Secrets of a D-List Supervillain Read Online Free PDF Page A

come off at some point I can deal with it, but then she frowns.
    “What?” I ask.
    “I think she needs a change.” She hands me my daughter and the smell follows. It reminds me of Swamp Lord. “Maybe she got the super flatulence you wrote about.”
    “Cute,” I say. “Why don’t you go in the other room and relax? There’s no need for both of us to suffer, and I might need you to send in a hazmat suit. Gabby usually goes down for her nap about now.”
    Stacy leaves, and I begin the time honored tradition of being amazed at the smell an offspring can produce. So far, the first full day of our reunion was going well. After Lazarus mindwiped her, I’d struggled to relate to her, and everything fell apart. I’m the same person and, quite frankly, it’s difficult picturing me ever changing. So the real question becomes whether her recovered memories are enough to keep her interested in me.
    “There are worse problems to have,” I inform Gabby. She smiles at me and then scrunches her face.
    “Again? Where do you put it all? Well, you are definitely my child. This is going to take longer than I thought.”

Chapter Three
Louisiana Stringel and the Temple of Humiliation
     
    “Sorry,” I say, entering Central Command and addressing my guest. “Gab-Gab took longer than usual to fall asleep.”
    “Probably me,” Stacy confesses. “My presence has been known to make children hyper. My sister hates it when I come around; her twins get so spun up. I always try to keep my visits short.”
    I notice she’s looking around at the rather drab décor in the base. I stress usefulness over attractiveness, but could see where things were lacking.
    Some plants would be nice and liven up the place, but I’d need grow lights and if I install grow lights, I have a good idea what type of vegetation Bobby would start farming. Better say something before it gets awkward!
    “So you’re better around kids than you are around their parents; good to know. Want to grab something to eat? We actually feature more things on the menu than frozen waffles. How about pancakes?”
    This piques Ms. Mitchell’s interest. “Made from scratch?”
    “Hardly,” I answer. “But if it will help the process, I’ll scratch something while opening the box. I’ve managed to learn how to read directions and I’m told that most of the things I make are edible. Anything beyond that is not going to happen.”
    “In that case, I’ll take the pancakes and you can skip the scratching part.”
    As I head for the kitchen and beckon her to follow, I say, “But I’m a guy. We’re trained from birth to be scratchers. Chocolate chips in your pancakes, or are you a heathen?”
    “Can a goddess even be a heathen? Normally, I’d go with the chocolate, but after last night, I will pass.”
    “Suit yourself. More for me.”
    “So, the other two are fishing and Wendy’s gone, where’s Andy?”
    “Downstairs running the suit and running in-place upgrades. Two of the shield generators are showing wear and they need to be replaced. It’s pretty simple when there’s no one inside. Why? Are you intending to seduce me in the kitchen?”
    The nice part about her baggy and ill-fitting coveralls is that they would come off really fast.
    “No. I think we’ve tried mixing food and sex enough for the time being. Let’s just stick to the bed, or I suppose I could be talked into the shower again. I was just surprised that you’re not down there supervising,” she comments, while I get a mixing bowl and a frying pan.
    Looking over my shoulder at her, I reply, “Something more important came along. Andy’s got this.”
    Her expression is worth the knowledge that I’m still going to double check those replacements at some point. Otherwise, I might have to turn in my Mega OCD membership card.
    “Do you still want me to go on, or is it as boring as it sounds? Honestly, I’d rather not talk about what comes next.”
    “It’s anything but boring, Cal,” she