I am always on the lookout for individuals with certain…talents that might be useful in bringing out my new world order. I’m very picky. Most malefactors think that a minion is a minion is a minion, but all of the really clever arch-fiends and supervillains know that you can’t let just anybody into your organization.
No. I want someone with brains–but someone not as smart as me. Just smart enough to realize how much better things will be when I take over the running of this planet, and biddable enough to carry out my orders, no questions asked.
Therefore, every time I meet someone, my first thought is: Friend or foe? My second thought is always: How can I use this person to further my own ends?
It’s a twitchy sort of way to live, always on edge, ready to either gut someone on the spot or add them to the crew.
You! Stop right there! Who are you and what are you doing in my demesne?
Tiny creature! I should stomp you into a sticky blue paste just on principle!
This wretched, pipsqueakoid tinyman is wearing a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform! He must be here to spy on me!
Talk, you puntable little sneak! What do your be-suited, treacherous handlers want with me?
On the other hand…
Listen, Midget McBitty, you’re a handy size for…covert ops. How would you like to join a grassroots movement dedicated to improving the state of affairs on the planet.? Sounds great, right? I can see you’re a man of taste and perspicacity. You’ve already got the outfit–how do you feel about a little double-agent-type work?
I can’t afford to pay you much now, but I have the feeling that prospects are decidedly looking up… *
*Because, you know, everything is “up” to you…