"Mind Control Ray! 100% Genuine Mind Control Ray! Want WANT WANT!"

I manage to pry Clovis off the box he lept upon.

"No. We are not buying anything at this store. We are only here because you wanted to, and I quote 'Look around.' No purchasing."

"but but ... Mind Control Ray! very own Mind Control Ray for cute cute bunny!"

An imp in a blue t-shirt that says Where it? Ask me and I'll show you! and a nametag reading "Qxrltbt" appears next to us in a puff of faintly sulpherous smoke.

"Oh, the Mind Control Ray. Very popular. Can I answer any questions about it for you?"

"how much how much how much?!"

I smile in a 'go away annoying salesthing' manner. "No, we don't have any questions, thanks. We're just browsing."

"are NOT! buying Mind Control Ray right now now now!"

I hold Clovis facing me. "Clovis, you have no money."

Qxrltbt coughs politely. "Filling out a store credit-card application is quick and virtually painless. We offer special rates for Evil Overlords-to-be."

I glare at the sales imp. "Thank you, no. We're not interested."

"are so", Clovis mutters.

Qxrltbt opens his mouth to say something else when a slightly larger imp, wearing a shirt, tie, and nametag that reads "Vlxtrbl - Asst. Manager" appears. He grabs Qxrtltbt and whispers something to him. Qxrtlbt looks at me and Clovis, turns a paler shade of green, and vanishes. Vlxtrbl smiles a large, pointy-toothed smile.

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss, Devilbunny. Our sales-staff didn't recognize you at first. Always happy to see another store-owner in our little enterprise."

I glare at him. "We don't sell anything actively harmful or evil at MY store."

"Well, yes, this is true. Which is why our owner felt there was an opening in the marketplace ..."

Clovis who had been suspiciously quiet, wiggles his ears.

"'evil overlord s -to-be' insulting. everyone knows am only possible future evil overlord. don't like references to multiple wanna-be overlords. don't want stupid-probably-not-working Mind Control Ray from here."

I smile. The assistant manager starts stammering.

"Well, of course, you would be the only overlord we know of in this city ..."

"hmmph."

Vlxtrbl tries to back-pedal as I walk away holding Clovis.

"C'mon bunny. We'll stop for coffee on the way home."

"... am so only future evil overlord. not just only one in city. when overlord, will blow up insulting store ... coffee? cookie? treat? have been very good devilbunny!"

I smile down at him. "Yes, you have been. Maybe I'll get you a gingerbread minion.

"gingerbread minion! bite off feet, then hands, then head!"

Walking out of the store, I pull my phone out of the coffin purse. " ... Hi sweetie. Yes, we're done. No, they insulted Clovis. I'll tell you about it when I get home. Want me to pick you up something from the coffee shop?"

I stare at the bill in horror. It's almost as scary as the damned FOX network.

"Six hundred and forty dollars for a feckin' television troll?!"

The repair-wizard shrugs. "And thirty seven cents. You have a big TV."

I turn to the wife, cats, and suitcases full of dirty clothes. She nods sheepishly. I snort in disgust, handing over my First Bank of Sang Sacre credit card.

I shoot her a foul look. "You and your I-want-to-see-Mal-life-sized! Hope it was worth it!"

She takes on a dreamy expression. The cats, which she hugs closely to her chest, begin to look mildly uncomfortable.

"Now stop that!"

The repair-wizard hands back my card and a receipt. With a bob of his head, he then disappears. We trudge into the house. I stop to throw the suitcases into the laundry room. She enters the living room. I hear a disgusted sound from her proximity.

Entering the living room, I smell something vaguely like stilton cheese fished out of a sewer. There, next to the TV and my wife, is a burnt troll carcass. As usual the only ones who don't mind the presence of a body on the floor are the cats. One bats an eyeball around the floor. The other just sits between the troll's legs, sniffing its butt.

"Right. I'll get the axes. You get the mop."

How on earth did I manage to buy so much frelling stuff in one trip? I am literally neck-deep in bags and wrapping paper as I sit on the floor. Worse, I seem to recall ordering several estimates from Aeshma's Home Improvement Department. I flop on my back and let the bags cover me.

After several days of work I have come to the conclusion that my cloning machine just won't work without being attached to an Eviltron 2000 (tm) control module.

"Go ahead and hook up the Eviltron Igna, looks like we'll just have to go with evil twins instead of pure clones." I say to my trustworthy lab assistant.

Inga reattaches the unit. It's an ugly piece of equipment, black, twisted, and covered with spikes. All marketing really, the actual machine is a little gray box, the rest is just glued on.

"Um, it's giving me an error sign." My assistant points out a little flashing red LED. She consults the manual. "The light means that it's out of evil. We need to fill it up with two tablespoons of concentrated evil in powdered form."

"Are you reading that right? You can't just go out an buy a box of evil like so much baking soda."

Inga pulls out a colorful flyer from the newspaper. "There's a new place in town that sells it." She flips through the flyer. "Here's a coupon."

"Okay, go ahead and pick up a box. I want to see if this is for real."

Inga carefully empties the bag of powered evil into a stainless steel bowl on the workbench.

"I didn't expect evil to be yellow." I comment. "This is the pure evil, right?"

Inga nods. "That's what the package said."

"I think some experimenting is in order to confirm that this is actual evil."

"Agreed." Says Inga.

"Well, I think it's obvious what we need to do."

"Put this in the city water supply and track the number of people who start wearing black leather pants?"

"Exactly."

A evil shop makes a very happy Edward. Everything an evil overlord could possibly desire... the kit... blankets for mountain campaigns; laser beams, death rays, assorted thicknesses of garotting wire; and a set of cute clothes-- hats, underwear, t-shirts-- with slogans on: "I'm evil, hear me roar", "I Turned Evil And All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt", "Evil Makes The World Go Dark"... and of course the black leather pants.

And everything you need to make you comfortable: seats, water coolers, perfect lighting, helpful assistants (even if the horns are a little off putting; at least he didn't poke me with the fork thingy)...

They even have them in small sizes, as would fit Evil Teddy Bears. And... there.

Wow. Black, really black; leather, real leather; corseted dress, short skirt, plunge neckline-- just my size!

I have to have one of these.

Note to self: steal money from Am-Chau very soon.

Second note to self: if can't find Am-Chau, steal dress anyway. Very soon.

I don't know what Bob's so upset about. He's the one who's been trying to get me out of the khakis and peasant shirts--though maybe he was trying to just get me out of them, not into something else. Hm. Must consider that point.

But, you know, leather's not that uncomfortable, once you get used to it. I had no idea tight leather corsets could feel so . . . supportive. Kind of like a perpetual hug.

Still, Achmed still hasn't stopped gaping and saying half-words, which he's been doing ever since I walked in the door. At least Bob's reaction is more . . . predictable. I suppose I should offer to help him out of those jeans, he can't be comfortable, as tight as they seem to be.

In a very impressive display of vampiric will, he manages a complete sentence. "You were going shopping for office supplies. Evil office supplies."

l stop running my hands up and down my torso when his eyes start glazing over. But, gosh, it's so soft--anyway. "Well, I did see some ink cartridges for the printer that had a really good price, but the only color they had was red, and they were touting the fact that they were refilled cartridges with a special additive that would prevent clotting, so I skipped them. Plus, they have the most lust-inducing rolltop desk I've ever seen, with hidden compartments inside of hidden compartments, and scrollwork designed to let computer cables pass through without chopping holes in the wood. I'm still thinking about that desk."

I run my fingers down my thighs. Deerskin, nummy. "And I really was going to be good, I was really on my way out, but then I smelled it."

He blinks after a moment. "Smelled it?"

"The leather. Leather smells really, really good. Don't you think so?"

Now he's starting to grin. "Uh huh."

Oh, dear. I know that look. I do hope Achmed has enough brain cells left to take himself back to the kitchen, because I have a feeling I'm not going to be leaving the living room for the next little while.

Is that supposed to be a bad thing?

While checking on some new code in the computer lab, Inga barges in with a large three-ring binder.

"He's the results of the experiment." She announces while dropping the massive binder down on the workbench.

"Experiment?" I ask.

"Remember, we added pure, powered evil to the cities water supply?"

"Oh, right. Well, I've sort of moved on to another project. Project H actually. It turns out my cheif rival lost all their lead researchers to a tragic conference room accident and have left a market opprotunity."

"Was it one of those accidents where all the researchers died of massive head trauma while all trying to grab the last capped dry-erase marker and tripping over carelessly laid wires that were never unplugged from the last meeting because the secretary went on strike?" Asks Inga.

"Exactly. Now I need you to gather the staff, Project H is ready for deployment."

(Bwahhhahahahhhaahh!)

The staff meeting is almost over, so far all the reports have been positive. My policy of killing department heads who bring me bad news appears to be working well. Ah good, the report on the evil household goods department is over.

"Very well, any comments?"

One of my worthless minions stands up and stammers out, "Shouldn't we stock some Chirstmas merchandise?"

"What is Chirstmas?"

"It's a holliday, stores usually stock a lot of profitable items...."

"Deimos. Form a Christmas committee to investigate this so-called holliday and report to me tomorrow. That will be all for today."