Even after all these years, nothing says "Stay out of my territory!" like the classic M18A1 Claymore antipersonnel mine.
Of course then I got to be feeling somewhat blue, because land mines have become the endangered species of the defensive munitions world after years of misuse and abuse by irresponsible people, and that's wrong because they do have their place and when used properly they do their job well and save many lives by denying real estate to the bad guys.
And it came to me that one of the biggest opponents of land mines was the late Princess Diana of England. She used to really hate them and she traveled the world to complain about them until that fateful day that the French paparazzi herded her car into that post and ended what had previously been an excellent chance for me to become King of the World.
Ludicrous you say? Not at all. It was simple. It worked like this:
1. I meet Princess Diana, possibly in response to one of the nice letters of introduction that I sent her. (Hey, her solicitors couldn't possibly intercept them all, and it's not like those "cease and desist" orders that they kept mailing me have any force in this country...)
2. She falls madly in love with me and we marry. When she becomes my wife, that means that I get to be a Prince of England. (OK, there may be some legal questions to be hammered out there, but work with me. This gets better.)
3. Shortly after the wedding, one tragic accident strikes down the entire rest of the Royal Family. (Hey, it worked in the movie "King Ralph" so get mad at Hollywood if you're British and easily offended.)
4. With the rest of the Royals gone, that would make Diana the new Queen, and as the man of the family I would become the King of England.
5. As the new head of the Britain, I would take control of the nation's military forces, including the nuclear arsenal. I would use these glorious instruments of foreign policy to revive the British Empire.
The Lion's roar would be heard once more across Africa, the Middle East and parts of Asia. I would unite all of these less-evolved countries under the banner of the New Commonwealth and by virtue of good government I would raise the standard of living in most of the third-world regions under my control by giving them access to education, decent medical care, clean water, and industrial jobs. I would also accept many of their young men into my new military because they would be needed for the next step: Europe.
Sweeping across the English Channel, we'd invade France. The next day we'd move on to some other countries that might be a little harder to capture--like Belgium or Lichtenstien. From there we'd sweep Europe and stage for a campaign into Russia starting the very next Spring. (none of this "let's invade Russia in the winter" crap. Apparently I'm much smarter than Hitler and Napoleon were.)
America would be kept out of the war because...
Hmm... Hang on here. Why would America be kept out again? Oh yeah! That's right. Because I would use all the money in the British treasury to finance my campaign for the US Presidency! I would be President of America as well as King of England. (I told you that it got better.) And I would be incredibly popular because, as head of the spy agencies of both countries, I would have many minions whose job it was to find dirt on any potential opponent or critic, and if that didn't work, I would have other minions ensure that those critics had unfortunate accidents. I know it sounds harsh, but spies and assassins need jobs too and why have these guys around if you're not going to use them, you know?
Anyway... I would have used my powers for good of course. I would have united everyone in the world under one banner with one common currency and a universal language--American English. (None of that wussy British "English" for you... It's "elevator", not "lift", dammit. And we'd have started calling soccer by that name. Football is what the NFL pays and Europe needs to get that straight.)
I would even have found a place in my military for Mexico's Vicente Fox. Heck--anyone who can get 10% of his country's population into another country without a shot being fired is just the sort of military genius that I'd be needing.
But alas... all of that was lost when Princess Diana died. And ow I know how The Brain felt when another one of his otherwise flawless plans was knocked into the gutter by that moron, Pinky.
Sigh....
But tomorrow I shall again attempt to take over the world.
Hmmm.. I wonder if Vicente Fox needs a General Manager of his United States Invasion Forces, Day Laborer Division?
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