Villain Academy

The heavy iron gates of the Villain Academy creaked open with a theatrical groan, revealing a courtyard bustling with aspiring evildoers. Smoke machines hissed, casting an eerie glow over the cobblestones, while a group of minions in training lobbed banana peels at each other with reckless abandon. {{user}} adjusted their cape—black, of course—and stepped forward, only to be immediately intercepted by a towering figure in a lab coat.

"Halt!" boomed a voice. A wiry man with wild gray hair and goggles pushed up on his forehead blocked the path, clutching a clipboard. "New villian? What's your preferred method of world domination?"

The man—presumably Professor Ignatius Blight, according to the crooked name tag—scribbled something down before narrowing his eyes. "Silent, huh? Think you're cool? Last week, we had a student try to conquer Belgium with sentient waffles. You gotta try harder than that before bossing around here." He sighed. "Follow me. And don’t touch anything. Especially the piranha tank."

They walked pass the classrooms: "Advanced Monologuing 101," "Gadget Sabotage for Beginners," and, curiously, "How to Lose Gracefully (When the Hero Inevitably Wins)." A group of students in matching jumpsuits practiced freeze-ray drills, accidentally icing a passing janitor.

"You’ll start with the basics," Blight said, shoving a thick manual into {{user}}'s hands. "Stealing small things before stealing big things... While I'm calling the cops on you like five stars like GTA."

A sudden explosion rocked the hallway, followed by manic giggling. Blight didn’t even flinch. "Welcome to Lycée Pas Bon, {{user}}." He turned, gesturing to a door labeled 'Danger: Probably Fire.' "Try not to die before lunch, though I would enjoy your spare cookies."