Vaudevillain

Cookie had every intention to obey Mabel’s orders, mostly because the woman was an absolute terror. Of course, the Jacques all had a bit of a problem with staying on task. It was hard for a minion to remember so many different orders.

This was mostly a problem with the Jacques programming rather than a problem with the orders themselves. See, Jacques were made in the early days of World of Supers, and the code used was still in the early stages. Programmers and developers had long ago figured out self-learning algorithms, but not many had used the code on such a large scale. Well, not in a creative sense.

Therefore, no one had quite ironed out the small kinks that appeared with self-learning algorithms when they weren’t given strict orders. Thus, the first few creations had a more, we’ll say creative, interpretation of rules. The Jacques, being some of the first minions, had some very creative rules indeed.

This was no doubt helped along by Dr. Zlo’s need to ‘play the role.’

The villain’s invention of the Lackey Factory meant the code controlling the game made the Jacques with a cartoonish nature in mind. The minions would have to be wacky, silly, and downright goofy at times. Of course, computers have never been great at deliberately creating humor. Luckily, the computer didn’t have to be, accidental humor was more often than not the result of artificial intelligence.

Said accidental humor was brought about by the computer interpreting silly as an over-fixation on something.

Therefore, when a Jacques was born, it tended to latch onto a specific thing in the world. This could have been something as simple as a high-five or as complex as a space station. This fixation helped the Jacques learn about the world and helped them better interpret orders.

And as we stated with Cookie, his fixation was the process of eating.

Therefore it should come as no surprise (none at all you hear) that once Cookie split from the other Jacques it was instantly distracted by an alluring smell not five minutes down the road from Dr. Zlo’s mansion. All thoughts of finding the Lieberry were put on hold as Cookie succumbed to the allure of cooked meats on a skewer.

As to why there was a skewer cart five minutes away from Dr. Zlo’s mansion? Well, some things are better left a mystery.

Cookie knew it should know better than to ignore Mabel’s orders, but the Jacques were excellent at ‘interpreting’ orders.

Cookie surmised that a skewer cart, while not a neighbor (whatever that was), still held people. And the Jacques all knew that people could often answer a question. Perhaps if Cookie purchased a skewer—or two or three—the shop owner would gladly tell the minion what a neighbor was and where they could be found. Then, Cookie could find this elusive neighbor, collect a cup of flour, and head back to Mabel with a job well done.

The minion wouldn’t even have to find a Lieberry!

Nodding to itself, Cookie let the smell of cooked meats lead it onward.

Players moving around the area all looked at the Jacques strangely, as Cookie was performing its best impression of a cartoon character. The minion was practically floating in the air, its featureless face pulling it along while its feet shuffled behind it in a mad attempt to keep the minion upright. Onlookers could swear that smell lines were wafting through the air, the train rails that kept Cookie chugging along toward its destination.

Eventually, the minion arrived to find a crowd of NPC characters surrounding the skewer cart. Cookie snapped its fingers in frustration. It had hoped no one else had found this delicious-smelling cart and the minion could spend all the time in the world learning to eat. Now, Cookie had to find some way into the crowd.

Well, no time like the present. Cookie wiggled all the jitters away and squared its shoulders. The Jacques marched forward, intent on pushing everyone aside like the evil minion it was.

It came as a surprise to the minion when it bounced off the crowd like a rubber ball on pavement.

Cookie fell to the ground with a crash, the ground rushing to meet the minion like a lover.

A very abusive lover in Cookie’s mind. Hard ground wasn’t the most forgiving of surfaces at the best of times. The Jacques would know, it had dived to the ground more times than it could count.

More than ten, at least.

Grumbling, Cookie stood and planted its feet on the ground. Again, the minion squared its shoulders, performing the action first before wiggling all the jitters out. The Jacques was quite sure it was the process that made it fall to the ground, you see.

Therefore Cookie attempted to push through the crowd again, completely oblivious to the fact that a Jacques had about as much muscle as a geriatric squid.

The minion flopped to the ground a second time, the embrace with the ground equally as unloving as before.

Cookie was starting to resent this love-hate relationship it had with the ground.

With a huff that expelled no air (for Cookie had no mouth), the minion stood. This time, the Jacques decided that perhaps the approach was incorrect. Instead of charging in headfirst, Cookie came in at an angle to the crowd.

Again the loving ground embraced the minion. And again Cookie was berated as it met hard asphalt.

The Jacques continued to try and push through, the subroutines inside its head attempting every angle, every combination of squaring shoulders and wiggling away jitters. Eventually, Cookie made it through.

The minion puffed its chest out in triumph, completely oblivious to the fact that most of the NPCs surrounding the cart had already left.

“Well now, here’s a new face!” the shop seller boomed as Cookie marched to the front of the cart. “You here to try some of my kebabs?”

Cookie nodded and wiped nonexistent saliva from its mouth.

“Oh ho! Eager to for a taste I see!” The NPC meat merchant replied. “Well, I can guarantee you won’t find a better kebab this side of Skyline!”

Cookie nodded in agreement. No doubt this merchant used the finest of meats for his kebabs.

A keen-eyed watcher would, however, notice the merchant kicking a small tub labeled ‘rat’ under his stall. Again, the reasons for this are best left a mystery. This is Cookie’s story, and the Jacques was overtly focused on the many grilling pieces of meat in front of it.

Cookie eagerly pointed out three skewers, practically jumping in place as the merchant plucked the meat off the grill with deft hands and wrapped them together in brown parchment paper for easier carrying.

“Here you are!” the merchant laughed. “That’ll be ten dollars!”

Cookie stopped its revelry. The minion hadn’t brought any money!

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