I need to get a job, and I know I’m not the only one. Because unemployment is still more widespread in this country than eyebrow piercings at a Juggalo Gathering (low-hanging fruit, snatch) or “coexist” stickers at an Ani DiFranco concert’s parking lot (this being fruit that’s resting on the ground). And like a lot of people currently looking for work, this is the first time in my life, at least since I was 15, that I haven’t had an actual job.
And I haven’t had a real job in a long time. Not since I hurt my back working at a medical warehouse lifting heavy shit and loading up trucks. Sure, I’m a world famous novelist now thanks to my book Nefarious Twit, and I got legions of fans from as far away as Mongolia but I still need to make some extra cabbage. Also some benefits would be nice. But living as I do now, off the corpse of the old world, hustling together funds as a freelancer and novelist, I’ve learned one important thing about myself: I miss wearing a uniform and hating humanity.
For some reason those two things seem to go hand in hand.
So I’ve decided to get back out into the workforce the best way I know how, with lethal force. I’ve decided that the only job I’m now fit for is becoming a professional henchman. You heard me, costumed villainy seems like the most rewarding livelihood I can aspire to now after the drudgery and degradation of professional wordsmithing.
But I need to find the right gig. One that gives me a kickass suit along with some nice bennies, because I need to get the snaggle-trap that I call my mouth to a dentist immediately. But most importantly I need to find a hench-job that won’t end up getting me killed by some heroic dickweed.
Here are my options, these are the finest organizations that a tenderhoof, aspiring minion like myself could hope to join. Let’s compare packages and see what would get me the most not-dead as well as a decent 401k plan.
The Foot Clan
Yep, those Californian Raisin masked, ninja goons that work for Shredder who get their asses handed back to them routinely by the Ninja Turtles.
Pros: Okay, even though I was banking on the purple outfits, those actually only belong to the animated version of The Foot, who are all robots, (lousy scab robots taking all our jobs) the live-action Foot wear sexy and slimming black pajamas with weird, mesh bugged-out eye-protectors. I happen to think I’d fill one of those out nicely.
Cons: Upper management are incompetent dicks. Obviously, this is going to be a problem no matter who you hench for but it’s really painfully apparent here with The Foot. First off, you have a buffoon like Shredder as your number 1 boss. Shredder, who’s wearing a sparkly purple body suit that looks like the outfit that Eddie Murphy passed on wearing for Raw because it looked too gaudy.
On the real, his shit was so bedazzled it looked like Liza Minnelli, Liberace and Robocop getting into a sequined purse fight as J.J Abrams filmed the whole thing. … What I’m trying to say is that it was shiny.
Second off, you gotta deal with boss number 2, the bald guy Tatsu. Tatsu, who not only has a name which sounds like a fake lesbian Russia pop duo (seriously, they might not even be Russian) but the guy looks like the Grumpy Internet Cat doing a DeNiro impression. I can’t take orders from this guy.
Concerns: Does joining The Foot mean I have to renounce Pizza? Because if so, that’s a problem.
Marvel Comics’ “Advanced Idea Mechanics,” a bunch of evil scientists dressed like scary Devo trying to take over the world or build a time machine so Firefly was never canceled or something.
Pros: With your new bitchin’ yellow hazmat suit you can strap on your walkman and crank some Van Halen while you do the best Marty McFly from Back to the Future disguised as “Darth Vader from the Planet Vulcan” impression ever attempted.
Cons: Working under M.O.D.O.K., the ridiculously giant-headed floating grimace on a hoverchair who’s prone to screeching. I think I’d rather work at a burger stand under the Napoleonistic command of a 16-year-old “Manager on Duty” with a pimple decorated wispy moustache than take orders from this tiny-armed hover turd.
Concerns: Math. Science. Math-Science. Any number or fact heavy research really. Actually anything with the words “advanced” or “mechanics” usually frightens me. I’m not crazy about “ideas” either to tell the truth.
These aren’t the droids you’re look—fuck you, you’ve seen Star Wars. Even if you haven’t seen Star Wars, you’ve seen Star Wars. You know who these dinks are.
Pros: I’m guessing since you’re part of a giant outer space fascist regime that the bennies and pay have got to be pretty good. Right?
Cons: These guys do tend to get killed a lot. And even if you happen to survive long enough to get promoted there’s always the hanging threat of getting force choked by your supervisor.
Concerns: Wait, those were the droids I was looking for. Shiiit.
Pros: Sweet Kano mask. Also, there’s a lady in charge, nice to know I’ll be joining such a progressive group of killers.
Cons: Did you see Kill Bill? The Bride didn’t even let them keep their severed limbs. Yeah, the lucky few who came out of that internal organ super soaker blood fight alive weren’t even allowed to pick up their hands and feet in hopes to get them reattached. F that.
Concerns: Actually it might be hard to figure out which appendage belongs to you since everybody’s wearing matching suits. Hopefully she cut off your weapon hand and you have your initials written on your katana or battleaxe or whatever. Kinda like when your mom used to write your name on your lunchbox just in case some other dweeb had the exact same tin Thundercats food suitcase as you….moms.
Pros: Kid’s show, so nobody ever dies. Seriously, you could get shot down in a jet and you would always wind up parachuting safely down to the ground so you could hench again next week.
Cons: Being a lowly “blueshirt” Cobra Trooper seems pretty choice, what with the never getting shot angle, but the downside is working under Cobra Commander. A backstabbing, tantrum throwing maniac, who possess perhaps the most piercing and nasal shriek in cartoon history. Imagine getting reprimanded by that voice every day of your life. Even worse, just imagine that voice telling you, “Good job” or “Yeah, I’m going to need you to come in on Saturday. That would be great.”
Concerns: Baroness and Destro seem like swingers, am I right? What are the chances of a Cobra key party happening? And will Tomax and Xamot reenact my Wincest fan fiction?
The Monarch’s Henchmen
The butterfly guys who look like they have Cyclops from X-Men’s old skullcap on. 21, 24, come on, “Let me tell you a story about a little henchman named Speedy…”
Pros: You’re on the best show currently still being produced. Also Dr. Girlfriend, sorry, Dr. Mrs. The Monarch is super capable and a brilliant leader unfortunately…
Cons: Brock Samson is going to kill you (see the aforementioned Speedy.) Why? Because Dr. Mrs. The Monarch is only the number 2 in this operation and her husband The Monarch still calls most of the shots. This might be the cushiest job in organized evil if Dr. Mrs. The Monarch didn’t let her love blind her (mostly) to the fact that her husband is an obsessed, childish manboy with poor planning skills who not only routinely fails at his objectives but is constantly sending his henchmen to their deaths from his lack of foresight.
Concerns: I just hope 21 likes me, because I like him and I want us to be friends.
Gayboy Berserkers or Smegma Crazies
These are the leather-clad wasteland warriors who work for Lord Humongous (You know, the Ayatollah of rock and rolla) from Mad Max: The Road Warrior. Apparently there is some sort of sexual preference caste system at play here.
Pros: Depends what you’re into I suppose.
Cons: I really don’t do well out in the sun for too long. Granted, I may be fashioned with some kinky sort of leather gimp suit but I think I might even cook worse in that. When might I expect some sort of Nuclear winter? Perhaps I can just do this marauder thing on the offseason?
Gayboy Berserker seems pretty clear and concise to me, but what exactly are the duties and proclivities of a Smegma Crazy? Does it just mean you’re into both sexes and you’re really hygiene-conscious or just really fixated on that particular bodily substance, its accumulation and even (possibly) its acquirement?
Basically, I am nothing but concerns on this one.
If you’re thinking that it’s a bit of a stretch that I’m actively seeking a job in costumed villainy consider this:
“Fast food gives people diabetes and clothing stores have sweatshops, is there a company hiring teenagers that isn’t evil?”
This observation comes from the animated show Ricky and Morty, and is voiced by the character Summer, a teenage girl who is decidedly copasetic with the knowledge that she works for the devil, like the actual devil. My point here is that nowadays it’s hard, and not just for teenagers, to find employment in any company that you actually agree with morally 100 %. Because if you follow the money far enough it usually tends to have blood on it eventually. But none of this is really new, is it? Unless you’re working your dream job employment for most of us has always meant compromise on at least some level. Which is perfectly fine when you understand that most of adult life is about finding the compromises that we’re willing to make while still trying our best not to make the compromises that will unmake us.
Which leaves me back at becoming a henchmen, because if you’re already going to be compromised, better yet, if working life is going to force you into being a drone, you might as well be a drone that has some flair and maybe some sort of stupid helmet too. Sure, you’ll still be living under somebody else’s rules but at least you won’t be living under the same rules as everybody else.