party celebrating the end of the Civil War, I decided now was the perfect time to have a little chat with the Henchman
, a would-be super-villain who stole my girlfriend, Maggie
, while I was off-planet performing an heroic mission with Jon the Intergalactic Gladiatior
at the request of the Queen of the Galaxy
"Listen, gramps," he started as I approached him, "if I even think I feel you trying to get in my head, I'll show all the fun Maggie and me have had."
I supressed my laugh. As if he could ever detect my use of telepathy on him. "Now look here, Henchman. There's no need to take that tact."
"Oh yeah? Well I'll take whatever tact I want, Baldy. If you don't watch your step, I'm going to fry you up and have you for breakfast, lunch and dinner."
"Er . . I'm not quite sure what the means."
"It means whatever I want it to!"
"Okay, look Henchman, just calm down a moment. All I want to-"
"You don't tell me to be calm! I'll be whatever the hell I want to be!"
"This is obviously going nowhere," I said. "Perhaps I'll try again when you're feeling a little more relaxed."
I turned my chair around and rolled away. I heard a loud squeel behind me. Apparently I had rolled over his foot by accident. In a furious blur, Henchman jumped in front of me and grabbed my jacket collar.
"That does it!" he roared.
Everyone at the party stopped to look at us. Most of them were allies of mine. Several heroes moved closer to help me. Not that I needed it. Henchman has no real defenses to a psionic attack.
"Ok, Cue Ball. You're a friend of Maggie so I'll forget it this time. But - Do - Not - Piss - Me - Off." He released my jacket and I fell back into the chair. "Jerk," he muttered.
He and Maggie left the party shortly after that. I know it was petty of me, but I placed a mental block in his subconscious. For the next few days, he's going to have a very hard time . . well . . let's just say, having any more fun with Maggie.