“That's not the worst booze I've ever drunk, but I'll say it is to try to get you to give me another free drink.”
Evil Editor looked at the waiter. Surely a restaurant this expensive would provide better fare for the price he would have to pay if it wasn't all complimentary.
“I'm sorry,” said the waiter, “the truth serum I put in the drink spoils the taste.”
“To what end?” asked Evil Editor, dipping into the Boston cream pie.
“So you will tell me exactly what I need to know to blackmail you. N'est ce' pas?”
“You wouldn't happen to have read a book, How to Speak Atrocious French with a Bad Accent?”
“No, I just use some French to try to keep people from thinking I grew up in a trailer park.”
Confusion crossed the waiter's face, but he recovered.
“What is the darkest secret you have, the one you will pay dearly so that I won't reveal it?” he asked.
“I'm a gay alien mutant from a a different time period of an alternate history of a parallel universe.” Evil Editor smiled as he spoke and uncorked another bottle of wine.
“Find out when you reveal it, because I'm giving you nothing. In fact, I want to know your real identity and your deepest secret.”
To his shock the waiter revealed everything.
“Excellent,” said Evil Editor. “So you know: I met genie who had one wish left. I wished anything someone wanted to do to harm me I could do to them with impunity. I am not Evil Editor, it is Evil Everybody Else. Now, go back to serving me free food, there's an attractive Minion who wants to strip and photograph me. Her figure and pet snake make her better suited for that.”
--D Jason Cooper