"Ask something easy, why don't you?" Smartica says.
"Sorry," you say. "I just figured we were at a point in our friendship where we could just rattle off dark secrets and stuff."
"Well, what's yours?" Smartica says.
"You first," you say.
"All right, I'll give you something," Smartica says. She bows her head, shakes it, then glances up back at you. "Matchless Man."
"What about him?" you say.
"Well," she says. "He. Um. He's not. Well, he's not someone we should have disposed of the way we did."
"All right," you say. "Well, next time, I'll let you call the shots on costumed heroes."
"There won't be a next time," Smartica says. Something in her voice breaks when she says that.
"What do you mean?" you say.
"Excuse me," Smartica says. She gets up from the desk.
That Was Not Much of a Secret, Smartica
Smartica exits the room with her and the henchmen's money. You lean back in your chair, somewhat satisfied. You do love the money, but what got you in the villain game was the fame. You could rob every bank in the world, but if no one's talking about it, no one can appreciate you.
Time to watch what the news has to say about you. You pick up a remote and press a button. A TV image projects on the side of the wall from a projector in your desk. Through some cosmic coincidence, you just now tune into the special news announcement from Worldwide News Radio and TV (WNRTV) about the amazing heist you just pulled off.
That, or you knew they would replay it at the top of every hour.
I Just Shine on Television
Whitney Wang, the intrepid reporter, reports. She has worked for every major news studio across the world in radio, television, and even, for a time, podcasts. Once, she climbed Mount Everest to interview a yeti. You can't help but be a tad impressed with her. As a villain, you relate to those who risk life and limb for their obsessions, even if Whitney only risked a couple of toes.
Whitney keeps her black hair cut short. As befitting a journalist, she wears tightly-fitted grey blazers. You have yet to see Whitney in one that is not grey. But, Whitney always accessorizes with colors like pink, blue, and sometimes, a combination of purple, white, black, or yellow to "pop" on camera.
"Today, First National State Bank saw another devastating robbery," Whitney says. "This has been the sixth robbery of the bank this month, which has cost the FDIC millions. No relief seems in sight, as immediately following this robbery, a different villain, Money Grubber, announced he will rob the bank by the end of the month."
What did you expect? You don't have a patent on robbing banks. You can at least tell yourself that no one can rob a bank exactly like you did.
I Guess So
Matchless Man may have been the biggest douchebag this side of New Jersey, but he was your archenemy, damn it! All archenemies have a deep, profound respect for each other. It's part of why the two of you have teamed up on occasion, like the time you fought the fusion clone of the two of you. Or the time that you worked together to prevent the multidimensional being, Dr. Yzzlegivvus, from turning Earth into chocolate pudding. There was even the time (and you really, really hate to even think about it) when you briefly turned good because somebody hit you with a "good ray." You worked alongside Matchless Man, fighting crime for several months. You even teamed up together to do a PSA about why winners don't do drugs.
Mercifully, I Was Zapped with an Evil Ray Again
Suddenly, the projected image of the news report flickers, buzzes, then turns off. You kneel down to open the compartment of the desk on which the projector sits. Maybe you can fix it yourself.
Before you can do anything else, a mighty wind rushes through your office, ripping your pile of money off the desk and scattering the bills to every corner of the room. You grab at the dollar bills, but the more you catch in your fingers, the more the wind blows away. You roll your eyes at the obvious metaphor, resolve to be less greedy, and stuff cash into your pockets.
Some bills swirl around the room until they reach a point about five feet away from your desk. The money forms into a small tornado, which morphs into a sickly green man. He is old, with a long beard, and he wears a tattered lab coat around his decaying shoulders and a cracked pair of goggles on top of his head. You drop the money. One of your hands reaches to your chest. The other reaches to the shrapnel gun in your coat.
"My child," he says. "I have returned."
"Dad?" you say.
You pull out the gun and shoot the ghost six times. The bullets fly through the ghost and into your poster of actor John Goodman's mad scientist evil twin, John Badman. Ghost Dad gives you a stern look and cradles his fingers together. He holds his steepled hands in front of his face and glares down at you.
"Are you quite finished?" he says.
You shoot him twelve more times, just to be sure. Once you are finished pumping John Badman full of shrapnel, Ghost Dad looks livider than he did the first time you crashed the station wagon trying to knock over a convenience store.
He had been so angry you hadn't robbed the credit union like he had asked.
Maybe I Just Haven't Shot Him Enough
You give Ghost Dad a sidelong look. You never really noticed this while he was alive, but he does resemble you in many ways. You begin a rigid examination of your supposed father's face, as if to recognize yourself a bit more. He stands there, his eyes boring hateful holes into you. The longer you stare at him, the more he lets out long sighs.
(Don't know why he's acting like this. If anything, he should be the one talking right now.)
Anyway, Ghost Dad's feelings don't matter right now! You have to discover yourself! You do, after all, have the same eyes, hair, and skin tone as your father. So, take a good, close look at your ghost dad. But not too close. For all you know, he could zap you with his ether powers, if he has any.
What color eyes does Ghost Dad (and, by extension, you) have?