text: [Themes: The Owl Consults Extended Universe, humor, multiple protagonists, superhero]
  
  each other.
  Some people perform great deeds. Some people perform dastardly deeds. And some people get rich telling other people what to do.
  
  It's a good life as a freelance villainous advisor. Here you sit, secure in your tastefully opulent headquarters, critiquing vault-robbery plans and helping tongue-tied ne'er-do-wells craft their grandiose monologues. It may not be a hands-on sort of villainy, but as the Americas languish through year after year of depression and Europe lurches towards yet another Great War, it seems an altogether pleasant way to keep your hands clean.
  
  But now the phone is ringing. One of your clients is contacting you on Line 1, hoping for on-the-job consultation via electro-radiographic zeta-wave transmitter. That's not a service you provide to just anybody; the retainer is quite substantial.
  
  You sit in your pleasant office, surrounded by mementos of your numerous exploits.
  I beg your pardon?
  
  [Author's Note: Once you've established yourself as the ruler of the crime world (and, eventually, the literal world), the only challenge left is helping out the next generation of supervillains---for a suitable fee, of course.]
  
  > About yourself
  Your appearance is unknown even to your clients, whom you contact via various radio transmitters.
  
  The phone rings again.
  
  > answer the phone
  Good afternoon, Owl. Or good morning, evening, or night, since I shouldn't care to hazard a guess as to your time zone.
  
  But be that as it may. It is I, Amelia Derringer! I flatter myself to think that you may have heard of me; I'm the infamous thief who has been delighting and terrorizing England for three years now. As you undoubtedly know, I'm no ordinary sneak-thief. I became a cat burglar after acquiring an uncanny ability to shape-shift. All I need to do is eat a bit of an animal, and I can harness some small fraction of its special powers. It's served me well in my many successful burglaries, and I've acquired a reputation as a master thief, along with a lot of other people's money.
  
  But now I'm in a bit of a pickle, you know. Here I am, suspended in a cage over a slavering octopus. It's not something that would ordinarily confound me, of course, but I'm afraid I've mislaid my bag of thief tools---or rather, I had it mislaid for me by one of Rex Dashing's confounded robots. If it's not too much of a bother, would you be so kind as provide some sort of advice? I'd rather like to escape this cage, make my way through the airship, and help myself to a few cuttings of the Telepathic God-Slug of Madagascar. My research indicates that Rex Dashing keeps its body somewhere about his airship.
  
  Aquarium (in the steel cage)
  As cliché as it is, I'm trapped in a cage being slowly lowered into a tank. This particular tank is at least occupied by a vicious octopus rather than a horde of piranhas or sharks, which I suppose is at least mildly original. There is a prominent red button on the wall here, tantalizingly out of reach. There's also an exit south and a trapdoor overhead, though neither one is going to be useful to me until I get out of this accursed cage.
  
  One of the tentacles of that dratted beast is slurping over the edge of the cage! I trust you have something clever in mind.
  
  > eat the tentacle
  All right, if you insist...
  
  Well, that was certainly distasteful. I'm not sure I got more than a mouthful of slime, or ichor, or whatever the deuce you call it. I do seem to have come over all rubbery, though.
  
  Another tentacle is slithering over the floor of the cage! Help!
  
  > Go south
  The cage is in the way.
  
  > look at the cage
  Steel, I should think, unless it happens to be one of those lightweight galvanic alloys one hears so much about. The bars of the cage are set about four inches apart, which should be just wide enough for me to squeeze through with my new rubbery power.
  
  It's getting very crowded in this cage with all the tentacles crawling into it. Help!
  
  > leave the cage
  With my newfound rubberiness, I think I should be able to slip through the bars. Let me just twist...and...
  
  Capital! I've just squeezed through the bars and gracefully somersaulted onto the ground below. It's a shame you couldn't have seen it, Owl; it really was a magnificent feat of dexterity.
  
  Now that the immediate threat has passed, I should elaborate on my mission. I managed to sneak about the Mephistopheles in order to steal the elusive Telepathic God-Slug of Madagascar, a rare creature whose secretions have an intense pacifying effect on anyone who comes into contact with them. If I obtained the slug and ate it---just a nibble, mind you, not enough to kill it---then I could use my shapeshifting powers to harness that effect for myself. The Slug has no loftier ambitions for its power than confusing predators, but I plan to use it to establish a new world of peace and cooperation. With the power to affect the psychology of a few chosen leaders of industry and government, I could eliminate war entirely and bring about a pacifist utopia over which I have complete control---to the best possible ends, of course.
  
  That was the idea, anyway. While I was bantering with Dashing over dinner, I accidentally tipped my hand. I don't think he ever realized the significance of the God-Slug; to him, it was just another trophy from his adventures. He figured out I was up to something, though, and had his robots drag me down here and---well, you know the rest.
  
  I need your help, Owl, to complete my mission. I want to find the God-Slug of Madagascar and safely escape the ship. I was told that you're the best in the business. Let's see what you can do.
  
  > exit the cage
  I'm not in the cage, thank goodness.
  
  I'm afraid my animal power has subsided. It only lasts for a brief time, you know.