For J.P.

Lyle pushed the mashed potatoes around on his plate and listened to the muted crash and bang of the cafeteria around him. Gravy oozed over the mound to pool in a pattern that tugged at his imagination. A few careful swoops of the spoon and the tepid brown liquid filled the newly formed eye sockets. Careful carving of a jaw line was followed by the creation of a few sparse teeth.

"Skull Island," he whispered and gave a small silent "Bwahaha".

Glancing around the room to see if anyone was paying attention, he gave evil laughter another go. He decided, even slightly muted, he liked the feel of it curling up the back of his throat.

He pulled a pen from his pocket and began to scribble on his napkin: ' Rabid Monkeys'. He stared at the words for a few moments before adding '- with laser guided poo-flinging apparatus'.

Sue from accounting passed by the table and he pushed the napkin under the edge of his plate. Grabbing the spoon he smiled up at her as she passed. She smiled back and continued on to sit with Miranda, from data entry, at the table across the room.

"My secret remains safe," he mumbled as a tiny smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.

He used the spoon again, this time to position a line of peas around the tuber based geography of Skull Island. Then he surreptitiously tugged the napkin back into view and added 'Land Mines' to his list. He repositioned a few of the peas in the gravy ocean to cover any gaps in the defenses.

'Orange Jumpsuits ' was added to the list. He chewed at the end of his pen for a moment before inserting the word 'Corduroy' between the two words.

"I will see my minions coming." He snickered as he put a double underline below the word corduroy, "I shall hear my minions coming. I shall not be usurped." He made corduroy shh-shup noises as he watched the gravy thickening.

His pen began to wander aimlessly over the paper:
SECURITY
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Attack Bees
Grizzled Thick-set Marmot Perimeter Guards
Bubble wrap flooring
Electrified Slinkies at the top of all stairwells...He began singing quietly to himself, "What kills on stairs alone or in pairs and makes a slinkity sound..."

He dropped the pen and the tune to pick up his fork. He poked at the pasta salad on his plate while watching Sue and Miranda giggle over their diet sodas. He took a bite and picked up the pen again. It began to sketch the hourglass curves of a female form. Beside the doodle he began another list:
EVIL ASSISTANT
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Long Black Hair
Cool Foreign Accent - Russian???
Ruthless
Really really long legs... really really High Heels
Doesn't mind if toilet seat left up.

No....that last one didn't quite feel right. He rolled the phrasing around in his head.

Exists to serve only me.

Still felt wrong to him. He scratched it out.

Obeys my every whim.

He gave a snort then violently crossed out the entire category to replace it with one word: FEMBOT!!!!!

At that moment, Ken from accounts receivable slid into the seat next to him. Lyle scrambled to tuck the ink covered napkin under the edge of the plate, but Ken was faster.

"What the hell is this?" Ken said a little too loudly as he snatched up the crumpled plans for world domination and waved them in the air.

Lyle mumbled something incoherent as he ducked his beet red face closer to his cold lunch plate. He stabbed a spoon into the center of Skull Island and tried to surreptitiously create a 10.9 quake that would destroy all evidence of his Fortress of Doom.

Ken read the first list items out loud to be greeted by a collective giggle from the cafeteria crowd. Ken's voice built to a crescendo as it reached the end, "FEMBOT exclamation point exclamation point exclamation point exclamation point exclamation point!"

And Steve from R&D blew red jello out his nose.

"Well, Lyle..." Ken snickered, " or should I say, Darth Lyle, it would appear that I have foiled your plans!"

Lyle dashed from the room to the sound of the crowd building up to a chant of "Darth Darth Darth"

Back in the safety of his cubicle, Lyle carefully tidied the surface of his desk. Paperclips were returned to the neat magnetic box on the left corner. The red Swingline stapler was carefully lined up against the edge of the desk calendar. He sighed and pulled a Sharpee from its labeled desk drawer cubby. He pulled off the marker's cap and inhaled the sharp scent as he reached below the desk. His hand returned to the pristine surface carrying a tattered piece of paper with yellowed bits of tape on the edges.

NEMESIS
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Mary
Clyde
Walt Disney
Bob the mailman
Uncle George
Sister Agnes
AT&T

Taking great care with his penmanship, Ken was added to the list.