A.N. I've decided I have to many disjointed Megamind fanfictions on my Google Drive, which I've been too afraid to post. So now I'm posting them. Many of them are just moments of a bigger plot, written here without context, or they're one-shots that didn't seem finished enough to post to my other collection. I'll try to edit them a little before I post them, but some of them even end mid-sentence.

My hope with this is that one of you will see a connection or an idea here that I didn't, and you can come up with endings, or even help inspire me to write something actually cohesive from start to finish. Feel free to adopt any ideas, but please let me know just so that I can see what you do with it.

This one is called Thespianism written October 26, 2014. Yeah, some of these are pretty old.

"To be, or not to be-that is the question:

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune

or to take arms against a sea of troubles

and, by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep-no more-

and by a sleep to say we end the heartache,

and the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to-"

"What," said Minion from his globe, which Megamind held in one hand.

"He's wondering if he should suffer through life, fight through life, or just die," explained Megamind, still wrapped up in the emotion of his monologue.

"You mean Hamlet's wondering that?"

"Uh huh."

"What's he saying about shocks? I thought they didn't have electricity."

Megamind was about to explain, but the tell-tale jingling of keys down the hall suggested someone was walking nearby. He wasn't really worried about getting caught since he and Minion were abiding by all the rules, but he'd rather no one paid attention to them; it was hard to find privacy in this situation, and he didn't want an audience.

They waited silently for the guard to go by. Megamind had the whole monologue memorized and was ready to steam through it, but he wanted Minion's critique, and he didn't imagine Minion had that type of attention span. He was already starting to swim around in bored little circles.

"So how was the first part?"

"Good, I guess," tittered Minion.

"You guess? How was I?"

"Good. You've got the sad eyebrows. But the voice is weird. Like, really dramatic. No one really talks like that."

"To be fair, I don't think anyone would say any of these things out loud," reasoned Megamind, setting Minion down on the bed. His arm was getting tired and Minion didn't make that great a skull anyway.

"You should do a different one. I like the one with the rose."

"I can't do Juliet's monologue! She's a girl!"

"You said that Shakespeare made boys be girls..." Minion muttered.

All around them were books and video cassettes. Flash cards, drawings, and posters that Megamind had procrastinated in hanging, and were now so beat up and dirty that they were not worth hanging anyway. He wasn't allowed to have a bike, but he had engineered a pair of rollerskates, which didn't seem to bother the warden as long as they didn't cause trouble. There were two decks of cards, one of which was legitimate, and the other which he had rigged. He kept the resulting money wrapped up tightly and hidden in his mattress. He also had some Monopoly money, which he used with Minion as a learning tool, since he seemed to learn at a much slower pace.

Sometimes it was hard to be patient with Minion, but he secretly enjoyed being depended on a little. Now that he had grown up some, and decided that he was gonna be a bad guy, he was more in control of his life. And he didn't have to cry to Minion and beg for a band-aid for his confidence. Now he could actually return the favor.

He actually had a drive now. A goal. He was destined to be a super villain.

Unfortunately if you fight brain directly with brawn, you end up with smashed brain. So he was kinda working his way up to that point.

"Am I eloquent enough, though?" He asked Minion. For reasons entirely un-confidence related. "Do I look like I know what I'm doing?"

"Yeah, totally."

"Great, okay. That's important. Gotta be taken seriously, right?"

"Yes sir!"


Megamind sighed and looked down at the papers spread across his bed. He wanted to be a super villain, and here he was studying how to be an actor.

He'd read books, watched documentaries and tutorials. Practice. Did some vocal exercises when no one was around. Documenting faces and poses in the mirror. The villain in most plays was, often intentionally, the most interesting character to appear on the stage. He wanted to be that guy. He wanted people to notice him, notice his brilliance, admire and fear him. He was getting good at it.

People around him noticed too. Guards didn't talk down to him as much anymore, and prisoners who used to think he was just a cute kid, were starting to include him in the network. He had better posture, more confident movements. His voice, though still the light voice of a little boy, was stronger, with more inflection and clearer consonants.

He was picking up tricks from his uncles, bartering for books and tools and materials, picking locks, sneaking into where he wasn't supposed to be. The risk was higher, but the rewards were greater. Since he had been removed from school, he had developed an ear for news and rumors, for secrets and lies, and for opportunities, just like any other urban lowlife. Except he was smart about it. He knew who to tell what, when and how, and how to twist it in his favor.

The best part was, the warden didn't even know.

During school Megamind, of course, had been deemed (rightly) a bad boy, but the warden always seemed to understand that a lot of it was unjustified baloney.

When Megamind had actually unleashed his Blue Bomb, it was such an unexpected and extreme measure to the warden, that the man had figured, hey, ya know, maybe the kid actually was being bullied, and something drove him to this. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, Warden had only sentenced him to two days in solitary before he went back to normal life. Two days well spent dreaming.

Megamind's education was continued in prison, through books and videos, and he still kept his cell, still had Minion, was still allowed to go outside sometimes. He was just a perfect little angel. An evil perfect little angel. Muahahahaha.

And Minion, sweet Minion, was just so happy to see him having fun that he went along with everything. He probably didn't even realize what was going on. Megamind had roped him into learning morse code, and math, and engineering. Reading came slow, but he was progressing. If Megamind had a problem with speaking words the way they were written, Minion had the opposite problem. But spelling really didn't matter as long as Megamind could read it.

It was symbols that troubled him, Megamind hypothesized. Perhaps the part of his fishy brain that processed symbols was not as advanced as a human's. Numbers and letters were mostly indifferent scribbles to him. but he understood the concepts and sounds perfectly. Morse code helped. He really was quite brilliant. And he had an amazing ability to differentiate scents and tastes and color. He could even apparently see a few more colors than Megamind could.

They had discussed another robot body for him, one which he could control himself, from inside his head. But that would require an implant, which terrified both of them. Megamind studied biology and medicine, and thought the science through; they knew the project hung ominously, yet tantalizingly, in the future.

Megamind picked Minion back up off the bed, along with a few books and flashcards, and peered out of his cell. He wasn't technically a lawful prisoner, so he didn't have to stay in his cell or make license plates or stuff like that, but he didn't really have the run of the place either. He was just kind of expected to follow everybody else. There were a ton of rules, and every time he walked into a different hallway there'd be a guard to ask where he was going and why. Recently now more than ever, since he had been acting differently.

All the prisoners that would usually be here were in the courtyard at the moment, so he would be able to hear any jingling keys or heavy footsteps a while off.

He went down the hallway, dodging cameras and officers. He wasn't really doing anything wrong. He just didn't want attention at the moment.

The exercise room was much smaller than it ought to be; with treadmills and bow flexes shoved much too close together. There was a bench press too, but Minion had advised against using it, and for good reason. There were lockers by the door, that smelled like Febreze. Thank goodness for Uncle Charlie and his thing with Febreze.

Megamind wasn't really old enough to need deodorant, but he used some anyway. He took off his shirt too, since that's what everyone else did. Even though if was chilly in here.

He set Minion on the bench press and opened a book to the requested page for him. The text was huge, with accompanying pictures. Minion had to translate the letters from symbols, to morse code, and then back into English, reading very slowly, occasionally clicking his teeth to himself.

Megamind adjusted the bow flex for himself, and began to pull on the weights. He wasn't getting big, but he was getting tough And he had pretty good abs for a eight year old, if he did say so himself. But he lacked endurance. That was something he would have to work on.

"Are you gonna have a super villain costume?" asked Minion, without looking away from his book.

"I guess."

"With a cape?"

That idea immediately appealed to him. He continued to repeatedly pull against the bow flex as he glanced back at Minion. "Yeah!"

"Can I design it, sir?" Minion asked excitedly.

"But you can't draw anything."

Minion puffed out his cheeks in thought, mouth pulled into a tight frown. "But I already know what it should look likeā€¦" He glanced around and looked back at his book.