Dastardos had returned to the lair to find Pester in a similar state of emotion. Pester was seated at his computer with his head on top of the keyboard, sobbing violently.

"Missing your wife already? Want me to go tell him that you want to come crawling back?" Dastardos offered with mock sympathy. He was rewarded by Pester hurling a paperweight in the shape of Piñata Central at him. The paperweight phased through Dastardos' stomach and he rolled his good eye. "Guess that's a 'no…'"

"My reputation is going to be RUINED, Dastardos!" Pester blubbered, slamming a fist onto the poor, hapless desk and sending various knickknacks tumbling off of it. "Not to mention all of the girls will be on their guard! I can't just go back out there and kidnap my first choice again!"

"Your reputation wasn't already in shambles?" Dastardos folded his arms.

Pester slo-o-owly turned his chair to face Dastardos. "You're right!" Pester slammed a fist into his palm. "Who needs a woman to worry about? They're more trouble than they're worth! I can make an heir all by myself!" He jumped to his feet and grinned. "DASTARDOS! Fetch my DNA extraction equipment!"

"Uh, weren't the last four cloning attempts enough?" Dastardos grimaced as he thought of the Ruffians. He really didn't want another failed Pester clone running around.

"Fifth time's the charm!" Pester laughed. "Come on, off you go!"

Dastardos made a mental note to kill whatever monstrosity came out of Pester's cloning machine as he drifted towards the door.

"Hmm…" Pester pondered as Dastardos reached the door. "IDEEEEA~!"

Dastardos winced and chewed on his lip. He knew the next thing that would come out of Pester's mouth would be terribly infuriating.

"Perhaps we should try cloning you instead this time! Our foolish visitor left his shovel in the hallway; go grab that and use it to slice off a sample of your hair!" Pester clapped his hands together joyously.

Dastardos cringed and turned his head to face his boss, who was grinning expectantly.

"Go on!" Pester flicked his wrist at Dastardos, speaking as if he was talking to a small child.

Dastardos groaned and floated through the door, down the hall, past the shovel, and out into the night. He'd had it up to here with his boss; he was willing to deal with the consequences in the morning if it meant he could go home now.

Professor Pester sat in his chair for about fifteen minutes waiting for Dastardos to return. Oh, that's right, he's half blind thanks to me, Pester thought with an amused look on his mask as he whirled his chair to face his computer monitor. Must be having trouble finding the shovel in the dark. Too bad for him!

Pester spent about an hour griefing people on a gardening forum before he realized just how much time had passed. "Damn it, where IS that boy?" Pester slammed his palms on the desk again and hoisted himself to his feet. "Ugh, I should have known he'd leave!" He fished in his pocket for his Alert System and dialed Dastardos' number. He got no answer, but he began screaming at Dastardos' voicemail.

"DASTARDOS, IF YOU DON'T GET BACK HERE AND LET ME CLONE YOU I SWEAR THAT I WILL GRAB THE SHOVEL IN THE HALLWAY AND-"

Dastardos stabbed a finger into his Alert System's End button until Pester's voice trailed off into perfect silence.

"Sorry, Professor…" he murmured as he slipped the system back into his pocket. "I'm a little busy at the moment." He grinned sadistically as his one good eye swept over a brand new garden like a prison spotlight. Five sick Whirlms, a sick Squazzil, and two sick Pretztails dotted the small dirt landscape, pale and gasping. Dastardos had no idea how a garden could get this bad, but he wasn't about to complain.

He twitched his hand and his staff appeared in it, his grin widening.

This was going to be a fun way to vent his frustrations…