A frenzy of curls danced jerkily as a convenient gust of wind swept through the tangled web of master thievery and deceit. The walls, artistically splayed with splotches of white and motley green, spoke of generations hence, each carrying their own legacy of haphazardly flinging nameless excrement across the same wretched granite, unknowingly urging creeping grey fuzz across tilted slabs.

"So you want to be a super-villain?"

A rasping whisper rang eerily followed closely by a practiced cackle. An ominous cloaked figure twirled around majestically only to reveal a rather diminishing fellow barely his teens. Bespectacled, shivering and most decidedly snot-nosed, he ran a grotty digit across the page in decided excitement. Showcasing a knack for reading aloud any toddler would be proud of, the figure descended into the darkness and sat primly upon his make-shift throne, which appeared to the untrained eye, as a motley yellow carpet of mould.

"The first and decidedly the most important step to the art of wrongdoing is your dastardly plot."

Frowning in concentration the auburn haired midget stared openly in confusion. It was great and all, taking over the world would be nice (smiting, cackling, not to mention sporting an extensive range of dark fluttering cloaks), however when it came to plotting…

Let's just say candy and rainbows didn't quite fit into any regimented evil plot.

Frowning in concentration, he traced his finger onwards, adamant and not easily deterred by the prospect of the numerous perilous paper cuts charging his way. Eyes widening as he gingerly - or rather, brutally - fingered the ancient text with a pointed pinky, he brought the printed words dangerously close to his blotchy creased forehead.

Words splayed erratically across the said page entranced him, urging magnificent - wait, no- stupendous notions to whirl sweepingly within his meagre mind in their curious large sweeping semi-circular bi-trapezoidal type motions.

There was no time for doubt, tissues or polite sniffing. The time was at hand and he, Gregory Matthew Renolds, was going to make a difference.

By fair, foul or mind-blowing master plans to take over the universe, tomorrow certainly promised a hell lot more than a dank cave and a ratty old book.