Back to business! Although I have suffered a slight defeat at the hands of Captain Douglass L Oakwood, the result of which being that he blew up one of my nukes headed for China (finally), we shall now move on and come up with a new plan to take over the world, destroy it, eradicate the Captain, consume some pancakes and hop in bed for a little nap. Not necessarily in that order. For example, we could go to bed, destroy some pancakes, eradicate the world and consume the Captain. Or even eradicate some pancakes, destroy the bed and be in the Captain. Not too fussed really, but what I am fussed about is the plan.

(Insert Amelia Luther coming over to the Chipmunk Dictation microphone and standing next to the Baron)

Amelia? Can I help you?

(Insert Amelia Luther shaking her head)

Oh, by the way Chipmunks, this is Amelia. She is my second-in-command, if you didn’t already know. Don't worry, I have ... investigated her thoroughly and have concluded that her ... ‘Chipmunk’ ... er ... is without doubt ... um ... hairless.

(Insert Amelia Luther nodding)

And now, to the PLAN.

(Insert Amelia Luther removing a notebook and pen)

Ah, you see Chipmunks? This is a great way to get ahead in my organisation. Look how dedicated she is, my Amelia. Writing down every word I say so that she can follow all of my orders to the last letter. Well done Amelia, let me award you with a medal ...

(Insert the Baron removing a medal from his medal box and pinning it on Amelia's Chipmunk jacket)

Wow ... right there on ... your breast ...

(Insert inappropriate groping)

(Insert Amelia Luther staring at the Baron)

Soft ... almost cushiony really, isn't it? You know, sometimes I wish breasts were moldable. When I was a kid I wished my mother's dirty pillows were. Would've saved money on Play-Doh and there would have been a certain satisfaction in shaping Mum's tits into Dinosaurs ...

(Insert awkward ... everything)

Well ... enough of that. 

(Insert the Baron dusting Amelia's breasts)


(Insert Amelia Luther staring at the Baron)

Aren't you going to write this down?

(Insert Amelia Luther removing a notebook and pen)

Stage One: to begin, I must first assassinate Captain Douglas L Oakwood. He has too long been a thorn in my cute little bottom. To achieve this I have hired a top-notch, high-class, five-star, tip-top assassin named Alfie-Jay. He calls himself THE HYPHENATOR, which is the stupidest name I have ever heard but the results speak for themselves. In the one week that I’ve known him he has killed two cats, slaughtered a Portuguese alpaca, destroyed 12 pancakes and maimed a landscaping job with uncanny skill. The man is a killer; no-doubt, fo-sho, cold-as-ice. And  as I think back on  my word choice  I realiseTHE HYPHENATOR has  butchered my grammar in the short time he was here. No matter. He is now out in the field, hunting down his prey, and I foresee it won’t be long before the Captain is another victim of THE HYPHENATOR. 

(Insert Amelia scribbling furiously in her notebook)

Stage Two: next, I will destroy the Moon with our last nuclear missile. I will do this for three reasons:

a) It will cause massive tidal waves. Landmass after landmass will be swallowed by the ocean, destroying cites and armies that may stand in my way. 

b) It will disrupt women’s menstrual cycles. Currently, women ovulate when the moon is full. With the Moon destroyed, women will be incapacitated and the men will be too busy to stand up and fight against me as they will be tasked with obtaining Nurofen from the local chemist. Whilst they are otherwise occupied, red victory will gush from thighs around the world, drowning me in salty success. 

c) Ok, I admit it … there is no third reason. I don’t know why I said there was. Evil plans always seem to work better in threes. FOR EXAMPLE …

Stage Three: once the moon has been destroyed, I will unleash upon the world my greatest invention yet. This machine controls the weather, destroys cites with a single thunderstorm and zaps armies with a multitude of thunderbolts. And the most ingenious aspect of this invention is that it is a size of a thimble. 

(Insert the Baron pulling out a slim, small metal device from his pocket)

I call it my Climate Overdrive Controlled Kamikaze machine, or  COCK. 

(Insert Amelia scribbling furiously in her notebook)

As you can see, what I said about my COCK being quite small is true. I can slip my COCK in my pocket and no one will ever notice. There … you see? You don’t even know I have my COCK in my pocket, do you? Chipmunk #664, come over here. Speak honestly. Is there anyway you can tell I have my COCK in my pocket? 

(Insert Chipmunk #664 shaking his head)

I take my hand out of my pocket, and can you see what’s in it? Looks like nothing, right? Wrong! My COCK is in my hand and you didn’t even know! Amelia, come here for a sec. The beauty about my COCK is that you can slip it anywhere without drawing too much attention to yourself. For example, observe as I slip my COCK in Amelia’s cleavage without anyone being any the wiser. And there it sits. My COCK is sitting quite comfortably between your breasts and no one can see it! However, there are future applications that we haven’t even considered. If we were to, let’s say, make Amelia’s breast moldable, turn my COCK on and switch it to the setting SNOW BLOW, the breast could wrap completely around my COCK, hold that position, be invisible to enemy strip searches and await the right time to pull out and shoot an early white Christmas all over the enemy’s face. 

By the way Amelia, report to the medical lab to have moldable breast surgery performed tomorrow at 0600 hrs …

(Insert Amelia Luther staring at the Baron)

So that is my plan. 

(Insert Amelia saying she needs to make a phone call)

Hmmm? Yes, yes. Fine. Now where was I? Oh yes! My plan! Rather devious, isn’t it? However, as smart as it is, only one thing will ensure its success. The latest intelligence. The lay of the land, as they say. 

(Insert Chipmunk #093428 handing the Baron the latest intelligence report)

Ah! You see? Without even asking for it! I have trained these Chipmunks well. Their foresight and my leadership have turned us into a well-oiled …

(Insert the Baron scanning the report)

The HYPHENATOR has been killed in action? The nuke has been destroyed? My COCK has been stolen?

(Insert the Baron slapping his pockets)

My COCK! It’s gone!


COCK-less and Hyphenated