Dylan continued to think up plans as the Zlomobile raced along, barely keeping ahead of his competitors. He didn't have a lot of options available to him with how wary Valiant was acting. Perhaps Dr. Zlo could use his nanobots and somehow lose control of them? Or maybe he could slip on a patch of his frictionless liquid. That might work, but Dylan had no clue how he would slip on his own attack. Once again, his competitors weren't ahead of him.
Maybe he should slow down? But if he did that, people would notice, and they'd all wonder why Dr. Zlo lost speed on a straightaway with nothing in his way. No, slowing down wasn't an option. It would give off all the wrong signs.
But what else could Dr. Zlo do at this point? Dylan couldn't think of anything on him that would work, other than making a bomb misfire. But that had the chance of annihilating the Zlomobile, and Dylan couldn't have that. He spent a lot of time making his new getaway car; losing it wasn't an option at this point.
Did Dr. Zlo actually have to win this time? Dylan had hoped to make the race look close, Dr. Zlo barely losing despite all his cheating. He wanted to curse out the winner, declaring vengeance against all who came before him. And it could have led to a couple of fun, dastardly crimes. Dylan could see it, Dr. Zlo assaulting a hero's base with some wacky device and monologuing a grand speech about how great he was.
Dylan sighed. He could only blame himself. Any plan with such a fine line between success and failure was bound to have issues. There was never any guarantee that Dylan's plans for Dr. Zlo would succeed. Realistically, if Dylan wanted to do that, he would need to rope in a lot more conspirators besides his minions. A few heroes, the race coordinators, a few spectators here and there, all of them were needed if Dylan wanted to complete his true plans.
Gripping the steering wheel, Dylan readied himself to cross the finish line. He started rehearsing a speech in his head, preparations for when he won. Valiant and Riptide were still chasing him, and gaining, but Dylan's shield would hold for the distance. His two competitors would come in right behind Dr. Zlo, fighting for second and third as the villain gloated.
Suddenly, Dr. Zlo felt something smash into his right-front wheel, careening him to the side. The villain skidded across the road, his vehicle slamming right into Riptide's boatmobile and sending the two swerving into the barrier nearby. The spectators yelped in surprise and terror as the two cars rushed toward them.
"Dude!" Riptide shouted in surprise. The surfer attempted to break free, he and G.W. using their respective powers.
"Who dares trap the road in front of me!" Dr. Zlo shouted at the same time.
Inwardly, Dylan was ecstatic. Someone hadn't wanted him to win and trapped the road to stop him! It was everything the man wanted. Now he was behind the leader and could curse whoever dared steal Dr. Zlo's victory! But first, the villain needed to get his car back on the right track.
Dylan applied the brakes, turning the steering wheel enough to correct his course without oversteering. The Zlomobile straightened out, Dr. Zlo slamming on the gas to chase after Valiant. Everything was in the home stretch now, and Dr. Zlo had to try his hardest to keep up the act.
Riptide and G.W. tried to straighten their car as well but overcorrected. Riptide tried using his powers to surf the boatmobile back on track, while G.W. used his whirlwinds to do the same. With both powers combined, Riptide's vehicle spun a touch too far, landing sideways and putting him behind Dr. Zlo.
"Oh man!" Riptide lamented. "I was this close, dude!"
"If you let me handle it, we would've been fine," G.W. sniffed.
"My bad, dude," Riptide answered with a laugh. "Got caught up in the moment."
"Well, there goes all that Phlebotinium," G.W. grumbled.
Riptide clapped his minion on the back, making G.W. huff in detest, "No worries, my man. I'm sure we can find more of the stuff elsewhere. Besides, this race was fun!"
Cass looked haltingly at Dr. Zlo, an equal amount of surprise on his face, "I think they did, boss."
Dylan blinked again, his face still in blank surprise, "That means I just won. Right?"
Cass nodded slowly, "I think so, boss."
Dylan looked over to Cass, who was looking at him in turn. Suddenly, the butler burst into a smile, his arms wide in exultation.
"Boss, we won! We won!"
Dylan's face stayed blank for another second, then contorted as Dr. Zlo snorted a laugh. The villain doubled over, the ridiculous nature of it all hitting him like a truck. Of all the things to ruin his plans!
Dylan couldn't help but laugh; at no point had he expected the Jacques to ruin his actual plans! The entire point of the minions was to bumble things! They were simple designs meant to cause hiccups. Then, Dr. Zlo would have to deal with the new hiccups, most likely losing something in the process.
"Can you believe it, boss!" Cass cheered. "Look at everyone coming to congratulate us!"
Dylan couldn't look up. He was still laughing too hard. The absurdity of his minions was hitting him alongside the fact that Dr. Zlo just won, and it was keeping the man doubled over in laughter. He recovered seconds later, after groups of players had gathered around to congratulate him.
Dylan took a deep breath before walking out. He'd won the race, against all odds. It was time to roll with the punches. Cheers erupted as the door opened, the players around clapping and whooping as Dr. Zlo stepped out of his car.
"Yes, yes," Dr. Zlo waved.
The villain put his hands up to calm the crowd. The cheers died down as the players focused on him.
"I know you're all happy that I won," Dr. Zlo started. "But was there ever any doubt!"
The villain threw his hands up, signaling the crowd to cheer once more, "That's right! I've built the greatest getaway car the world has ever seen and proven to all of you that it is the best!"
Cheers erupted from the crowd, whoops and hollers drowning each other out. Dr. Zlo kept his hands in the air, basking in the glow of victory.
"You know, Cass," the villain said. "I could get used to this."