This is the author speaking:

A year has passed since "Mr. Bigglesworth is Missing". After 100+ reviews I felt no pressure at all in writing this sequel. Nope. None at all. Do I care if you think it sucks? No!

Oh, now I've gone cross-eyed...

Mr. Bigglesworth is Still Missing

By Squeaky

Dr. Evil sat in his evil desk that was located in his evil library of evil books. He read a pop-up book about kittens. No.2 entered.

"Look at all the kitties, No. 2. They remind me of Mr. Bigglesworth."

"But Dr. Evil those kittens have hair and are pretty and---"

"SILENCE!!!"

"I—I mean, they aren't evil kitties…"

"Riiiiiight…. Number 2, have you found out anything about…"

"No."

"Nothing? Not a little…"

"No, Dr. Evil."

"…clue that could lead us…"

"I'm afraid Mr. Bigglesworth is missing for good. He has been gone for a year. September 26, 1999 was the last time he was seen if I'm not mistaken."

"That's okay. I don't need a kitty…"

Suddenly, Dr. Evil broke down in tears and hid under the desk.

"Dr. Evil please…" said Number 2 as his eyes rolled up.

"I want my kitty! I want Mr. Bigglesworth!"

Just then Frau Farbissina entered the room. Dr. Evil quickly stood up as if nothing had happened.

"My uh… evil pen fell down. Just picking it up…" he said, his last words trailing off.

"Dr. Evil, I have brought you something that will hopefully ease your pain. It is a tiny little mascot. You will love it. Guess what it is."

"Is it an evil kitty?"

"No."

"Is it an ill-tempered kitty?"

"No, it's not a kitty."

"Oh."

"Okay, I'll show it to you now. SEND IN THE MASCOT!!!!"

One of Dr. Evil's henchmen entered carrying a small box. Dr. Evil clapped giddily, took the box and opened it. He felt dizzy and turned green.

"Sp—sp—"

"She gave you a spoon?" inquired Number 2.

"SPIDER!!!" cried Dr. Evil as he threw the box in the air and ran out the room.

One Week Later…

Dr. Evil lied on his bed; he dressed in black. Same quasi-futuristic outfit as always, but black. He held an old bag of "Meow Mix" and tried to feed it to the little spider.

"I'm sorry Mr. Studabaker. You just are no Mr. Bigglesworth…" He then shook the bag while he sang between sobs:

"I want chicken… I want liver… oh Mr. Bigglesworth where are you?"

Meow…

"Mr. Bigglesworth? Is it you?"

Meow…

The sound came from the main chamber. Dr. Evil ran through the halls of his evil lair. He passed through the kitchen. Suddenly he tripped and fell.

"Shit!"

"I'm sorry. It's me. I farted."

Dr. Evil hadn't seen Fat Bastard who sat on the table. Evil grimaced; it was filled with grease, lard and butter. The table, too, was as dirty as Fat Bastards face.

"Riiiiiight." He quickly stood up and kept running. He finally arrived at the main chamber.

"Mr. Bigglesworth!" he cried. Indeed Fred Durst from Limp Bizkit had the kitty in his arms. He spoke with Scott who rolled his eyes when he saw his father's pathetic teary-eyed face. Dr. Evil ran with his arms stretched forward. Just when he was going to snatch the kitty from the singer's arms, Fred turned sideways. Dr. Evil crashed into the wall and fell onto the ground, rolling twice. He quickly rose like nothing happened.

"I've just fallen."

"Yeah, we all saw you, idiot." Scott laughed mercilessly.

"Give me, Mr. Bigglesworth!" Dr. Evil tried to pull the kitty away, but Fred didn't let him.

"Get a grip, old man. I found this cat; it's mine," said Durst.

"Riiiiiight," said Evil after composing himself. "If you don't hand Mr. Bigglesworth over I am afraid I will have to take my evil plan into action."

"What plan, freak?" asked Scott.

"I had my best evil computer geeks design a program which will allow all Internet users download music directly from other people's computers. The catch is: it's for free. Slowly but surely, artists will stop making money and the music business will collapse. There is no escape… you will be ruined. That is unless… you give me back my kitty."

Dr. Evil put his pinky on his lower lip proud of his evil plan.

Fred cleared his throat. "Dude, there's already a program that let's you download music for free it's called Author refuses to advertise for N*pster," he said, glad to make him look bad.

"Shit," said Dr. Evil. "Um, Scott you know what? Why don't you go to the sound-proof chamber and look for daddy's glasses?"

"No."

"Scott, guest…" said Dr. Evil pointing to Fred.

"Fine I'll look for your dumb glasses."

Five minutes later, Scott comes back.

Dr. Evil was standing alone hugging Mr. Bigglesworth who purred, glad to be with his master again.

"I just remembered you don't wear glasses, you ass."

"That's right. I don't," he replied. Scott knew his dad had just done something evil.

"Hey psycho, where's Fred?" asked Scott in his usual insolent tone.

"I'm afraid Mr. Durst had a little accident," replied Dr. Evil.

"Accident? What are you talking about?"

" He fell into a pit of hot MAG-ma. Very sad, really."

"Hot MAG-ma?"

"Hot MAG-ma."

"You always kill my friends who happen to be famous artists! I hate you! I hate you!" cried Scott and he ran to his room.

Mr. Bigglesworth meowed.

Dr. Evil looks at you.

"That's right. Whenever Mr. Bigglesworth is bothered I get angry, and when I get angry, Mr. Bigglesworth gets upset. And when he gets upset, I get upset too. And when I get upset well he gets… upset. Ok, you already know what happens when we're pissed: people DIE! Bwah-ha-ha!"

Dr. Evil laughs his evil laughter. He laughs louder and more evil. "HA-HA-HA-HA!"

The laugh gets quieter. "Ohhh, hmmm. Whoo-hoo! Yeah…" He pauses. "Okay, now I sound like an idiot. This story's over."

THE END