Hey, look at this crowd of people outside the venue next to the band’s idling tour bus. It’s been more than half an hour since the show ended and these weirdos are still here. Don’t they have anything better to do? They’re just shivering in an alley, choking on diesel exhaust, and getting yelled at over and over by security.
All because — get a load of this — they think if they stand here long enough, they’re going to meet the band when they come out and that the band will be like “Hey, you look cool as hell, come hang with us and have a few drinks.”. Ha. Can you believe it? What a parade of patheticness. A lineup of lonely losers. Literally the most embarrassing thing I’ve ever seen.
Now of course I’m standing here, too, but that’s different. When the band gets out here, they’ll be able to tell right away that I’m their one and only real fan. I’ve got my copy of the rare Japanese import version of the debut album on both vinyl and cassette, and a couple Sharpies and a quick four-page letter I wrote to the lead singer.
It’ll be amazing. He’ll marvel at my appreciation of their music and we’ll laugh at those idiot “fans” over there who definitely didn’t even know there was a Japanese import cassette. After that, I’m thinking he’ll invite me on the bus to talk guitars over a few beers and then we’ll go from there. Pretty decent chance that by the end of it, my band winds up opening for them. Maybe on the next tour if our schedules line up.
But look, it’s not like I remotely care about meeting these guys. I’m probably going to leave in a few minutes, anyway, and get away from this whole uncomfortable scene. I’m just waiting for Uber surge prices to drop. I’m not some cringy teenybopper like that girl over there. She keeps craning her neck every time that side door creaks open and someone drags out a road case. Absolutely no chill. Gross.
We’ve — I mean they’ve — been waiting for a long time now. Meanwhile I’ve walked up and down the alley and entire venue parking lot four times now. Just for some exercise, to be clear. Not to try to see if the band snuck out of a different door already to go the bar next door or to talk to the roadie who was taking a smoke break on the steps and find out if he knows where the guys are.
All right, here we go. Yeah, there’s the drummer coming outside and the bassist is right behind. I can’t believe the tour manager isn’t shooing away all those losers swarming them. They’re really taking photos and signing autographs? I guess in that case, I might as well wander back over to the bus. Just so the band members and I can roll our eyes at everyone.
Alright, he was a paranoid schizophrenic with a long history of brutal violence, this one probably isn’t on Loomis. Still, it’s perplexing that the doctor recommended driving lessons as part of Simm’s treatment. Pretty much as soon as he learned what the gas pedal did he was gone.
Cain had come to Loomis seeking advice to quit smoking, but the doctor became immediately convinced that he was pure evil. He told Cain this repeatedly, but for reasons unknown Cain kept seeing him. Eventually, in the throes of nicotine withdrawal, Cain internalized this message and murdered three of his coworkers.
Tristen sought Loomis’s advice in navigating communication issues she was having with her husband. The good doctor’s diagnosis? Pure evil. Time and time again Loomis’s go-to move is telling a patient they have the blackest eyes, the Devil’s eyes, and accusing them of being inhuman. In this instance, it turned a suburban housewife with no history of violence or wrongdoing into a jogger-strangling monster.
“Tell me about your mother. Was she also pure evil?” Jesus dude, change up your approach.
In one of his all-time greatest blunders, Loomis meant to write Lorenzo a prescription for Xanax that he could take on airplanes but got his notes mixed up and wound up prescribing pure evil.
Yes, late-night host Bill Maher is a patient of Dr. Loomis and has killed 7 people. How have we not canceled this guy?
During the routine transfer of murderer Henry Parsons, Loomis was twirling around his therapist gun and singing a little song to the tune of “The Muffin Man.” It went like this:
In his first session with Tommy, then a teen caught doing graffiti, Loomis called Tommy pure evil. Tommy replied “No I’m not,” and Loomis replied, “Oh, what’s the matter, chicken?!”
When Loomis insisted that McCray’s recurring dream about falling wouldn’t stop until his inherent evil was satiated, McCray took matters into his own hands in an incident now known as the Carlsville pitchfork slaughter.
Loraine was a violent psychotic under Dr. Loomis’s care who was set free when Loomis accidentally texted “FREEBACON” to a Smith’s Grove guard. Apparently, this was a promo code for a meal delivery service sent by mistake. How is this man still a doctor?
Samantha and Cindy Gursch were sent to Loomis’s office to test for ADD. The first thing he asked them was “Are you two regular twins, or creepy evil murder twins?” That planted a seed that led to the deaths of 16 people in foster homes across the United States in the ‘90s.
Yes, this patient had his name legally changed to “Evil.” He walked right into Loomis’s office and said “I am pure evil, I have the devil’s eyes, and I thirst for blood.” Loomis dismissed Evil as an attention seeker, saying “Get back to me when you’ve got some blood on your hands.” Maybe he was, but Jesus man, you shouldn’t call a bluff like that!
In an ill-advised foray into immersion therapy, Loomis escorted an unrestrained serial killer to a crowded fair, put a knife in her hand, and said “Don’t do anything.” She did stuff.
Gissimons wanted to lose weight, so Loomis made him a subliminal meditation tape to play while he slept. “You are in control of your eating habits. Cheese and cream sauces have no power over you. You are inhuman. Pure evil.”
When Webber approached Loomis requesting his antipsychotic medication be renewed, Loomis replied “I don’t negotiate with evil.”
Drax is the closest approximation to Elon Musk on this list and thus last. He builds spaceships, he’s into eugenics, and he’s arrogant. Probably thinks he’s funny too, all spot-on Musk attributes. Plus he’s hard to work with—even Jaws quit on him! Still, he’s at least straightforward about his plan to abandon Earth and start a master race on the moon.
This evil media tycoon is clearly based on Rupert Murdoch, but that old Leviathan is finally stepping down, and if Musk has his way Twitter will be the Fox News of the future. His plan to start World War III simply to get more engagement on the platforms he owns feels pretty Musky, but there’s a sense of genuine fun to him that Elon could never replicate.
Killed by piranhas by her boss after she failed to kill Bond, Helga’s fate is too similar to that of the average Musk employee for us to lose all sympathy for her.
Rich, snobbish, and hell-bent on plunging the world into chaos simply because he can, Musk and Khan would get on like gangbusters. He’s not far off from the Boring Company founder at the end of the day, but at least he has a touch of class.
You know what a loser villain you need to be to get outshined by the charisma of Joe Don Baker? Musk does. Next to him Mark Zuckerberg almost seems like someone you could have a beer with. He can, however, land the occasional one-liner, putting him miles ahead of Musk likeability-wise.
A chess master and chief strategist for SPECTRE, Kronsteen is one of many many characters on this list who are genuine, capable examples of what Musk pretends to be.
Not much personality, but when he ripped a sink out of a wall to smash James Bond with he didn’t quip “Let that sink in” so he’s the better man.
You would need to be a real piece of shit to be less likable than the guy who maimed Felix Leiter and killed his wife. You would have to say, accuse a rescuer of being a pedophile just because his plan worked and yours wouldn’t have.
He gave us one of the most iconic death scenes in the James Bond franchise. What has Musk given us, exploding electric cars we can’t afford?
One of many, many blond muscle men in the James Bond franchise and a particularly bland one at that. Still, he would never name a kid X Æ A-Xii.
His overwhelming loyalty suggests a capacity for human connection.
Sometimes, all someone needs to do to be more likable than Elon Musk is to fall off a cliff.
Morzeny runs the training facility on SPECTRE island, hardening the world’s top assassins to kill James Bond. He’s able to work for Blofeld long term, but it’s hard to picture him working for musk more than a month before he says “Fuck this guy” and quits.
You know the bad guy trope of holding the world ransom? Largo invented that. Musk would have hired people to invent it for him and then taken all the credit.
Kaufman specializes in making his assassinations look like suicides. He’s not a nice guy, but he never tweeted “pronouns suck,” so there ya go.
He’s an egotistical, morally bankrupt computer programmer who looks like he would be right at home ironically smoking weed on Rogan, but he does actually know his way around a computer.
Mollaka is as good at parkour as Elon probably likes to think he would be.
He’s got a cool “I bet my sports car in a hand of poker” story at least. Elon would float the idea of raising with an Aston Martin, then take 30 minutes explaining that it’s a very funny joke, then make like he’s actually going to do it anyway, then back out.
Any character played by Mads Mikkelsen and Orson Welles is more likable than Musk, including Hannibal Lecter and Charles Foster Kane.
The laughter of this immortal voodoo priest is sinister but genuine. The laughter of Elon Musk is clearly rehearsed minutes before camera time.
His scars and demeanor suggest a working class background making him worlds more relatable than Tesla’s CEO.