Decisions Are Made

  Chapter Ten

  Where I Eat Humble Pie, Suffer an Intervention, and Schedule a Meeting

  Chapter Eleven

  Where I Take a Walk, Chat with a Neighbor, and Grin and Bear It

  Chapter Twelve

  Where I Get Snarky with the Supreme Being, Grovel, and Compare Life to Netflix

  Chapter Twelve and a Half

  Where I Bestow a Gift, Reenact a Shane Black Movie, and Move the Plot Along

  Chapter Thirteen

  Where I Find a Hive of Scum and Villainy, Buy Some Drinks, and Threaten To Kill Four People

  Chapter Fourteen

  Where I Follow Through on a Threat, Watch a Kerfuffle, and Look for Lost Jewelry

  Chapter Fourteen and a Half

  Where The Joke’s on Me and I Ponder Exercise

  Chapter Fifteen

  Where I Drop Knowledge on Running, Exploit a Loophole, and Run into an Acquaintance

  Chapter Sixteen

  Where I Suffer a Gunshot, Work on My Marriage, and Make It Rain

  Chapter Seventeen

  Where I Have a Heart-to-Heart, Expound Upon Tactile Toggles, and Talk to My Engine

  Chapter Seventeen and a half

  Where I Make a Modification, Enjoy Butthole Humor, and Reveal Personal Truths

  Chapter Eighteen

  Where We Reach Our Destination, I Stand Up for Gender Roles, and I Exploit Bad Cyber Security

  Chapter Nineteen

  Where Sophia and I Have a Chat, Plan a Parade in My Honor, and Establish a Pecking Order

  Chapter Twenty

  Where I Threaten an Alien, Repress My Emotions, and Ponder the Perineal Area

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Where Saviors Abound, Linguistics Is Key, and Specific Numbers Are Important

  Chapter Twenty-One and a Half

  Where I Explain Why Specific Numbers Are Important

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Where Science and Fiction Meet, Parenting Skills Are Displayed, and I Learn the Next Step

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Where I Hop Genres, Display Poor Marksmanship, and Reveal Naming Conventions

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Where I Discuss Pack Tactics, Mock Male Pattern Baldness, and Go for a Swim

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Where I Counsel My Minion, Discuss an Ex-Girlfriend, and Prepare for a Party

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Where We Suffer a Living Wiki, We Receive Vampire Tips, and I Get Scolded

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Where We Arrive in Fashion, Bluff a Ringmaster, and Learn That Wendell Does Accents

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Where the Geeks Inherit the Earth and Screw It Up, And I Jump to the Head of the Line

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Where I Finally Get Noticed, Throw Wraith Knight Under the Bus, and Make a Threat

  Chapter Thirty

  Where I Discuss Heist Movies, Compare Crazy Cat Ladies to Vampire Lovers, and Summon an Army

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Where I Greet a Trope, Call Out Bad Storytelling, and Get Rid of Some Dead Weight

  Chapter Thirty-One and a Half

  Where I Ponder Wendell’s Fate

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Where We Cast a Spell, Admit to Being Bested by a Vibrator, and Pull a Fast One

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Where I Discuss Hollywood Elites, Watch a Cartoon, and Take a Picture

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Where I Find Land, Find My Inner Strength, and Find an Accomplice

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Where I Improvise, Make a Call, and Make a Sacrifice

  Chapter Thirty-Five and a Half

  Where I Teach You Two New Words

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Where I Say Goodbye to the One I Love, Try To Save Face, and Have a Drink

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Where I Am Greeted by a New Employee, Confront an Old Enemy, and Smash Teacups

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Where I Exercise My Second Amendment Rights, Morakesh Breaks the Tension, and Truths Are Revealed

  Chapter Thirty-Eight and a Half

  Where I Defend Typos and Am Momentarily Flat-Footed

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Where I Suit Up, Reflect Upon My Personal Growth, and See a Familiar Face

  Chapter Thirty-Nine and a Half

  Where I Am Touched b
y an Angel and Get the Last Word

  Chapter Forty

  Where the Stage Is Set, I Address the Virtue of Independent Media, and I Receive a Non-Surprise

  Chapter Forty-One

  Where Watch My Enemies Gloat, Have a Multifaceted Conversation, Find Fault in Unreal Synchronicity, and Finally Find a Use for Bad Art

  Chapter Forty-Two

  Where A Conversation Is Revealed, A Message Is Sent, and a Monthly Desire Is Known

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Where I Stare Down My Enemies, Open Fire, and Fly

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Where I Vomit, Get a Lay of the Land, and Prove That I’m Not a Poet

  Chapter Forty-Five

  Where I Am on the Run, Get a Plushy, and Need New Underwear

  Chapter Forty-Six

  Where I Discuss My Reading Habits, Channel the Good Han Solo, and Take Advantage of Angry Boners

  Chapter Forty-Seven

  Where Therapy Is Needed, I Reaffirm My Commitment to Fatherhood, and an Alarm Sounds

  Chapter Forty-Eight

  Where I Drop It Like It’s Hot, Bare My Soul, and Say Goodbye

  Chapter Forty-Nine

  Where the Twist Is Revealed and I Blame You for Not Seeing It Sooner

  Epilogue . . . the Real one

  About the Author

  Foreword

  I’m not a writer. When MK Gibson asked me to write this forward I was honestly terrified, so I kept it short and sweet. As a massive fan of this series, I’ve been eagerly awaiting the third book’s release.

  I have read Tolkien, I have read Adams, and I have even attempted to read Martin. All fiction writers that have crafted beautiful complex worlds that carry their readers through amazing stories. This is the base of the Villains series. These books are a fantastic examination of fantasy and science fiction. MK Gibson takes an understood universe and drops one of us into it. But not just any one of us. He created the best of us. Gibby’s deep understanding of how lore is structured and crafted is where the comedy and genius of The Shadow Master is born. A character that has no problem dissecting the overlooked racial undertones often hidden in some our favorite fantasy world (Elves are super racist, think about it!).

  Every year for Christmas I get my younger brother a couple of books. This year I bought him Villains Rule and Villains Pride, a testament to the fact that these novels can be enjoyed by both adults and teens.

  Thank you for supporting this phenomenal author.

  Kevin Coello

  Technical Operations Manager at KindaFunny.com,

  @KindaFunnyKevin

  Patreon.com/KindaFunny

  Pre-Epilogue . . . err, the . . .“Prepilogue”?

  (Look, I know books begin with prologues, just go with me on this. This Prepilogue technically takes place after the book. It’ll make sense in the end. I promise.)

  In the vastness of space and time exists a hidden dark place.

  Nestled between the real world and all that is fantastical is a very special pocket dimension. If your villainous need is great, then the dimension is easy to find. It’s right past the end of the internet and to the left of the dimension that leaches the intelligence from people, causing them to use the word “irregardless.”

  Oh, if you hit the Starbucks at the edge of the event horizon, you went too far. Gods above and below, those things are everywhere, aren’t they? But who doesn’t love a nice trenta iced coffee?

  No, the dimension that villains seek is the one where Jackson Blackwell, the Shadow Master, resides. Villains from every genre make the pilgrimage, seeking his guidance and wisdom. They come to him as empty vessels and leave filled with new villainous insight and knowledge. In other words, they paid through the nose to get villain tips. These newly empowered villains go forth and become better than they ever were.

  Huh. When you think about it, it’s kinda like that one show where the angry British chef yells at restaurant owners and makes them better. Hmm . . . maybe this idea isn’t that original.

  Meh. A sale’s a sale.

  Inside this little dimension of villainous superiority, an ultra-modern building sits atop a lone barren mountain, seemingly floating in a void.

  It’s pretty cool.

  And there lies Blackwell Inc., Villain Consulting Agency. And, yes, for the savvy reader of the previous books, the name of the company was changed from Evil Consulting Agency to Villain Consulting Agency. The word “evil” was attracting all the wrong sorts. Sure, some villains are evil. But you should have seen the transient dregs the agency was attracting with the word “evil.”

  Woof, and you think drunk Bostonians who like Mark Wahlberg’s “acting” are annoying? Try fending off narrowed-eyed psychos who think a comedy book should be one step removed from the Necronomicon.

  The re-branding allowed for a larger clientele to come, seeking the Shadow Master’s expertise. Which leads us to now. Where the executive board members of a very famous, and very powerful, movie studio sit in consultation with Mr. Blackwell to discuss a certain beloved movie franchise and the direction in which to take it.

  Oh, wait, if we’re going to do this, let’s do this right. Ahem . . .

  . . . Not Very Long Ago, In a Dimension That’s Far, Far Away

  It was a dark time for the movie studio. Despite the financial success of the franchise relaunch, internet nerds, never satisfied, continued to compare the old and the new. An online rebellion had begun. The comments section of every major website became a chaotic warzone, a civil war of nerd-on-nerd hatred. Cries of “Mary Sue” and “It was just like the first one!” rang across the galaxy . . . well, maybe just Reddit. But that’s not the point.

  A covert council of executives secreted away their latest plans, seeking the council of the one they called “Shadow Master.” This cabal sought his infamous guidance, having heard of his powerful ways of FORCING people to bend to his will. This rebellion of executives endured a lobby with a barely functional coffee maker, and the smell of the ever-present Dread Lich Lord Morakesh, who’s been waiting for an audience for three books now. Their only barrier to entry was an appointment, and the guardian of the Shadow Master’s schedule: Sophia the Cruel.

  In a last-ditch effort to create a movie that would silence the billions of voices crying out, the rag-tag executives awaited the arrival of the dark lord . . .

  (Psst . . . this is the part where the camera lurches downward and into Jackson’s office, while that dreamy music plays.)

  ********

  With my back to the gathered people in my conference room, I slowly rotated in my chair for maximum dramatic effect. I held a lit cigarette, one of the black ones with the silver tips, and smiled.

  “Hello. I am Jackson Blackwell, The Shadow Master. You’ve come seeking my aid. And--”

  “Sir, your two o’clock appointment is here,” Sophia said, her voice buzzing over the intercom.

  “I know, Sophia,” I sighed. “I--I’m literally right here.”

  “In your conference room.”

  “Yes.”

  “With the clients?

  “ . . . Yes.”

  “Oh,” Sophia said. “Did you do the villainous slow turn?”

  I rubbed at my forehead. “Yes.”

  “How’d it go? Did they look awe-inspired and terrified?”

  “Sophia . . .”

  “I ruined the mood, didn’t I, sir?”

  “Yes, yes you did.”

  “Oh. Would you like to try again? I can make everyone leave the room and you can start over?” Sophia asked in her most annoyingly chipper voice.

  “No, Sophia, I think the moment has passed.”

  “Huh. It’s almost like I’m out to get you.”

  I smiled at the group, who shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to respond to the interruption. They didn’t know my receptionist was also an all-powerful djinn who had vowed to destroy my family because my parents were the ones who found and enslaved her. You know, that old chestnut.

>   But I couldn’t stay mad at her. She was—and don’t let my wife hear this—my best friend. Sure, she plotted to destroy me one day, but what friend doesn’t? All friends secretly love and hate each other. You damn well know you’ve said mean things about your friend, be it their weight, their lives, their ability to parent, or simply their mental acumen.

  And guess what? They’ve said worse about you. I know . . . I have their texts and intercepted phone calls. It isn’t pretty.

  “I could hold off on my vengeance a while longer, sir,” Sophia offered, “if I had a new coffee maker.”

  “What’s wrong with the one we have?”

  “I like the coffee pod kind,” Sophia said.

  “Do you have any idea what those do to the environment?” I asked.

  “Do we care?”

  “Ha, no!” I laughed. “Sure, go ahead and order one. Let’s see if Amazon Prime can find a pocket dimension.”

  “You’d be surprised, sir.”

  I nodded. That company really was veritable bastion of villainy. Undercut everyone, put brick and mortar stores out of business, then have the gall to open your own actual store? Brilliant and cruel. Gods above and below, I love that bald billionaire.

  I turned to the Hollywood executives sitting along the table. They looked exceptionally nervous. That was odd. I turned around and looked behind me to see my latest minions, the seven-foot, black-armored Wraith Knight and the shape-shifting femme fatale Myst, standing off in the corner of the dark and shadowy boardroom.

  They could be seen as scary, in the right light. Perhaps it was the fact that they were standing over a trio of sobbing and weeping men and women in ridiculously expensive suits. I looked back at the executives while thumbing a shoulder at the scene behind me.

  “Is that bothering you all?”

  One of the executives, a mature woman who seemed to be control, nodded. “Frankly, yes.”

  “Huh.” I pursed my lips. “Why?”

  She looked at me like I was an idiot. “Well, they look like . . . they’re in pain?”

  “Oh, that? Heh, yes. Yes they are,” I said flatly, while nodding my head. “Immense amounts.”