The prompt for Day 12 fell through the cracks in the space-time continuum, never to be seen again. Or perhaps emerging some time in the future to cause chaos in the midst of a chronologically organized list. Anyway, on to Day 13.
Mr. Wilkins and Mr. Bogg could not be more different from each other.
Mr. Wilkins was a tall man, made even taller by the top hat perched on his head like a felt raven. He had hair the color of steel, combed so neatly it almost looked like it was made of the metal. He was a fastidious man in all aspects of his life, and dressed in the finest and most elegant suits. He regarded the world through tiny, beady eyes that made everyone in his sight appear tiny and insignificant. His claw-like nose was always pointed skyward, as if searching the heavens for a divine aroma. His expression suggested he was constantly failing to do so. To Mr. Wilkins, anything without monetary value had no value at all.
Mr. Bogg was the sort of man who spent his evenings in taverns of ill-repute, spinning extravagant tales of fictional exploits and staying well past closing time. No barkeep ever saw a penny emerge from Mr. Bogg’s pocket. He was a man of short stature, with slumping shoulders and a sly smile. His eyes bulged out of his rotund face, as if seeking to leave and explore the world on their own. He wore a large overcoat that did nothing to conceal his portly frame and a bowler hat that made no secret of his baldness. For Mr. Bogg, a free meal was more of a life philosophy than an occasional indulgence.
The only similarity both gentlemen shared was a deep, seething hatred of humanity.
And that was how they came to found the Coalition of Rather Enterprising Evil People (C.R.E.E.P. for short), and became the most infamous villains known to mankind.