Villain from Every Children’s Movie Weighs In: “Get rid of that god damn dog!”

Stevenson! STEVENSON! Get in here, Goddamnit! Now quit cowering! Stevenson, look, there’s a whole lot of money resting on this project, and a whole lot of people counting on me to make that money for them. And everything was going just perfectly. Then that goddamned dog had to get involved. Since when can a dog even play baseball?! It doesn’t have hands, it can’t hold a bat, what the hell is it doing on that team!

Sorry, Stevenson, it just gets me worked up, thinking about it. Get me a glass of brandy so I can sip it while I stare out of this exceptionally large window in a way that implies I am both dangerous and wealthy, will you? I just can’t believe that the goddamn baseball playing dog and that rotten group of misunderstood children who befriended it are going to try to stop the development I’ve been planning for years! FOR YEARS, STEVENSON! And I gave you the simple, easy task of getting a dog kicked off a minor league baseball team. A job that a child with a basic understanding of the rules of the sport could have accomplished. And you slink back here, and tell me that “there’s nothing in the rules that stops a dog from playing baseball”? You pathetic worm. You utter piece of garbage. You worthless pile of fetid human waste. You have no idea how close I am to making you hold up the board next time I throw darts at a picture of the dog!

Well, I’m going to give you one more chance to redeem yourself after your miserable failure.  Stevenson, I need you to kill that fucking dog. I don’t care how, I don’t care that this is clearly too dark for children, I want that fucking dog dead YESTERDAY! I don’t give a shit about anything! I’m going to destroy the beloved baseball park, I’m going to put in apartments, and I’m going to laugh at the ragtag bunch of lovable children who are currently coming together around a baseball-playing dog to protect the park which means so much to them. I am a middle aged, probably bald man in a business suit, and I will fuck up anyone who gets in my way!

So, are we clear, Stevenson? The dog dies, or you die. I think I know which one you’d prefer, so I’m going to let you show yourself out and get to work, goddamn it. If you need me, and you won’t, I’ll be here in my office, ominously playing golf on the indoor putting green I have here for some reason.

 

-IR ’21