Malice was worried.

He'd had a huge pile of vomit in his bedroom for nearly a month now, and he didn't know what to do with it. On the plus side, it did whatever he told it to do without complaint, and never seemed to need food and water. Which Malice saw as definitely good characteristics for an evil accomplice to have.

On the minus side, it was bright green. And it had bits of carrot sticking out of it everywhere. Hardly ideal if you wanted your evil accomplice to be an inconspicuous getaway driver, or something.

Another plus though, was that his mother refused to come anywhere near his room because of the smell. Which meant he was left alone to do whatever he wanted. On the minus side was the stench. Although Malice had almost gotten used to the stench now.

On the whole, Malice reckoned the plus just about outweighed the minus, for now at least. Although it was a pretty close run thing admittedly.

For the last week or so, Malice had been reading up on experiments that could help with his master plan of taking over the universe. Most of these experiments seemed to involve huge amounts of pain being inflicted on people.

As Malice was a particularly evil young man though, and as he really, really, really wanted to find out where Darth Vader had found the cool face mask, people getting hurt wasn't something that was going to put him off his plans.

Malice was paying more than a passing interest in an article in a witchcraft magazine right now. It was about a special spell. This spell, if performed correctly, would take the person it was aimed at apart. Atom by atom. It would then put them back together again, although none of the atoms would go back where they originally came from.

So, as an example, you could have a handsome young man, rearranged so that his penis was sitting on top of his shoulders, and his head was dangling between his legs. Not only painful, but highly embarrassing.

For the last hour or so, Malice had been checking round to make sure he had everything he needed to experiment with the experiment. He'd already selected his victim. It was going to be the cute young girl from next door who had turned him down once when he asked her out.

He was pretty certain that he had everything arranged properly. He'd prepared the experiment so that he could do it as soon as she came out of her house and into view.

Malice, being the totally organised evil guy that he wasn't, had (of course) failed to read the line at the bottom of the page.

"For best results, use only fresh ingredients. Setting up this experiment in advance may result in lack of control."

Fortunately, he didn't have to wait for very long. Within a couple of hours, Linda, the cute young girl from next door who had turned him down once when he asked her out, came out of her house.

Malice stared at her intently as he started to read out the words from the spell. All of a sudden, there was a flash of light, and Malice stood and watched, delighted, as Linda fell apart, molecule by molecule. Then the molecules started to re-form.

The whole thing took several minutes, at the end of which, a now reconstructed Linda began to scream. As did Malice. He'd expected something horrific to happen. But even he wasn't prepared for what now stood in the street before him.

It was, without any shadow of a doubt, the most disgusting creature ever known to man. Still vaguely identifiable as a member of the female species of the homo-sapiens range, but only just.

(Authors note: What the hell does that last sentence mean? I wrote it and even I can't decipher it. Never mind...)

Little did Malice know of the effect this experiment would have. In another, very similar, dimension, the creature formerly known as Linda would, in later life, venture into politics, under the name of Ann Widdecombe. And, much later, would cause a friend of the authors many sleepless nights when someone asked him what he thought of the idea of Ann Widdecombe felching.

But that's a completely different story, and has no relevance whatsoever to this one...

Malice stared in horror at the creature he'd created. And Vomit stared right back at him. If you can call it staring that is, considering Vomit had pieces of something resembling carrot where normal people would have eyes. For now though, for want of a better word, we'll call it staring.

"Oh no!" exclaimed Malice, simply because he thought exclaiming sounded much more cool than simply saying something. "What can I do now?"

Vomit didn't answer. This was mainly because 3 foot tall bright green piles of puke generally don't have mouths to talk out of. Which was a shame really, as Vomit was extremely intelligent, and knew the solutions to all of Malice's problems.

He just didn't have a way of communicating this information to his boss.

Okay, I think I just called Vomit 'he'. I guess right about now there's someone sat there scratching his or her head and saying something along the lines of "It's a pile of puke. How can it be defined as male or female?"

And, to a certain extent, you'd be correct. Vomit wasn't really of either sex. Vomit was very smart though, which meant he was clearly closer to being male than female.

(Authors Note: before you start giving me hell over that last statement, don't bother. I wont pay you any attention, and I sure as hell wont change my opinion in any way.)

Just look at the facts. Men are clearly more intelligent than women.

All we ever do is go to work, where we mainly pass the time playing solitaire on the computer and flirt with our secretaries, come home, and sit in front of the TV complaining about what a hard day we've had at the office as you fuss about us and make our dinner and stuff.

And you think we're doing you a favour as we only flirt with the secretaries, when it's you that we come home to every night. Are you sure we only flirt with the secretaries though? After all, we are alone in the office for 8 hours a day, 5 days a week...

(Authors Note: I should point out right now that I don't work in an office, or have a secretary to flirt with. Although I wouldn't mind a secretary. As long as she's cute...)

So, where were we?

Oh, yes, discussing Vomit's intelligence and whether we should class him as male or female for the purpose of the story. I think my points were both good and well made, and will be signing autographs later when the fuss has died down a little. If anyone wants one, that is...

Anyway, Vomit had considered writing things down for Malice, but had decided against this approach for several reasons.

Number 1: Malice wasn't very bright. Vomit secretly suspected that Malice may actually be a woman trapped in a man's body. Hence the frustrations with the world and the complete inability to ever get anything remotely right.

Number 2: Vomit couldn't write.

Now, I can already hear you asking how Vomit can be so intelligent, if he isn't even capable of writing a simple note.

Excuse me, but am I correct in thinking that a lot of the most intelligent and powerful men in the world actually dictate any letters they need writing to their secretaries, who then write the letters for them? In between flirting with them of course.

Have you ever considered that the reason these powerful and influential men never write their own letters is because they don't know how to write?

Didn't think so.

But Vomit had another reason he couldn't write. A more complex and complicated reason. He had no thumbs.

Seriously, have you ever tried writing without using your thumbs? I can assure you, difficult is too subtle a word to describe an action as complicated as thumbless writing. It can be done, but it's not even close to easy.

Also, you have to remember that Vomit was, quite simply, vomit. So any attempt he made to write would turn into a soggy mess as he dripped himself all over the paper he was attempting to write on.

So, although he knew all the answers to all of Malice's problems, (including the psychological and sexual ones that Malice himself wasn't aware he was suffering from), Vomit was powerless to help until Malice got himself a computer.

The main problem with that though, was that Malice wasn't allowed access to any computers ever since he accidentally set off every single electronic fire alarm in town when he was trying to hack into the local banks security system in order to insert a virus.

(Malice, being the kind of guy who likes to plan things down to the smallest details, in order to ensure that there was practically no possibility of things going wrong, not, didn't actually have a virus to insert into the banks security system. He just wanted to be sure he knew how to actually hack in if a time or occasion ever arose where he DID have a virus to insert).

Evil he most definitely was. A genius he was also, but only in his own bedroom with his bright green (with bits of something resembling carrots sticking out of it) vomit to back him up.

Which was never actually needed. The back-up thing I mean. As there wasn't a single soul anywhere in the world who was even remotely interested in going anywhere near Malice's bedroom. For any reason at all. Ever.

So, Malice was left alone to concoct his own little evil plans. In the hope that one day he may actually get one of them right. And then people would see what he was capable of. He'd show them, for sure. All of them...