The Doctor is In

by Weezil_Brony

The Frickin' Breakfast Club

The infamous criminal mastermind sat atop his mobile throne -a posh, angular chair with black leather accents, and a control panel on the arm that gave him complete kinetic control- staring directly into the camera mounted on a tripod in front of him. He sat in front of an aged mahogany desk adorned with a picture of his parents, and a bright red telephone. Behind the camera, there sat all of his colleagues; Frau Farbissina and Number Two on a red-and-white striped loveseat, and Mustafa, Random Task and Patty O’Brien -who was currently eating a bowl of marshmallow cereal- sat in a mossy green velvet couch. Hanging on the pale-white walls of the circular room were all masterfully-rendered portraits of himself -he didn’t care for the previous decorum- and behind him, he could have beheld through several large windows a massive gated courtyard, where his henchman patrolled in groups. He could hear the rambunctious protesters outside of the fence crying for “justice” and “liberty”. Several gunshots outside quickly silenced the group.

But he would not look outside, as his gaze was focused on the camera in front of him. A henchman silently counted down from five, using his fingers as a visual reference. Doctor Evil took a deep breath; he could smell the sulphur from the barrels of the various weapons that had fired in the last hour… and cinnamon. It brought a grin to his face.

Three. Two. The henchman gestured for him to proceed, and watched eagerly -as did the rest of his evil entourage- to hear what he had to say.

He gave the camera a sly grin. “Greetings, my fellow Americans… Perhaps I shouldn’t say that; after all, I hail from Belgium, and you all hail from the Land of the Free. Or rather, the Land of the…” His pinky was raised up to the corner of his mouth in his trademark pose, “...Not, free?” There were three more gunshots outside.

“As most of you probably know,” he continued, “the former President of the United States was recently… impeached,” he said, with dark emphasis on the final word. “As is the protocol of the New World Empire, I -the Great and Powerful Doctor Evil- will be taking his place. My message of peace and prosperity still extends to each and every one of you. All that I request in return is that you all swear fealty and allegiance to me, and me alone.

“Those that do not agree to my offer will be imprisoned,” he continued. “Those that would break this pact once formed will be executed. Those accused of treason against your new ruler… your punishment will be decided by either me, or one of my closest associates.

“My offer extends to the rest of the world as well,” he said, holding his hands out as if gesturing to a large crowd en masse. “As you have all been made aware of, several hundred nuclear weapons have been embedded deep beneath the Earth’s crust in and around several powerful countries around the world, and should any country choose to deny my generous offer… Well, you all have seen what happened to the Soviets, have you not?” The memory of watching the explosion via high-orbit satellite made him bunch his lips in giddiness, and his pinky rose once more to his mouth.

“In exactly twenty four hours,” he resumed after a moment of reminiscence, “any country that does not submit to my will shall be the target of a hostile military takeover… or destroyed. Oh, and one more thing… To all world leaders; in order to join my New World Empire, you must first pay me a hefty sum equivalent to… One million dollars.

“You have my demands, Planet Earth,” he said in conclusion. “Submit, or be obliterated.”

“And, we’re off!” said the Henchman, who then proceeded to fold up the camera. The doctor fiddled with the controls on his chair, and he maneuvered himself around the desk and towards his standing-and-applauding entourage.

“Bravo, Doctere!” said Frau, pronouncing the final syllable as air. “Zat was und vonderful address.”

“Thank you, Frau,” he said proudly. “You don’t think that one million dollars was too little, do you?”

“Absolutely not,” said a grinning Number Two. “A million dollars was the perfect amount of money to charge.”

“You think so?” the doctor inquired. “I thought I should have sprung for maybe three million, but that didn’t really sound right.”

“No,” Frau interjected. “Von million likes to roll off ze tongue, no?”

“See, that’s what I was thinking too,” the doctor replied. “I was worried that I was making a fool of myself in front of the henchmen.”

“You? A fool? Nonsense!” said a jovial Patty O’Brien with a mouthful of cereal, who then held out his bowl towards him. “Want some of me Lucky Charms?” he asked in an Irish accent.

The doctor looked at him strangely for a moment, before slowly driving his chair towards a now-unsure Patty. He leaned in so that they were only a foot away, before saying, “...How ‘bout no?”

The Irish assassin shrugged. “More for me then.”

The doctor gave him a weird stare for a moment. “...Right…” Then, to Mustafa -who wore his trademarked fez and black sunglasses- he said, “Where is the First Lady presently?”

“She is in the Presidential Bedroom,” he replied, “under observation by my latest invention; robotic sharks with lasers.”

“Are the lasers attached to their heads?” he asked.

“But of course,” Mustafa said with a smirk.

The doctor couldn’t help but squirm in his seat in delight. “That sounds absolutely wonderful, my Crimean friend. Now, I do believe that there is still one loose end that needs… cut.”

“But of course, Doctere,” Frau said. “He is vaiting for you at ze Vashington Monument.”

“Very good, Frau,” replied the Doctor. “Let us be on our way then!”

“Um, Doctor Evil?” called a familiar voice from behind him. “Would you like to take Mister Bigglesworth with you?”

“Hmm… You know what?” said the doctor, who slowly spun his chair around, “I think I would, Fluttershy.”

“Here you go,” said a smiling yellow pegasus, currently flapping her wings so that she hovered directly in front of him. In her arms was a fluffy Mister Bigglesworth, which she quickly set in his lap. The cat purred softly, nuzzling into his evil villain’s coat.

“Thank you, Fluttershy,” said the doctor. “I appreciate and value our friendship.”

Fluttershy beamed back at him, her face breaking out into a fierce blush. “I like our friendship too.”

Then, he opened his arms, gesturing with his fingers for her to come closer. “Here, come give me a hug.” The timid pegasus slowly approached, and the two embraced in a warm and friendly-

“BAAAAAAAH!” The doctor flung his torso upwards -causing the blanket to fall to his waist- and flailed his arms wildly in front of him. Something meowed loudly, and he felt Mister Bigglesworth fly forward and onto the ground next to the couch. His heart beat frantically in his chest, and his bald head was covered in beads of sweat. Eventually, he slowly gained control of his breathing, and looked around the room he was in.

He could barely make out anything in the darkness, but due only to proximity, he could make out the green couch that he currently laid on, and the blue wool blanket that covered his still-clothed figure. Outside, he could still see stars, but a faint orange glow creeped up from above the treeline.

Jesus Christ, what’s with these nightmares? he wondered. Normally, I might say that it was a side effect of the freezing process… but I think that I may need to put more consideration into just what I attribute to my Crimean Tatar engineer’s design… Goddamn, my throat is parched. Stretching his arms and licking his lips, he removed the blanket from his person -allowing it to fall onto the floor- and made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water.

-Insert Austin Powers Wipe Here-

Sweetie Belle let loose a powerful yawn -though it came out very quietly- and she rubbed her drooping eyes with a hoof. This is way too early for a secret clubhouse meeting, she thought as she approached the cottage directly in front of her.

Sweetie Belle felt a wave of apprehension flood over her mind as she neared the front door. She had yet to behold the creature that was undoubtedly the target of the town’s gossip. She had, however, heard the various stories that were circulating around. Of course, she knew that one or two had to be made up -that he could shoot lasers out of his eyes, or that he wanted to take over the world- but there were also many other stories that may have had some bearing -that he could use mind control, or that he was a horrible cynic.

Whatever that means, she thought idly. Her contemplation of the word cynic was quickly brought to a halt, however, as she stood in front of the main entrance to the cottage; a simple wooden door. She was about to reach up to knock her hoof against the door when she beheld a peculiar red stain about five or so feet up. Though the dim lighting hindered her abilities by a great magnitude, it did not take her long to deduce what the stain was.

Blood? Why is there a big blood stain on Fluttershy’s door? The wave of apprehension became a flood, and suddenly Sweetie Belle felt the sudden urge to turn around and bolt back home. But alas, she had made a promise to her friends to deliver the future Crusader to the clubhouse. And so, she swallowed down the lump of anxiety in her throat, and she raised her hoof to the door.

Without warning, the door opened a fraction of the way, and Sweetie Belle jumped back in fright as a horrifying face leered at her from inside.

“Are you the guide?” he asked in a hushed tone. Once her heart rate had died down, she nodded. “Good.” Slowly, the door opened all the way, and Sweetie Belle could see him in all of his terrifying splendor.

Well that crosses those rumors off the list, she thought with relief, referring to a few particularly-ridiculous rumors about his appearance; one saying he was small and green, and another saying he looked like a gorilla. ...I can kinda see it, she thought as she further examined the anatomical build of the space being.

“Were you about to knock on the door?” he then questioned her. “Are you trying to wake up the whole goddamn house?” Before she could even respond, he shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. Now, I want you to… take me to your leader.” He brought his pinky up to the corner of his mouth and snickered. Sweetie Belle cringed.

That, was terrible, she thought, turning around and walking back down the trail of which she had travelled, with the doctor following close behind her.

-Insert Austin Powers WIpe Here-

The sun had just begun to peak over the tree line when they had arrived back at what the doctor recognized as the orchard of which he had first encountered his less-than-pestiferous protege. His present guide -a white unicorn of the same size as the others, only with a pink-and-periwinkle mane- had not said a word to him since they had met at the house, much to his relief. A good trait for a henchman, he thought.

The orchard itself was only a half-hour away from the cottage, and already his legs had begun to chafe. God damnit, he mentally complained, scratching at his inner thighs through his pants to relieve the irritation. Next time I freeze myself, I’m packing some frickin’ Aloe Vera.

“Here we are!” she exclaimed, looking back at the doctor. “Official HQ of the Cutiemark Crusaders!” On the last word, her voice cracked horrifically, causing the doctor to cringe.

Jesus Christ, no wonder she didn’t want to say anything, he thought.

The clubhouse itself was nothing impressive; a simple yellow-painted box with a brown shingled roof, full glass windows -a faint light radiated from inside- and an oak door. Okay, perhaps a little impressive, he ceded, having not expected the hideout of juveniles to show such craftsmanship. “And they’re inside?” he asked her.

“Uh huh!” she replied, nodding.

“How many?”

“Just two others,” she informed him. “Scootaloo and Applebloom.”

“Who now?” he inquired, not recognizing the names. ...Oh, wait. “You mean ‘Tiny-Me’?”

“Uh, yeah, sure,” she said with uncertainty, before turning back towards the clubhouse. At first, the doctor was apprehensive about having to scale the tree to get inside, but what he had failed to notice before was that there existed a patio attached to the front of the domicile, with a ramp that declined down to the ground.

Okay, that’s pretty impressive, he ceded, before following the filly up the ramp. The as-of-yet unnamed pony raised a hoof to the door, knocking in a cryptic pattern that the doctor instantly recognized as the beginning to Camp Town Ladies. Shortly afterwards, the door was opened to reveal a well-lit interior. He saw his apprentice standing there in the doorway, a grin on her face.

“Glad y’all could make it!” she exclaimed, before being shushed by an unseen pony inside; one could only assume it was Scootaloo. Grinning sheepishly, Tiny-Me stepped out of the doorway, and spoke in a lower volume. “Come inside. We ain’t got much time. School’s in a few hours.”

The doctor raised an eyebrow. They attend classes? ...I’m not sure why I didn’t assume that in the first place. He rubbed his eyes with his fists, before stepping inside. I wonder if my own mind is beginning to deteriorate, like Frau’s. After all, I am fifty… eighty eight, he corrected, taking into account his thirty years in cryostasis.

The interior of the small building was, he must admit, nothing short of homey. A decorative rug dominated the center of the floor -the wooden planks of which had been painted a sort of teal color- and a table in the far corner was covered in pieces of parchment, with words scrawled on -and crossed out- in black ink. A couple end tables sat on opposite walls, and a lantern on each one of them being the source of light for the entire room. He was even able to stand upright once inside; though, he still had to duck his head under the door frame.

“So, what do ya think?” Tiny-Me then asked him, looking up at him -as did the other two- with wide eyes.

After giving the entire room another quick check, he shrugged. “It’s… not the worst evil lair I’ve ever seen,” he said, offering his compliment with a tablespoon of salt. “So you have me here. Now what was it you wanted to discuss?”

“Well, first off,” Tiny-Me began, “I don’t think mah sister Applejack gave ya a chance, an’ I think it was wrong of her t’ pass judgement on ya like that.”

The doctor released a faux cough into his fist so as to cover up his barely-suppressed snickering.

“Also, we’ve all been blank-flanks for a long time,” she continued, oblivious to the doctors’ poorly-disguised joviality, “an’ I’m tired of Diamond Tiara pickin’ on me for it!”

“Yeah!” supplemented the other two fillies in unison.

The doctor brought his fist back down to his side, and gave them all a stare of confusion. “You’re bullied by a frickin’ headpiece? And I thought my old henchmen had no backbones.”

“Diamond Tiara is this stuck up daddy’s girl at our school,” informed Scootaloo. “She thinks she’s better than everyone just because her dad makes a lot of money.”

“She picks on everyone,” added the still-unlabeled white filly, “but we get the worst of it for not having our Cu-”

A yellow hoof was what silenced her words. Tiny-Me gave her a look of warning. “He doesn’t like it when ya call it that.” Then back to the doctor, “Rule number two, right?”

“Correct, my apprentice,” the doctor said. He was impressed with how the most-likely-pre-adolescent adhered to the rules he had set forth, though he would never let it show. “So, it’s a fellow student that bothers you. It reminds me of my own childhood, in Bruges.”

“Really?” Tiny-Me said, surprised. “You were bullied?”

“For a very long time,” the doctor replied honestly. “They would make fun of me for the most trivial of things. ‘Your clothes are potato sacks!’ or ‘Your breath smells like onions!’ and even ‘Your real parents died in an explosion!’”

“That’s terrible!” said the white pony. “Why would anyone say such horrible things?”

“Well they were also true,” the doctor informed. “My clothes for the longest time did indeed come from common household objects -such as burlap sacks- and our diet was quite heavy in onions, as we could not afford anything else.”

“But, the thing about your parents wasn’t true,” Scootaloo interjected, “right?”

He stared at her blankly.

“Oh…” She then decided that the floor was much more interesting now than the minute prior, and directed her gaze upon it.

“So what got them t’ stop?” inquired Tiny-Me.

The doctor kneeled down onto one knee, so that he was closer to their eye level, and said in a chillingly-deliberate tone, “...I got revenge.”

The three fillies took a couple steps back, looks of worry and uncertainty growing on their faces. “Uh, mah sister said revenge don’t do nothin’ but ask for more trouble,” Tiny-Me told him. “She said that they’ll get what’s comin’ to ‘em eventually.”

“But you’re not very satisfied with that solution, are you?” he countered, donning a coy grin. “You don’t want it eventually; you want it now.”

Tiny-Me frowned. “Well yeah, but-”

“So take it!” he said; his voice booming much to the chagrin of the others. “That’s the beauty of being a villain; you want something? You take it.”

“But that’s wrong!” exclaimed the unicorn.

“Says who?” the doctor rebutted. “Was it the same goody-two-shoes that told you that revenge is wrong?” Then, back to Tiny-Me, “I could see it in your eyes when you said her name; you hate her, don’t you? She’s hurt you plenty, hasn’t she?”

He then stood back up, and spoke to all three of them at once. “Aren’t you all sick and tired of her bullshit? Aren’t you frickin’ fed up with the ridicule? With the horrid pain their words bring you? All the goddamn poking and prodding you about things you can’t control?” He then crossed his arms. “Besides, they said that they’ll get what’s coming to them eventually. Well, who’s to say that eventually hasn’t already come? Who’s to say that it’s not you who must take action, instead of relying on fate?” His arms fell back down to his sides, and his hands were balled into fists. “You know where fate got me?” he questioned, jabbing a thumb towards himself. “Stuck in a land full of talking goddamn horses!” His exclamation was followed by absolute silence for what felt like the longest time.

“...He’s right.”

Everyone’s attention was directed back at the yellow filly who looked up at the doctor; a renewed vigor in her eyes. “I’m tired of bein’ pushed around!”

“Me too!” cried Scootaloo.

“Me three!” added the unicorn.

“That’s the spirit!” said the doctor cheerfully. “Embrace the utter hatred, and use it against all of your problems! Stick with me, and you’ll never have to deal with anyone ever again!”

The three fillies then joined their hooves together in a form of huddle, before flinging up into the air and crying, “CUTIEMARK CRUSADERS, SUPERVILLAINS!”

The doctor cringed, plugging his ears for the duration of the deciblular assault. Once their cheerful screaming had subsided, he removed his fingers. “Okay, three things; one… Right in my frickin’ ear,” he began, rubbing the side of his head. “Two; you’re all more henchmen than villains. And three; we’re not using that name anymore.”

The three turned back towards him, smiles on their faces. “Then what’ll we be called?” inquired Tiny-Me.

The doctor placed a hand on his chin, deep in thought, when Scootaloo exclaimed, “What about the Legion of Doom?”

“That sounds… just, awful,” the doctor replied coldly. “We need something that won’t draw attention to ourselves.”

“...What about Virtucon?” added the white filly.

“What, are we naming an evil organization or a frickin’ robot?” he retorted. Suddenly, the doctor had an idea. Of course! Why didn’t I think of this sooner?! “We will be called… the Million Dollar Club!”

The three ponies looked at each other with disappointed faces. “Do we have to be called that?” pleaded Scootaloo.

The doctor looked back down on him, the grin he had donned having disappeared. “What’s so bad about my idea?”

The three shared another glance. “It’s not that it’s bad…”

“It’s just…” Tiny-Me continued.

“Why don’t we just stick with our current name?” said the white unicorn. “People already know about it, and it won’t draw suspicion because we have meetings all the time already.”

“Yeah!” exclaimed Tiny-Me. “That’s a really good idea, Sweetie Belle!”

Doctor Evil brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, and his face scrunched up in a horrid cringe. “Really? Sweetie Belle? You frickin’ horses have the worst goddamn names, you know that?” Suddenly, another thought occurred to him. “That reminds me; Tiny-Me already has a nickname, so you two need one as well.”

“Ooh! Sweetie Belle could be the Songstress, because she’s really good at singing!”

“And Scootaloo could be the Road Runner, because she’s amazing with a scooter!”

The doctor rolled his eyes. “Whatever floats your boat.”

“Aw, why don’t I get t’ choose mah own nickname?” Tiny-Me complained.

“Because TIny-Me is exactly what you are; a tinier version of myself. You are my apprentice, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” began Tiny-Me, “but I don’t want anyone makin’ fun of me for havin’ that nickname.”

The doctor placed his face into his hand, slowly shaking his head. Oh, for the love of- “Did you not just hear my evil speech two frickin’ minutes ago?”

It didn’t take Tiny-Me long to perk right back up, with a somewhat-sinister grin. “Oh yeah! Bein’ a villain is gonna be fun!”

“Uh, girls?” said an uneasy Road Runner. “It’s almost daylight out. We gotta get going if we don’t want ponies wondering where we are.”

“Oh shoot, that’s right,” commented a miffed Tiny-Me. It was at that time that the three all brought their hooves back together. The doctor plugged his ears once more, but pulled them back out upon seeing that they were all staring at him expectantly.

“What do you want?” he questioned.

“You’re a member of th’ club now,” Tiny-Me stated. “That means you get t’ do this with us!”

His shoulders suddenly slumped. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.”

“Oh c’mon!” the Songstress whined. “Just this once? To finalize it?”

After a moment of reluctance, the doctor finally ceded, placing his hand on top of the other hooves. I can’t believe I’m subjecting myself to this.

“CUTIEMARK CRUSADERS, SUPERVILLAINS! YAY!”

His newfound proximity almost brought tears to his eyes as the verbal assault deteriorated his eardrums. The fillies continued to stare at him, and he sighed.

“Cutiemark Crusaders supervillains, yay,” he mumbled, much to the amusement of the others.

This is gonna be a long day.

Author's Note:

And... new chapter. Brought to you by the letter "Q".

EDIT: Changed the chapter title so that it references something somewhat similar.

Comments

[Snow123]

LOL! Oh, poor Doctor Evil.

[Isshiki Kotonashi]

I wonder if my own mind is beginning to deteriorate, like Frau’s. After all, I am fifty… eighty eight, he corrected, taking into account his thirty years in cryostasis.

Out of curiosity, are you rejecting the fact that he and Austin are presumably around the same age (due to them being brothers) or are you suggesting Austin is that old? Not that it matters much.

I still love your characterization of Dr. Evil

[Rootbeer Dew]

Doctor Evil in the CMC!

[Darth Arcaneus]

Hey will Doctor Evil meet Equestria's resident Doctor?

[Lag Incarnate]

Have Equestrians invented hearing aids yet? Because I think Doctor Evil will be needing some in the near future at this rate.

[Procket12]

Oh....It's so deliciously EVIL.......You'd better watch your frickin’ self Diamond Tiara because this is one doctor who DOES make house calls.

[Weezil_Brony]

4461199 In the first movie, Austin already looks like he is in his mid-forties, and Doctor Evil refers to Austin as "an aging hipster", implying that he can't be that young. Or at least, that's how I interpreted it.

[Isshiki Kotonashi]

4470789 Fair enough

[GameJunkie7]

“Thank you, Fluttershy,” said the doctor. “I appreciate and value our friendship.”

Fluttershy beamed back at him, her face breaking out into a fierce blush. “I like our friendship too.”

Then, he opened his arms, gesturing with his fingers for her to come closer. “Here, come give me a hug.” The timid pegasus slowly approached, and the two embraced in a warm and friendly-

"BAAAAAAAH!"

BEST. SCENE. EVER!