Anything You Say (Patreon)

Deep in the bowls of his not-so-secret lair Dr Drakken toils away in his lab, perfecting his greatest invention: a simplified mind control device.  With the push of a single button anyone would become his slave, doing his bidding without complaint or question.

His first attempts were clunky and cumbersome, requiring a collar to be placed around the subject's neck or a microchip placed on their person.  Time and time again the subject would either elude him before being fitted with it or...more often than he cared to admit...they would beat him into a pulp in the process.  On a few rare occasions everything went his way, but those instances were few and far between.

Finally, after years of trial and error, it would seem that he's finally had a eureka moment.  Now all he needs is a test subject.  Reaching across his workbench, Doc presses the call button on an old and antiquated intercom speaker.

Drakken: Shego!  Come to my laboratory at once!

Deep within the lair Shego lounges beneath her sun lamp, half-asleep.  Laying on her stomach, naked except for a pair of tanning goggles, she groans in annoyance at the sudden interruption.

Shego: (on the intercom, sarcastically) "Luh-bor-uh-tor-ee?"  Alright, Victor Von Frankenstein.

Drakken: Oh, har-dee-har-har.  Come here.  I need you, this instant!

Shego: (on the intercom, annoyed) Jesus, the handy during lunch wasn't enough?

Drakken: Not for that...!  I need your assistance!

Shego: (on the intercom, exasperated) Urgh.  Fine.  This'd better be important, Doc.

Attired in a short dressing gown and pair of bunny slippers, Shego trundles into Drakken's lab.  The garments sheer fabric does little to hide the fact that she isn't wearing anything beneath it.  So accustomed to seeing her in little to no clothing around the liar these days, Drakken scarcely notices that her gown doesn't quite cover the creases below her butt cheeks either.

Shego's usual unimpressed and disinterested expression upon being summoned to behold one of Doc's creations quickly disappears, replaced by an irritated scowl.  Seeing the familiar device laying on his worktop, she steps backwards, waggling an index finger at him.

Shego: Uh-uhhh.  Nope.  No way, José.  DO NOT even think about pointing that thing at me!

Drakken: Oh, don't be so melodramatic.

Shego: Melodramatic?!  The last time you zapped me with that thing I woke up naked in Tijuana, riding a Zonkey down Avenida Revolución.

Drakken: Ah, yes...painted burros.  Good times.

Shego's scowl instantly changes to one of sheer rage.  Both of her hands erupt in green plasma as she raises them in front of her.  Suddenly bug-eyed with fear, Drakken frantically waves his arms at her.

Drakken: WOAH!  WOAH!  WOOOAAHH!  I only called you in here to...

Shego: Choose your next words carefully, Doc.

Drakken: ...to see if you'd find me a test subject!  I...  I didn't mean you.  And...  And it just so happens that little miss 'thinks she's all that' is working at that strip club in downtown tonight.

Almost instantly, Shego's lowers her hands, the glowing plasma dissipating to tendrils of green smoke.  Her angry expression replaced by a mischievous half-smirk.

Shego: I bet she'd look cute in a sombrero.

Download it here.

Original Art by Ironwolf

Colors and Edits by Phillipthe2