By: Daniel Kendle

What’s going on fellas, it’s me — Mr. Whatshisname. Welcome back to JOYSTiCK Reviews, where for once in this series’s nearly 4-year run, nothing bad is happening today! Usually I begin episodes talking about how I’m in the middle of a nuclear fallout zone, have succumbed to a gambling addiction, or am locked in a Siberian prison cell, and so on. But no: here I am sitting at home, talking to you on my couch.

This unexpected serenity I’ve found myself in truly feels like an event horizon for this serial: out with the stupid opening gags and stories, in with, uh…reviewing stuff. Whouda’ thunk it, right? (Sighs) I suppose all that’s left to do is sit back, relax, and-!

What the-?! What the heck was that? My weekly brick throwing guy only shatters my windows on Fridays!

Oh? Looks like Steven (I call him Steven, we’re close like that) isn’t the culprit anyway; this brick isn’t the kind I usually order for. It’s very peculiar-looking: wires on the sides, a ticking clock on the front, and-! Hey, there’s a note on the bottom of it.

*Ahem*

“Dear Mr. Whatshisname,

I hope this letter finds you well. If you’re reading this, you should know that this was an assasination attempt, ordered on you by an anonymous subject and carried out by renowned wildlife poacher assassin Frederick von Franchisesequelheimer II.

Of course, given that you’re reading this message, this means that said plot failed. We apologize for our unprofessionalism, and plan on making it up to you in the near future.

Sincerely,

The Assassin’s Caravan for Righteous and Overt Neutralization of Young Masses (A.C.R.O.N.Y.M)

You’re joking! I was just reading an article written by Frederick von Franchisesequelheimer II the other day about giant lizards. I thought he was just a British wildlife expeditionary, not a murderer!

(Sighs) I guess there’s only 1 best step to take next: I’ve gotta get out of here! Sorry guys, no ‘League of Legends’ review today. Phew.

Sorry to cut this article short, but I’ve gotta run! Thanks for reading, I guess, and I’ll see you guys in a couple weeks when I’ve staked out a camp in the Rockies. See you lat-!

[Chk-ZRRT!]

---

“…and that’s where it ends.”

The quartet sat silent in front of the television. Flashes of static crept behind them and their shadows, the white of the screen illuminating the office’s dusty desks and chairs. Eyes remained peeled to the screen, as if the finished tape was merely a trick. A thin, wispy shadow waltzed over the screen to the VHS player, reuniting with a pale, bony hand.

“Hmph. Great going, Fred,” Kermit huffed. “A clean, open shot through an unobstructed window, and you still miss.”

“I told you, it wasn’t my fault!” Frederick von Franchisesequelheimer cried. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to defend himself during this meeting, nor would it be his last. “Someone nabbed my rifle on the subway, so when I got to his house I had to-!”

“‘And you had to throw a brick at him. Right, great. Wonderful, even.” The tape juggled between Mike Rosoph’s hands as he readied a cleaning wipe.

Kermit continued muttering even as Frederick sank down into his seat, regressed to a fugue state while he watched Mike scrub and dry his evidence. A murmur spread like a thin mist throughout the room, villains slowly revealing their thoughts on the blunder in private conversations. Annoyed by this disorderly chattering, Mike tossed the tape onto a cushioned chair and clasped his hands together.

“People, we’ve talked about this already! Bickering about another failed attempt doesn’t put aside that fact that Mr. Whatshisname is still alive.” 

The chorus of whispers softened. Frederick rose in his seat slightly.

“We’re all leaves of the same branch, see: villains created and written about in his past articles. Why, we’re probably being written about right now, actually! This meeting was created for a single purpose: to kill our creator. To kill our mortal god.”

“I believe the CEO’s right,” the Cocomelon Demon said. He stood up from his seat, all eyes turning to meet his confident gaze. “What’s the point in us bickering if we’re all part of a united cause?”

An awkward silence followed. If a lass was given a nickel for each fidgeting digit in the room, she could buy herself a candy bar. After a minute or so, Mike Rosoph regained his composure and cleared his throat.

“Mr. Yeast, Communist automobile manufacturer from ‘How to Become Extremely Wealthy and Powerful in Just a Few Easy Steps.’ 

Hearing his name, Mr. Yeast blushed and smiled shyly. The other villains looked at him and Mike in confusion.

“Samuel Sand, divorced asylumist from ‘Top 5 Genius Uses for a Jar of Sand.’

“Guilty as charged,” he chuckled.

“Kermit the Frog and the Replicadomon, abyssal assailants from ‘The Ballad of Fozzie Bear’ and its sequel.

The pair snickered, the former-mentioned patting the other’s hide. Seeing their positive reception, the CEO continued his monologue quicker.

“Dracula from ‘The Bloodbacks.’ Cocomelon Demon from the 11th episode of ‘JOYSTiCK Reviews.’ Army of disgraced bears from ‘Ranking Every Species of Bear from Worst to Best.’”

A terse uproar of growls and snorts came from the small battalion of bears, clustered in the far back corner. At this, Mr. Yeast quietly grimaced in disgust.

“Frederick Von Franchisesequelheimer, world-famous wildlife poacher – and human murderer – from ‘Ranking Kaiju Designs.’ I, Mike Rosoph, CEO of Microsoft from the creative writing piece ‘“X,”’ say all of your names for this reason: you’re all villains. Evil, conniving, wicked: such are the terms that’ve been used by Mr. Whatshisname to describe each of your appearances. This man, this narcissistic, inhuman wretch, must pay for his sins against us. Payment…in blood.”

Burning ardor inflamed the small crowd, a wildfire-like mass of man and beast alike. Such resolve soon became an echoing chant, the room filling with the sound of a fledgling ember maturing and developing into a tyrannical song. The tune in question?

‘How You Remind Me’ by Nickelback. The most villainous song of all.