Magneto’s Morning

The sounds of Prince’s “Little Red Corvette” opened Magneto groggy eye-lids.  A bare hand swiped the ringing I-Phone off of the night stand and hit snooze.   The world’s most powerful supervillain rolled over in his bed and buried his face in the pillow.  He wasn’t ready to get up yet.  It was still dark on Asteroid M, the secret lair built on a large chunk of rock floating in space.  It was quiet too.  No alarms.  No lasers being fired.  No Blackbird Jet full of X-Men attacking.  Soon Magneto drifted back to sleep, clutching his Ohio State fleece blanket in the crook of his arm. 

Minutes later, the phone went off again.  “But it was Saturday night.  I guess that makes it alright.”  Magneto pushed himself upright and sat in bed staring at the wall of TV monitors.  He was tracking the movement of the winged mutant Archangel, who fit into some evil plan that he couldn’t remember the details of at the moment.  He rubbed his eyes and thought about hitting the snooze button again.  But he had things to do, people to see, humanity to enslave.

He made his way into the master bathroom, peeled off his tighty-whiteys and kicked them into a hamper in the corner.  Magneto looked at himself in the mirror for a moment.  He pinched the front of his tummy and jiggled it around.  “I should really start doing some push-ups in the morning or something,” he thought to himself.  “I’ll start tomorrow.”

Magneto stepped into the running shower and began the ritual.  Anti-dandruff shampoo first, then a loofah scrub with milk and honey-scented soap.  He reached out his hand and beckoned his razor to do his shaving.  The floating Gillette had done this many times before and skimmed the whiskery face of the asteroid’s dictator smooth.  Magneto turned his shower radio to 103.7 WBZZ, the local morning  show.  The show was hosted by Sabertooth, Mr. Sinister, and the Blob.  Occasionally members of the alien race of Shi’iar would call into the show, but they mainly talked about sports and it got boring quickly.

Magneto stepped out of the shower, dressed himself and made his way over to the breakfast nook.  He opened the pantry and found a box of Honey Nut Cheerios, a few packets of Carnation Instant Breakfast and a tub of almonds, which were inexplicably located in the same place as the cereal.  He opened the freezer and saw a stack of sausage patties.  They looked delicious, even in their frozen state.  However, Magneto decided that the clean up for such a meal would be a real headache, so he opted to put a few frozen blueberry waffles into his toaster oven.

He moved his way over to the coach and turned on the Today Show.  Matt Lauer was recapping some silly story about how Justing Bieber collapsed at a German nightclub and some people are speculating that he has an alcohol problem.  Lauer then threw it back over to Savannah Guthrie who attempted to explain a recent string of robberies where the thieves made off with large quantities of iridium, a para-magnetic element capable of withstanding high amounts of corrosive material.  Magneto forgot that he had sent the Hellfire Club off a few weeks ago to complete that task.  He was building a trans-dimensional matter folding device that would allow him to travel to alternate universes. 

His whole day was booked solid with phone calls.  He had to reach back out to Thanos, the Overmaster, who left him some message about the whereabouts of the Infinity Gauntlet.  He had been playing phone tag with Mystique the Shapeshifter for about two days now.  Juggernaut had called him last night too, but Magneto wasn’t ready for that conversation because it was going to be unpleasant.   

He rubbed his face and looked out the window of his asteroid abode.  The sun was shining brightly on this side of his evil complex now.  He thought how nice it would be to work outside more.  He could get some exercise, feel the sun on his skin and wouldn’t have to deal with all this pressure.  Magneto wished somebody else would defeat earth’s mightiest heroes and throw all humans into a state of subjugation.  But the grass is always greener.  He thought about how much a villain like Pyro or Toad would kill to be the leader of the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants and the feeling quickly subsided. 

It was getting close to 8 AM.  A few more minutes.  Magneto turned off the TV with a flick of his index finger.  He reached for his laptop and decided to check Facebook for a bit.  He scrolled through his list of “friends” and grew increasingly discouraged.  All the other villans he knew were annoying him.  Sauron complained about the weather in the Savage Land.  Dr. Doom posted something like, “Nobody understands…” which was obviously some lame attempt at harvesting sympathetic or encouraging comments.  Apocalypse, who Magneto wasn’t even really friends with, quoted scripture passage.  The annoying part was that they were passages from a scripture that Apocalypse wrote himself, so it just came of as pretentious.

Magneto closed his laptop and looked at the clock on the wall.  8:00 on the dot.  He magnetically levitated off the couch and moved towards the door.  He fastened his cape and picked up his telepathically impenetrable helmet.  He sighed and placed the armour over his head.  Off to work.