The Supervillain Field Manual

by King Oblivion, Ph. D.

  With all that unwanted attention focused upon you virtually all day, every day, you’ll quickly learn that the main goal of your tenure as the unquestioned leader of your kingdom will be to extend and continue your tenure as the unquestioned leader of your kingdom. Part of that is pretty intuitive: defense, defense, defense. The other part is something that doesn’t come quite so easily to us supervillains: Actually trying to make people less miserable.

  Protective Measures

  If you did things the proper way and followed my instructions from the last chapter, then you should have a well-sized cadre of henchmen at your disposal to serve as a barrier between you and anyone who might want to come at the king.† But you should take some additional actions once you’ve actually cemented your position as leader for some extra insurance. Do all or most of these things, or you might as well take all the giant oil paintings of your head you were planning to wallpaper all the government buildings with and throw them in the middle of a lake . . . of lava.

  Destroy Bridges and Tunnels

  Seal off the city. Otherwise you’ll get all kinds of military types and attack forces; an egress of people trying to flee you in terror. Yes, this means all the food you’ll have will be well out of date within a short few months and become potentially deadly. But that’s a small price to pay. (For you, personally, have some food flown in.)

  Place a Dome over the City

  Attack forces also have planes .and helicopters and pigeon missiles.* Shut that down right away. Dome the city and keep them out. But, King O., you’re now all simultaneously thinking, what about the food you mentioned just a minute ago? Have an entry bubble that’s protected with a very difficult-to-decipher password. Something like “ENTRY,” or your name. Real head scratchers.

  Cannons

  It’s always prudent to have a few cannons around.

  Dispose of the Dissidents

  You’ll know after a very short period of rule which citizens are the real shit-stirrers. Round those people up, put them on trial in a kangaroo court (if you feel it necessary to have a court at all), and exile them to the bottom of that lake of lava I mentioned a second ago.

  Wipe Yourself off the Map

  You know how to really stop people from bothering you? Make it so they don’t know you’re there! On how many maps have you seen Explosia? I’ll tell you: Zero. That’s because I bribed, threatened, and replaced every mapmaker in the world to keep it off there. Rand McNally has nightmares about me. Sure, it makes it harder to find the closest Arby’s on your smartphone when you get a hankering for some curly fries, but when you’re the ruler, you can put an Arby’s in your house. Why the hell not? (Just be sure to have food flown in for them to use.)

  Go Underground

  If the forces amassed against you somehow manage to get through your dome or rebuild a bridge you destroyed or even dodge all your cannonballs, they still won’t be able to dispose of you if they can’t find you. Build yourself a bunker in an undisclosed location several miles below or outside of the city limits. No one will be the wiser.*

  WORST PRACTICE IN ACTION: Ultron Takes Control of Slorenia

  Evil, genocidal robot Ultron made it easy for himself when he decided to seize control of the tiny Eastern European nation of Slorenia. He up and killed everybody.

  Theaching moment: It may be less of an accomplishment if you have no one to rule over, but taking the Ultron route will certainly mean you are a definitive ruler. You’ve just got to work out wnnt von u/nnt more.**

  Bread and Circuses

  Roman emperors had some really compelling ideas. I mean, a whole bunch of them. For instance, Nero and Caligula were basically proto-supervillains, though Caligula maybe even went beyond behavior even we can condone. The idea that applies to what we’re talking about here is the notion of “bread and circuses”; the idea that keeping people appeased, entertained, and fat will stop them from dissenting. Take a page from their book with these activities in the place you rule:

  Gladiatorial Fights to the Death

  Since the Romans had such great ideas, why not take a page directly from their playbook? People love to see other people who aren’t them torn apart by lions or forced to fight each other until one has the other on the ground, ready to have his or her throat sliced as you make the mortal decision for them. . . . Just as long as they know it’ll never happen to them. So it’s probably best you don’t tell your subjects that they’re all in the pool for the random drawings.

  Free Continental Breakfast Once a Month

  I know. Cereal and eggs can be expensive. But it’s worth the cost once every thirty days to put down any insurgency. Plus, you can lace the coffee with sedatives so that no one gets too uprisy. Put enough in there and you could make them pretty damn downrisy.

  Holidays in Your Honor

  When folks have lives of intense and seemingly unending menial labor—which is what you’re going to have most of your subjects doing here—they start to appreciate really minor things; like single days off. . . . Even if those days are dedicated to exchanging cards with your face on them and purchasing gifts for you. Have one every few weeks, and be sure to make wish lists. If you don’t ask for 1,000 Keurig machines you won’t get 1,000 Keurig machines.

  Biographical Films in the Park

  A thriving art community is very important to people. You should allow any budding filmmakers under your rule to make any film he or she wants . . . as long as it’s a glowing piece of propaganda about your life. Then you can herd people into the park (or the gladiatorial arena) for mandatory movie nights! It’ll be fun!

  The “Internet”

  Your people will want to feel connected to the world at large. Don’t cut them completely off! Make sure all your computational machines in homes and libraries have access to a handful of Internet websites (literally five): The ISS website, WebMD (this way you won’t need to license any doctors), a news website you create,* your Wikipedia page (only the version in the document history you approve and/or wrote, though), and Facebook (but they can only friend their mothers and high school friends who now have annoying opinions they express constantly; this will be a punishment).

  The Sympathy Card

  There may come a time . . . actually, let me correct myself*; there almost certainly will come a time when you are on the ropes. Military or other authorities will break through your defenses and will try to convince your people that they should follow someone who isn’t you. Your henchmen can fend them off for a while, but you can’t keep that going forever. So what do you do? Something no supervillain ever wants to consider doing: Relying on the kindness of others.

  The thing that ultimately gives a leader power is the consent of the people. Of course, I just spent two chapters talking about how to coerce unconsenting people into following you. But maybe, if you last long enough, people will get use to you that they will want you to stay in charge. Even if the situation they’re in is awful, people tend to find change distasteful and scary . . . which is why they’ll defend you if you keep them under your thumb long enough. It’s sort of like collective Stockholm Syndrome. I call it, Latveria Syndrome.

  Last as long as you can and make it happen.†

  One Final Warning

  If you somehow convince the people you rule to like you, be careful not to lose your edge. The last thing you want to become, through some process of bonding with your subjects and learning to love them as they have you, is a benevolent master. If you have to, bring in a few busloads of new subjects every couple months to remind yourself you’re a terrible human being.

  Whatever it takes to ensure you don’t slip out of your groove and lose your dominance.*

  Trust, but Don’t Really Trust: Choosing Your Advisors

  If you recall from the chapters on alliances (and I know you don’t; I can see from your thoughts that your reading comprehension is just atrocious, which is why I have to keep reminding you of things like this, which means you are personally wasting my time),
trust is not a common attribute among supervillains. Nor should it be. The only person you can really trust, ever, is yourself . . . and sometimes, even you can pull some mightily diabolical tricks on various versions of yourself, past, present, and alternate dimension.*

  And yet, it’s entirely necessary to select a council of ministers** to sit around a table and offer you advice. Why? Because what use is being a leader if you don’t have a group of people to sit around a conference table and order around? That would be completely worthless.

  So keep in mind that everyone who sits around that table would love to depose and kill you. Use every trick in the book (this one) to ensure you come out on top of the sure-to-be-short-lived cabinet. Also, in case you’re asking how a cabinet is different from an alliance, remember that alliances try to gain money or power, and cabinets try to retain or make more of it. There’s less of a need here to assert your authority; you have already proven that. I mean, your face is carved into the Chamber of Pain, formerly known as City Hall.

  Now that we have that out of the way, what sorts of advisors will you need? You’ll need quite a few to fill out some necessary offices that you’re sort of required to call the opposite of what they really are. To help you get a feel for this, I’ll clue you in to who sits on my current cabinet before I throw them all in an incinerator next month:

  Minister of Information (lying)

  This should be someone who sounds like they know what they’re talking about on any topic, even though you never actually tell them any of your plans or policies.

  My Minister: Confuse-cious, who talks in nothing but wise-sounding aphorisms that, in reality, slowly destroy your brain.

  Minister of Safety (beating up old ladies and children)

  Make this someone with incredibly large muscles.

  My Minister: The Bicep. He’s 77 percent bicep!

  Minister of Commerce (stealing things)

  You can choose an out-and-out thief for this office, or you could make it someone who specializes in strong-arming store owners for protection money. Either way, you’re going to need a second thief/ extortionist to get your money away from them.

  My Minister: Thief Thief, the thief who steals from thieves. (My secondary minister is Thief Thief Thief.)

  Minister of Transportation (making sure no one goes anywhere)

  This is the spot for a demolition expert, or, as I mentioned previously, someone who owns a giant dome.

  My Minister: Serena Shapeshift. Right now, she is the dome.

  Minister of the Interior (putting your face on everything)

  Find an artistic supervillain to do this for you. Someone who can add a little pizzazz to your goofy mug.

  My Minister: Banksy. That’s right, I got Banksy.

  Minister of Agriculture (barely adequate food)

  This can be anybody, really. They don’t have to do much of anything; just sit around and hold an office. It can be a brain in a jar. What do you care?

  My Minister: Brain in a Jar III, grandson of the original Brain in a Jar.

  Minister of Labor (okay, this title is pretty accurate)

  Pick someone who can really get workers motivated. And by “motivated,” I mean that they can threaten them with nose, ear, and throat loss if they don’t work on what you tell them to.

  My Minister: Chillary Clintomb, a clone of Hillary Clinton, who is a tiny, little bit meaner version.

  Minister of Finance (printing worthless money with your picture on it)

  You need a numbers expert here, so consider reanimating Gottfried Leibniz, Isaac Newton, or the guy who invented the abacus and dosing them with insanity juice. Easy enough.

  My Minister: Reanimated Isaac Newton, so you actually can’t have him.

  Minister of Education (brainwashing)

  A hypnotist. Or maybe a person made out of brain detergent. This isn’t that hard to work out.

  My Minister: Spiralia, the human hypnosis spiral.

  Minister of Peace (attacking anything that comes within 50 feet of you)

  This should be someone who can see every angle. A tactician. A really strategically-minded person. (But don’t go nuts, or they’ll cut your legs off before you can blink and grab up your throne.)

  My Minister: Aztec god of war, sacrifice, and sun, Huitzilopochtli. I give him a human heart every now and again, and that seems to satisfy him.**

  ** At least a dozen times. One dozen!

  * The actual text of the play says, “Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,” but what am I, the quote police? If anything, I should be adding other extra words to make it more incorrect. “Heavy is the heart that does the shit.” Tere.

  ** That last part’s pretty important.

  * You closed all the farms because farms are boring.

  † Actually, you know what? Don’t use the word “king.” That’s my thing, and I feel like I’ve kind of got a brand going with that. You could be a baron. Or a duke.

  * Missiles made out of pigeons. They’re horrifying. Trust me, I invented them.

  * Unless they read this, which competing supervillains almost certainly will do. If one of those guys is after you, live in a hot air balloon.

  ** Which I’ll be discussing further in the next chapter.

  * See Fox News as a jumping off point.

  * Not that I need to, right? Say it out loud, “Not that you need to, King.”

  † You may think this sentence is an opportunity for me to make a crack about sex. But lasting as long as you can at sex is terrible advice, for men and women. You’re a supervillain! Your time is at a premium! Knock that shit out and get down to business!

  * If you ever encounter a guy named Tyrannus Eradico, that’s a version of me from the future who’s trying to kill me. Give that guy an uppercut directly to the taint.

  ** And do call them ministers. “Secretary” just does not sound nefarious enough, no matter how you say it.

  * This, however, is pretty good sex advice.

  ** Full disclosure: He does creep me out a little.

  Chapter 10

  Preparing for Destruction

  If you’re the type of supervillain who eschews control and prefers to cause wanton chaos by making things explode, then you should know that you’re merely doing the work of nature itself. As Marquis de Sade—a man who we should all model some aspects of our life after—once said, “Destruction, hence, like creation, is one of Nature’s mandates.”

  A crazy French nobleman who liked to poison prostitutes said it, so therefore it must be true.

  The crack of doom is as much a part of human life on Earth as the crack of dawn. To create devastation is simply to be of the world. But just because something is natural doesn’t mean it’s instinctive. Much like conquering, destroying—if it is to be done properly—is something you must plan, prepare, and gird yourself for. Rolling into town and immediately shooting rockets at train trestles, flipping cars onto their roofs, or eating your way through the artifacts in a museum may be a lot of fun, but it won’t last for very long if you don’t meticulously set your warpath and devise your methods for cutting through that path in a thoughtful and deliberate way.

  This concept is often more difficult for the explodey types to wrap their heads around than it is for the wannabe dictators. Leadership candidates love planning and machinations and all that shit; it’s sort of what they live for. So when you tell them it takes months—if not years—of agonizing forethought to achieve their goals, they pretty much follow you every step of the way.* The real psychopaths, the ones who want little more than to watch mountains get leveled, tend to lack patience. Why sit around putting little dots on maps when you could be putting huge dots on real landmarks in the form of craters?

  Ray guns don’t need cocking, but get some slides installed on yours anyway. It looks cool.

  Here’s why: You need to make a statement if you really want to make a name for yourself. And everyone does, even those of us most single-mindedly obsessed with melting
hospitals. So you’ve got to make your annihilation say something about you, about society, about what you think of McDonalds taking your favorite sandwich off the dollar menu; whatever is most pressing to you at the moment. More on this in at the end of the chapter, when you’re more willing to listen to me, you impatient, obstinate, lunkhead.

  Supervillain FAQ: Is it okay to have kids?

  It’s so easy for us supervillains to get caught up in the day-to-day of evil, the destruction of lives, that some of us don’t even think too much about the act of creating life. And I don’t mean making clones of yourself or bizarro versions of superheroes in big tubes from your space lab, even though copying is creation of a sort. No, I mean making babies.

  It’s also easy to write off having children as a needless distraction; a responsibility that will remove you from the more important work of throwing an entire city’s keys in the ocean. But there are big upsides to it, even beyond having a person that is an enduring part of yourself that will live on beyond your years and that even your shriveled heart can feel something for.**

  Beyond that, it can sneak up on you. You go out to the local dastard bar, drink yourself silly, and a few months later, you’ve got a bastard dastard. Before you jump into a time machine and stop yourself, you may want to think over these pros and cons: