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101 evil schemes for dnd from the dragon magazine annual from 2000

Bad Space Comics: The Suit

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In the morning he woke with a heart full of avarice and malevolence. He brushed his teeth with evil intent, settled down for a light but amoral breakfast, and did a few wicked stretches before dressing himself in deplorable clothing.

“What a beautiful day to be the antagonist,” he said with a low and sinister chuckle. Before he left the house he glanced into the little mirror he’d hung above the key box and arranged his eyebrows into a V-shape. It took remarkable effort and precise muscular control to hold them like that throughout the entire day, but long years of practice had built his stamina so that now, in the prime of his career, maintaining a villainous smirk came to him as easily as breathing. It was a point of quiet pride that no longer had to enhance the effect with makeup.

With a dastardly flourish of his tailcoat and a twirl of his goatee, Count Malice von BadMann was once again off to his reprehensible work of worsening the world and undertaking endeavors that are not condoned by the author.

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What to say about Count Malice von BadMann…? Why, dear reader, the less said the better! The details of his vile and inimical ways would only frighten and disturb those of you who are hale and hearty of spirit; the rest of you might be lured astray, down that dark and hateful path of sin and devilry that leads nowhere good.

Know, then, only that this ghastly creature bore lies the way a crabtree bears fruit in a mast year. Know that his vices were unspeakable, his crimes unpardonable, that the black stain upon his soul could never be washed out. Know that as other men make love, he made hate; and that misery and sorrow were to him as mother’s milk.

Dear reader, I beg you: do not admire this man! Should my pen beguile you into affection for the scoundrel it describes, cast this book aside and read no more. Let there be no doubt of his wickedness and the surety of his damnation when all is said and done. I implore all women and men of frail moral constitution to pass over these passages with haste lest temptation seize you; I want no hand in the erosion of your virtue.

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He sounds hot, tell me more.

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Why, dear reader, I dare not! Already I fear I have said too much. Let me attempt to set things right and douse the embers of your imprudent lust.

To look upon Count von BadMann would be to look upon the very face of evil. Every objectionable quality a man might possess was duly represented in his countenance and figure. He was ugly, as hatred is ugly—or perhaps he was attractive, as sin is attractive. He was disfigured, when disfigurement suggests moral depravity, and unblemished when it suggests virtue. He was thin, or fat, when one represents greed and the other gaiety; he was feeble, or he was sturdy, as a parasite or as a tyrant. He was well-groomed. He was slovenly. He was young and ambitious, and old and miserly; he was marginalized, he was hegemonic; he was lustful-puritanical, driven-slothful, macho-sissy, subtle-overbearing. When he spoke, he purred, or bellowed—and when he walked, he minced, or strode.

Count von BadMann possessed every reprehensible trait known to mankind and then some. To cross paths with him would be to reaffirm every moral conviction you possess, whatever it might be.

He was bad. He was nasty. He was, dear reader, abhorrent in every aspect.