Fictional Agent Friday~ DR. EVIL

Back by popular demand...

It's Fictional Agent Friday. I get to transform a popular character and say why I think he or she would be the PERFECT LITERARY AGENT.

DR. EVIL.

Why did I not think of him sooner. Erm, hullo? Laser beams? Sharks with frickin' laser beams on their heads. An army of minions, a psychotic clone, not CLOWN, clone. He has an arsenal of cool ridiculous toys, an under water labyrinth beneath a volcano, he has a submarine in the shape of his likeness where stuff floats out of his butt, he has EJECTOR chairs, and an assistant called NUMBER 2.

He needs to be my agent. I can see him now demanding ONE TRILLION DOLLARS for my MS. If not, he'll blow up the entire world! Everyone would be forced to read my work.

YES!

He could clone me so that Minnie Charli could do all the typing, blogging, yada. I could sit back and live the high life of a glorified author, like in a Jackie Collins novel.

We'd torture other agents for fun! Yes, this is my best fictional agent FRIDAY yet!

I've had the chance to interview Dr. Evil in his lair. I was a little nervous but he really is a teddy bear once you get to know him. Enjoy.

Charli: Good afternoon Dr. Evil

Dr. Evil: I don't know what's so frickin' good about it. I haven't killed anyone all morning. *He raises his pinkie to his lip*

Charli: Tell us about yourself.

Dr. Evil: "The details of my life are quite inconsequential... very well, where do I begin? My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really." (as depicted in Austin Powers, International Man of Mystery)

Charli: Oh, that sounds lovely. How do you see your life experiences shaping you as a literary agent?

Dr Evil: I don't. But I'm tired of reading frickin' crap, you know. Ever since Meyer stopped writing about Glittery vamps and werewolves there's nothing out there really.

Charli: Team Edward or Team Jacob?

Dr. Evil: Team Jacob. *Dr Evil and Charli fist tap*

Charli: Well, I write about love along the Jersey Shore.

Dr. Evil: I must kill you now. Lower the seat. *He calls out to Number 2*

Charli: WAIT! What did I say? *Charli grasps the arms of her chair. A shark with a laser beam appears. JAWS YOU FRICKIN' TRAITOR!*

Dr. Evil: Jersey Shore, really. They're all frickin' idiots.

Charli: Oh, no. Not that Jersey Shore. No Situations or Snookies in my book. It's just a love story.

Dr. Evil: No, fist pumps or beats the beats?

Charli: NO!

Dr Evil: No shirt before the shirts?

Charli: No way.

Dr. Evil: You may live. Now, believe it or not I adore a good LOVE STORY. I cried watching The Notebook.

Charli: Well, imagine all the love of that story with a little bit of family dysfunction thrown in there.

Dr. Evil: Oh, you mean like the Palins?

Charli: Sort of.

Dr. Evil: Oh, goody! I will call all the publishers and hold them ransom until the entire world has read your book.

Charli: YES!

Dr. Evil: One condition, if you novel is made into a movie, I get to play the hero. I'd make a good love interest, no?

Charli: Well, I guess you could pass for a Cuban contractor.

Dr. Evil: Wonderful. We'll do lunch.

Charli: How can other authors query you?

Dr. Evil: They can send me this thing called an email. Weird really. If I like it I will send my submarine to fetch them, if not I will blow them up. *Dr. Evil laughs, waits for all too join in*

Charli: Thanks, Dr. Evil.

WELL that's it for FICTIONAL AGENT FRIDAY.

Tune in next week. Who would you like to see, MADEA or PUNKY BREWSTER?