Dr. Slamhammer saying something. Again. Him always talk. Him like talk.
Mongo not like talk. Leaky pipes drip on Mongo’s head. Mongo just henchman. Mongo not allowed to move from spot. Mongo contemplate upkeep cost of Evil Secret Underground Lair.
“Mongo!” Him yell, staring at Mongo.
“Yes, Master?” Him like when Mongo call him Master.
“I said, I am about to achieve my greatest triumph! Our… our greatest triumph.” Him trying to spread credit around after reading Jack Welch book. “I have created a new life!”
“Brother?” Mongo always want brother. Also want woman, but not made by Master because then she sister and Mongo not sicko.
“No, not brother. Well, not exactly. Certainly not biologically related although your creation did provide invaluable lessons and I think I’ve surpassed even that achievement. Don’t be sad, you are still my favorite.”
“Mongo not sad.” That lie. Mongo always sad.
“Then why are you crying?” Master squint. Master need glasses, but him not fond of acknowledging age related diminished capacity.
“Mongo not cry. Mongo stand under drippy pipe.” For super genius, him not very observant. Or good with basic facilities management.
“Then move from out from under it for God’s sake!” Mongo move. Mongo not sure Dr. Slamhammer’s best quality was consistency with orders. Him tell Mongo yesterday to stay put. Mongo not move since. Mongo follow orders. “Come, be the first to witness the dawn of a new era!” With flourish, Dr. Slamhammer wave at empty air. Well, empty air euphemism. Mongo know that air collection of molecules.
“I give you Cyborg Dinosaur Ninjas! I, Dr. Slamhammer, have taken a Tyranosaurs-Rex, fitted it with a laser-beam eye, rocket launchers for arms… you know, because T-Rex had those tiny, useless arms? Anyhoo, Empires will crumble, nations will fall!” Him find spotlight, raise arms and address the heavens. “From the wreckage a Ne World Order will rise with me, Dr. Slamhammer! A veritable God-King will I’ll be!” Dr. Slamhammer have dream to be God-King. Him always talk about it. It good to have dreams, he say. Mongo have dream. Mongo fly over rainbow on unicorn. Mongo think he not mean dream in same way. Mongo blink at empty space.
“Mongo not see dinosaur.”
“Of course not, he’s a ninja!” Dr. Slamhammer’s smile slowly fall. Mongo feel bad disappointing Master. Dr Slamhammer sigh. “I can see abstract visual imagination is outside your pervue.” Dr. Slamhammer not whistling Dixie.
“Very well, let me show you a Cyborg Dinosaur Ninja in training, so he’s still visible.” Dr. Slamhammer pull curtain. In cage a velociraptor with jet engine for tail and antenna sticking out head. “He’s just a brown belt.” Mongo not tell him brown belt have no meaning in ancient art of ninjitsu.
Dr. Slamhammer open cage. “Allow him to demonstrate.” Dr. Slamhammer grab old walkie talkie and press button. Dinosaur turn head and look at him. “Dinosaur!” Dinosaur cock head like doggie. Mongo like doggies. Especially cockerdoodles. “Demonstrate first kata!” Dinosaur does very good job with first kata even with jet engine throwing off balance. “Dinosaur, second kata!”
Dinosaur start off strong, but forgets place, demonstrating three strikes in row instead of two strikes and block. It try and correct, messes up again.
It start to shake, open mouth, hiss and roar. “No, dinosaur,” Dr. Slamhammer yell in walkie-talkie. Dinosaur jump on Mongo slash with claws. “No!” Dr. Slamhammer press red button. Electricity jumps around Dinosaur head. It start smoke.
It fall down.
Dr. Slamhammer run over to top half of Mongo. Bottom half Mongo still in Dinosaur mouth. “Mongo! Oh, Mongo, I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t worry, Master fix Mongo. Master fix everything.”
Master like it when Mongo call him Master.