Milton - Marvel Caterer by M. Jacot

My name is Milton. I'm not going to say that I'm the most important man in the Marvel Universe, but I'm often overlooked when it comes to listing those types of people. I've had more interaction with super-villains than anybody else here. I don't fight super-villains. I don't kill super-villains. I don't train super-villains.
I'm a caterer. I feed super-villains.p> Being a super-villain works up an appetite.
Not that I would know. It's not like I've ever been one. But I've been around them enough to know what I'm talking about.
I cater parties, and my specialty is super-villain parties. It's a good, lucrative business. I don't spend a dime on advertising; all of my business is word-of-mouth.
I started as a caterer in 1964. I was a beginner in the business, just another caterer trying to scrape out a living with a million other New York caterers fighting for the same customers. There was this caterer, her name was Rose Gerhardt. She was this little skinny woman, couldn't have weighed more than 90 pounds. But she had an attitude that made the Hulk look like a beagle puppy. She was a high-octane bitch, a real ball-breaker. She would bark orders to her staff like she was the head of the Gestapo. They all hated her. That approach never works - your staff has got to respect you, then they'll like you just as a matter of course. If you've got no respect, your staff will do everything to undermine you. But why anyone would work for this woman in the first place is beyond me. She was a shrieking, nasty, quick-tempered holy terror.
Well, back in '64 I got my first big break. The head of a big company picked me to cater its Christmas party. And I mean big. I won't mention names, but you'd know the company. I was pumped for it. It was going to be a big job, but nothing I couldn't handle. When I asked for half again my usual rates, the guy didn't even blink. It was not only a dream job, but it was going to be the one that would open the doors for a lot more of the same kind. I knew it.
Then in stepped Rose Gerhardt. Turns out she's the friend of the sister of some secretary the boss had been boinking. She got wind of the party, set up an appointment with him, and went to see him all smiles and charm. She knew when and how to turn it on and off for the right people. She talked to him, and within the hour the bastard was calling me to cancel. She had just walked in and stole that job right out from under me.
To say I was pretty mad was an understatement. Rose Gerhardt had pretty much taken the one chance I really needed to establish myself as a caterer and stolen it. There's a rule among caterers. Once a job has been agreed upon, another caterer doesn't sneak in the back door and steal it away. It's not good business tactics and it's not honest. Rose Gerhardt didn't care. When I called her on it, she just got real shrieky and belligerent and ordered me out of her place of business.
It wasn't a good way to start my career as a legitimate caterer.

A couple of months later, my phone rang.
"Milton's Catering", I said.
The voice on the other end was a rich, deep voice, with some sort of foreign accent. Extremely refined and confident. It's funny how you can tell things about people just from their voices. But this was the voice of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and was used to getting it, without being pushy or pretentious.
He said, "I seek a caterer for an affair I will be hosting soon. I wish to hire your services."
I asked for the incidentals. I took notes as this aristocratic voice supplied me with time, dates, and numbers. Then he asked me something which took me by surprise.
"Are you familiar with the preparation of rolled shrimp canapés?"
It wasn't so much the question as how he asked it. Here was this obviously well-bred, refined man arranging a catering, and when he asked about the canapés, he had an almost plaintive sound in his voice, like a child asking for a favorite candy at the candy store, trying to keep his anticipation in check. I wasn't sure, but I had a hunch this potential job was going to hinge on the answer I gave.
I replied, "Sir, I can guarantee you will never have tasted a rolled shrimp canapé as delicious as mine. They are a personal specialty."
The voice, steady and even-toned until now, practically went into a falsetto. "Really? Wonderful! I want plenty of them on hand." I could tell at that moment that I had sealed the job. I hadn't known that, with that answer, I had virtually ensured my catering career as well. Of course, I lied. I was familiar with them, but rolled shrimp canapés were not a specialty of mine. But I could tell my customer wanted them, and I was going to make sure he had them.
I finished getting information from Doctor Doom and set to work on preparations for his party.

Since this was my first big break, I made sure my food was the best, and that there was plenty of it. I took special care with the rolled shrimp canapés, of course.
The party Doctor Doom was hosting, it turned out, was a super-villain party. All of the big name Marvel super-villains were there, all in costume. It was an amazing sight. My first thought was, "Oh boy, with this many super-villains in one room, there's going to be trouble." I envisioned all of my equipment being destroyed in some big free-for-all that would demolish the building. I'd be lucky to get out with my life. I tried to contain my fear and carry it all on as a normal business function.
Doctor Doom could hardly contain himself when he approached the array of food I had set out. I knew what he was looking for. Since there's nothing wrong with scoring a few extra points with a customer, I had a small dish set aside, specially prepared for this moment. When he approached, I pulled it out and offered it to him.
"Try these, sir", I smiled, offering him a plate of the shrimp canapés, "And see if what I was telling you about them was the honest truth."
The Doctor eagerly took the plate. He looked at them carefully, savoring them with his eyes. Then he gingerly picked one of the canapés off the plate and took a bite. Only his eyes can be seen through his metal face mask, but that was all I needed to see. His eyes showed his rapture as he rolled the succulent shrimp around in his mouth. Finally, he looked at me. His dark, piercing eyes stared directly into mine. I couldn't have looked away if I had wanted to.
"You are true to your word. This is absolutely delicious."
That was all it took. From then on, I was the caterer every super-villain called on for every party they had. Doctor Doom saw to it.
He spread the word, and I never wanted for work ever again.

The super-villains at that party were the most pleasant, well-mannered people I'd ever met. It could just as well have been a large gathering of friends or business acquantances, escept that everyone was wearing colorful cotumes. They complimented me on the food throughout the night; later in the evening, Doctor Doom even asked for and got a round of applause for my efforts.
While I was cleaning up and getting ready to leave, the Doctor approached me without my knowing. I was talking to one of my helpers. I casually mentioned, "I'd love to see the look on Rose Gerhardt's face when she hears about the one that got away."
Doctor Doom joined the conversation. he apologized for overhearing this, but wondered what I meant. I told him the story of Rose Gerhardt and how she almost cost me my business. He regarded the story in a cool, aloof manner, as he does with almost everything ... everything, that is, short of shrimp canapés.
He said, "I see. It is most unfortunate that this woman caused you such trouble. I suspect she will not be practicing such cheap ethics on your establishment again, though." And with that, he handed me an envelope containing my payment. He assured me the envelope also contained a tip for my efforts. (When I looked later, I gasped out loud. Doctor Doom is a very generous man when he's treated well.)
It was a wonderful night. I knew I had made some important connections that evening, and I felt like my business was going somewhere.

Within two months, Rose Gerhardt was out of business. Suddenly, nobody would go near her. All of her regular clientele stopped coming to her and started coming to me. It happened so fast she was in a daze. She watched helplessly as she saw thousands of dollars a day slip through her fingers. She was never physically hurt or intimidated, but obviously somebody with some pull was making sure she never bothered me again. That was okay with me.

And that's what the meat of my business has been for 33 years. I cater super-villain parties, and believe me, they have a lot of them. But they're never a rowdy bunch. Never. I think that it might be because they are super-villains. It's like the nuclear physicist who goes home after work and wants to watch TV or play a simple game or something. I know a prosecuting attorney, very successful man. When he gets out of work he likes to do woodworking. Builds stuff, uses his hands, gets covered with sawdust and dirt. People like to get away from work. For super-villains, work is going around being loud and obnoxious and trashing places and smashing superheroes and being a pain in the butt. When they want to relax, they just want to be regular people. They usually wear their working costumes, but I seldom see displays of their powers at parties. They just want to get away from work for a while. They don't want to be bad guys or good guys, they just want to be guys. (And I put it that way just to make the point. The female super-villains are exactly the same way.)

I've met them all. They've all got their quirks and personalities. The Absorbing Man is a nice enough guy, but he's obsessed with the old TV show "Quincy". He thinks it's the best thing television has ever done. I don't know why, but you get him on the subject and he'll talk your ear off about it. He knows all the episodes and has them all on videotape. It's kind of strange, but to each his own.

Electro has kind of a weird sense of humor. He's one of those guys that makes a joke out of everything anybody says, like he's trying to show off how quick-witted he is or something. He's always horning in on conversations and shouting out something he thinks is really funny but is usually pretty dumb. The last party I saw him at, the Shocker and the Owl were discussing the philosophy of René Descartes, and Electro butts right in and says, "That's putting Descartes before da horse." Stuff like that. Nobody knows how to have a conversation with a guy like that.
The other super-villains try to avoid him.

Doctor Doom himself is quite a guy. He is every bit as noble and charismatic as his reputation says. I thought he'd be a lot taller in real life; he's just average height, about 5' 10" or so. But he knows how to be imposing.

The biggest problem with super-villain catering is the seating. Oh, they get along with each other all right enough, and if they don't they pretend to, out of professional courtesy. But, as I mentioned, they often come to these things in costume. Some of these guys have all sorts of weird spiky things sticking out of their uniforms every which way. You wonder how they can move around without knocking things off shelves. Sometimes they can't. When you seat those guys you have to make sure they have plenty of space around them.

I tell this to people and nobody believes me, but it's true. You know The Leader, right? Big head, green skin, megalomaniacal personality? Talk to him at a party some time. He knows every light-bulb joke ever created. You know the ones ... how many so-and-so's does it take to screw in a light bulb? He started telling those one night and didn't stop for forty-five minutes. Had everybody around him laughing like crazy. Doctor Octopus almost wet himself from laughing.
The Leader.

Sometimes people ask me about the super-villains in the DC Universe, or some of the independent universes. They want to know if Thanos ever meets Darkseid anywhere besides those Amalgam crossovers.
It's kind of funny how some people are pretty obsessive about separate universes. There's got to be a universe for Marvel, and a universe for DC, and there's got to be some kind of big ballyhoo cosmic whatchamacallit event for them to ever get together.
What a bunch of bullshit.
They're all in the same place. It's all one universe. Look at the prefix: "uni", meaning "one". There can't be more than one universe because the universe is everything. It's just not something that can be talked about in the plural.
The truth is, all those DC guys and all those Marvel guys and all those other guys live in the same universe. Why haven't they run into each other more often, then? Simple professional courtesy. That's all. They respect each other's space. It's like belonging to different churches. You just respect each other and do your own thing, and don't push yourself into another's territory. Super-heroes, super-villains, everyone. No matter how unethical a super-villain is, that's one line he just won't cross. That's why you'll never see the Joker fighting the Human Torch. That is, unless both sides mutually agree to it, of course.
That's where those crossovers come in. The DC and Marvel heroes and villains have kind of relaxed their standards on this unwritten rule lately. But let me tell you, I'd be cutting my own throat, catering-wise, if I started doing work for the DC villains. That's something you just don't do. They have their own caterer, and I don't cut in on his territory.
And why should I? The Marvel super-villains love and respect me. I'm the safest guy in town. Nobody will touch me, nobody gives me a bit of trouble. I have my business, I have the respect of my customers. That's all a man like me needs.

And that's how it is for me. Sometimes a guy just makes the right connection, and his business thrives. I've never, never had a minute of trouble with any super-villain. They're serious about their parties, they tell you what they want, they conduct business in a professional manner, and they always pay on time. They're not such bad guys.

And they love my rolled shrimp canapés.

MILTON'S RECIPE FOR ROLLED SHRIMP CANAPÉS "Doctor Doom's Favorite"

1 pound fresh medium shrimp in shells (you can use frozen but fresh is always better)
10 slices bacon
1/2 of a 3-ounce package cream cheese with chives, softened
2 teaspoons lemon juice
Dash bottled hot pepper sauce

Thaw shrimp, if frozen. Remove shells and devein. Cut bacon slices in half crosswise. In a skillet cook bacon about 4 minutes or till partially cooked; remove bacon to absorbent paper toweling. Split shrimp in half lengthwise; spread one half of each shrimp with 1/2 teaspoon of the softened cream cheese; replace top half of shrimp. Combine lemon juice and hot pepper sauce. Brush each stuffed shrimp with some of the lemon mixture. Wrap each stuffed shrimp, about 1/2 inch from top (head) end, with one of the bacon halves. Secure each with a wooden pick. to broil, place on an unheated broiler rack and broil 4 to 5 inches from heat for 2 to 3 minutes. Turn. Broil 2 minutes or more or till shrimp are done. Serve hot. Makes 16 to 20 appetizers.