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This message A Day In the Life of… the Hooded Hood was posted by Guess on Tuesday, July 2, 2002 at 06:02.
A Day In the Life of… the Hooded Hood
Note: This insight into the private journal of Ioldabaoth Winkelweald refers to events after Untold Tales #98 and Before Premiere #22.
6.45am: Awaken to the dark strains of Mahler and take breakfast down in the torture pit while checking on the reconditioning of those science villains I recently confiscated. They must find my traditional methods very different from the Human Resources Recycling Centre in Technopolis, but I trust they will come to appreciate the personal touch. It will be some time before they meet my exacting standards, but thereafter I expect to find them of marginal use.
7.12am: The mail. I retcon a particularly annoying and persistent publisher’s clearing house. Some interesting correspondence from Pierson’s Porter, who ingeniously keeps sending me letters even after I carved him out of existence. He makes some valid points about the perceptional nature of the enigmatic Void Spectre and offers an unusual perspective on Iago’s motivation in Othello which are worthy of further consideration.
7.50am: I conduct a mid-complexity survey of the principal reality strands using the Portal of Pretentiousness. The Starseed – Nebulus war is now moving towards its conclusion, with the likely mutual annihilation of both factions. I should not need to intervene. Woopsa the Rakshasa Towel Boy has established a firm grip on the incontinent retired gods beyond the Vortex, and given his ineffectuality there should be no further interference from that quarter. I do note some perturbing development on Xnylonia which may require me to entangle some of the Lair Legion at some future point.
8.55am: I can’t resist watching the trivial struggling of that lapine-themed buffoon wandering the galaxy. He amuses me for almost fifteen seconds.
9.00am: I inspect the breeding tanks and note that the shadow mixture needs more pain in it, but otherwise my new minion is coagulating nicely. All it needs now is the soul of a hero.
9.22am: Leisure time. I indulge myself with a little Dr Faustus. The man’s mistake was clearly in not securing the proper contractual relationships with the fiends with whom he bartered. He deserved his ending because of his sloppy thinking.
9.30am: Briefing with some principal minions. The most recent damage done by the superhuman population has already been corrected, and improved infrastructure, supply chain strategies, and contingency arrangements are making their interference less and less significant. The update on the activities of other principal power bases is as always interesting. Akiko Masamune appears to have overcome the internal divisions within the Yakuza in her usual forthright manner and may now have the capacity to cause wider trouble once more. Camellia of the Fey is quiescent, which suggests she has noted the arcane imbalance caused by the release of certain ancient wardings in Britain during my Purveyors of Peril takeover. The Lynchpin has started another diet so I expect the violence rate in Gothametropolis to increase.
Of particular note is the covert activity levels of the Shadow Cabinet, who have presumably profited from the minor unpleasantness with Technopolis to add to their collection of forbidden technology. These people begin to vex me. Having gone to considerable trouble to sideline their previous operatives Green Ninja and Saint (not that either of these recognised their link with the Cabinet, of course) I am not keen to see yet more interferences arise. I schedule some time to address this later.
10.45am: Break for tea and a muffin.
11.00am: Briefing continues, covering the power struggle within the Ass-Raping Ninjas, the possible infiltration of SPUD, the next major recruitment programme planned by the Heckfire Club, the ongoing robot-monkey civil war, and Kink the Conqueror’s somewhat feeble gambit to wed the Probability Dancer.
12.15pm: Meeting with Gideon Book in his somewhat monochromatic and sterile tower. Book once again explains his doctrine that I am an unwitting agent of Order working for the ultimate triumph of law in the Parodyverse. I don’t trouble to explain my plans to overthrow Order and Chaos and establish a bright new rule which will forge the Parodyverse into a gauntlet that will crush the multiverses beyond. Instead we discuss the Shadow Cabinet situation, and mutually agree it is time to give them a bloody nose by activating the CyberVenom Incident.
1.05pm: Meeting with the Manga Shoggoth in his cylopean Antarctic lair. Not that I doubt his ability to contain dangerous elements like dear Daio, but it would be a fundamental error to underestimate the diabolical Dr Moo. It amazes me that simply capturing the Paradox Stranger in a sliver of frozen time is sufficient to shut him up. However, the Shoggoth’s opinions aside it is clear that more serious means of containing these elements will eventually be required. We also discuss the dubious appeal of large-eyed celluloid representations of fetishistic schoolchildren while little Cthandra plays with her stuffed Lovecraftian monsters and then I move on.
1.55pm: A rather pleasant light lunch in the Strand in 1891. Simpson’s had the best cellar on the planet back then. As expected, Jury was late, and as expected there was the usual attempts to compete in banter and intellectual sparring. I pointed out that the Shaper of Worlds had little reason to be angry with me. Had I not forborne from ensuring that her brief sluttish dalliance with the Paradox Stranger resulted in a little cosmic being nine months later? Jury vows my slow, painful downfall. All in all a splendid meal.
3.05pm: On the way back to work I call in on the Abyssal Greye, leader of the Gothametropolis Ghouls. We chat about books and have a spirit dispute over G.K. Chesterton which Greye resolves by producing parts of the man to illustrate his point. More importantly, Greye brings me up to date on the misfortunes that have befallen the vampire cult in Paradopolis, who have had the misfortune to encounter Messenger. I make a note to watch this later when I need some light entertainment.
4.37pm: A little late for tea, so I forbear the ginger snap and spend some time arranging the return of Madame Symmetry of Synchronicity at an auspicious moment.
5.00pm: A briefing on the doings of the so-called heroes of the Parodyverse. Dreamcatcher Foxglove is entering into another of his complicated relationships, this time with the ex-wife of Dr Day-Vincent, a trivial half-faerie called St Sylvain. I note the possibilities inherent in the situation. My daughter Troia continues to stay on Amazon Isle, and the hemigod Donar has not yet the slightest inkling of the reasons for this. The Observing Eye continue to deceive Goldeneyed and Exile in a way which must surely lead to eventual war between them all. Hatman and Sorceress are considering a business venture to offer them some kind of life beyond the Lair Legion, which also suggests many avenues of exploitation. De Brown Streak seeks an archvillain. I take appropriate steps. Some of the heroes are about to be inconvenienced by the ManManHunters. Obviously I have taken appropriate steps myself.
6.34pm: As always after an intense study of the teeming superheroes of the Parodyverse I have a mild headache. I soothe myself with a little Debussy and indulge my inner child by adding complications to the lives of dull thud, Nats, and Trickshot.
7.30pm: I join my guests for dinner, having first had the gatecrashing Space Ghost ejected twice. It is always a challenge catering for Blackhurt Prince of Fibs but my chef rose to the occasion and may live for another day. Lisa has commenced another diet, despite my assurances that it is physically impossible for a heroine in the Parodyverse to age or gain weight except upon the bust. Eventually she and Magenta St Evil settled down to bitching about Mara Musashi’s latest hairdo. spiffy seemed a little quiet tonight, perhaps because of the being-disinherited-and-being-retconned-not-to-be-my-son thing, or because he was sat between his alternate reality self Dark Thugos and Temporary Death. He clearly needs his life complicating again.
9.45pm: After the brandy and cigars (how that St Evil woman can smoke) I escort Ms Waltz back to Visionary’s condominium and have a brief moment of satisfaction at his face as he opens the door to me. But really it is like shooting fish in a barrel.
10.12pm: Back to work. I do my best work at night. A good thunderstorm is brewing.
10.17pm: Think up three more plans for the domination of the Parodyverse.
10.19pm: Brief conversation with Frightmare, Lord of Bad Dreams, on the subject of Xander the Improbable. Despite having yet to exhibit any supernatural abilities, Xander has nevertheless triumphed over a significant number of cosmic forces and requires close attention. Fortunately he has not yet discovered what happened to his mentor Lucius Faust or why the owls are not what they seem.
11.02pm: Deathstar Druid once more has an origin. I retcon him from reality yet again.
11.22pm: I check again on some long-term projects. I still haven’t quite mastered the necessary levers for my gambit with Yo-Planet, although when I can fathom the end of the “Happiness” gambit things may become clearer. The Exemplary plot proceeds apace, and may yet become the right trigger for the Resolution War. My “new” son is doing well. The Devil Doctor has finally found a suitable new dead body to occupy and is now entering the former space of the Second Eldest Race in order to discover the origins of the Psychostave that once imprisoned him. The electronic serpent in the Lair Mansion’s bosom will soon strike. Events proceed apace at the ends of time, but neither the Cowled Crook nor Dr Phobia appear to have noticed each other yet. And the Vampire Legionnaire is coming. All in all most satisfactory, and sufficient to give the heroes pain and torment for years to come – if they have years left to them.
12.00am: Midnight by the old grandfather clock in the study. I reluctantly close my books and cover the Portal. There is still so much to do, so much to set right. How can one man possibly plot the downfall of the very creators of the Parodyverse? And yet I must ever strive, for such is the nature of… the Hooded Hood.
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