Doom has the sniffles, if you must know. Doom is ever beset by allergies this time of year, and his otherwise perfect face is a dripping honeycomb crammed with sleepy bees. Is this a picnic? It is not a picnic. However, Doom is undaunted. Doom wouldn't know a daunt if Doom found one floating in the punchbowl.Things need doing.
Doom knows what you're thinking. Doom always does. The song 'Eye in the Sky' by The Alan Parsons Project? That was written about Doom. You're thinking -- a charitable classification for your low cognition -- that it must be a hoot to hear The Exalted One suffer from allergies while clad in his glorious mask. How can you linger to catch Doom unawares in this moment of vulnerability? You want to skulk about until the moment presents itself. Doom advises thus: You betta don't. Doom has destroyed greater men for lesser acts.
But Doom will confess that measures are taken to assuage the symptoms, among them: spicy fare. The sinuses crack open like the seals of Armageddon, and Doom may once more inhale a heady rush of Latverian night air. For a time, unfortunately. Only for a time. And then Doom's nasal cavity collapses like a black hole, with a proportionate gravitational tug from which nary a wisp of exhalation may escape. And once more into despair and anger does Doom tumble.
Richards never has such colds. Doom knows this. 'Eye in the Sky,' remember. Therefore, Richards hoards the secrets of evading allergy attacks for the benefit alone of his own dullard family. Such greed is the hallmark of a small mind. A petty mind. A mind wracked with envy for Doom's wonder. Richards would share this secret if he could but guarantee Doom's suffering would continue. But he needs to see Doom brought low to bolster his own stature.
Doom then will bear this affliction with pride, for its continuance only proves the feeble ego of one Reed Richards. And Doom will eat heartily upon his culinary creation even as Richards dines upon his own heart.
Skillet Chili Lasagna
1 pound ground meat (turkey, pork, beef, Reed Richards's favorite pet, what have you)
2 teaspoons chili powder
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 red/white onion chopped
3 cloves garlic
1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes, undrained
2 cups crumbled tortilla chips
1 cup grated Monterrey jack pepper cheese
Doom commands you to ...
Heat the meat, garlic and onion in a medium-hot skillet. (Take heed: One may use a large sauce pan, but this will provide a dish merely delicious, not transcendent. If one has a real iron skillet, one is directed to use it here.) When the meat is brown, pour out any significant grease.
Add tomatoes, chili powder, and cumin. Bring tomatoes to a boil before turning heat to low. Constantly stir sauce until it thickens appreciably.
Plate chili and cover with grated cheese and and chip debris.
Gobble.
Doom knows what you're thinking. Doom always does. The song 'Eye in the Sky' by The Alan Parsons Project? That was written about Doom. You're thinking -- a charitable classification for your low cognition -- that it must be a hoot to hear The Exalted One suffer from allergies while clad in his glorious mask. How can you linger to catch Doom unawares in this moment of vulnerability? You want to skulk about until the moment presents itself. Doom advises thus: You betta don't. Doom has destroyed greater men for lesser acts.
But Doom will confess that measures are taken to assuage the symptoms, among them: spicy fare. The sinuses crack open like the seals of Armageddon, and Doom may once more inhale a heady rush of Latverian night air. For a time, unfortunately. Only for a time. And then Doom's nasal cavity collapses like a black hole, with a proportionate gravitational tug from which nary a wisp of exhalation may escape. And once more into despair and anger does Doom tumble.
Richards never has such colds. Doom knows this. 'Eye in the Sky,' remember. Therefore, Richards hoards the secrets of evading allergy attacks for the benefit alone of his own dullard family. Such greed is the hallmark of a small mind. A petty mind. A mind wracked with envy for Doom's wonder. Richards would share this secret if he could but guarantee Doom's suffering would continue. But he needs to see Doom brought low to bolster his own stature.
Doom then will bear this affliction with pride, for its continuance only proves the feeble ego of one Reed Richards. And Doom will eat heartily upon his culinary creation even as Richards dines upon his own heart.
Skillet Chili Lasagna
1 pound ground meat (turkey, pork, beef, Reed Richards's favorite pet, what have you)
2 teaspoons chili powder
2 teaspoons ground cumin
1 red/white onion chopped
3 cloves garlic
1 28-ounce can diced tomatoes, undrained
2 cups crumbled tortilla chips
1 cup grated Monterrey jack pepper cheese
Doom commands you to ...
Heat the meat, garlic and onion in a medium-hot skillet. (Take heed: One may use a large sauce pan, but this will provide a dish merely delicious, not transcendent. If one has a real iron skillet, one is directed to use it here.) When the meat is brown, pour out any significant grease.
Add tomatoes, chili powder, and cumin. Bring tomatoes to a boil before turning heat to low. Constantly stir sauce until it thickens appreciably.
Plate chili and cover with grated cheese and and chip debris.
Gobble.