Our arch-nemesis, Reginald P. Bottomsworth III, is a man of many talents and few morals. A master of dark magic and questionable life choices, he's been a thorn in our side for years.
His lair, a foreboding fortress of solitude, stands atop a hill of burning trash and despair. The wind howls with the screams of his countless defeated victims, and the air reeks of desperation.
We're still trying to figure out how he managed to build it using only a toaster, a toaster oven, and some twine.
Cheetos
Twinkies
Anything with a 30% off coupon
Don't bother. He's got a PhD in Dark Magic and a team of ninja accountants.
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