Balsamine Chen, Period 8, 12/6/21

Balsamine Chen

12/6/21

Creativity & Fiction

“-and he had the gall, THE ABSOLUTE GALL, to interrupt me! ME, the great, the grand, the glorious Miserable Mercury! Oh, if only I had my trusty thermometer. I would have boiled his blood on the spot!” With a slam of his fist, my newest patient finally stopped ranting. 

“Mhm, mhm. And where were your henchmen during this incident?” I asked. In my notebook, I wrote, “Excessive monologues: little progress.” My office’s light blue walls, white curtains, and carpeted floor were great at comforting and opening up my patients, but sometimes they opened them up a little too much. I could feel a headache forming and reached for my glass of water. 

Mercury fidgeted in his seat and looked away. “Oh, old Tommy and Henry? They might have resigned last week…”

I sighed. “Mercury, we’ve talked about this before. Before Star Supervillains announces your debut, you must establish a strong relationship with your henchmen! I know you feel like you have to do everything yourself, but your henchmen are there to support you. Loyal companions are invaluable in such a hectic industry.” 

 

Mercury crossed his arms. “Well, this time I did trust them to follow my orders, and they didn’t. I said ‘hot coffee.’ All I wanted was a simple hot nonfat caramel latte with soy milk and sugar-free syrup from the coffee shop across town! And what did they return with? Iced coffee. I can’t stand the cold!”

I sat back in my armchair. “Mercury…”

“Oh, all right,” he grumbled. “I promise I’ll be nicer next time.”

“And when in doubt…” I said.

“Cool my temper and let the steam out, I know, I know.” Mercury uncrossed his arms and frowned. “But Dr. Elsher, aren’t you on my side? The trainer interrupted my monologue! I was just getting to the good stuff!”

Poor kid. I understood why my rookie patients gravitated towards monologues, but they restricted their potential. I had seen too many supervillains crash and burn from a little mistake while reciting them. “Well, you do have a habit of being redundant, Mercury. Even in a practice confrontation with a hero, every second spent speaking is a second that they will have to escape your trap. I understand you like a good monologue, but your trainer only wants to help you become a more effective supervillain, and that includes cutting down your speech and increasing your actions.” 

Mercury jumped up. “I know! If I want to be an awesome supervillain, how about I whip up a secret concoction that’ll be super poisonous to my enemies? Then they’ll have to listen to my monologues or risk being burned!”

I looked at his file and shook my head. “You failed chemistry in high school. I’m sorry, but you can’t become a world-class chemist in the nine weeks before your debut.” 

He paced around the floor and grumbled. “Well, what am I supposed to do, then? You’re no use—I’m going to the bathroom.”

“Wait-”

And he shut the door. I sighed and reviewed his file again. At least he was true to his name: the mercurial Miserable Mercury.