It was a dark and stormy night

It was a dark and stormy night

and that's the only thing I couldn't be blamed for. Everything else happening in the immediate vicinity was all my fault, from the massive fires to the raining bowling balls and

tornadoes full of harpoons, from the panzer sharks to the shuriken sandstorms, from the tabasco river to the outbreak of kung-fu dementia, it was all my doing and I'll be goddamned

to finish the entire blue print of my WDP (World Domination Plan.) I stapled the last piece of construction paper on the basement fiberboard wall. "There. Now for lunch."

But after a nice smoked Gouda avocado focaccia sandwich I returned to the basement & my world domination plan was missing! "Who has access to the basement den besides me?" I asked

Harold was my step-dad. I never called him dad. Even though he called me Pal and drove a Forrester. I used to dream of pluning a barbecue fork into that doughy white lump he

keeps telling me is a wart. Wart my ass. Warts aren't the size of goddamned golf balls; I know he's hiding something. Harold's never told me anything; he's so fake and plastic,

almost like a real-life Barbie doll. Come to think of it, he even acts like one. 'Oh, I can't go out tonight, Susie, I have to get a perm.' What kind of guy gets a perm? Seriously.

"All right. You do that," I awkwardly laughed, turning around to head for the door. I soon realized that he had become a true Barbie-Ken doll. It kinda reminded me of Mannequin...