Reconciliation: A Filthy Lie about Evil Glen’s Daydreams
It's been a while since I participated in an Alliance Filthy Lie Assignment. This week they have an interesting one about what Evil Glen's daydreams might be like, so I decided to put forth my own humble offering in the interest of freedom throughout the blogosphere.
Listlessly going over the reports forwarded to him by his chief minister of naughtiness, Evil Glen muttered quietly to himself. The only witness was a Cocker Spaniel puppy who sat in a nearby blender, gazing at the “frappe” button with some trepidation.
“Hobo killings up 26% in the third quarter. Free-range puppy output almost double what it was at this time last year. Over 10,000 new bloggers being squeezed out of existence by my mighty Instapunditry. Everything is proceeding according to plan.” He drummed his fingers on the desk – carved from the bones of law students who had displeased him – and his mind began to wander onto more personal matters.
“Everything going according to plan … indeed … but my fondest wish is still unfulfilled … is still unfulfilled … still unfulfilled … unfulfilled …
Evil Glen sat on the raised platform, being fed grapes by Hollywood It Girls Fergie and Mischa Barton. Into the room came a blogtrooper with a manacled prisoner in tow.
“My dread lord, we captured this blogger approaching Chateau de Reynolds. He was alone, and armed only with this.” The blogtrooper handed Evil Glen an envelope and brought the prisoner forward.
“Ah, the elusive Frank J. is finally caught!” said Reynolds.
“Yes, father.” replied Frank J.
“So. You have finally accepted the truth.”
“Indeed, father. Open the envelope.”
Fearing a trap, Reynolds handed the unopened letter to Hollywood It Girl Fergie. “Hollywood It Girl Fergie, open this envelope.” He said.
“Of course, Glen.” she replied “But first let me straighten my micro-miniskirt, then turn around and bend over to fiddle with my six-inch stiletto heels.”
“Oh, I have to do that too.” added Hollywood It Girl Mischa Barton.
“I think you’ve been watching too much 'E!', father.”
“This is my daydream son. Shut up and enjoy the view.”
Skirt straightened and stiletto heels adjusted, Hollywood It Girl Fergie opened the envelope and handed it back to Evil Glen.
“It’s a Father’s Day Card!” Glen exclaimed.
“Yes, father. And you see the inside? I drew a picture of you and me holding hands.”
“Oh, son … I’m so … touched.”
“Now I will take my rightful place at your side, and together we shall rule the blogosphere!”
“Indeed, my son! Indeed! All shall kneel before us and tremble … and tremble … tremble …
The approach of footsteps shook Evil Glen from his reverie.
“Oh Evil One,” said the sniveling minion who had just entered. “I have a reply from Miss Barton regarding your offer to take her out for a refreshing Beagle mochachino.”
“Yes, yes?” Glen enthused.
"Dear Glen Reynolds – I wouldn’t have a drink with you if you were the last evil blogosphereic tyrant on Earth, you twisted f-"
“Enough!” interrupted Glen. “Is there anything from that ... horrible ... Frank J.?”
“No, your vileness. Nothing except the usual barrage of slander from that awful Alliance of his.”
“Very well. You may go eat your stale bread crust and then retire to your dirty straw mat.”
“Oh, thank you sir!”
The grateful minion retreated from the room, never noticing the single bitter tear that fell from Evil Glen’s eye as he turned back to his reports.