6

Silver Sable International has built an arena. In it, Silvija Sablinova plans to test what she hopes will become the summit of her success.

With the vomitoriums, the portcullises rise. From the shadows within, some macabre sights venture into the arena.

They're Turkish women. They're naked. They're exposed to an infidel world. And they're surrounded by corporate greed; Ms. Sablinova's greed.

From up high, Victor von Doom watches. An android, his facial expression is always impossible to decipher.

"This seems extreme," he admits. "Perhaps we should use sable antelopes as test subjects?"

Near him, Ms. Sablinova finishes plugging in everything. She gives Victor a stony look.

"Do not disrespect me, Victor. Sables are not test subjects; they are fragile...like me."

"Fragile?! So says the pot who's about to test the kettle!"

Boldly, Ms. Sablinova stands. She marches over to Victor, and looks him in the...high-tech video sensors.

"These women," she sneers, "were married to Ottoman lords! They've joined the enemy! They've sided with the devils who've slaughtered my fellow Aryans in droves like rats! Ergo, they are not kettles! They are not pots! They are porcelain toilets, and whether you'd accept it or not, Dr. Doom, they are as white as the snow in that scary forest into which one of your wicked consorts once banished Snow White!" She pauses. "Judge me if you will. But this WILL be their final judgment. And the Wild Pack won't test itself; they are fully robotic."

With that, she returns to her work. Victor just stands there, in a green robe, like the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz...which, sadly, won't get published for another three decades.

"I still think you should've turned a bunch of wolves into cyborgs. Cyborg wolves are VERY under-utilized in villainy."

"I am not a villainess," Ms. Sablinova insists. "I am a philanthropist with an unstable soul."

She pushes a lever. In the arena, the other portcullises open. The Turkish women and children dread what follows. They should.

Robotic wolves run out of the vomitoriums, and spring into action. The women scream and run. All around the arenas, the chases are on. These robotic wolves stand five times taller than their tallest do.

From a safe place, Ms. Sablinova crosses her arms, and smiles. It is, after all, what a Turkish lord would do to her and Victor.

In no time, the Wild Pack has reduced the Turkish swarm to blood and bones. Flies have already infested the arena. No problem; with the simple flip of a switch, Ms. Sablinova turns on a network of lasers, which precisely kill all the flies with VERY accurate aim. She then commands the Wild Pack to return to its Lair; which they do.

Ms. Sablinova seals the arena shut, and orders its cleaning. She and Victor watch, for a while, as it cleans itself.

Victor yawns. "How about some lunch?"

"No lunch will ever sate my hunger," Ms. Sablinova grumbles, "like Sultan Abdülaziz's head in a jar of vinegar will."