Patrick McLean - How To Succeed in Evil

The bad video is replaced by an animation that reads “Circus Man Crisis.” On another TV an old man wearing a cape shaped like a windsock is giving commentary. This is bad, thinks Agnes, very, very bad.

Mistevio is completely unaware of the televisions behind him. His eyes are locked on his prey. And, all in all, he thinks he’s doing pretty good. Agnes is in his thrall. That’s what those books on mesmerism had called it, “thrall.” Now it is time to command her.

“Arise woman!”

Agnes ignores him completely. She is watching S.W.A.T. vans surround the outside of the building. As a helicopter flies by on the screen, and she can hear it outside her window.

“Arise!” Mistevio says. Perhaps Agnes is partially deaf. Perhaps Mistevio is just desperate. Agnes set her jaw and stand up. She turns on her heel and makes for Edwin’s office. This was all her fault. If she had never asked him to meet with that horrible man… She just hoped Edwin wouldn’t be too angry with her.

“Woman, I have not commanded you to go!” Mistevio shouts, arms spread wide.

Agnes blinks and turns around. “My goodness, are you still here? I had forgotten about you completely.”

Mistevio deflates. He is a failure. Worse, he is a non-threatening failure. He slinks across the lobby and presses the call button for the elevator. But the waiting proves too uncomfortable. He bows his head and scuttles into the stairwell. It is a long way to walk, but Mistevio is familiar with downward mobility.

Lifto is uncomfortable under Edwin’s gaze. The silence is terrifying. Why doesn’t the tall man say anything?

Lifto was going to explain that he had robbed several banks on his way over to the appointment, but somehow, he cannot. The words have frozen in his throat. And still, Edwin just stares at him. Outwardly, the tall man is emotionless.

Lifto knows he has screwed up. He can’t imagine why he should be afraid of Edwin, but all the same he feels threatened. They say that Edwin is not a man to be trifled with. But they never say why. When the door opens, Lifto jumps.

Agnes says, “Edwin dear, a moment?”

Edwin rises from his chair and walks to the door.

“I’m terribly sorry, but it would appear that Mr. Lifto—” Agnes began

“The Magnificent,” Lifto says without much force.

“—has been an exceptionally naughty boy.”

“Yes, I know. He was just about to explain it to me.” A helicopter roars by, rattling the windows.

“The authorities have surrounded the building. I’m afraid you will have to cut your meeting short.”

“Your meeting Agnes, yours,” says Edwin. He looks out the window. Far, far below he sees tiny figures in riot gear cordoning off the streets. The police do not concern Edwin. They are well-trained and well-leashed. The real question is why are they waiting? Edwin’s lobby should be overrun by men with mustaches and Lexan shields.

Edwin has no interest in protecting Lifto. Or even aiding him at all. There will be no stand-off. No negotiation. No daring last minute escape. He will tell Lifto to turn himself in. But how to get Lifto to take his advice? “Agnes, are you pleased with yourself?”

“Edwin now is not the time.”

“Small mistakes, Agnes. It is the small mistakes that compound into disaster.”

“Edwin, I am sorry,” Agnes says, losing her patience, “but what are we going to do?”

“I think you have done enough for one day.” Edwin is feeling powerless. He realizes he’s taking it out on Agnes, but can’t seem to do anything else. He watches the ants erect barricades far below and tries to get a handle on himself. There is a knock on the window.

Edwin looks up. On the other side of the glass floats –

“EXCELSIOR!” roars Lifto as he lifts Edwin’s magnificent redwood desk over his head. His leopard skin cape falls to the ground. Now the world has no defense against the sight of his absurd, bulging redness. “I will defeat you! Now all will know the true strength of Lifto the Magnificent!” Lifto steps forward and begins to hurl the desk through the window.

“STOP!” yells Agnes. As if the universe was a sensible, orderly place, everyone freezes.

Agnes advances on Lifto. “PUT. IT. DOWN.” Lifto looks around uncertainly. He returns the desk to the ground.

“This office is filled with nice things and I will not see them wrecked by the horseplay of a few overgrown children!”

“Ma’am, you’d best stand aside,” Excelsior says, the midwestern earnestness in his voice flattened by two inches of safety glass.

“And you,” she exclaims, whirling on the flying hero without missing a beat, “of all people you should have the decency to use a door.”

“What?”

“You know very well what I mean. You are a mere instant from destroying a three-story wall of glass in order to get to this, this —

“LIFTO THE MAGNIFICENT,” roars Lifto.

“Be SILENT!” shrieks Agnes. Lifto shrinks into the floor and wishes he was somewhere else. Edwin opens the balcony door. There is nothing to do but play it through. From far below he hears the wail of sirens.

“Excelsior, if you please,” says Edwin, every bit the gracious host.

All of this is confusing to Excelsior. Usually when he apprehends a dangerous supervillain, he is subject to instant attack upon arrival. Air-to-air missiles. Laser beams. Courtesy just doesn’t compute. He is certain it is some kind of trick. But even if it is, it’s nice for a change. He floats over to the balcony and touches down gently.

“And be sure to wipe your feet!” Agnes says.

Excelsior takes two steps backwards and wipes his spotlessly clean boots.

“Now then. Welcome to Windsor and Associates. Mr. Windsor will see you now,” says Agnes.

“Thank you Agnes.” Edwin is eager to play the host in an attempt to avoid the property damage that inevitably follows a clash of costumed apes. “Can we offer you something to drink?”

Excelsior points at Lifto, “I’m here for him.”

“Excellent choice. Agnes, a pot of Oolong. We’re going to sit down and talk this through.” Agnes glares at everyone in the room and then leaves.

“Lifto does not talk,” Lifto says unaware of irony and its manufacture.

“You know, Mr. Windsor, people judge a man by the company he keeps,” Excelsior says, doing his best to drip with folksy wisdom.

“People have also been known to judge a man by his appearance,” Edwin retorts as he casts a dubious eye towards Excelsior’s spandex.

“NO ONE CAN CATCH LIFTO!”

Excelsior circles around to the long end of the room. Lifto crouches behind the desk. “Now Lifto, you and I both know that’s not true. Are you going to come quietly?”

Edwin rolls his eyes at the cliche. Edwin is sick of feeling powerless. He knows what is going to happen. He knows why. He knows everything that either side will say or do, but for all his intelligence, there is nothing he can do to stop it.

“Lifto, I advise you not to resist,” says Edwin

“You want me to go QUIETLY!?!”

“I’m not sure you are capable of doing anything quietly,” says Edwin.

“Mr. Windsor, you should really be getting to a safe distance, so I can take care of some business.” Excelsior says, not taking his eyes off Lifto.

Edwin steps directly in front of Excelsior. “You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to destroy my office.”

“Yes I do. I catch the bad guys Mr. Windsor. That’s what I do.”

“NO ONE CAN CATCH LIFTO!”

“Then, by all means, catch him. Skip the battle.”

“But, I have to bravely defeat him in single combat.”

“You do not. Look, I don’t care if you want to hurt him. But why not just grab him and fly away? Batter him senseless in a vacant lot. Perhaps, the top of a mountain? Where property will not be damaged and Lifto will not be able to capture the inevitable hostage.”