{ Goofy entry to the When Villains Triumph event. Read Bean’s POV Here. That was an order. }
{ { { The image below is a still from the security footage that depicts the moment before The Disaster. This vital piece of history was captured by Lenny Themself. Enjoy ~ } } }
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“DEAR DIARY…. TODAY, MY LIFE WAS RUINED”
What a horrid and brilliant evening for a mope. Firelight flickered throughout the massive, steaming hot bedroom as the only source of light, throwing dramatic shadows upon a looming and funny-looking figure seated upon a large, velvet chair before the fireplace. Where the fire was. The fire that made HIM feel swaddled in the perfect amount of ambient angst.
And who was it who sat on the chair before the flickering fire, wrapped splendidly in a robe with a moist towel upon his knobby head? Why, I’m happy you asked. Allow me to introduce you to…
MR. NOODLES, THE GREAT CANOODLER.
Mafia boss of wherever the hell this place was and the areas surrounding it. Mr. Noodles was by far the most short-tempered iguana you could meet who reeked of self-importance and collard greens.
Mr. Noodles’ long, alien-like fingers shook while he stared at the blank page with those prehistoric orange eyes. Plans ruined… ruined, RUINED ~~!! How could he ever put this… this FEELING into words, he wondered?
“I, MISTER NOODLES, THE GREAT CANOODLER. LORD OF THE MAFIA AND MOST HANDSOME AND IMPORTANT IGUANA IN THE WORLD. Being THE BEST can be tiring, very much so. Being a boss is tiring. Being so good at what I do all the time is tiring.
And so I thought… I deserve a vacation, yes? Yes, yes, yes… that I do. ONE DAY of no mischief, one day of no scheming, one day of UTMOST kindness, one day where NOBODY asks me for any advice, or how many fingers or ears should be lopped off for misdemeanor offenses. Today WOULD HAVE been the day that I, MR. NOODLES, THE GREAT CANOODLER, would take the most perfect vacation.
Today was going so perfect too. I started the day with a nice spa, for the dreaded shedding season is upon me once again. The spa was perfect, my lunch was splendid, my KINDNESS today was UNMATCHED, and there was not a single second of canoodling to be seen!
A PERFECT day needed to end PERFECTLY, so I went to play a game that I hold VERY near and dear.
And so off I went, in my full splendor, into a room of the usual lesser beings to play my little, un-canoodling game while being more KIND than I have ever been.
I hated everyone there. I hated her ugly pink hat, I hated Mr. Dealer’s stinky blue eyes and stupid white outfit, I hated that man who looked like Daniel Craig’s older brother’s younger brother (((STUPID))), I hated that big and weird rabbit who kept eating the cards and was NOWHERE NEAR as handsome as I.
The exact moment where my life was ruined started with an Itch. I mistakenly BLESSED the table with some of my shed skin, and, DEAREST DIARY, CAN YOU BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED NEXT?
He SCREAMED. That big, scale-less OAF of a winged weasel screamed to raise, and SHED OFF HIS OWN WING!
HOW DARE HE??? HOW DARE HE TRY TO OUTSHINE ME BY SHAMELESSLY SHEDDING A BIGGER PIECE OF HIMSELF THAN I? HOW DARE HE SEE ME AS A THREAT ON THE GREAT DAY OF NON-CANOODLING?? HOW DARE HE SPILL ALL THAT BLOOD (syrup?) ON MY BEHALF ???
HE RUINED MY DAY OF KINDNESS, RUINED MY DAY OF VACATION, I HATE HIM !!! "
The rage about what happened grew, and grew and grew until Mr. Noodles could hold it in no more. His dewlap unfurled as a mighty YELL rang through the room. Mr. Noodles was overtaken by a tantrum of head bobbing and flailing those massive jowls and weird little arms to and fro like a CHILD having the biggest meltdown known to man. The Great Canoodler eventually composed himself, pushed his dewlap back down and gave it a soothing stroke or seven. He picked up his moist towel from off the ground and placed it back around his head with a haughty air of nobility. He picked up the thrown diary, folded one gangly back leg over the other and continued to write.
“I hate him. I hate him, I hate him, I hate him. BEAN, THE ACCOUNTANT, you have bested me today, and ruined everything. Do I not deserve a break? Does the world need MR NOODLES, THE GREAT CANOODLER, that much?”
Huh. The iguana paused. Maybe this was a sign… a sign from the great beyond itself!
“Thank you, Bean The Accountant. Thank you for giving me the sign that MR. NOODLES THE CANOODLER is far too important to take a break, FAR TOO IMPORTANT FOR THE WORLD TO MISS. My life is RUINED because of you, for I am now BURDENED with the knowledge of my importance, and my room smells of maple syrup.
Curse you, Bean The Accountant. Curse you forever more. You may have won this time, but I - MR. NOODLES THE CANOODLER - won your stupid stinky wing in that game. Serves you right. Expect NO TAXES from me this year or the next !!!! "
An ample number of exclamation points were added to his liking, and the diary was closed with a hefty sigh. Mr. Noodles relaxed back into his chair and stared up at the massive wing that decorated the top of his fireplace.
One day… one day he will make Bean The Accountant pay. And not just his own taxes or rent either.
Mr. Noodles the Canoodler is a character based off of my own pet iguana, Mushu. The Most important, and The Most Unkind
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