Mr. Dentist's Evil Plan: The HODOX Protocols

"And now, gentlemen, behold my latest--and most abominable--creation!" bellowed Mr. Dentist as he swept a white sheet back from the large platform that dominated the center of the auditorium. Assembled around the room were representatives from various rogue nations and terrorist organizations known and feared around the civilized world. They had come in anticipation of being the first to bid on Mr. Dentist's new superweapon, a project that he had spoken of cryptically for some time. As the sheet flew into the air, each of the men in the room craned his neck for a better view of the table.

The viewing platform in the center of the room rotated upright to display what, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a man dressed in cardboard boxes to give him the appearance of a robot. The boxes were spray-painted a cheap chrome, the head-unit had two eye-holes and a broad smile painted across the bottom and there were what looked like bleach caps glued to the chest portion, along with several coat buttons and a drawn-on control panel. Topping the machine (man? man-chine?) was a wire coat hanger that slowly rotated as the robot stared into the crowd.

Mr. Dentist strode confidently forward and exclaimed, "Behold, the Human Or Dog Operating X-Terminator...or, as I like to call it, HODOX!!!!"

At this, he threw his arms back in delight, waiting for a wave of stunned gasps to wash over him. Instead, he was greeted with a cacophony of derisive laughter that threatened to shatter the windows of Mr. Dentist's auditorium. Sullenly, he quieted the crowd.

"Just what in the hell is so funny, you beetleheads?" he demanded. "This project cost me over five hundred million dollars and almost five years. It is the ultimate in anti-personnel/canine weaponry! With only one of these, I could destroy the entire DCPD, their entire canine unit and finally destroy that nuisance Jim Trooay! You fools, with even five of these, you could rule all of the Florida panhandle!!"

"But...Mr. Dentist...there are no terrorists on the Florida panhan--"

"Shut up Basketball!! Shut up shut up shut up!!!! You've been against this from the start!" Mr. Dentist yelled at Basketball Jones, his diminutive assistant who suffered horribly from Alopecia. Cowed, Basketball slunk away.

"I yam afryaid yyour assistyant is ryight, Myeester Dyeentist," intoned Beluga C. Dostoyevsky, the immensely obese on-site representative of the Russain mafia. "Thyis...ryobit...it lyooks wyeak."

"W-yeak? W-YEAK?!?! I'll show you w-yeak. Beluga, come down here and point your gun at HODOX. If you can stop him before he disables you, I will give everyone in this room one free order of weapons grade plutonium. If not, you must each order at least one HODOX. Fair?"

The entire room mumbled assent and Beluga C. Dostoyevsky waddled next to the platform and drew a pistol from his coat. He aimed the gun squarely at the robot's head as Mr. Dentist unfastened the strap holding HODOX to the platform. Mr. Dentist took out the remote control and pressed a button. Jerkily, much like a child pretending to be an automaton, HODOX headed for the Russian gangster. Beluga laughed and the room joined him in a wave of mild chuckles, eager to obtain their free plutonium.

"Myeester Dyeentist, thyis wyill bye thye yeasiest plyutyonium Y hyave evyer gyotten," Dostoyevsky laughed as he prepared to fire his gun. As his finger tightened on the trigger, however, Mr. Dentist pressed another button on the control and HODOX spoke: "IamONADock...ANDABOARD" whirred the robot in a mechanical drone that sounded like a high-strung telemarketer near the end of his rope. Mr. Dentist pressed the button and the robot said it again.

"Whyat? Whyat dyoes hye myean?" Dostoyevsky asked. Mr. Dentist just shrugged and smiled as the advancing HODOX unit reached arm's length from the gangster.

"Nyo myatter, Y cyan styill shyoot hyim," laughed the mafioso, raising his gun once more. As he did, however, Mr. Dentist jammed a button on the control and HODOX delivered a brutal kick directly to Beluga's balls, causing the Russain to literally explode in a massive ball of flames. The audience sat in stunned silence.

"So now, gentlemen, how many HODOXes can I get you?"

As the terrorists jumped and shouted out their orders to Basketball Jones, Mr. Dentist smiled to himself and rubbed his hands together. "Yes, yes. Soon, my HODOXes will sweep over the world, first destroying DCPD headquarters, capturing the chief and setting the trap for Jim Trooay. And once Trooay has been disposed of, my next phase can begin. Little do these fools know that I will remain in permanent control of each HODOX, waiting until the moment when I can activate their core brains, causing them to turn on their masters and exact my bru--Basketball, did you turn off my microphone? Oh GODDAMMI--"