Why wasn't she screaming?

Nary a whimper came from Roxanne Ritchi. She just fixed him with that ironic stare, that thin-lipped patient smile and resolutely refused to be terrified. Not only that, she had laughed at him. Laughed. At him. The master of all villainy.

It had been ages since he'd gotten a really good shriek out of her. He'd have to devise something new. Something completely original. Something really horrific. Though, it would be difficult to top this afternoon's spectacular, completely unlooked for success.

The expression she wore as Minion escorted her out of the lair was absolutely priceless. Utter disbelief. It was clear from her face, she was in slack-jawed shock, unable to comprehend the reality that Metro Man, her saviour, would never save her or anyone else again. But did she scream? No.

He would have to give the matter some serious thought while Minion was off getting decorations and provender for their celebration tonight. He grinned in anticipation as he reclined in his gigantic blue beanbag. Minion would be sure to get blueberry cupcakes. He knew master was unaccountably fond of them. But Megamind liked a good, high quality scream even more, and despite his attempts, Minion just couldn't replicate that.

The supervillain was a connoisseur of fear. In the early days, it had taken a great effort to stage-manage his capers to evoke the greatest possible reaction. It was no easy task timing explosions to go off in perfect increments as to allow for the crowd noise to rise above the din. It was a symphony. He'd savour the terrified collective gasp, the hyperventilating, and then those delicious high notes of terror. Floating above the devastation in his Megazeppelin, he imagined he could hear them wetting themselves, and giggled like a school girl.

The crowning jewel had been his coming out party. Before then, he'd just been warming up, contenting himself with petty larceny, secretly gathering the supplies he'd need to build an army. But now, it was time to step out into the spotlight.

His target was the brand new Metro City Mall. The night before its grand opening, he wired the place with enough nitroglycerin to turn it into a gigantic blue mushroom cloud.

The explosion caused millions of dollars in property damage, and plenty of general mayhem. Metro City clinics had reported seventy-two cases of punctured eardrums, and double that in new diagnoses of PTSD. Shortly thereafter the Megamind Terrorism Survivors support group was formed, and Megamind, anticipating a spate of complete mental breakdowns, gleefully plotted a guest appearance. Oh, the possibilities were limitless!

The blaring car alarms had gone on for hours, mixing with the ambient noises of sirens and shouts. The blaze burned so hot that the fire crews couldn't get within more than fifty feet of the blast site. The entire complex had been reduced to flaming, molten slag. It was beautiful.

Remarkably, no one had been killed. The brainbots had bound and gagged the rent-a-cops and left them in the parking garage, safely out of the way so that the charges could be rigged without interference. Floating high above, Megamind watched the scrambling firefighters in Haz-Mat suits trying to combat the flames with their hoses, the jets of water turning instantly to steam in the intense heat. He did a little victory dance around the gondola, and moonwalked over to the hostage chained to the bulkhead.

"What do you think of my debut, Miss Ritchi? Do you think I have a shot at stardom?" He held up her KMCP microphone to her face, but the junior reporter had screamed herself into a dead faint.

Oh, the glory days. The memory of that scream carried him through each prison stretch. Just the perfect pitch and treble, with the fine vibrato that differentiates a true scream from a mere shout. He wished he'd recorded it for posterity. Or maybe as background for dining.

That night had been magical. It was a glorious introduction, and cemented his position as the most feared criminal in the history of Metro City. He'd never really been able to match up to it, despite all of the planning, all of the attempts. Probably because that pesky fly-boy had never let him get that far.

Shortly after the Metro Mall explosion, to Megamind's dismay, his old childhood rival appeared on the scene. The self-styled Metro Man wowed the crowd by crashing through the gondola window, seizing the prostrate Roxanne, and then playing a quick game of hacky-sack with Megamind's air ship. Then he demonstrated excellent use of his laser vision on the gasbag, resulting in a massive hydrogen fireball.

A concussion, some second degree burns, and several cracked ribs later, Megamind found himself right back in the big house. Metro Man sent him a gift-wrapped copy of Hindenburg: A History, and Roxanne Ritchi made broadcasting history, netting an exclusive interview with the city's shiny new celebrity.

From that day, there had been fewer and fewer screams. Each plot was more grandiose and horrifying than the last, but each and every one of them was ultimately foiled by the city's golden boy. Mister Goody-Two-Shoes was always there to steal Megamind's thunder, to spoil his fun, and to hijack his favourite victim.

Once it was clear to Megamind that the hero was obviously smitten with the young reporter, he made a point of kidnapping her at least once or twice a month. Roxanne went from screams, to shouts, to yells, to growls, to angry, stony silence. And lately, to mockery. She patronized him. She laughed at him. She didn't find him terrifying at all.

She wasn't laughing now. He watched her from the confines of the invisible car. Still weighted down with the horror of it, she took heavy staggering steps to the corner and hailed a cab. Megamind smiled, imagining that he could see the shiver of fear that raced down her spine, then turned to his companion.

"City Hall, Minion."

Megamind put his fingertips together, and let out a hyena cackle. Roxanne would scream again, soon enough. The whole city would scream.

One Year Later...

"Darling, can you do that again, only louder?"

Megamind grinned even as the palm of her hand impacted his face.