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Sunday, June 01, 2008

Minions #113 - Overtime to Kill


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(Oh, come on. You know you want to be naughty!)

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*Actually, we're just going to send Minion Number Two and he's just going to bruise the little tyke's face with his gas-mask. This, however, is still better than being kissed by the candidate.)

Greetings, Long Timers No Seers!

I guess you noticed (well, I sure hope you noticed) that there was no new Minions at Work last week. I can only plead that the Lair has been struck by biological warfare, and we've all been sick here. We're doing better, but I confess that when the creative part of my brain started to function again, I prioritized working on this that had a better chance of actually making me money. You guys want to stay further up the priority heap, you need to start shopping in our Cafe Press stores, visiting our advertisers, or at least working a little harder to inflict -- uh, I mean share -- Minions at Work with others.

Ha, ha, ha! Guilt trip! Are we evil, or what? (Actually I'm the one feeling guilty. I'll try to throw in an extra cartoon in the next couple weeks to make it up to you.)

Okay, now that we're through that, let's get back to the story as-yet unnamed new Minion that I mentioned a couple weeks back. Most of our main Minions at Work characters use a specific action figure body (A Power Team G3 body with gloved hands, if you want the boring specifics). I've got a big stock of them, most of which I've bought new over the last few years, but occasionally a find one at a thrift store (where a lot of our props and set-pieces also come from).

This was one of those finds, and as sometimes happens in thrift-stores, the figure had obviously seen some kid adventures before it got to me. Something had been driven into the middle of the forehead and broken off flush with the skin. Since I often cover the faces on Minions figures, this was no dead-breaker, but I was curious, so when I got it home I got a pair of needle-nose pliers, got a grip in the intrusion, and pulled.

Now, I don't know what I expected. Maybe a small piece of metal, but what came out was a loooong, gleaming, needle-tipped metal spike. Somebody had driven a full-sized regulation dart into his head and broken it off. Not the little scale version he has now, but I full-sized pub dart!

So now I had a figure with a hole in the forehead. My first impulse was to put him in a face mask or something, but I kept putting it off. And then came the day that I found my miniature darts. It just seemed natural to jam one in there and see what it looked like.

The rest is history.

(Still trying to find a number for the new-guy. Send us your suggested number, along with your reason for picking it. You could name a Minion!)

See you next week (presuming no more Martian-death-germs).

- Steve

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

LOL! I think I worked for him in one of his other incarnations!