Here's a little something I published recently on McSweeney's Internet Tendency:
Ah! My arch-nemesis, finally we meet, after all these years. Are your shackles too tight? Keep in mind they have to be somewhat tight, so as not to defeat the purpose, but I don’t want them to be too tight. How do you like my underground cavern lair? Is it too dark? How do you like the blacklights?
I admit I would be lying if I said I am not happy to see you. It has been a pleasure doing combat with you all these many years, in our little game of cat and mouse, often aided by explosives, or flying machines, or houses of mirrors. You have been a most worthy foe. In some ways, I will regret destroying something so extraordinary. In some ways, I will really enjoy it. Killing you will be like destroying a beautiful butterfly. A beautiful butterfly who murdered my father and poured acid on my face.
You may laugh, but we are not so different, you and I. OK, actually, do not laugh. Let me continue, please. Stop it. Guard, show our friend what happens when we laugh too much.