Dr. Heinz Doofenshmirtz (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
doofenstrudel) wrote2011-08-24 03:31 pm
doofenstrudel) wrote2011-08-24 03:31 pm
Entry tags:
05 - Sharp-Dressed Villain
[Action A, 457 Stone Street, Morning]
[It's another marginally beautiful Mayfield morning, and Doofenshmirtz has volunteered to head out front and get the mail. Still half-asleep, he steps over the brown-papered package on the front step, staggers to the mailbox, extracts the bills, and steps back over the package without even noticing it. Click, and the door shuts behind him.
A few moments later he's back out on the step, staring down at the thing he had previously ignored.]
Ehn, what's this?
[Peering down at it, he's surprised to see that it's addressed to him. A suspicious look is cast left, then right, then upwards, then he quickly snatches up the package and retreats inside.]
I've heard about this! They've given me something back! I wonder what it is?
[He shakes the box this way and that, judging the weight of the contents. Still no idea. Ah well! He rips the paper off, lifts the lid off of the box inside, to find that he's been given back his labcoat.]
..it's a start. A pretty good start.
[Action B, Bakery]
[Another day, another dollar. Heinz is at work... well, he's at work. Physically present at work, behind the counter and minding the bakery. But he's not doing much. No baking, no frosting, no kneading. He has a notebook in hand, and he's scribbling in it madly, occasionally muttering to himself.]
I'll need three dozen of those... hm, I'm going to need multiple trips. Taking measurements into account, we'll need this much lumber just for the supports.... ooh, and tarps. Tarps are important. Many tarps.
[And he's got his apron tied over his labcoat. Having gotten it back? It's going to take effort to make him remove it.]
[Action C, Around Town]
[His shift at work is done, and Doof is now out and about shopping. Still wearing his labcoat, of course. And grinning from ear to ear, occasionally consulting his notebook before plucking an item from the shelves and tossing it in his shopping cart. Hardware store, general store, record store, he's stopping by it. His list of needs is long. You might catch him between stores, too, arms loaded with bags.]
[It's another marginally beautiful Mayfield morning, and Doofenshmirtz has volunteered to head out front and get the mail. Still half-asleep, he steps over the brown-papered package on the front step, staggers to the mailbox, extracts the bills, and steps back over the package without even noticing it. Click, and the door shuts behind him.
A few moments later he's back out on the step, staring down at the thing he had previously ignored.]
Ehn, what's this?
[Peering down at it, he's surprised to see that it's addressed to him. A suspicious look is cast left, then right, then upwards, then he quickly snatches up the package and retreats inside.]
I've heard about this! They've given me something back! I wonder what it is?
[He shakes the box this way and that, judging the weight of the contents. Still no idea. Ah well! He rips the paper off, lifts the lid off of the box inside, to find that he's been given back his labcoat.]
..it's a start. A pretty good start.
[Action B, Bakery]
[Another day, another dollar. Heinz is at work... well, he's at work. Physically present at work, behind the counter and minding the bakery. But he's not doing much. No baking, no frosting, no kneading. He has a notebook in hand, and he's scribbling in it madly, occasionally muttering to himself.]
I'll need three dozen of those... hm, I'm going to need multiple trips. Taking measurements into account, we'll need this much lumber just for the supports.... ooh, and tarps. Tarps are important. Many tarps.
[And he's got his apron tied over his labcoat. Having gotten it back? It's going to take effort to make him remove it.]
[Action C, Around Town]
[His shift at work is done, and Doof is now out and about shopping. Still wearing his labcoat, of course. And grinning from ear to ear, occasionally consulting his notebook before plucking an item from the shelves and tossing it in his shopping cart. Hardware store, general store, record store, he's stopping by it. His list of needs is long. You might catch him between stores, too, arms loaded with bags.]
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...okay, okay, I need to stop that. [He pinches the bridge of his nose, focusing rather hard.] Mad scientist always goes over better around here. But yes. I build inators, I point them at people I dislike, I am foiled by a nemesis on a regular basis... "Mad" scientist.
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[He's smiling. He's keeping a straight face. He's serious.]
At least I'm not one of those strange country-people.
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Are you a legal mad scientist?
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But he doesn't have to mention any of that!]
A key component of the job is, I believe, to do things that are illegal. But the degree, it is perfectly fine!
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[Doof still feels pretty clever. Even if this guy is... fairly tall, and somewhat intimidating?]
Technically, right now? I'm not a mad scientist, either... just as you're not technically a cop!
This place is confusing.
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[Earnestly, oh so earnestly, Doof misses the point entirely and leans in closer, planting both palms on the counter. He lowers his voice to a conspiratorial hiss.]
There are things in this place. Monsters! Crazy ladies with claws! Cops and mad scientists should both be careful!
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Unlike you.
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[The passionate fist-shaking stops. His arms drop to his sides.]
...so wait, does this mean to oppose this place, I'm going to have to turn... good?
[The cop in front of the counter isn't really needed for this conversation, as far as Doof's rambling brain seems to be concerned. He's scaring himself enough, thanks. There's this appalled, scrunchy look on his face.]
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Or maybe just a different sort of evil? One that works with the good people that aren't from Mayfield.
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[He gets himself two-handed pointy-gun-fingers for that. And a big, triumphant grin.]
That is exactly it! Exactly!
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[He holds his hands out, spaced at his shoulders.]
It would also be nice if lasers were involved.
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