By Resident Scheme Outliner Expert Ernst Morpheus
The scenes outside The Happy Sailor, a moderately sized pub in Shaftesbury, Dorset, has gotten increasingly tense in the last couple of days. The reason for this unrest is because a large number of supervillains, including some not from our Earth, have been holed up inside debating whether or not monologuing is still the right way forward when facing the main protagonist. The landlord of the pub, Frankie Proclaimers, is outside looking in at the action, scared to go and tell them to round things up as a lot of them are extremely powerful with enhanced magical prowess. I began the interview with Mr Proclaimers as he finally calmed down some of the main local drinkers.
TDJJ: “So, Mr Proclaimers, how long was this meeting due to last?”
FP: “They paid me for five hours, which I agreed with Mr Doom in a few email exchanges. It was supposed to end on Tuesday night. I told the locals beforehand about the deal, just come about 8pm. I expected I’d just have to clear the mess up – they brought some snacks and pop themselves. I don’t usually allow external food and drink, but as I was told that some of them can bend time itself, I thought it best not to argue.”
TDJJ: “I believe some of the locals have taken to camping outside.”
FP: “Yeah, they’ve been great, showing solidarity. Some don’t have jobs or partners to go to, so it’s not been a big deal for them. There’s actually been less fighting until these last couple of days. Unfortunately I’ve not been able to sell them any alcohol as my licence is restricted to the pub itself.”
TDJJ: “Have you thought about calling the authorities at all?”
FP: “Again, I’ve been told of the powers that some of these villains possess. For example, Mr Pyrobastard, the bloke on fire currently waiting outside the toilets – you can see him through that window – would make short work of the cops or military personnel, what with his ability to shoot flames out of his eyes and knees at supersonic speed. Even if they had guns like in America. No, I don’t see any point in sending them to their graves. It wouldn’t sit right with me.”
TDJJ: “Have you heard anything from within the pub, any indication that the meeting is nearing a conclusion at all?”
FP: “There was a moment about three in the morning on Thursday. A winged alien looking bloke – big purple bugger he was, about eight foot – came out and said he wasn’t from around here, asked where the all night garage was as he needed to get more crisps and drinks for the group. He had no idea when they’d be finishing. As the door was open, though, I could hear one of them talking about times when his speechifying had been used effectively to show how clever he was to the captured main protagonist.”
TDJJ: “Do you have an opinion one way or the other about monologuing? If you had to confront someone being antisocial in your pub, would you over explain things to them or just get on with it and throw them out?”
FP: “I get a fair share of idiots coming in and messing about, and the weekend security don’t ask many questions, just kick them out. I actually prefer that way, I don’t really have the time to display any air of superiority while barring halfwits, we can get pretty busy in here, especially karaoke night. We do have the occasional bother during the week, and I don’t mind calling the cops on some drunken locals, they can handle them easy. But I’m just a simple 50-year old landlord. I don’t have the physique, intellect or powers of any of those evildoers in there. I don’t therefore feel qualified to proffer my two pence worth on their debate.”
I ended the interview there as Mr Proclaimers suddenly noticed smoke coming out of the disabled toilets as went to get a closer look. The locals joined him and peered through the window. I saw Mr Pyrobastard walk angrily towards the window at them. I didn’t want any part of what was surely about to happen, so fled the scene. The procrastination debate continues.