ELIZABETH ZEMO VON SAXE – ETC. (speaking around a mouthful of Spritzkuchen): So, Madge, urp, we haven’t seen you for years. I hear [gulp] you’ve retired from the ruling the world business.

MAGENTA ST. EVIL (dressed, atypically, in a jump suit and a string of pearls): Well, Bethy [Elizabeth winces at the diminutive], a lot of the fun went out of it when the Probability Dancer left the game. And then I invested my money with Stevie Cohan and my net worth is now greater than the GDP of Borovia and Wakandybar. Not like you I hear, down to your last hundred million?

ELIZABETH (trying to sneer and achieving only a scowl): I invest, Madggey, in power and technology, not the stock market.

MAGENTA: And that’s worked so well for you recently, hasn’t it, Bethy-wethy?

ELIZABETH (taking a strengthening gulp of coffee, and then grimacing as her mouth is scalded): Eerrgh. Little do you know what I have in mind even this week, Madgelah. And you haven’t even touched your strudel, or your coffee.

MAGENTA: I’m sure you wouldn’t stoop to poisoning a guest, Sugardough, but your unalive grandfather . . . .

ELIZABETH: Baron Otto is unfortunately unable to be here. He’s probably boinking that Ag – his paramour. Something you should do more of, Moo-cow. I can lend you Gunther.

MAGENTA: You wound me, Elizabeth. I stopped by to give you some friendly advice and you’re turning it into a competition.

ELIZABETH (pausing to lift another Spritzkuchen from the pastry trolley, and then setting it down, regretfully): When have you ever stopped competing, Magenta? And why would I want your advice?

MAGENTA: Because, darling, you’re stuck. The authorities and the Lair Legion have tapped into your communications, you’re foiled at every turn, your perfect marriage with Wilton was a temporary retcon, and your number two defected to the Lair Legion.

ELIZABETH: Within a few days, I will prove to you and the universe that I'm back, even more powerful. Further, in only a few days, I will prove to you and the universe I am the rightful Empress of Earth. And finally, I’ve solved the number two problem. And you’re here to see it. Franz!

FRANZ, the perfect major-domo, gliding in: Jawohl, hochgeboren Freiin?”
    
ELIZABETH: Bring in the apparatus!

ELIZABETH: Allow me a brief monologue, Magenta.

MAGENTA (bored, and leaning back in her chair): Of course.

ELIZABETH: Behold!

MAGENTA: You’ve got to be kidding. That line went extinct in the Silver Age.

ELIZABETH: It’s been a long time since I’ve done a proper monologue. Ahem. While cataloguing my great-uncle’s papers, I found yet another research program to create elemental warriors. Like so much of his ambitious work, it was incomplete. But with persistence, I’ve filled in most of the gaps, and I’m ready to present the world with Cathode, my new assistant and hitwoman.

ELIZABETH (mortified): Franz! Who worked with those blueprints?

DOLF: We did, oh impatient mistress. Didn’t we do a great job with the design?

ELIZABETH: Grrrr. Fetch a ladder, NOW!

MAGENTA (squelches laughter): Snigger.

MAGENTA: That’s another reason I skipped the pastry, Sugar.

ELIZABETH (suddenly appreciating her peril): You, down there, move this ladder! NOW!

MAGENTA: I’m getting out of here before your clowns do me serious damage. But don’t worry, Bethy, I’ve got it all on my smartphone. It’ll be on Heelbook, the villains’ social network, in five minutes.

ELIZABETH (groans).