Like most men who grew up in the 60's I've always dreamed of being some sort of spy. For some reason being a suave, worldly man seems to appeal to most young boys. Maybe it's the cool cars that always drive through the adventures, usually equipped with weapons and neato gadgets. Heck, you even get to play with miniature, heavily armed helicopters. Who wouldn't want to have a job like that?
But it's now time to face the bitter, bitter truth. The time to become the secret agent of my dreams has passed me by. It takes a handsome, confident and slim man to fill these shoes (I look more like this). I fall short on other qualifications as well. While I'm pretty handy with a gun, I can't do knives at all. I'm also not lucky (or crazy) enough to invade secret bases armed only with a suppressed handgun and some explosives
With these drawbacks ever in my mind, I've decided to become a super-villian and rule the world!
What I have to do is build secret lairs, recruit and equip an army of henchmen, and develop some doomsday weapons and unstoppable super weapons. I'll also have to recruit a few unstoppable and incredibly large personal henchmen to do the dirty work for me. I'll have my evil yet geeky scientists install a bomb in each henchman that will detonate any time someone says "Bond. James Bond". That should keep me safe from the only threat to my bid to Rule the World! Bwah ha ha ha!
I'll also recruit a number of gorgeous women (what super-villian doesn't have a few babes wandering around?). With my army of babes I'll .....
Well, actually, if I have an army of babes wandering around the lair then my desire to rule the world would probably fade.
This is why I could never succeed as either a super-villian or super-spy. Lack of career strategy.