I think I want a hideous army --
a hideous army of my very own.
To command.
Yeah.
I want legions of big, gray,
plague rats.
My unholy Army of the Night...
I'd have this whistle,
and when I felt,
I don't know,
evil,
I'd blow it.
Blowing a whistle, perhaps,
seems not to be the most terrible
thing to do,
but if I did have
my hideous army,
my unholy army,
my beautiful, red-eyed,
man-eating,
plague rat army,
I would, like any patient and loving master,
train them.
Yeah.
Obviously, first of all,
I'd simply have to house-train them
for thousands of man-eating plague rats
can, and I do admit,
make a frightful mess of the carpet.
Rats can be wonderfully responsive and obedient pets,
the most affectionate of the rodent genus, don't you know?
If fed properly.
But where was I? I do have the unfortunate tendency to ramble
when I turn to evil....
this is why bad guys always hire bumbling, stupid henchmen,
for no one else would have the necessary attention span.

Oh, there I go again...
...

After I'd housebroken my pets,
I would lovingly train them to
come,
out of the woods, the woodwork,
and
the sewers, defiled tombs,
...
you know,
rat places,
whenever they heard the whistle I blew...
come, in hordes and droves and
vast rat numbers
unholy evil plague-rat legions,
come with the love and devotion
that only well-fed masses of killing vermin
gray fur matted with filth and blood,
sharp teeth ever gnawing at things,
long rope-like tails,
can ever properly express.
Yeah.
Come right to my house,
or the hilltop
or the churchyard
or the bus stop...
maybe the mall...
-- wherever I happened to be at.
Trained to the beckon of a whistle only they could hear.
You know, and then I would just point,
or something,
in the general direction of mayhem,
and my rats (ready to obey my silliest whim -- such is love) would go
as I directed,
gnawing chewing swarming biting maiming destroying killing eating
anything
that they,
you know,
just chanced upon.
Or I could follow, like a proud general,
guiding the direct assault of Parliament,
or a bank,
even a convenience store,
if we were running low on milk.
I think mostly I just resent suburbs,
and rats,
well,
add a bit of, ummm...
spice,
to the monotony.
We'd make a name for ourselves,
not for monetary gain, of course,
it would somehow seem, I don't know,
wrong,
to make profit in taking over the world...
we'd just want people to know our names --
Rob and his Unholy Army of The Night.
Merely for the sake of
notoriety,
you see.
I guess in the end it all just comes down to
world domination,
not such a bad goal really. I bet my family would be really
proud of me,
and I'm sure they'd even survive.
After we'd taken over, my rats and I
would just kind of
lay low,
not really wanting all the paperwork and responsibility needed to
rule the world,
only the fame and unquestioning loyalty...
and after that, we'd be as happy as can be,
ruling the world, masters of fear, and loving each other
as best as only a Kind Yet Evil Lord and his well-fed,
plum tuckered out,
rats can.