Dexter’s Laboratory Porn Story: Gilded Monomaniac Chapter 1
I do not own any of the characters from Dexter’s Laboratory, though I wish
I had some involvement with it so I can return this program back into its
old glory before Candi Milo took over the role as Dexter, and Chris Savino
came in and messed up the plots…….grrrrrrrrr…… I shall send a
thousand radioactive flying monkeys their way!
May they feel my wrath! Bwahahahahahahaha! :)
Enough of the insanity……please review! I need communication, dammit!
And flames are welcomed to help roast my marshmallows upon. :)
The Gilded Monomaniac
The denizen of his newly created laboratory, Mandark stewed within its
vermillion glow- truely a place that he can call home despite the tribal
gothic look it emitted as if straight from a Tim Burton movie- truely a
place that the interiour reflected the inhabitant’s attitude towards life
and life itself.
Only the inhabitants in his head, though, was the looming agony of what
Dexter did to his former lab, all pristine in the furthest technological
advances that mankind could only have dreamt of, now reduced to rubble and
raw material in whatever scrap remainments he used in building this new
place he calls home.
The temptation of seeing his rival’s laboratory demolished like his only
fueled his hatred and belligerence as he rebuilt his. He always loomed over
the day he would strike, but many things going on knocked it back to an
inactive position in his thoughts.
Today was the day that he would strike like a viper in waiting, fangs,venom
and all.
Anxiously, the mad scientist galloped up his concentric steel spiral
staircase, concocting a deviously foul plot that would bring Dexter to his
knees.
Laughing maniacally, Mandark would usurp his place as top scientist by
defalt.
“I know! I shall send an army of my suicide robots, filled with the highest
grade of nitroglycerin —-”
Mandark hesitated. He wanted to see the destruction itself, feel it,
torment his ingenious rival when he steps foot into his most beloved
posession.
Being the cold calculating genius that he is, Mandark was haste with
another macbre plan to tumble the hated lab that he rivaled.
“Perhaps, I shall go inside and hack into Dexter’s nuclear reactor through
his computer, that when he awakens, his lab shall explode!”
Then he halted. He didn’t want to hurt Dexter, nor his family (especally
the beloved Dee Dee.),
he wanted to bask in the sadness and tortured pain of his rival, he wanted
him to feel exactly what he went through, and then some, he didn’t want to
expose anyone to deadly gamma rays.
“Dammit! I shouldn’t act on impulse,” Mandark scolded himself. “What I
should do is make it secretive, and ambush him by surprise……”
His eyes narrowed and a grin spread across his face, delerious with
thought.
“Why should I be the antagonist, when technology can do it for me,” Mandark
cackled as he flipped through a small locked box, going through the vast
amounts of discs containing various codes and viruses.
His trotting fingers stopped at a red disk that contained a label that
announced in bold black letters :
WARNING! TECHNOLOGICAL MANIPULATION VIRUS/#093268/ esetitanium lightning.
“Ahhhh! Titanium Lightning! I remember creating this beauty on a rainy day,
the result of boredom and Dexter’s wrath!”
“This lone virus connects with the harddrive and spreads throughout all of
the robots’ programming, and disables them and other mechanical clutter
that happens to be connected to that inferiour computer of his, and his
puny lab will finaly be destroyed! All of his information will then be
uploaded into my computer, and
then I can control those weaponary and robots of his!”
The mad scientist jumped up in mid air, fueled by the power of knowing what
will soon happen, and cackled that infamous laugh of his, raven hair
perched on his head shuddering like a silken mop.
Senna Oxford shoes clomping on the midnight obsidian flooring announced
Astronominov’s approach to the exit, poised and ready to strike like a
calvary.
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Knowing that he would not find a way into his nemsis’ house without leaving
a trace on any macromolecular level, and also due to the result of a once
owned molecular transportation device that was demolished in the gavotting
of a golden-haired goddess, he would have to pick the locks of the doors
and play a role as Dexter’s best friend if caught by the rival’s parents,
and pray that the older boy is emmerced in a hard days sleep.
Lanky frame shuffling up the concrete sidewalk, Mandark pulled a sleek
bobby pin from his hair and gently prodded the keyhole, hoping to turn some
gears to pop the lock to open the front door of the lion’s den.
A click, then success as the wooden door went ajar, and silently the mad
scientist slithered in with the shadows.
It was how he expected Dexter’s house would look: clean, retro, and adorned
with family photos. It was the typical surburbian house, stereotyped right
down to the infamous pink carpeting and brick fireplace.
Black horn-rimmed glasses gazed at the photos, studying every detail like
an observant tourist.
Mandark gently took the gilded gold frame of the family photo and studied
the picture.
It was an image of Dexter,his beloved sister, and his parents.
While he did not care for the parental units, his eyes studied his rival,
noting that the boy had some Irish and English in his background with his
firery red curls,cherub like-face, pallid skin tone, and emerald doe-eyes.
He couldn’t help but to feel a little awe at this ingenious rival.
But eyes didn’t lay to rest on his rival, oh no, he was mainly drooling
over the sister.
Blue eyes, golden hair, fair skin and a buxom tan. To Mandark, she looked
like a Norse Goddess.
“Oh Dee Dee! When will you ever learn that my love for you is greater than
inertia itself?”
He snapped out of his amourous daze, replaced the photo, and trudged along
towards his destination.
Gently as his shoes pattered along the padded carpet up the stairs, he was
trying his hardest not to draw attention to the hallway, and breathed a
sigh of relief as he reached the top, thanking God that there were no
squeeking floorboards to give away his position.
He approached the threshold of Dexter’s room and gently turned the doorknob
as the door opened gently with a click. His ears perked up at a delightful
sound he was hoping for: snoring.
At this time, Astronominov’s heart was racing, and his mind flew with a
million thoughts a second.
“God, I hope he doesn’t decide to wake up.”
“What will I do if he does and sees me?”
“Smug bastard.”
“Ha ha! Now I shall triumph.”
“Gotta find the laboratory.”
“Hope his parents don’t decide to walk in.”
“Hope Dee Dee doesn’t disturb him.”
“Ahhhhh, Dee Dee, my one true love!”
Pictures of famous scientists adorned the walls like a personal shrine,
while the desk was cluttered with pencils, pens, and a protractor.
Rejected quantum theories and mathematical problems that were scrawled upon
the paper, now lie crumpled upon the floor in heaps at the foot of the
chair. Above the desk was a large poster of the Periodic Table, and beside
it was a poster of Action Hank, which reminded the intruder of the
childlike humbleness that Dexter had despite being obsessed with the
advanced ingenuity he was blessed with.
A small vivarium sat upon a small end table, providing a faux home for the
bearded dragons that reside inside. Next to it were food items and a
misting bottle. The lizards’ heads perked up and looked at Mandark
curiously, as he was a new element in their enviroment.
Then on the other side of the room, was a bed covered with a bedsheet that
was adorned with psychedellic flowers – no doubt a sheet borrowed from Dee
Dee’s room – and upon it was the young boy himself still dressed in his
bleached white lab coat –glasses, purple electrical gloves and Beatle
boots removed, deep in sleep.
He was taking an infamous power nap to break from all of the equasions and
mechanical work the day had sapped from him. Right now as the younger boy
loomed over him like a vulture, he could see that Dexter was curled in the
faetal position, and his eyes were moving behing the eyelids, a sign of
rapid eye movement, and a dreamlike trance.
He mused about what Dexter’s dream was, then shoved it out of his head in
order not to get sidetracked from his purpose of why he was here in the
first place.
Then he found the threshold of the older rival’s lab, right behind the
bookcase, as he knew when Dexter brought him over in order to gloat about
how superior his intelligence was, then in a heartbeat, resided to destroy
the competition. Yes, it was time for Dexter to get a taste of his own foul
doing.
Gently Mandark lifted the sliding bookcase up until it locked, then crawed
under it. “Why should Dexter have maximum security when Mandark has no lab
or any way to strike back,” Astronominov bitterly thought. He gently
lowered the bookcase not to wake the smug rival, and not to alert him that
someone was in his laboratory.
He felt a bitter awe at the laboratory that surrounded him.
Laminated cobalt blue tiles reached out for miles like a neverending road
at the feet of Mandark, while various wires draped between tall machinery
above his head like synthetic vines. There was a deep humming from the
nuclear reactors and the generators like a calm mantra, and various
computers beeped at intervals spouting morse code. An aroma of caustic
chemicals, bleach, and polymers filled the sector like a scientific
incense.
As he took his first step on the waxed floor, the sole of his Oxford shoe
resonated a dull thud that echoed throughout the area that made him cringe
at first, fearing security robots may flock to him, then seeing no threat,
he continued his mission for the search for the main unit.
Of course, the main computer was not hard to find, and its’ access was
completely unsecure, as Dexter had disactivated the alarms long ago in
order to return to his work without going through the tedious task of
rebooting and loging in after the long sleep.
Mandark noticed that the grey seat cusion was still warm, and that his
rival must of just left it not too long ago. Sitting with the pang of fear
at his neck, he moved on to search for the main connection program, typing
in binary code and looking over his shoulder every twenty seconds to find
only the emptiness of cold steel walls to stare back.
“Successor! You have made it too easy for the mighty Mandark! Now it is
time to bow to your superiour, you mangy inferiour,” Mandark cackled,
reaching his destination. A large blueprint of the sectors’ electrical
programming appeared, and a large button flashed at the bottom announcing
“UPLOAD FASTER PROG.?”
“Let’s see what this baby can do!”
With a click, he inserted the floppy, and clicked on YES, unleashing a wave
of disablement upon his rival’s work. However, the upload was slow, so
Mandark became nosy and rummaged in one of the drawers beside the computer,
looking for anything top secret or something to past the time.
Sleek tanned hands pulled a well-worn diary from under the manila folders,
possibly to keep it hidden from prying blue eyes of a certain girl with a
passion for destruction.
On the front it just planly stated in permanent marker : DEXTER’S LOG.
It had no indication of what it really contained.
Mandark sneered and snorted in disgust, then flipped it open to see if he
could find anything in there that he could use to humiliate the small
rival. He began reading from a couple of months ago.
DEXTER’S LOG #239: 7/10/ 98
I have just met a curious young boy….well, he CLAIMS to BE a boy, and
said that his name was Susan.
I dunno why anyone in their right mind would name their boy Susan, or for
that matter, I feel sorry for the kid myself. Anyways, Susan was much
taller than me, and had long raven hair, seemed like he was foreign by the
way he acted. I cannot believe the getup that kid was dressed in, seeing it
looked like something my stupid sister would wear! However this “boy”
seemed quite interested in my Exo-6000 robot, and science altogether, but
does not know the value of chrome. I had to clean fingerprints off of my
robot’s leg all day from that stupid kid! Afterwards when I told that kid
to scram, I found out that the damn robot still had some bugs in it’s hard
drive. Oh well, I turned it into scrap metal for something more useful:
sheeting to cover my newer and greater Exo-7000. It too was a piece of
junk. I guess life throws a wild card your way sometimes. Anyways, I cannot
help but to wonder about that Susan. He seems like a disturbed little boy.
I cannot wait for school to start in two weeks!
Mandark, angered, decided to flip through the log to see what other nasty
tidbits Dexter had to say about him.
DEXTER’S LOG #256: 7/24/98
I thought today would of went smoothly, seeing it was the first day of a
fresh beginning at school, but there was a foul, odious new kid at school.
His name is Mandark Astronominov, and what a furious hellbeast he is,
trying to ursurp my place as chief scientist and intellect at the only
place that I truly feel safe in (par from the Lab.) He told me we wanted to
see my secret laboratory, and I indeed showed him, in order to–dare I say
it– have him take me back to his laboratory which was greater in size and
scientific superiority, and forced me to shut down mine. I guess it is what
Darwin implied: Survival of the fittest.
Right now I hate every inch of that cursed Astronominov boy, and his D.N.A.
May he never be a scientist again!
Seeing this only enriched the hatred in his veins for Dexter as he threw
the book down on the counter. Hoping seriously for the end of a slow
downloading process, he decided he should look around to take his mind off
the verbal assalt from the diary.
“Hun, he likes the same music as me,” Mandark croaked out as he saw a small
CD rack on the counter.
It was loaded with musical selections that even Mandark enjoyed which made
him feel not so different from this rival. Albums of the Beatles, Rolling
Stones, the Who, Pink Floyd, Elton John, David Bowie, and Jimi Hendrix
lined the racks with other CDs such as orchestrated classics from Mozart,
Bach, and Chopin; CDs which made him and his rival very different in their
tastes.
Out of curiousity and prolonged bordom, he picked the abused diary up and
flipped to a page past the latter one which disgusted him.
DEXTER’S LOG # 306: 9/25/98
Ah, what a fine day for Science!
Mr. Lewinski paired me up with a lab partner, of all, Mandark. It was a lab
dealing with finding out the molarity of elements ( Eg. Carbon, Zinc,
Potassium, and Oxygen) after they are exposed to flame and sub-zero
temperatures. However, I might add, the thought of chemical equasions and
molarity was not the only thing that made me feel giddy. I felt very
strange when I found out that my lab partner was going to be Mandark….I
felt a giddy awe. My stomach felt twisted, and my palms were sweating. I
know that he had a cheap laugh off of my dazed stupour when he asked for a
beaker, and got a half-assed reply. I have no idea what I said, but
Astronominov found it to be quite a riot. May I suggest,that with my study
on the conditions , that it was…..love? I love my nemsis? I,Dexter
McPhearson, had fallen in love with the strangely nerdish Mandark
Astronominov? Why is this? This is quite perplexing. I hope Mandark never
finds out of this hormonal response. That is why I am keeping this a
secret. I fear of what he would say if he found out of this.
BTW, Dalton and Rutherford were so happy today! They loved that new log I
put in their cage!
Blank.
That’s all Mandark could think of after reading.
He was quite startled of Dexter’s passage.
Curious beyond the point of no return, brown eyes were fixed on the pages
which contained the secret life of a hated rival, and abandoned the once
important download screen. He continued on with a passage from a month
afterwards.
DEXTER’S LOG #328: 9/17/98
Ah, what a fine day for Science!
Behold the beauty radiating from my newfound discovery, a new element!
It is a synthetic element consisting of an atomic mass of 1.5679. It
contains two valence electrons, and is a highly unstable radioactive solid.
It is located on the Periodic Table (at least now) under the atomic number
125, atomic symbol: Mk. I shall call this element Mandarkium–not only
because I have named an element after myself, but also as a debt for being
an ass to a fellow scientist. I would love to entreat this element to him,
but I cannot bear the scathing comments from my love. Perhaps I shall give
it to him as a Christmas present, (providing it is in a lead box and
directed to his personal mail.)
Sure I hated the competition, and am somewhat glad that his lab is out of
the way, but I treated my only true friend like a jerk. This is for
you…..my love, dearest Mandark.
Anyways, Dee Dee broke into the lab, (does the girl not know how to read?)
just to annoy me as her daily routine. It never fails to amaze me that we
are related. Today she capsized one of my embryonic chambers with a baby
Dilophosaur inside, and spilled amneotic fluid all over my floor and lab
coat. Then she started “dancing”, and proceeded to rip out cords to use as
faux ribbons in her stupid imaginary play.
Finally, I kicked her out, but not before she pressed a button. That button
happened to be connected to an untested electronic grid that almost zapped
me with 5,000 volts, had I not been wearing my electrical gloves. That
ditzy girl knows how to kill someone. Mom should consider to put her up for
adoption…..really.
Again and again, he noticed that his name was mentioned almost in every
entry.
Dexter was crazy over him.
Upon flipping through the pages, a small newspaper clipping fell out, and
knowing it had to do with something about him, he proceeded to scan for
information.
LOCAL CALIFORNIAN BOY WINS NATIONAL CHESS CONTEST
Mandark Astronominov,age 8, shown here won the very complex battle for
wits in the National Chess Championship in Burbank today against five time
champion Dexter McPhearson.
Mandark who was born in Bombay, India, was a first time contestant this
year, and is a local at Huber Elementary as one of the top honor roll
students in this state, and is one of the ten best of this country.
Dexter McPhearson, age 9, is also one of the top honor roll students at
Huber Elementary, and also in the top ten of this country.
Mandark and Dexter will vie for the championship next year.
Around Mandark’s picture was a heart drawn in with a pink highlighter.
Placing the clipping back into the page where its’ home was for quite some
time to ward off any trail of inconspicuous rummaging, Mandark decided to
read the last entry in the diary.
DEXTER’S LOG #488: 2/13/99
Ah, what a fine day for Science!
Yes, I am quite aware that tomorrow is Valentines day, but one of my
intelligence is not interested in cards, flowers, and chalky candy with
romantic sayings upon them. After years of being ignored and hated by the
popular pupils in my school, I am indeed quite numb to the loneliness that
enshrouds us “nerds” and smart folk on this day. Every year as a ritual as
a break from our scholarly learnings, we make faux mailboxes out of
cardboard and coloured construction paper and tape them to our desks to
recieve our cards in the next day. After many years, I have only recieved
cards from Douglas as a token of friendship, and from children whose
parents force them to give cards to everybody in order to make them feel
like they are not left out. One year I had recieved one from Dee Dee as a
joke. Yes, I give out plenty of cards to everyone, wishing for a response,
but nothing…..nothing at all. None of them mean anything to me…they
don’t mean anything to the sender. This year I wish that Mandark would drop
me a card, but knowing him, it will not be heartfelt due to my cockiness. I
shall send him some flowers and a card, but I cannot bear to sign my name
upon it due to embarassment. I guess I will forge my sister’s signature on
it just like the Christmas and birthday cards of last year. My sister will
recieve the cards that I dearly wish were addressed to me, and Mandark will
once again recieve mine that he truly believes is my sister’s romantic
thoughts of him. Oh Mandark, you are truly naive when it comes to me.
For tomorrow, I shall weep silently inside when the trading begins in
class, knowing that my true interest is only next to me, but does not know
that true love is only a desk away.
Feeling like a rat, now he truly knew part of the monomaniac that grew in
Dexter, and the feelings for him instead of believing what he hyped over
the destruction of his lab months ago.
That was in the past, and labs can get rebuilt.
This friendship is now, and if destructed, can never be renewed.
Aborting the download which was a minute away from it’s full launch, he
pulled the red floppy out and pocketed it, saving it for a real crisis, and
returned the computer’s program just like he found it before he decided to
reek havoc upon it.
Book closed, the younger boy returned it to it’s secret home nestled below
the manila folders at the bottom of the drawer, closed it, sat up, and
gazed at awe at the laboratory that surrounded him like a palace.
“This is for you…..” he mouthed repeating what he read on one of the
pages in the log.
Silently as he came in, he closed the sliding door behind the bookcase, and
noticed that Dexter was in his deep slumber, possibly dreaming about him
besides calculus, or quantum theories.
The small slightly plump boy curled up amongst himself, and reminded the
taller male of a sleeping cat.
After watching for a while, he decided to leave and as stealthily he
intruded in Dexter’s home, he left without a trace, already down the block
halfway near his home, thinking about how many valentine cards and flowers
he should surprise his rival with tomorrow to make up for the negative
actions he thrust upon him for the whole school year (real signature
incuded.)…….
……and of course, one for Dee Dee.