(More) Walking in (and out of) Shadows

So, there seems to be a theme appearing lately..

Villains.. in shape.
Let me clarify before I get too far along (somewhere in the middle I completely lose you):

Villains come in all sorts of shapes.
Each has their own villainous shape.
Some are round (or doughy) and some are thin (or in need of a cheeseburger).  There are many shapes and sizes to villainy.  Something I thought didn't need improvement upon.

I forgot the adage: "There's always room for improvement."
Unless you find yourself on the Mr. CrowKnife/PlusInferno side of things, then there's not much room left.
"In your pants!"
(I have to stop watching Craig Ferguson or I swear an alligator from New Orleans is gonna show up to give my monologue.)

Health is an important issue to villainy (apparently) and they are having no qualms about showing it.
I, myself, have a morbid gaiety; it's true.  I joke about death and decay, rot and corruption, about all the creepy things and violent life-ending things that no one should joke about.
I can't help it.
It's a byproduct of my nature.

But this new trend of health-conscious villainy has me a bit worried.
'Challenges'? 'Walking'? Healthy and stronger villains?
My competition is getting more fierce.

Where once I would run a body into the ground, I find myself watching what I feed the host.
Where once I would slaughter bottles of rotgut, just to watch the life fade buzzily out of a Henchman's eyes as he clings to the broken mirror.. uh..
I find myself eager to join the fight.

Would cheating be encouraged?
What is to stop me from slapping a pedometer on a henchman and riding him until he drops, put it on another, and repeat until I'm back down to a slim 180.
I mean 180 Henchmen. Not pounds.

(Speaking of which, why the hell does everyone think I'm fat?!? Do I really appear obese?  Maybe 'thick'?  It's the suit.  It has to be.  I haven't been fat since the fourth grade and that was glandular. I swear.)

I have so many projects.
So many projects.
But.. I do walk.
A lot.

The Poke-walker idea isn't a bad idea at all.
I should invest in one.
It would make perfect sense too, since I've had a hero proclaim me a 'lame Pokemon villain'.
-I will address this later-  (Which we all know means a video is brewing. I CHOOSE YOU, FRANKLIN!)

Overlord. Malignance.
I accept.
Your days are numbered.
I was '6 by sun up'... once.
I can do it again.

And now for something completely different:

My first "patrol".
-------

Last night, I was circling the storage shed.
The one near the eight-foot perimeter fence.
I was searching for my lighter, a real nice Zippo-one that 22 got me for my Death Anniversary a few years back.. anyways.
As I was knocking over trashcans and tossing pallets aside (that's how I look for stuff), I heard something very familiar.
The sounds of a scuffle.
Which turned into an all-out-brawl.
Then, suddenly stopped.

There's a residence about 30 meters from the fencing (I have no idea who lives there; so many come and go), where I could see lights on inside.
What disturbed me most was the abruptness of the silence.
Boom, boom, boom.... nothing.
I stood there for about a minute.  Just listening.
Maybe they were dancing?
Someone stepped on a toe or sprained an ankle?
There is nothing like the dread of the unexpected or unknown.
A thousand thoughts rushed through my mind.
(I tend to dwell on negativity and morbidity, so I was thinking the WORST.)

Then.. it came to me.
WWPKD?
That's right.
What Would Poop Knife Do?
I had no idea.
lol
I barely know the guy.
But, I remembered his logs and leapt into action!
(If you haven't yet, go check out Evil Supreme Pizza! For all your deliciously evil cravings!)
I cautiously approached the residence (Franklin's secret passage = hole in fence) and knocked on the door.
When no one answered, I called the police.
I reported exactly what I had heard (try explaining why you were outside at 3 am and what you 'think' is going on without sounding ridiculous).
I guess that makes me a 'snitch', huh?
Hey, there could be dead people in there!
Maybe.
I guess I could have just 'phased' through the door and checked the place out..
But hey, I have manners.
Anyways.
In a few minutes (it's REALLY seedy here) the Po-Po showed up.

Turns out:
A man had decided that he wasn't going to let his girlfriend go out for her birthday.  He told her by punching her in the face, dragging her to a small room, and trying to choke her to death.
She said the knocking made him pause.
Yay!
After I gave my statement (again), I returned to the compound and had a meeting with 22.

Not sure where to go from here.
My patrol logs suck.

I should leave it to professionals.