"Riptide! How dare you reveal the location of my great device just so you can surf!!" Dr. Zlo roared.
"The man has no sense of propriety," Mabel said. She sipped on her tea as Dr. Zlo stood from his chair.
"Cass! Get me something to throw!"
The butler appeared with a martini glass, which Dr. Zlo promptly took and dashed across the wall.
"Doesn't that man understand? Villains need standards! We can't divulge our plans because we get captured. It's the other way around!" Dr. Zlo stretched out his hand, "Cass! Another glass!"
Cass dutifully handed another glass to Dr. Zlo, who again threw the contents against the wall.
"Calm down, hon," Mabel said. "It won't do you a lick of good to get worked up. Why don't we look at one of the other's operations instead? Or work on the theme music you so desperately want."
"Mabel, I told you. Theme music is essential. I'm leaning towards organ music, but I can't find anything that would fit my image. And we're not doing Toccata and Fugue in D Minor. Every villain tries to use that song; we're above that."
"Whatever you say, hon. I'm not about to argue with my employer."
Dr. Zlo, now sufficiently calmed but still seething from Riptide's ineptitude, sat back down in his chair and spun to his control panel. The Zloppelin was mostly autonomous. Dr. Zlo's Jacques were intelligent enough to work around the ship, but the major pieces were all linked to a control panel in the observatory room. The left side of the panel focused on weapons, while the right monitored the hull's status. Right in the center sat communications and the drive controls, something that Dr. Zlo idly looked at as he thought.
Riptide's blunder meant the heroes knew exactly what to look for, not that Dylan didn't make it easy. But a big, blinking bomb was exactly the type of thing a villain like Dr. Zlo did. It wouldn't be sporting to hide the bomb where no one could see it. Dr. Zlo couldn't gloat his superior intellect if the heroes never had a chance in the first place. The issue was Riptide blabbing the answer instead of giving hints.
"We have to find a way to hold the heroes at bay until the bomb goes off," Dr. Zlo muttered.
"Boss, why not use the intercom thing from before?" Cass asked.
"That's right! I can use the intercom! What a brilliant idea!"
"Thanks, boss."
"Quiet Cass, I just thought of a grand idea!"
Dr. Zlo strode over to the intercom, ignoring Cass's despondent face. Dylan felt a little bad about ignoring his loyal butler, but Dr. Zlo thought of his creations as his property. Any idea they had he treated as his own.
The villain stopped in front of a rotary telephone, Einstein sitting nearby. Dylan wasn't sure why Jack decided on using the antique as the base for their intercom system, but it did lend a certain air to the calls. It didn't feel like a villainous air, though. Maybe something closer to an old telephone hotline.
Dr. Zlo picked up the receiver and commanded Einstein, "We're dialing into the Cartis systems again."
Einstein squeaked an affirmative and dashed over to the phone. Dylan watched with amazement as the mouse pulled the dial around like a fisherman reeling in a catch. He didn't know the first thing about phones like these, only that he saw them in old movies and comics. He was glad someone knew how to work the dial.
Sweet Dream likened herself to a tank-slash-debuffer. Her chocolate disoriented characters and her goopy mass made it hard to strike her inner body to do damage. In a one on one fight, she could take Titan almost every time.
Things got tricky when adding environmental factors and helpers. Titan's strength allowed the man to carry objects much larger than him, which he could use as thrown weapons. Tanking damage didn't work if her entire body was going to get hit. It was an advantage the hero had over Sweet Dream. She didn't exactly have the strength to return fire.
The villain shivered a bit as cool air wafted through the room. Cold damage was an issue as well. Her chocolate shell would freeze under low temperatures, forcing her to drop her protection or get trapped in a candy-coated shell. As much as she liked chocolate, Sweet Dream wasn't about to let that happen.
The woman brainstormed other powers that would affect her as she waited, trying to come up with solutions to each one. She did that, hand on her chin and legs kicking against her throne, until a call came through from Dr. Zlo.
"Go," the woman said.
"Sweet Dream! Why are you sitting around? We have a bomb to explode!" Dr. Zlo said.
"Hey, good plans, like cake, take time. I'm trying to recruit some villains right now. Then, I'll assault the factory."
"But the heroes won't have anything to fight until then!" Dr. Zlo complained. "How are we going to show off if you hide away!"
"Look, do you want to destroy this city or not?" Sweet Dream questioned.
"Of course I want to destroy the city! But people need to know how great we are when we do it!"
"And they will. But I'm not about to ruin my chances because you want me to show off."
"Bah! You aren't sweet at all."
"I already told you I wasn't," Sweet Dream bantered.
The candy villain heard a door click open and looked to see her Lickor-Icks returning with a masked villain in tow.
"Bye, Zlo," Sweet Dream said. "My new recruits are coming in, and I can't have you talking over me."
"Sweet Dream! Don't you ha"
Sweet Dream closed her communicator and turned to the new players. The first to arrive was a woman dressed in a large fur coat and smoking an old cigarette. A shock of white ran through the woman's otherwise pitch-black hair, and her angular features were turned up in a wide smile. She held a masquerade mask over her eyes, which gave her some anonymity.
"Darling!" the villain said, elongating the A to inconsiderate levels. "It's so good of you to invite me on your journey. I'm quite a fan, you know."
"And you are?" Sweet Dream asked.
"Duchess Krampelle," the woman answered. "Crime boss and fashionista. When I heard your group of malcontents was coming to my neck of the woods, well, I just had to come see you."