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Stephen Zacharus
"I, ROBOTNIK"

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The forthcoming day was looking to be most productive, indeed.

An irrepressible feeling of personal satisfaction apprehended me as I stood alone on my private balcony. The scene that played-out below me was dancing in all its splendor -- twisted, polluted and downright vile. Already, I could see numerous teams of WorkerBots hauling materials to the new construction site, toiling mechanically within the sweltering humidity that so garnished my magnificent Empire. I couldn't help but smile at the scene. Admittedly, being an evil dictator is rather enjoyable at times.

The WorkerBots were operating at a sufficient enough pace... but out of sheer, morbid desire to drive those roboticized furballs to their mechanical capacity, I ordered them to quicken their work. And they did. From my perch atop the skyline of Robotropolis, I laughed for the first time in weeks. "Yes," thought I, "today is going to be undeniably marvelous. Today marks the first day of the Rebellion's downfall. Today is the happiest day of my..."

"Lord Robotnik!"

Shit. Why did such a glorious morning have to be ruined by the sound of *that* voice? I turned to face my regrettably brainless minion. "Damn it, Snively, how many times do I have to *tell* you? When I am out on the balcony, it means that I am not to be disturbed. Brilliant minds such as my own should not be interrupted during the process of their diabolical scheming."

In all honesty, I was growing inescapably sick of having the little bastard constantly in my presence. What the hell was he good for? Kicking around, I suppose... which, I'll admit, can be beneficial when I feel compelled to unleash my aggressions upon something. Perhaps, to prove a point, I'd shove that insolent little shit through my paper shredder later on in the afternoon...

And then that hideously nasal voice of his pierced into my skull yet again -- undoubtedly similar to such a procedure with a dull, poison-tipped stake. "My apologies for interrupting you, my Lord of Lard, but..."

Oh, no. I internally cringed at what was coming next.

"...I thought you'd like to know that we've captured a group of Freedom Fighters that was attempting to infiltrate one of our factories. I have them in the Standby Chamber awaiting roboticization."

Ah, that was a relief. For once, Snively had beheld good news! This was shaping up to be a *very* good day. "Excellent, Snively. I'll come down in a few hours to personally oversee the procedure."

Snively nodded. "Shall I prepare the torture chamber?"

Hmm, I hadn't thought of that. Nevertheless, it sounded like a good idea. "What the hell. I'm feeling rather constructive today."

"Very diabolical, sir."

"Don't you forget it. And Snively?"

"Yes, sir?"

"If you interrupt me again, let it be known that I will not hesitate to demote you to Toilet Duties. Understood?"

Snively gulped. "Y-yes... sir."

"Good. Now leave me before I gain the motivation to drop you off of my balcony."

"Of course, sir." And, with that, he left.

Thank the Goddess.

I spent a few more minutes surveying the lugubrious work that continued beneath my balcony. Construction for the new factory would be complete within the week; technical aspects for the project would take less than three months. I had yet to name this new project, however. It deserved a name that would match its imposing demeanor -- something along the lines of "Wrath" or "Apocalypse" or "Doomsayer" -- but so far nothing really stuck. I decided that I'd simply name the project whenever I found the inspiration.

This new factory, however, was to destined to become my grandest achievement in the history of my reign. It was the *perfect* scheme for planetary domination -- one that would ultimately rid the woorld of the rancid pestilence that was the Freedom Movement. It was only a matter of time before Sally Acorn and her legion of immature warriors and that helldamned hedgehog would ALL face their inevitable doomsday.

I paused at that thought.

Doomsday...

Very catchy.

I immediately moved to my computer console. "Computer, record the following transmission and broadcast it over the city." After the machinery digested this information and obediently processed it, I began my speech.

"I, Robotnik -- ruler of the planet Mobius -- will soon reclaim that which is rightfully mine, and the means by which I will accomplish this will be operational in a matter of months. My enduring legacy shall hereby be referred to as the Doomsday Project..."



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