Heroes Gallery

Here at Evil UnLtd, we are loath to devote any blogspace to heroes, but as it’s January 2016 we hereby make an exception and hand you over for a personal note from our scribe, Simon A Forward:

Way back when I first decided to donate royalties from the Evil UnLtd series of books to Cancer Research UK, it was intended as a temporary measure – a gesture, more than anything, something positive I might do in the face of losing first my Mum and subsequently certain other heroes of mine. My Mum’s picture is not in the above gallery but she is there in spirit. Or rather here.

Many of us are at an age where the loss of heroes will become an all too frequent experience. And it will hurt. We have to remind ourselves that these heroes lived – really lived – and then some, both in their lives and in our imaginations as they connected with us through their chosen art forms, whether they were crafting worlds, characters, stories or songs or any combination of all those.

Lis, Caroline, Mary, Iain (M), David, Alan. And Mum. Thank you.

You all rocked. You still do.

And the royalties from the Evil UnLtd books will continue to go to Cancer Research UK for the foreseeable future. Because aside from being the least I can do, it’s all I can do.

If Evil UnLtd books aren’t your cup of tea, please donate to Cancer Research. For your personal heroes.

 

SAF 2016

 

 

Pop A Cap In A Meerkat

Here at Evil UnLtd we have been receiving a lot of emails from people wanting to inflict grievous bodily harm on Meerkats. Apparently their decision, as a species, to head up a long-term advertising campaign on behalf of a comparison website has begun to grate on a few nerves.

While cruelty to meerkats, particularly annoyingly cute ones, is something we can heartily endorse, such activities are a very specific brand of evil and ours is a much broader bailiwick. The clue is in our name.

Evil. UnLtd.

UnLimited.

Simple. (Note. Singular, not plural. We are hard-pressed to think of any circumstance in which the word ‘simple’ would need to be pluralised.)

Meerkat. Sounds like ‘mere’. And there is nothing mere about us.

This, we hope, will go some way towards clearing up any potential confusion.

Those keen to indulge their anti-meerkat appetites further, visit popacapinameerkat.com.

Those interested in a wider spectrum of Evil choose Evil UnLtd.

Evil UnLtd books, including the latest Vol 4: Tempus Sinister, are available on Amazon.

All royalties go to Cancer Research UK.

SAF 2015

Proctor Who? Part Four

 

Who is the Proctor?

A question central to the latest Evil UnLtd volume.

The Proctor is a conundrum wrapped in an enema and – wait, either we’re getting déjà vu or we’re caught in a chronic hysteresis. We’ve been through all that before.

Today, we’ll be profiling another of the individuals who lays claim to the title of Proctor, in an eternal struggle between order and chaos.

The Fourth (?) Proctor

Exclusive Time/Space snippet:

Bibi broke from the path and barged through clumps of ornamental shrubbery. Where the plants resisted, she gave them a blast of her hairspray which doubled as an excellent defoliant.

She burst through and almost teetered into a pond. She veered left, hopscotching around its banks. Just as she reached the stone path, she hit a wall of sound. Or it hit her. Or both.

It was a horrible, grating sound like the braying of an asthmatic iron donkey with rusted lungs.

The sound gave birth to hazy blue light. The light sketched angles and lines in the air, tracing the outline of a box. Intersections glowed sapphire-bright before spilling their colour, flood-filling the surfaces with deep, metallic blue. The accompanying din terminated in a solid thunk, as though the donkey had keeled over and died, leaving only the solid confirmation that the object was indeed a box.

Beyond that, the unseen artist who had deposited this curio might as well have been snickering to himself and gleefully challenging, “Can you tell what it is yet?” Because Bibi still had no idea.

It boasted a chamfered lid like a toolbox. It even sported a carrying handle, although you would’ve had to be something of a giant to lift it given its coffinesque dimensions. Assuming it was as heavy as it looked. The thunk with which it had finally materialised could have been a sound effect, Bibi supposed. But it had sounded heavy as a falling star.

She looked at it, wondering what it would do next. Boxes tended not to do very much. Except contain stuff.

She glanced over her shoulder. On the far side of the pond, Mr Quiggs staggered after her, one hand still clasped over his eyes, the other waving wildly. He splashed blindly into the water, started wading across.

She should run.

But her legs wanted to stay rooted. As if her knees wanted to stick around and stare at the box. Despite her very human lack of eyes in either patella.

From out in the water, Mr Quiggs whined: “Please! Please, come back! I just wanted to talk!”

Bibi stared and stared at the box, willing it to do something. Anything. “Do something!” she urged it.

The box hummed.

A seam parted along its top. The lid opened like an oblong clamshell. Folding back to reveal an impossibly dark interior. And locking into place as a pair of tiered trays on either side.

In one of the trays lay a man.

Well, lay was too leisurely a word. He was squashed up in a cramped foetal position, the tray being nowhere near long enough to accommodate his tall, wiry frame. He wasted no time in leaping up and springing free from the box.

He aimed his head this way and that, his eyes darted everywhere – although hardly ever in the same direction as his head. He whipped out a very phallic silver tool, sized somewhere between pen and truncheon, tipped with a glowing purple knob. He thrust this bulbous end at Bibi.

What the hell? Two attackers now?

 

Watch this space for further profiles of this compelling character.

Alternatively, read Evil UnLtd Vol 4: Tempus Sinister.

Royalties from all Evil UnLtd books go to Cancer Research UK.

SAF

Proctor Who? Part Three

Who is the Proctor?

A question central to the latest Evil UnLtd volume.

The Proctor is a conundrum wrapped in an enema and – wait, either we’re getting déjà vu or we’re caught in a chronic hysteresis. We’ve been through all that before.

Today, we’ll be profiling one of the individuals who lays claim to the title of Proctor, cast in order of the garter.

The Third (?) Proctor

Exclusive Time/Space snippet:

Lisa McShane ran down the drab, gloomy corridor. Or up.

It felt like up, but most running did. She needed to cut down on the vino. On the other hand, she always needed a drink between adventures with the Proctor. And hey, as much as she had a hard time with the running, he had it worse.

He waddled at speed. Mind, he’d kill her with one of his withering glares if he whiffed her feeling sorry for him. He was giving her the hard stare right now, coming up yards behind her like a sore loser in a duck race on dry land. Of course, he was lumbered with luggage.

“I don’t know why you have to cart that thing round with you everywhere!”

The big blue Toolbox bashed against his little legs. In his other hand he wielded the Tool. “Yes you do! I might have to reach something!”

“Ditch it! You can stand on my shoulders.”

“Oh, can I really? How very BIG of you! Like a criminal on a down escalator.”

“You what?”

“Con descending.”

He was always throwing out lame puns just to annoy her. People who used humour as a defence mechanism forgot it wasn’t very effective against a punch.

“Oh, I get it. You’re insecure. Cos you’re short.”

“I’ll have you know I am very secure in my stature. It’s other people’s heights that make me nervous. I mean, they’re all so tall. They scare me.”

The Proctor fake-shuddered. For such a slow-poke, short-ass he always found time for mucking about while on the run from deadly threats.

Deadly threats like the machine of solid shadow and red-scratch eyeslit that trundled around the corner behind him.

“Proctor!”

He raised the Tool high, thumbed the controls. The Evil Robot’s micro-missiles and plasma fire bombarded a wall of hard air, metres aft of the Proctor’s heels. The tracked beast rolled forward, switching to some shrill sonic weapon that warped the force field like a glass wobble board.

Lisa ran on. The Proctor waddled faster.

“Corridors,” he quipped. “Don’t you just hate them.”

Lisa did. She’d lost count of the ones she’d run down. Or up. The up ones were the worst. Hence her huge disappointment at arriving on the rare and strange hyperstitial world of Hyperconda to discover more bloody corridors. “These corridors aren’t actually here. The planet occupies a dimension quite beyond the comprehension of us mere three-dimensional types,” the Proctor had explained. “The Hypercondans constructed a visual interpretation matrix to accommodate visitors in a reality that would make sense to the ordinary visual cortex.” To which Lisa had nodded dumbly and felt sorry for the Proctor: he only occupied a third dimension to about half the extent most people did.

Lisa hurled herself around the end of the passage, glued her back to the wall. The Proctor ducked in beside her. The robot tossed a plasma bolt the size of a caber in their direction. The Proctor swung the Toolbox up like a shield. The box flew from his hand, clattered across the floor. The Proctor blew at lightly cooked fingers.

The box was undamaged. Shame, because it could’ve used a few holes in its sides for extra leg room. And arm room. And bust room.

The Proctor snuck peeks around the corner and twiddled with his Tool. “I think we’ve angered it sufficiently.”

“You think?!”

 

Watch this space for further profiles of this compelling character.

Alternatively, read Evil UnLtd Vol 4: Tempus Sinister.

Royalties for all Evil UnLtd books go to Cancer Research UK.

SAF 2015

Who Is The Proctor?

Who is the Proctor?

A question central to the latest volume in the Evil UnLtd series.

The Proctor is a conundrum wrapped in an enigma and possibly wearing a different face every time you meet him. He travels the space-time continuum in a strange blue box, brandishes his Tool and frequently asks young ladies to come with him.

It’s a wonder he’s not been arrested.

But condundrums wrapped in enigmas who pick up young ladies are open to misinterpretation and hopefully Tempus Sinister will shed further light on this mysterious fellow.

One thing is for certain: he is an enemy of Evil UnLtd.

And any resemblance between him and –

Two. Two things are for certain.

One: he is an enemy of Evil UnLtd.

Two: any resemblance between him and any persons, living or fictional, travelling space and time in a blue box is purely coincidental.

Watch this space for further profiles of this compelling character.

Alternatively, read Evil UnLtd Vol 4: Tempus Sinister.

Available now for Amazon Kindle. All royalties for Evil UnLtd books go to Cancer Research UK.

SAF 2015

Towel Day Plus One

E4. Now showing on Towel Day Plus One.

 

There comes a time in every book’s life when it must fly the nest and venture forth into the world wide web. That time for Evil UnLtd Vol 4: Tempus Sinister is now.

Actually, that time was yesterday. But in keeping with its time travel theme, not merely content to be long overdue, it showed up another day late.

We at Galaxy Six would like to blame the global economic crash and Saturn’s retrograde motion through the House of Capricorn and Simon Pegg.

(Ha, if he thinks superhero movies are cultural genocide, wait till he gets a load of Evil UnLtd.)

Also, some stories just take their own sweet time.

Time, appropriately enough, is the enemy in this one. Or the enema, we can’t quite remember. But the enema of my enemy is my friend, so it makes little difference in the end. Although some would argue that the end is exactly where an enema makes the most difference.

But we digress.

This volume concerns itself principally with Time. Capital T.

And especially Professor Doomladen’s long-cherished ambitions of Chronocide.

And if that’s not enough to whet your appetite, we should point out that there’s more to it than that. So much more that this series is in danger of needing a Previously On… Luckily, all three preceding volumes are still available so that’s covered.

At this stage we can’t really tell you much more about Evil 4. We don’t want to spoil it for our army of fans. So – until next time – just like we do for Game Of Thrones, we will confine ourselves to spoiler-free tweets like:

OMG!!!!! #Evil4

And

Oh wow! I can’t believe they did that to [INSERT CHARACTER NAME HERE] #Evil4

Evil UnLtd

They’re back and it’s about bloody Time.

Available now on Kindle at Amazon UK and Amazon US.

Other ebook formats and paperback edition to follow.

(100% of royalties for all books in the Evil UnLtd series continue to go to Cancer Research UK.)

SAF

Watch this space for more Evil news, extras

They’re Back And It’s About Bloody Time!

Ladies, gentlemen and bowls of petunias, synchronise your swatches.

Towel Day (May 25th) is almost upon us again.

In honour of the occasion we will be releasing the latest Evil book. In honour of the book involving an element of time travel, we are releasing it later than originally planned.

Here, to whet your readerly appetites is the cover blurb:

The Farce Of The Dark Side.

Villains are the new Heroes in this epic Sci-Fi series.

Chronocide.

A long-cherished ambition for Professor Doomladen. Time is relative and in his estimation she’s a crabby, demanding old aunt, past overdue for bumping off.

Dexter Snide has murderous intentions towards other targets – Six and the PHUX Corporation who have stolen his TV station and his Tree, obliging Evil UnLtd to slum it in a derelict girls’ school in the branches of a mere Sapling attached to the hull of a Myxomatosan Death Warren.

In an imperfect present, one means of getting Evil’s future back on track is to turn back the clock. Dexter’s uber-devious scheme provides a tempting opportunity for Doomladen to achieve his ultimate goal. To kill Time.

But such temporal tampering is a sure way to attract the attentions of new enemies. Like a certain mysterious traveller in a blue box…

Worse, Time is a bitch. Mess with her and she messes back.

Watch this space for further announcements.

(WARNING: Actual book may contain spoilers.)

SAF 2015

Note: 100% of royalties from all Evil UnLtd sales continue to go to Cancer Research UK.

Of Time And Towels

Tick tock.

Happy Towel Day! And here’s to the late, great Douglas Adams.

Today struck us as a timely time to unveil the cover of the next volume in our Evil UnLtd series.

Evil UnLtd Vol 4: Tempus Sinister will, barring any chronic hystereses, be available in [Edit!] May 2015.

Lord, it’s about Time.

SAF 2014

Note: 100% of royalties from all Evil UnLtd sales will continue to go to Cancer Research UK, at least for one more year.

Once Up In A Statue’s Nostril

The Occasionally Traditional Evil UnLtd Christmas Carol

 

This year, we present a (rough) synopsis of Evil UnLtd Vol 1 in carol form. Enjoy!

Mwahahahahappy Christmas!

 

 

 

Once up in a statue’s nostril

Dexter hatched his latest plot

In walked action hero Stengun

Left him hanging like some snot

Dexter had his brightest notion

As he felt a downward motion

 

*

A band of villains he assembled

The meanest in the universe

They all met up in a restaurant

None of them paid for desserts

Dexter, Ferret, Mr Knucks

What a hardened bunch of – crooks

 

*

Not forgetting Evil Robot

Hatchling and Professor Doom

On a bank job they meet Tanith

Then their best laid plans go BOOM!

They’d gladly return their hostage

If they could afford the postage

 

 

 

Merry Christmas to one and all! 100% Royalties for all Evil UnLtd books go to Cancer Research UK

SAF 2013

Make Your Own Hatchling!

The Hatchling is perhaps the shyest member of Evil UnLtd, only venturing outside his egg in times of direst need. But even inside his shell, he knows he has fans and so has given us permission to construct an idol in his image – out of marzipan. It was a momentous undertaking, fraught with challenges and difficulties, but one filled with celebration at every turn as the edifice took shape – much like the raising of the Amish barn in Witness.

For those of you who wish to experience this joy of creation, we have documented the process here. Enjoy!

Warning: this does involve sharp instruments and possibly dangerous spiking of blood sugar levels, so please ask a grown-up to assist.

You Will Need:

1. One copy of Evil UnLtd: The Root Of All Evil available for Kindle from Amazon.Co.Uk and Amazon.Com. If you don’t have a Kindle, don’t worry, you can download the Kindle software for FREE to enjoy the book on your PC, Mac, iPhone, iPad, Blackberry, Android, Chip Butty, Lava Lamp or blow-up doll.

2. Half a block of marzipan. You can use the white marzipan, but the yellow will save you some time in the painting stage.

3. Food colouring. Red and Yellow.

4. Cake decorating pen. Black.

5. Flaked almonds.

6. Knife.

7. Preparation board.

8. A strong source of Brownian motion, like a hot cup of tea, for example.

8. Somewhere else to put the cats. Note, it is possible to do without this, but we strongly recommend it, having our efforts thwarted on several occasions by an intruding feline muzzle or the swipe of a paw.

Step One

Cut your marzipan into several smaller blocks, one each for Body, Legs, Arms, Head, Tail. You’ll want the Body to be nice and large, so use about half of your marzipan on that, and divide up the rest proportionately, roughly equivalent to the sizes shown in the photo.

Step Two

Mould the different blocks into their relevant shapes. The Body should be nice and round. (Some would say ‘fat’, but on the off-chance the Hatchling is sensitive about his weight, we elect to be more complimentary.) The Legs – divide the block into two for these (the Hatchling is not deficient in the leg department) – should be chunky and somewhat elephantine. The Tail should be good and thick and long, tapering to one end. The Arms – and again the block should be divided into two equal portions – should be substantial too and of course when shaping the digits, take care when placing the thumbs that they will reflect the appropriate right-left configurations. The Head should be small and slightly flattened, tapering to a muzzle but still substantial enough to avoid actual cuteness.

See the photo for a guide.

Step Three

Piecing the Hatchling together. This is the scary Frankenstein part, so it’s okay to be a little nervous. A steady hand will see you through and for this the occasional sip of your strong source of Brownian motion is recommended.

We attached the Legs first. The exact order is up to you. Ideally the Arms should be affixed some way back and above the shoulders, to make them secure and bulk out the upper Body. Likewise the Tail should be attached at a point just a fraction above halfway up the back of the Body, both for the right Tail length and to form a ridge along the Hatchling’s spine. The Head can then be merged with this ridge at the back with the application of any small bits of extra marzipan you happen to have at hand. (What do you mean, you’ve eaten them? Well, don’t blame us if your Hatchling looks silly.)

We’ve included a photo to illustrate what the Hatchling might look like at this stage. If nudity offends, please look away now.

Step Four

Colouring. A simple delicate touch or several with the cake decorating pen should take care of those coal-black eyes – one either side of the Head for ideal results. Then you’ll want to give him a nice not-quite-all-over coat of Orange. We used a mix of Yellow and Red, favouring the Yellow. Leave most of his belly uncoloured, or if using white marzipan, you’ll want to paint it Yellow first probably. Allow the colour to dry a little before moving onto the Red, which you’ll be needing to apply in rough sort of stripes. The longer you leave the Orange to dry, the better the contrast with the Red, we suspect. Don’t be too neat and if the Red happens to bleed over a bit, so much the better.

Step Five

Spines. Think Stegosaurus here as you deftly stick flaked almonds into the Hatchling’s back like a nutty Brutus and his cronies repeatedly stabbing a reptilian Caesar – although possibly with less force. You’ll want plenty of each flake to protrude and arrange them in a crude sort of double row all the way down to the end of the tail, selecting the smaller flakes for the top of the head.

Step Six

Stand back and admire your handiwork. Your work is done.

Remember, a Hatchling is not just for Christmas. If you’re careful and you can run fast, you may last until New Year.

This product and its manufacturer may contain nuts.

SAF