With Apologies…To Sharing a Lair

The big mistake was going through InterVillain to find a lairmate. The handbooks on freelance evil said that now was the golden age of villain team-ups. The Internet has allowed those with an interest in causing fear to find each other. Apparently, back in the day, the only time you would really meet up with a fellow villain was at your explosives distributor or the clink. Neither of those locations are the best environment to get to know somebody.

I needed to find a decent lairmate…soon. I signed a rental agreement on an abandoned soda bottling plant about a month ago. I assumed that within a couple weeks I would be rolling in the dough. I am located in a decent sized town, Worcester, with little or no high level villains working the area. Lots of hospital payrolls to rob. Sounds like a license to print money. The problem is that I grossly underestimated my overhead on this venture.

In my previous update I had made some rather bold statements. I was aiming to bend all liquids to my will, either through technology or magic. Guess what?: Magic doesn’t exist. I really thought that it did. I also assumed that some scientist, somewhere, had developed the technology to control liquids. Turns out no one has gotten around to that yet. I have had to revise my mission statement. I will bend affordable liquids to my will, and my will is to fire them from a pressure washer.

I dropped the $900 on the Pressure Pro Professional 1500 PSI Pressure Washer. Not a huge investment, but there were a couple setbacks. I wanted to go electrical, because of the oil spill and all that…so I need to be near an outlet when I use it. It also doesn’t really have a tank…so I need to have a running water hose nearby. I didn’t let that get me down; it would just take a little more time to rob the hospital payroll.

I applied for a job at the payroll company, had a great interview, and got hired immediately. The pay was really good, and I liked my co-workers. I was making enough money to afford the rent on the bottling facility, but I had to rob the payroll. Destiny needs to be slapped occasionally, and I was ready to make my move. Day by day passed, and I eagerly awaited the end of the month. Finally the day arrived, and I had faith that a truckload of cash would be mine shortly.

Guess what? Doctors don’t get paid in cash. They don’t even really get paychecks anymore. They are paid through direct deposit, which is coordinated by a centralized computer system.

Shaking off my initial disappointment, I snuck back into work late that night. I went to the central computer room, plugged in the power washer, hooked my hose into the sprinkler system outside, ran the hose through the window, let the pressure washer warm up, test blasted a chair, and then demanded that the computer system immediately hand over the money to me.

Surprise! Windows XP is not sentient. I blasted the computer with the pressure washer and made a break for it. No cash. No rent money. On the brink of losing my lair. I needed to splint rent and utilities.

I went to InterVillain and posted an ad in the Lairmates Needed section:

New but motivated villain seeks lairmate to split rent on abandoned industrial site. Married, Male, 31 yo. Nothing sexual. No swinging. Only serious villains, please.

I got a fair number of responses. I threw out the ones that immediately mentioned swinging. There were a couple of villains who didn’t even have criminal identities yet. How serious can you be if you haven’t picked your theme? Obviously no villainesses, my wife has been understanding of my dream, but not THAT understanding. After sifting through the responses, one finally caught my eye. It was from a guy who just moved to the area, and was going under the name of The Usher. He was a former movie theatre employee who gained incredible strength after he was involved in a popcorn butter accident. Solid backstory, good theme, seemed serious.

I suggested that we meet up at a neutral location in order to get a feel for each other. We snuck into a Worcester Tornadoes baseball game. We had a great time. We scammed a hotdog vendor and stole a couple of foam fingers. He seemed like a solid guy. He said “bro” a lot, but he had a real heart of pitch black tar. I offered him a spot in the bottling plant, and he accepted. He was moved in by the end of the week.

Right off the bat there were major problems. Hair…everywhere. Not that he was a hairy guy, but that his costume had a lot of hair. He was wearing a second hand minor league baseball mascot costume. Specifically, it was a polecat costume. He had stolen a Homer The Polecat costume while he lived in Nashville. The Usher didn’t believe that ushers had a natural villain costume. I asked him why his costume was a smiling polecat. He said the smile was creepy. Either way, that costume had seen better days. It was shedding everywhere. The shower, the monitor room, the hose room, just about every inch of the place was covered in mascot hair.

He may have had butter strength, but I never saw him use it. In fact, the farthest I have seen him from the lair is the parking lot. His only attempt at any sort of public showing was a complete disaster. The Usher wanted to make a big splash in town. Put himself on the map right away. He didn’t actually want to go anywhere to do it, though. The Usher wanted people to come to the bottling plant to see him use his strength. Crush a couple cars, lift a bus, demand everyone give him their wallets. A lazy shakedown. He used my computer to print up a sign to plaster around town:

Tonight THE Usher makes a surprise first appearance in Worcester. Bottling Plant. 8 PM

He put those signs everywhere. He called radio stations. He called the newspapers. The town was buzzing about THE Usher making an appearance in town. The clock strikes eight o’clock and the parking lot is full of screaming women. I thought that was slightly odd, but purse robberies can be lucrative. The Usher rolls out of the door onto the hastily made stage. The crowd goes silent. He bends a girder. The crowd starts booing. Apparently they believed this was going to be a secret show by the R&B artist Usher. Turns out that when you tell someone that THE Usher is going to be in town, that is the one that they think of. My Usher got pelted with high heels and retreated indoors. I fended off a couple irate ladies with the pressure washer and we had to spend the night in the panic room.

Since then? The Usher hasn’t mentioned committing any crimes or planning to commit any crimes. I think he is sleeping at the lair. The place is set up for naps, not for someone living there. I haven’t seen him take the costume off in weeks. A villain’s lair should be a place for relaxation and thoughtful moments. It should be refuge. My refuge has some dude in a mascot costume stinking and hairing up the place. Something needed to be done.  I suck at confrontation so I have poisoned his popcorn.  

Updates will be forthcoming.


Tom Katers has actually used pressure washer before. They smart.


  1. Awesome stuff! Keep at it. You are inches away from taking over the world!

  2. If you can’t make rent on the bottling plant I know of a couple of great caves on the outskirts of town.  I think there might even be an abandoned cabin!

  3. Haha one of my friends is a broadcaster for the Worcester Tornadoes

  4. One of my co-workers nearly took a finger off with a pressure washer, so be careful with that thing.


  5. Great journal!  

  6. excellent, excellent stuff!