Okay, this is kind of weird. A friend of mine, Pete Milan, and I wrote a bunch of comedy sketches a few years back. They're all gone now, but this one was about Doctor Doom. And so I present it to you, the fine folks reading the Howling Curmudgeons. I think you'll find it amusing, which is why I share it with you now.
Also, because I just plain love Doctor Doom. You have to love a villain who takes over the world with the aid of a big purple gem and a second rate Daredevil villain in his underpants.
Here comes A Date With DOOM!
INT:
A fancy and romantically lit restaurant. A WOMAN
is sitting at a table waiting for her date. Suddenly,
a man in a dark cloak cuts in front of our view, his
billowing cape obscuring most of our view.
MAN'S VOX
So, you are Angela D. Havernsham of 1117 Westmoreland
Drive, Sioux City, Iowa, formerly of 93 Franklin
Street, Bristol, RI, born at 3:15 AM on December 3rd,
1965, in the Special Obstetrics Ward of Massachusetts
General Hospital?
WOMAN'S VOX (from behind man)
Uh...yes...how did you know all of that? I didn't list
that on my application for the dating service...
MAN'S VOX
The dating service was merely a ruse, my dear. My
ownership of it, and hundreds more throughout the
world, allows me to begin the meticulous process of
screening the women of the world, in order that a
perfect date may be ensured...
A flash of green, as the cloak swirls, and the man seats himself. It's obvious who he is, but as he speaks the following lines, they appear in big block letters with rivets in them
A Date...WITH DOOM!
ANGELA
I...see. (looks about desperately for Allan Funt.)
So...uhm...do I call you Doom, or Doctor Doom, or
what?
DOOM
You may call me what you choose; Titles are of no
importance to Doom! Now, what would you like for an
appetizer? I hear the Truffles Almondine are fabulous
here....(Picks up menu) and my spies in the kitchen
inform me that the Essence de boeuf was made only this
morning.
ANGELA
You have spies in the kitchen?
DOOM
Of course. Doom knows all. How else would I ensure
that the accursed Richards! (stands up, screams in
Kirby pose) RIIIIICHARDS! YOU WILL DIE...er, ahem.
(sits back down) As I was saying, Doom is always
prepared for treachery.
ANGELA
Does...does that happen often?
DOOM
Does what happen�oh, yes. You must forgive me. At
times, my hatred of the accursed
Richards�RICHAAAAARDS!�gets the better of me. Please,
let us continue. I understand the Italian Ices here
are spectacular.
ANGELA
Well, uh...I do like desserts...
DOOM
As do I. Soon, in fact, Richards shall taste his just
desserts...a hideous pain at the hands of Doom!
RIIII�(catches himself) Now, please, order whatever
you like. Tonight is on the Kingdom of Latveria.
A Waiter approaches.
WAITER
Good evening, miss. Good evening, oh sovereign lord
and master.
DOOM
Cease your prattle, lackey! Read us the specials!
WAITER
As Doom commands! We have a lovely rack of lamb with
mint sauce, fresh swordfish steaks roast chicken in a
white whine sauce, and a creme brulee.
ANGELA
Is the chicken free-range?
WAITER
Uh...no, it is not.
DOOM
FOOL!
He blasts the Waiter with a terrible ray from his glove. The Waiter collapses, a burning heap.
ANGELA
HEY! Are you nuts?! It�s not his fault the chicken�s
not free-range!
DOOM
Bah! Blame is irrelevant. It is enough that he has
displeased you.
ANGELA
God, what are you, bipolar or something?
DOOM
No, not since the medication...
The Manager approaches.
MANAGER
Ah, Your Majesty. Is there some problem?
DOOM
Indeed. This�
(Doom nudges the Waiter with his foot, eliciting a
groan)
--has displeased Doom.
MANAGER
Oh, I am sorry, sir. I did direct each of the
waitstaff to make sure not to displease you. Shall I
take my own life as penance?
DOOM
That will not be necessary. Bring us the rack of lamb,
and...I believe you wanted the chicken, my dear?
ANGELA
Well, yeah, but�
DOOM
Fetch it forthwith! And if it is not free-range, woe
to you and your dining establishment!
MANAGER
Very good, sir.
The Manager takes off; as Doom and Angela continue to talk, two busboys drag away the quivering remains of the Waiter.
DOOM
Now, my dear, what were we talking about?
ANGELA
Look...I don�t think this is going to work out.
DOOM
What? Why not?
ANGELA
You�re a psycho! You nearly incinerated that poor
bastard!
WAITER
(from the floor)
It burns!
DOOM
Silence, lackey!
ANGELA
Look, I just got out of a relationship with an
unstable man, and I really don�t need a repeat of
that. The last thing I want is another musclehead with
a hair-trigger temper.
DOOM
No one has ever dared speak this way to Doom and
lived!
(pause)
I admire that. Please, I believe we got off on the
wrong foot. Allow me to make it up to you.
ANGELA
Well...you won�t fry anyone else with that...
DOOM
Conflagration ray.
ANGELA
You won�t fry anyone else with that conflagration ray?
DOOM
Doom swears it!
ANGELA
Or repulsor rays. Or death rays of any kind.
DOOM
Upon my mother�s soul!
ANGELA
No killing, then.
DOOM
Wait, I thought we were just talking about
rays;. I don�t see how I can promise�
(off her look)
Very well. No killing.
A Second Waiter approaches.
SECOND WAITER
Uh...excuse me, Mr. Doom, sir, has anyone taken your
drink orders?
DOOM
Miserable halfwit! Dare you test the patience of
Doom?! Your�
(deep breath)
What do you have on tap?
Angela smiles.
A half-hour later. The first waiter, now heavily bandaged, clears the table and has the Lemon and Kiwi Ices brought out to ANGELA and DOOM. Angela samples hers, smiles, and Doom turns to the trembling waiter.
DOOM
She is pleased. Well done. Go, and know that you have
this day had a brush...with DOOM!
ANGELA
I can�t believe that poor guy is up and around...
DOOM
Rest assured, my dear, he is merely in terrible agony.
Now, you were telling me about your work as a
Corporate Attorney?
ANGELA proceeds to talk and talk about Corporate Law. Amazingly, DOOM seems to listen and nod attentively throughout the long and probably tedious explanation of Angela's position as a Mergers and Acquisitions Attorney.
ANGELA
...and so that's how a corporation enfolds another
company.
DOOM
Astounding. Truly, you have wit and charm to match
your peerless beauty, my dear.
ANGELA (blushes)
Thank you. So, you said something about the Kingdom of
Latveria? Is that in the Balkans?
DOOM
We are physically close to that lamentable strife, it
is true, but after I unleashed my Doombots and placed
a modified Mind Control disk I designed on Milosevich,
we have seen none of the carnage of that unfortunate
war. A NATO aircraft did violate Latverian Airspace,
but the Nth Ray transported the pilot to the
Prehistoric Past...the Jurassic Era, where he had many
adventures with a simian lad and his bright red
Tyrannosaur companion.
ANGELA
I thought that humans and dinosaurs didn't coexist.
DOOM
That's what many believe, thanks to the lies of my
enemies, like Richards! They conceal the truth of
science in order to keep the people of the world
ignorant of their true place in the New Order...an
order ruled and shaped by I, DOOM! Now, my dear, are
you enjoying your dessert?
ANGELA
Well...look, can I ask you a question?
DOOM
Please do.
ANGELA
Look, don't take this the wrong way (looks down at the
still-twitching waiter as two busboys struggle to pull
him away without attracting Doom's attention) but, I
mean, you seem awfully mad at this Richards'
fellow...I mean, sure, I get that you want to kill
your college roommate, because we've all been there, I
mean, mine was a tramp who kept bringing these scummy
guys home...but here you are, the King of a whole
Country and everything. It seems to me that you're a
bit obsessed with this guy, and I don't think it's
really neccessary. You've got a lot going yourself,
after all. I mean, that whole story about how you went
to Hell and tricked the devil into releasing your
mother's spirit, and that time when you took over the
whole world with that big diamond with some purple man
in it, I think you've got a great imagination. You
should just move on with your life and forget about
this whole Richards thing. (Sucks in breath, waits to
be disintegrated.)
DOOM (Thoughtfully)
Hmm. Perhaps. You have given me a great deal to think
about, my dear. While there is a certain satisfaction
to plotting the demise of your enemies, there has been
a great deal missing from my life the past few years.
Between usurping the throne of my native land,
defeating Mephisto, plotting to steal the power cosmic
from the Silver Surfer, buying controlling interest in
the Disney corporation and placing mind control disks
on the judges, prosecuting attorneys and others
involved in the recent Microsoft decision so that the
company will be easy prey for my latest plot to
enslave the world, it's been work, work, work. Why,
most other scientists would have received a Nobel
Prize for inventing a working time machine, but not I,
DOOM!
ANGELA
How do you get your voice to do that?
DOOM
Special wiring in my mask. Now, as it is late, may I
escort you home?
ANGELA
Okay. Yes, I think I'd like that.
As Angela takes Doom's armored arm in her own and they leave the restaurant, the large picture window explodes inward as a horde of Doombots swarms in, hands the Maitre' D a Latverian Express Card, and then heads back out.
Posted by Matt Rossi at October 2, 2004 5:36 AM