'Twas an ill sirocco that blew him to the caravan, so they said. Afterwards.
The director grabbed Evil Editor as he stumbled out from between the wagons. "It's about time you got here. What's your name?"
"Evil. I'm the one who called about researching the Outer Mongolia antiquities collection for the author of--"
"Yeah, whatever. Look, Evie, I'm not asking for a Corps of Engineers specialist and I don't care what kind of clandestine organizations you normally work for. I just need an electrician," the director jabbed Evil's monogrammed tiepin, "and E. E. stands for electrical engineer."
"But I'm not--" Evil spotted the row of giant sock monkeys. "What the weredingo?"
"That's why you're here. Grim Carnage and his minions are the mascots for this here honeymoon adventure contest. They also babysit the contestants' children. Now get their eyes to glow or you'll be in a monkey suit watching brats." The director stomped off to yell at the cameramen.
Evil climbed a ladder to pull off the first monkey's head. He vaguely remembered editing a book on the process for building robots like these....
The resulting explosion destroyed the oasis.
--Faceless Minion (96)