|synonyms:||underling, henchman, flunky, lackey, hanger-on, follower, servant, hireling, vassal, stooge, toady, sycophant;|
I wish I’d thought of it years ago, but hindsight is 20/20 as they say. I need some minions. I need unquestioning followers who will do my bidding without reservation, complaint, or hesitation.
Imagine a world where all you had to do was ask, and whatever you requested would be granted; where obedient subjects blindly take all orders and execute them without delay.
Oh sure, I had kids who I could order around for a while, but eventually you see that look in their suspicious little faces, questioning simple requests;
“Go get Daddy another beer.”
“Hold this while I start up the chainsaw”
“Don’t tell Mom I broke it. It’ll be our little secret.”
You know, the usual stuff. That’s when you know that they know something isn’t quite right with this symbiotic relationship, and your hope of having a permanent underling to do your dirty work is done. They’re so ungrateful, those kids!
I have lots of friends…well, a few friends, but they’re all too smart to go along with any wild world domination plans I might have. I need to wear dark sunglasses when I ask them to get me the necessary parts to make a death-ray. They can see the crazy in my eyes which is a giveaway that I might not be quite right.
I’m too broke to hire a personal assistant, like they do in Hollywood. That looks like a pretty sweet gig! Imagine having someone walk the dog, pick up laundry, cook supper, clean the pool and massage your tired feet after a long day of shouting ridiculous orders at them.
I have a dog, who I guess would be a good minion since she has unwavering loyalty to me, except that it kind of works in reverse for us. I feed her, carry her down the stairs, walk her, pick up after her, brush her fur….hmmm.
I might have looked at interns, but big business has ruined that sweet little free labour pool for the common man.
Even Dr. Frankenstein had Igor, but you could tell that the poor hunchback would shiv the bad doctor at his first chance, given the way he was treated.
The only thing left for guys like me are ‘minions’, but where do you start? Is there a ‘Minion Mail Order’ website? Where do these minions come from anyway? How do you know that they’ll stupidly accommodate every insane request you make without hesitation? Is there a vetting or interview process?
There’s lots I need to research, to be sure.
How many do I need? Do I start with a half-dozen and see how things are going? Do I have to give them names? Maybe they all get the same name and somehow can just figure out who I’m talking to, kind of like George Foreman did.
What about feeding? Do they need a special minion diet, and if so, do I get a minion to serve it to himself?
I know they’re all ‘him’s’ because no girl minion would be dumb enough to blindly follow me around all day.
What if they unionize? I’d hate for them to be carrying me over to the treadmill then stopping halfway because of a negotiated coffee break. I’d be stuck there for 15 minutes!
Where do they sleep? Do they sleep?
If one gets away, do I go after it like a lost sheep, or just call up my minion supplier and order a replacement?
Wow. This is getting to be a lot of work! Maybe this whole minion thing needs a rethink. Maybe I should just depend on me to do my dastardly deeds. At least I know I would do things exactly the way I wanted them done.
Maybe that’s the fatal flaw with minions. The movies prove it. Every time a super villain (not suggesting I want to be one) has minions do his dirty work, something goes wrong and they end up failing in their bid to blow up the moon or detach California from the rest of the continent.
I think villains should aim a little lower, at least to start. Pretty sure that if you want to vaporize a planet, a lot of people are going to try to stop you, but if you wanted to take a shopping cart past the store parking lot, you might go unnoticed.
That’s a job even the simplest of minions could handle.
My insidious little plan? Why do I really need minions? I haven’t figured that one out yet, and it would spoil the surprise, but you have know that being the master of a bunch of mindless followers has it’s appeal.
Regardless, I’d start out small, maybe washing the car if the weather gets above freezing.
I won’t work them up to continental annihilation until I’m sure they can follow basic direction. There’s nothing worse than commandeering every television station in the world to give the nations notice that if they don’t comply with my demands, I’ll blow up Iceland, only to find out that the minions forgot to plug in my death ray.
Or, maybe I just need to stop watching sci-fi reruns and go outside…it’s been a loooong winter!
Yeah, forget the minions. I’m the only one who can do things my way. I’ll be my own master, and serve my dog mindlessly.
P.S. – I tried to warn you about winter in my last blog, but nooo! You all thought my little petition was a hoax, and now we’re stuck digging out of another lousy storm. Well, you can’t complain if you didn’t vote.