Thrud and Thyron stood unflinching as their mother heaped scorn upon them.

“By the time I was your age, I had enslaved my first planet and had a legion of zombie mercenaries to do my bidding. Your sister is already the most feared space pirate in the Zygon Cluster. The most badass thing you two have ever done is play hooky from Evil School – and that was to volunteer in some fetid home for retired miscreants. What is wrong with you two?”

“Mother, we’re not as bad as….”

“No, Thrud, you are not as bad as I expected. That’s the problem!” yelled Raven, jabbing a black-taloned finger at her twin sons. “Your father would be turning in his grave had he not been atomized by the Orb of Horon. Will you leave it to your sister, who is only three years older than you, to carry on the Throttel family name? Have you any idea how pathetic that is?”

“There is simply no reason why we cannot do justice to the family name, mother,” interjected Thyron, his pouting demeanor fueling the fire of her rage.

“Really!” snarled Raven. “And how do you propose to do that? Liberate a penal colony? Sell space cadet cookies?”

The scourge of the galaxy continued to rant for several minutes about her twin sons’ lack of malevolence.

“Your father and I come from a long line of villains. Our ancestors committed some of the most heinous crimes imaginable,” she complained. “We knew there was something wrong when you were infants. Your first word was empathy.”

The twins waited patiently for her emotional rollercoaster to enter a downward path. Presently, Raven’s anger collapsed and re-emerged as self-pity.

“You weren’t raised like this,” she moaned. “On your fifteenth birthday we gave you your very own Death Star. You were the envy of your classmates at the Twilight Zone Low School. And what did you do? Turn it into an agricultural cooperative.”

“That was one of our finest science projects,” observed Thyron. His brother concurred.

“What am I to do with you!” cried Raven. “There isn’t a single dark force military academy in the galaxy that will take you. I tried separating you, and that didn’t work. And I will not pay for one more evil tutor or therapist. Your father had such ambitions for his only sons. Oh, Throg, Dark Lord of the Nether Regions, I wish you were still here with me!”

The horned gorgon that Raven cradled licked its mistress with a forked tongue.

“Look! Even Grinder is upset,” said the distraught woman and patted the mini monster.

“Mother, we do feel bad about this,” offered Thrud.

“You do!” said Raven hopefully. “Do you really feel bad?”

“Of course,” confirmed Thyron. “We’ve been meditating on it for days.”

“No! Evildoers do not meditate!” she shouted. “You always do this to me! First, you raise my hopes, then dash them like fluffbeak chicks on a rock.”

Her imagery made the twins wince. The three fell into an awkward silence. Thrud was the first to speak up.

“Mother, we have a suggestion.”

“If you will allow us to explain,” added his brother reprovingly.

Raven almost erupted again but managed to control herself and allowed them to speak.

The twins explained they wanted to be conflicted good guys. The latter words made her recoil in disgust, but Raven stayed her words.

“We have found a suitable planet,” said Thrud.

The twins took turns explaining their plan, as was their habit.

“One of those frigid, rocky worlds with angry oceans and subdued light. We’ll mope around in oversized robes, being cynical and conjuring dark prophecies,” said Thyron.

“And we will nurture a reputation for being reclusive, reluctant heroes and wait for distressed people needing our help to find us. Then we’ll begrudgingly help them with the caveat that we’re not wholly good.”

“We’ll tell them in no uncertain terms that we’re terribly conflicted and on the edge of tipping into the abyss,” added Thyron.

They paused and waited for her to react.

“What do you think, Mother?” they said in unison when their mother’s silence became unbearable.

Raven scowled.

“Remember, we wouldn’t be total heroes,” assured Thyron.

“Absolutely not. We’d be flawed, deeply flawed,” said Thrud. “We may even do some evil stuff.”

Their mother slumped. “I suppose it’s the worst you can do."

Both boys heaved a sigh of relief.

“But don’t expect me to visit,” cautioned Raven.

“Thank you, Mother!”

“And be warned that your trust fund is not a bottomless pit. I wish it were. That would at least cheer me up. Oh, and do not, under any circumstances, tell your sister. She’s having enough trouble with that scurvy crew of hers.”

They agreed.

“Now kiss me and be gone,” she said.

“We love you, Mother!” they said, landing kisses as ordered.

“Enough!” said Raven shooing them away.

The troubled villainess watched her sons leave, realizing she was as conflicted as they wanted to be. Raven was exhausted and in desperate need of comfort. She took an acid bath and retired to the dungeons for the night with a cup of hot bile.