Emperor Keto Makes An Appearance

Who: Emperor Keto, Minion #332756a
Where: The Evil Chamber (Fitness Centre on alternate Thursdays)
When: Just after the BD's close escape
==============
<< SNIP >>
> "Excellent. With the tracking device in him and Project Placenta
> nearing completion, we shall be capable of tracking those rebels.
> Alert Emperor Keto immediately," said Emperor Cerebrum, standing up
> out of his revolving chair.
> "The Universe shall soon be safe for ointment and psychiatry."
<< END SNIP >>
The door slid silently open.
"Enter," said a cold voice. The shivering underling walked slowly inside,
looking around and trying to discern anything in the darkness.
"What," stated the voice. It wasn't a question, more of an order that
happened to share some words with common questions.
"Emp...Emperor Cerebrum commanded me to inform you that we will soon be
capable of tracking those rebels," managed the man.
There was a pause, then a quiet sigh in the darkness.
"Do you mean to tell me," the voice began again, sounding slightly
exasperated, "That the rebel vessel...got away?"
The minion gulped. "Yes, sir."
There was another pause. A very long, uncomfortable pause, filled with
possibility.
It was very, very long.
Eventually, the underling decided that he had to say SOMEthing.
"...sir?"
"The Death Jar did not destroy the vessel?" hissed the voice, right behind the
minion's left ear. The unfortunate soul jumped a foot in the air, but dared not
turn.
"No sir! It did not, sir!"
"That Jar was personally designed by me to destroy whole civilisations," the
voice continued, "The ointments with which it should have been loaded were
designed by me. The trajectories which the various viscosity-laden liquids
would have followed were designed by pathetic creatures such as yourself, but
they would have sufficed. So why, please tell me, did the ship not melt into a
small space puddle?"
"...it was covered in mustard, sir," swallowed the underling.
Pauses had met their match in this one. It was not a hesitation, it was four
billion years of silence compressed and crushed into a few choice seconds.
"I see."
There was the sound of a squeaking lid being turned, and a clink of glass.
"This," murmured the voice behind the man's ear, "May sting a little."
And then something was poured on his neck.
-- Ten Minutes Later --
"Interesting," murmured Emperor Keto, sitting in his Chair of Evil (which
doubled as the Abdominal Crunch machine on alternate Thursdays), "I didn't
expect that colour."
The small purple pool on the floor in front of him said nothing.
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OOC: Meh, I'm out of practice. Hope that's okay. :P