"Blogons!" I thought to myself as i glimpsed the unmistakable silhouette of my arch-foe Joel Jetpack at my bedroom window. I'd recognize that ridiculous fin-shaped helmet anywhere. How he found my lair, Zoltar only knows. But one thing is for sure, in about 10 seconds he's going to come crashing through the window with a hard-on for justice, waving his cheeseball 'Judgement Ray' around and shouting something like "revenge at last!". Why today of all days? I've got two book cover illustrations due today and laser-chess with Doctor Octogenarian this evening. Couldn't he at least have waited until I was fully dressed? Jesus christ, why didn't i just stick to freelance illustration? Sure it's stressful, but you didn't run the risk of being disintegrated before breakfast. "I'm not cut out for this full-time illustration, part-time super-villainy bullshit!" I muttered, as I powered up my ray gun and set the dial to 'brain explosion'.