You’ve got to let me out of here. I don’t know the first thing about dismantling a death ray or fighting genetically modified gorillas on the dark side of the moon. I can hardly lift a gallon of milk over my head, let alone a house, and I have trouble with the easy level of Sudoku. I’m just a guy with a mortgage and a minivan with melted chocolate on the seats.

Yes, they call me Captain Asparagus, and yes, I wear a costume, but that’s just to get kids to eat their fruits and vegetables. I spent this morning in my daughter’s third grade class, for crying out loud!

Listen. If you let me go, I won’t tell anyone about your plans. Heck, I couldn’t if I wanted to. I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I mean, is that a dinosaur, or is it a blimp?

What? Come on! That’s your evil scheme? I don’t mean to criticize a guy with a disintegration beam, but wanting to give kids all over the city a vitamin deficiency is really low.