MDMS - 7-Word-Weirdos #37, Stapler of Doom

The Steam-Powered Stapler of Doom

7-Word-Weirdos challenge #37

In the scorched, gear-grinding heart of the Wasteland, where rust was currency and oil was the nectar of the gods, a villain of unparalleled nefariousness cackled in his brass-clad lair. Dr. Victor Von Snap - a steampunk supervillain of the highest (and lowest) caliber - adjusted his goggles and twirled his mustache so diabolically, it practically started unscrewing itself from his face.

“My dear zgnomes and demons, today is the day we redefine torment, the day we elevate inconvenience to an ART FORM!” he bellowed, steam hissing from the pipes of his clockwork exo-suit. “Behold! The Steam-Powered Mega Stapler of Death!”

A massive red painted steel behemoth stood behind him, gears grinding and pistons pumping as it loomed menacingly, the firebox burning brilliantly bright. Its purpose? To deliver a ceaseless, merciless, inescapable barrage of oversized staples - not to kill instantly, oh no, but to ruin documents, fingers, and the very will to live!

The zgnomes - gnarled little creatures with soot-stained faces and an enthusiasm for mild anarchy - gasped in awe. Meanwhile, the demons, their horns polished and their bat-wings flapping lazily, exchanged dubious glances.

“Uh, boss?” one particularly burly demon, Grumblegrack, raised a clawed hand. “Wouldn’t a giant sawblade be, y’know… more efficient?”

“Pah! Efficient?!” Dr. Von Snap howled. “Efficiency is for the mundane! Annoyance is our TRUE goal! This stapler will jam when you least expect it! It will misfire! It will bend staples in that infuriating half-closed state, making its victims doubt reality itself!”

The zgnomes cheered at this stroke of evil genius. One of them, Snickerdoodle the Unhinged, did a backflip off a steam vent and landed next to a crate labeled “Top-Secret Fuel” (which, according to a small disclaimer, was just really angry badgers in cans).

But as the villainous crew worked tirelessly, welding, hammering, and arguing about whether or not evil lairs needed “Open Floor Concepts,” the zgnomes became distracted by a far more pressing issue:

A smuggled-in copy of EXPOSED Magazine - the wasteland’s premiere publication for those who appreciated scandalous, high-octane, steam-powered seduction.

“Blistering brass knobs!” gasped Gizmo Jankins, his beady eyes fixated on the cover girl, D.L. Cyn.

Rendered in impeccable sepia tones, she posed next to a boiler-warmed chaise lounge, her corset laced just tight enough to make physics reconsider itself. Gears, cogs, and petticoats aplenty, she held a wrench like she KNEW how to use it.

The zgnomes gathered around, flipping pages with giddy squeaks. “She’s got a pneumatic leg!” one of them marveled.

“LOOK AT THE SIZE OF THAT WRENCH!” another wailed in admiration.

A demon, trying to look disinterested, peeked over a shoulder and grumbled, “That’s a customized ether-spanner, you uncultured swine.”

Meanwhile, Dr. Von Snap was too busy perfecting the Stapler of Doom’s Malevolent Jamming Mechanism to notice that half his workforce had abandoned ship for a steam-powered siren of seduction.

By the time he turned around, all he saw were dozens of zgnomes huddled together, wide-eyed and whispering about gears, goggles, and the overwhelming allure of high-pressure hydraulics.

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF TESLA’S LEFT TESTACLE IS THIS?!” he screeched.

“Boss,” Snickerdoodle stammered, shoving the magazine behind his back. “Uh, we… we got distracted.”

Von Snap’s mustache coiled in fury. He snatched the magazine, flipped through it, and then....

He paused.

He adjusted his goggles.

He flipped another page.

And then, in a moment of total villainous vulnerability, he muttered: “…That is a very fine wrench.”

A long silence stretched across the lair. The zgnomes nodded sagely.

Finally, Von Snap closed the magazine and handed it back. “Back to work!” he bellowed. “The Wasteland WILL TREMOR in the face of the Mega Stapler of Doom!”

The crew scrambled back to their stations, but their hearts (and wrench-related daydreams) would never be the same.

And thus, as the Stapler of Doom roared to life, its infernal clunk echoing across the wasteland, history was made.

A villain got distracted.

A magazine stole souls.

And somewhere, deep in the heart of the Wasteland…

DevilLivedCyn smiled, knowing her work was done.

The end...?

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7 Word Weirdos Challenge #37

steampunk

wasteland

firebox

magazine

staple

climb

malefactor

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