He needs a third opinion

Condiment Wizard sat in his cell once more, his mind going over what he could do. There should be a growing shark girl army in the Gotham River, and he has no less than four minions in Arkham Asylum and one toy in the Bat family. That was a lot to work with, and he could surely do a lot with it.

Which was a problem for Condiment Wizard, as he could do a grand spell, a big show of his might, but he was not a genius. He had been of average intelligence in his last life, and he had not found an increase to it; he had just gained the ability to wield the dark magic arts. Which was good; it has made him the great Condiment wizard. The problem he currently faced was he had a great many pieces on the board but now real idea how to use them together.

He could have the four minions he had in the Arkham Asylum staff to help take over. He could also have his spy feed him information he would need to be able to defeat the bat family. He could also have his shark girl army attack Gotham, bringing mayhem as well as looting everything not nailed down. Now obviously these pieces could work together to make a decent plan, but he couldn't think of a way to make it a vast plan.

One that could have the master detective Batman chasing his own tail. Now if Batman found a part of the plan, he would surely figure out the rest in no time. He needed help to make this plan deep to give it a vastness that would amaze all when they realized what the plan was at its fruition. It would be a crowning achievement, making him not just Gotham's greatest wizard but also one of its more brilliant minds.

He looked over towards Cheryl, who was pacing outside his and his neighbor's cells. It was clear she was using the excuse of patrolling to stay close to him. So he thought of one of his other minions, Mrs. Young, his personal therapist; she seemed like one who could have a complex evil plot. So when Cheryl was making her way back from the opposite side of the hall, he mouthed toward her, 'Meeting Mrs. Young.' Cheryl gave the tiniest nods, confirming she had gotten his command.

Soon enough after a short time she was back. "Condiment wizard, sir, it's time to meet with your therapist." She said, respectfully, to which he nodded and got up. He quickly walked to the cell door, giving her a quick 'Let's go' as he went out of his cell. She nodded in response and quickly led him to his therapist's office.

He made his way into the room as Cheryl waited on the other side of the door. Waiting for him was a clearly eager Dr. Young standing there in the center of the room. "Master, it is good to see you. "May I be of service?" Dr. Young asked, her voice practically dripping with anticipation at the thought of him so eager to command her.

"Well, my ever-loyal minion, I have an issue. As I find myself trying to play a game of chess, thinking twenty moves ahead, yet I am far more suited to checkers. The Condiment wizard said he was being brutally honest about his abilities. He pulled out his idol wand from where he had it hidden in his straight jacket. "Though I am powerful enough a wizard to make up for my lack of planning ability with sheer magical might." The Condiment wizard said he felt like he should point out his magical strength to make up for lack of planning ability.

Dr. Young, seeing the obvious power play, immediately knelt before him. "Of course none can defy your magical might." Dr. Young said her voice was as submissive as it could be. The Condiment wizard thought on that a moment and doubted it. Well, he was the strongest in Gotham; he wasn't that much more powerful than other wizards from around the world.

"Thank you, minion, but we are getting off track. I need that devious mind of yours to help me make a plan." The Condiment wizard said it was getting to the point of coming to her office. He told her quickly of his other minions and his current plans for their use. "I know I have something good here, but I know it could be even better. I just need your help in making it so." The condiment wizard said to her, then went silent to let her think in peace.

Dr. Young's mind said nothing for a long moment, her mind turning over the particulars. She did not think of the suggested plan itself but of all the players involved. If she had not been aware of how far her master's influence had spread, she would need to make moves of her own to prove that she should be in charge of Arkham Asylum and not one of her rivals.

Though her mind did turn back to the subject at hand. "Master, you wish for a grand plan, correct? A true epic worthy of your great spellcraft, correct?" Mrs. . Young asked, to which Condiment gave her an eager yes, wanting to see where she was going with this soon. "Well, Master, what's a better epic than a tragic one?" Mrs. Young said it and then proceeded to tell him her plan.

The Condiment wizard looked at her, his mind whirling at the cruelty and brilliance needed for this plan. "You know if I go through with this plan and pull it off, I will be a villain greater than the Joker as far as Batman is concerned?" The Condiment wizard asked Mrs. Young, who nodded happily at the idea of her master reaching such prestige.

The Condiment wizard thought on this long and hard. This was perhaps the most important decision of his second life as Condiment Wizard. He thought, knowing once he had gone through with this plan, there would be no going back. He thought on it quite hard, eventually coming to the conclusion that it must be done. As it would prove beyond a shadow, he was alive, for the dead could not do such a diabolical thing.

He looked into Mrs. Young's eyes and asked what he needed. "Give me a pen, paper, and a jar; I shall set the plan in motion." The Condiment wizard said in a firm voice, to which Mrs. Young responded immediately by getting what he asked. It was soon done, and he needed to leave quickly. As the message and package could not be linked to him in any way.

It was disappointing, Condiment Wizard thought as he glanced at Mrs. Young while leaving the room, that he did not get to take advantage of her as usual. They both would have enjoyed it, he thought, and then he went into the hallways, being led back to his cell by Cheryl. His mind was constantly going over whether or not he had gone too far with what he had set in motion.