The Supervillain Field Manual

by King Oblivion, Ph. D.

  A lot of people never get to experience that feeling because they aren’t me (if you haven’t figured it out yet, I never lose). But, occasionally, things happen for them.

  Supervillain FAQ: What’s the evilest way to travel?

  We can’t all benefit from the powers of portal generation, the ability to travel through mirrors, reality manipulation, or even super-speed and flight. Some of us have to motor.

  But how to best get around? This depends on your style, and on which setbacks you’re most willing to endure.

  Consider these options:

  A Car

  Are you a street-level type of person? Do you hate fancy things that travel in the air or on water? Are you on a very limited budget? A quick paint job, some body modifications, and the addition of wheel spikes to an old Toyota Tercel should cover you.

  A Motorcycle

  Do you wish you got more bugs in your mouth while driving a car? Here’s your answer. Also: Popping wheelies is awesome.

  Your Own Train

  Beautifully ostentatious and severely impractical. Pretty damn perfect for a supervillain. Just be sure, though, that you don’t really want to go anywhere but lumberyards and warehouses.

  A Tank

  Steady, strong, and heavily armed. Not a bad choice, but not well-suited for getaways. Also, superheroes love bending tank guns to show off how strong they are. It’s really like their favorite thing to do. So beware of that.

  A Private Plane or Helicopter

  Great for villains who like to escape by jumping onto hanging rope ladders or driving a motorcycle into a docking bay. Also appeals to those villains who outright don’t give one single damn about air traffic rules (which is most of us).

  A Hovering Glider

  If your supervillain name has the word “goblin” in it, you’re contractually required to use one of these. So get on it.

  A Jetpack

  Mind having feet that are on fire? Because your feet will almost always be on fire. Though you’ll be the envy of anyone who complains about it not yet being the future.

  A Boat

  There are lots of places to rob on the coast, rivers, fjords, by inlets, in and around lakes, or in sounds. If you have no interest in committing crimes in places other than those, go for this.

  A Submarine

  All the limitations of a boat, plus inner-ear pain. But hey, torpedoes!

  Teleportation Devices

  You may not have the power to teleport yourself, but that doesn’t mean you can’t kidnap some brainiac to fix up a machine for you. But make sure this brainiac is someone who knows how to make teleportation devices.*

  A Balloon of Some Sort

  Balloons look awesome. They’re huge, they look super-imposing, and you can adorn them with spikes and all kinds of other intimidating shit to really up the ante. Plus, you’re just up there, hovering over everyone, making them wonder what you’re going to drop on them. (My suggestion would be some kind of especially pungent stink bomb. That’s nothing but fun.) The downside? It’s a balloon. It can be popped. Somebody’s probably going to pop it. Weighed against all the cool I parts, it’s a tough call.

  A Rocket Ship

  Excellent, if precise landings are not in your top ten travel requirements. Also, rather lengthy takeoffs.

  A Plain Old Rocket

  Do you wish you got more birds in your mouth when you’re flying a rocket ship? Here’s your answer. Jump right on top of this sucker and go.

  A Rocket-Powered Skateboard

  On the one hand, it’d be very fun to ride around. On the other, Rocket Racer can be a real litigious cat about his calling card. Watch out for him.

  A Giant, Tank-Like, Mechanical Spider

  I can honestly think of no potential problems with this vehicle. It’s basically perfect.

  Of course, it would be far too easy for the battle to be over when you finally shame that superhero that’s been a thorn in your side for years, sending them into exile or into the ground and taking over your immediate area. Not only do you have to actually make some decisions while you’re in charge,* you also have to handle yourself in a winnerly way. Going too far off the deep end with a celebration is almost certainly going to result in some sort of ironic-yet-deserved comeuppance coming at you tout suite.

  Avoid tempting the hand of Fate, that cheap bastard. Cheer, but cheer prudently. As my old mentor, Dr. Blattarius, used to say, “Waving your arms around like some kind of happy person is an easy way to get kicked in the junk.”

  What to Do

  Gloating

  The first thing you’re going to want to do when you finally smash The Masked Mightyman or one of his “friends” with a giant mallet is to start shouting at the heavens about how you knew this day would come, and that you are the greatest and most brilliant force of badness that has ever lived. You may think I’m going to tell you that you shouldn’t do that,* but I quite enthusiastically encourage this.

  Here’s why: Words are cheap. It doesn’t cost you much of anything to say them, and while you’re in celebration mode, there are likely going to be some people who aren’t otherwise inclined to listen to you who may perk up their ears. Wiping out a superhero team by infiltrating them with a secret robot member you control, or successfully sending your city back to the sixteenth century is a damn effective way of getting some attention.

  Seize That Attention

  Look, if nothing else, you’ll build up your rep for being a supervillain to contend with. Like I said in Chapter 2, the more times you repeat something, the more inclined people will be to believe it. That’s especially true if your most recent act is one that, no shit, succeeded. Milk it. Go on every news channel. Hold huge public events at stadiums. Appoint your henchmen to radio stations you forcefully take over, so they can talk about you on air. Fly dirigibles over the city with your name written on them. Put up loudspeakers everywhere that repeat over and over, at all hours of the day, that you are the supreme power. You’ll be creating more insomniacs, who are constantly thinking about you and your various rays of fluctuating temperatures all night long.

  Experiencing victory often gives supervillains (and anyone else who is egotistically inclined) the feeling that they’re invincible and cannot be touched by anyone. You should know that it’s actually quite the contrary. A major consequence of winning is that you, with the one harmless act of severely maiming a superhero or turning the city’s government buildings and officials into Legos®, are putting a giant target on your back. Huge. Everyone’s going to want to come after you. Superheroes from all over the world, other supervillains, what’s left of the police, the National Guard, the UN, the Space Cops,* you name it.

  So what do you do? My suggestion would be to round up as many of those people as you can and put them in a gulag of some sort, preferably as far away from you as they can possibly be. Maybe one that’s also microscopically small? Just throwing out ideas here.

  Your other option is to bunker down in a nigh-impenetrable fortress, surrounded by loyal lackeys who are willing to take the harshest of sound-barrier breaking punches and the shiniest of Space Cop asteroid glitter attacks for you.

  Prepare for Your Loyal Lackeys to Turn on You

  Maybe they’ll envy your position of power. Maybe they’ll grow tired of the constant gloating that you should be doing all the time and not even thinking about. Maybe they’re simply taking advantage of the first time that you’ve slept outside of a vacuum-sealed chamber in nearly a decade (more on that in a bit). Whatever the reason, you’re bound to have a few good apples in the bunch who want to spoil everything. Alert your henchmen and the other denizens of your lair and/or fortress to be on the lookout for any funny business.

  You should make sure to tell them, “If you see something, say something . . . or you’ll never see or say ever again . . . or hear or feel or taste.” They should take the hint that they’ll be dead for disobeying you. That should be clear enough.

  Eat Some Cake


  See? I’m not entirely inhuman and focused on business. Indulge in some cake, you’ve earned it. (Check it for poison, though. And probably stand up while you’re eating. Also, damnation, make sure it’s chocolate. Vanilla is a bullshit hero flavor and you know it. Have some standards, for Christ’s sake.)

  WORST PRACTICE IN ACTION: Kraven Buries His Enemy

  There was this one time that Kraven the Hunter shot Spider-Man and buried him. Like, beat him cold. It was amazing. Kraven’s response was a little odd; he dressed up as Spider-Man and went around the city trying to prove he was better in every conceivable way. But, hey, it’s a form of gloating. Of course Spider-Man eventually was revived (Kraven shot him with a tranquilizer because he wanted to prove to Spider-Man’s face he was his better), and Kraven called it quits as his enemy’s better.

  Theaching Moment: Kraven figured out a way to go out like a boss: as a winner. If you can manage this (preferably without messily killing yourself like Kraven had to), then go for it.

  What Not to Do

  Relax

  In addition to feeling invincible, winners also tend to get these wild notions in their heads that, with one mark in the “W” column, they’ve somehow gained license to sleep like a normal human being or sit down in a chair that isn’t covered with live grenades. Those people are kidding themselves! I should have made it abundantly clear to you by now that everyone who could have any interest in coming after you will do so once they get word of your triumph.

  The only thing winning should do is make you even more inclined to sleep with one eye open, and preferably, mounted on the outside of your headquarters where you can see the surrounding area from a decent vantage point. (We’ve got a guy who can do detachable eyes. Let me know if you’re interested.) Any relaxation you do should be in a sealed chamber that only you can enter and leave. And it won’t hurt to create a clone of yourself to watch over you while you sleep, as long as you can ensure that you can easily self-destruct that sucker the second they start making dollar-sign eyes at you. (Like I said, clones are just terrible.)

  Overreach

  You may be inclined to think that you can pull off an even bigger plan once you’ve succeeded with one. Like, maybe this time you can threaten another, larger city with an even bigger sentient case of gonorrhea, and take it over. Hold that thought, Cheetah-O.*

  Now is no time to go on offense; at least, not physically. You can attack with words all you want, but shifting your attention to anything but spatial defense right now is sure folly. Superheroes in other cities are going to amass against you and take you down the moment you’re most vulnerable. You’ll look like an imbecile and lose all the bad will you’ve gained from your victory. Plus, when you’re acting, you’re not talking, and you remember how I am about that. Don’t test me.

  Expect the Superhero You Vanquished to Stay That Way

  You think we’re the only ones who don’t stay dead or otherwise incapacitated? Superheroes come back all the time, my delusional friend. They are real bastards that way. So get in your rep-building where you can, eat that piece of cake standing up, and keep an eye on the news. The second you hear that your arch-nemesis has miraculously returned from whatever fate you resigned them to, blow out of there for a while. Head underground, underwater, or to another dimension for a month or two. Let that musclebrain cool off for a spell, because they always come back mad. Dying or being sent to a psychological wasteland of unspeakable terrors really sends them overboard for some weird reason.

  Then, when you’re hiding out, that’s when you can have a nice nap.

  Blast That Bias: How to Spin Beating the “Good Guys”

  People are weird. They tend to get all protective of superheroes just because they save an elderly relative of theirs from getting crushed by the door of a bank vault, or they put some giant sculpture back on top of a building after you knock it off with a helicopter, or they manage to stop the river of lava coming down Main Street, or they stop the Main Street you brought to life from extinguishing a friendly lava monster. It’s a really strange inclination people have.

  So when you send one of those precious heroes to their doom, some folks really go off the deep end. They get all up on the TV to talk about how you’ve ruined society as we know it or they’ll write articles about how you should be removed from your throne atop the Hellspire you summoned to the center of the city. Sometimes, they have problems with Hellspires, too. No accounting for taste, I guess.

  In some ways, those wrongheaded people are doing your job for you. They’re spreading the word about your infamous and destructive deeds, almost certainly informing people who only had a vague idea of your evil about the depths of dastardliness you can truly achieve. But here’s the deal: You sort of have to manage this stuff. Keeping people paralyzed with fear is great. The thing you have to avoid is mobilizing them. Nobody’s going to benefit from a huge mob of regular schmucks charging at your lair in the middle of the night. That’s merely another hassle to deal with.

  How do you strike that balance? The key is to keep people afraid, but try to keep them from becoming enraged, with stuff like this:

  Dig Up Some Dirt on the Superhero You Defeated and Make It Public

  Maybe she cheated on her husband one time or he constantly scolded people for not eating the low-fat version of some snack food. Whatever it is, make sure the superhero looks like a hypocrite, nitpicker, or just an unpleasant person to hang out with. It doesn’t even have to be anything major. People are vindictive as hell. They’ll lose their boners for any big-name role model in a second, based on any minor, perceived slight against them. They’re more like us than they think, really.

  Make Up Some Dirt

  If, in the event that you can find absolutely nothing incriminating about the superhero in question (and, really, there’s bound to be something; really dig and then dig harder), make something up. Sure, it’ll get refuted later, but for now, during your moment of victory, you’ll be able to slide it past them. They ate some puppies, maybe? See how far you can go.*

  Stage a Stunt

  Send a bus full of “children” (your henchmen) careening off a cliff. Rig up some special effects so that you can convincingly swoop in and save them, even if you can’t fly or don’t have super strength. (It honestly doesn’t matter whether the henchmen get hurt or not. Really, who cares?) Make sure every reporter in the city is there to see it. Oh ho ho, who’s the hero now?**

  Make Careful Use of a Plant

  You know how I said you should have your henchmen host all the local radio shows talking about how scary you are? You can take that one step further. Post some of your henchmen at radio stations and TV stations, posing as hosts and anchors, and have them say, in no uncertain terms, that it’s an awful idea to come after you right now. You’ll probably blow everyone up! It’s not cool being blown up, either, so they should probably just stay home all the time, for perpetuity.

  Silence the Shit-Stirrers

  You know the ones. Those few voices that really get people riled up, inspire them to push past their fears, and take action. Literally shoot a silencing ray right into their mouths. That should take care of it. You’ll know which ones are doing the riling because of all their screaming and stuff. Shouldn’t be too hard.

  * And yet, it’s the superheroes that always brood and whine and act like they aren’t having any fun. They are just disgusting.

  * There’s currently no one who can do this. At least, no one I’m willing to tell you about.

  * See Chapter 9

  * I know you think that, because I own your thoughts. You remember.

  Eliminating other Threats

  * Oh yeah, there are Space Cops. They’re basically like other cops, but there from space and enforce space laws. They have weird faces and sometimes have tentacles for arms. They’re generally idiots.

  * If you haven’t heard of him, Cheetah-O is a man whose DNA got crossed with a cheetah and a Cheeto. He’s got the speed of a cheetah and the orang
e, cheese-flavored dust of a Cheeto. When he runs away, he blinds everyone with cheese dust. He’s fast. That’s why I made the reference.

  * More on maligning the character of superheroes and other do-gooders in Chapter 6.

  ** Of course, the risk you’re taking here is that people may actually start to like you rather than fear you. That’s a dilemma I’ll dig into a little deeper in Chapter 9.

  Chapter 4

  Making Alliances

  Most times, supervillainy is a solitary profession. It’s true that you have to surround yourself with dozens—if not hundreds—of slack-jawed idiots you call henchmen basically every day, but you can’t really call them peers or turn to them as confidants or even really think of them as people. They are resources. Like, I don’t know, timber. Timber may be a little smarter, though.

  Anyway, my point is that you don’t generally work with others on a regular basis; unlike superheroes, who will team up at literally the slightest provocation. They can run into each other at the grocery store and decide to team up to buy eggs. It’s sickening. Superheroes also have sidekicks, which, while quite obviously worryingly dangerous for the teenagers, and sometimes children, involved,* does at least offer some form of companionship.† Then, of course, there are the superhero teams; those groups of weirdly-powered stray puzzle pieces who don’t necessarily have what it takes to fight crime themselves, but can join forces with a few others to make it work. Or there are those, super-teams of nothing but heavy hitters that are patently ridiculous and unfair. Those who are invincible or are, like, mythical gods, don’t really need to hang out with seven other similarly overpowered brutes just to smash robots. That’s flat-out absurd.