This week we take a look at everyone's favorite doctor: Dr. Doom!
Written by Bluestreak and Porcelain38
This is An Idiot's Guide to Supervillains . It's part fact, part opinion, and part bullshitting my way through 75 years worth of literature that is both entertaining and slightly ridiculous. An Idiot's Guide to Supervillains is not meant to be taken 100% seriously nor is it 100% factual.f
Everyone loves superheroes, and you know what? They're stuck up assholes. Here at An Idiot's Guide To Supervillains we invite you to take a look at misunderstood villains and why they do the things they do. Remember there might be two sides to every story and you need so know the whole story... because knowing is half the battle or something like that.
It's always good to be a doctor. They are the best the world has to offer: healing people, saving lives, inventing new forms of medication to extend Keith Richards' life. These are the sort of things that doctors do. But what is the best kind of doctor? Clinical doctors have to look at fat people and anal warts all day. Love doctors have to wear garish makeup, stick their freakishly long tongues out at people and treat their countless STDs. Even a PhD will only earn you a sing along blog if your lucky. No, the best sort of doctor is the doctor who specializes in doom, destruction and world conquering. And is there anybody we know that is a doctor like that?
Ah, yes, the good Doctor Doom, of course. Born with the rather foreboding name of Victor von Doom, the future doctor was raised by gypsies. Doom grew up learning the three fundamentals of the gypsy way: scamming people out of money, fortune telling, and sending demons to attack scantily clad teenage girls. After his mother died due to an unfortunate bout of gypsyitis, Doom knew that he wanted to either save people's lives or take them. And where was the best place to do both? America!
The young von Doom came to America and discovered a deep love of underwear modeling. He enjoyed the fact that he didn't have to wear a metal suit of armor or a mask that covered his dashing good looks. Buoyed on by his success in modeling, Doom enrolled as a transfer student hoping for the normal American college experience. Doom was hoping for late nights drinking with frat brothers, sleeping with loose women who may or may not have been roofied, and maybe the occasional arcane ritual to resurrect an ancient evil. What he got was Reed Richards.
Richards was everything that Doom was not. He didn't wear capes, he had friends, and he had an annoying knack of being right. He also had a hidden hatred of gypsies, a hatred never touched upon by any comic book ever. Richards cruelly tampered with a time machine that Doom was working on in his spare time and caused it to blow off his face. Literally. His dreams of becoming an underwear model ruined, Doom swore revenge against the infernal Richards and fashioned himself a metal armor and mask. In remembrance of his dead underwear modeling career, Doom vowed to never wear another pair of underwear again.
Due to his iron armor and the fact that he is a man, Doctor Doom is often compared to certain drunk who also likes to parade in his armor without underwear. However, Doom is no Iron Man Lite. In fact, he has twice as many calories as Iron Man. Unlike Iron Man, who's just some dude in a robot suit that needs repulsor rays to create quicker routes to the liquor cabinet, Doctor Doom not only employs advance robotics and arcane magic, he also wears a green cape. And a badass one at that. Doom also knows how to accessorize beyond his fabulous green cape. He also has armor made from the skin of his dead lover. Suck on that, Jeffrey Dahmer.
So after Doom got his doctorate degree in Anti-Reed Richards Studies, Doom moved back to his home country, Latveria, and became president/king/monarch/czar/DOOOOOOOOM of the nation through a legitimate election process. Basically, Doom had to vote between ruling the nation or destroying it. Doom made the democratic choice, in this writer's humble opinion. Latveria is currently one of the happiest countries on Earth. Remember Sound of Music? It's like that country, only without Julie Andrews or any of the children and the Nazis were still in power. So to summarize, it's like Sound of Music only better. And to remind his people how safe his country was, he built an army of robots that look just like him, which isn't egotistical at all. Just because a man builds thousands of robots that look identical to him doesn't mean he's obsessed with himself. In fact, Doom can proudly claim that he's obsessed with someone else entirely. Someone named Reed Richards.
The next time Doom goes on a crazed rampage cut the man some slack. His mother was killed at an early age, his face was exploded, he lost his underwear modeling career and he has to rule over a third world nation whose poor conditions are solely his own fault. So instead of blaming Doctor Doom for his three figure body count, blame someone who deserves it. RICHHHHARDDDDSSSS!!!!