"HELP FUND MY ROBOT ARMY so I can crush your hopes and dreams by making my own come true!

Project Goals

As late as ten years ago, a mad scientist with a dream could expect to turn a decent profit with his lesser inventions and build enough capital to put his (or her!) real plans into play.

Those days are sadly over, although my father, fool that he was, claimed that they never existed. You knew him as Doctor Cetaceaux, at least up until last year, when his orca henchmen, fed-up with being paid in inferior tuna, turned on him. Oh, how he screamed as they tossed him around like a stringy, bony seal . . . but that’s neither here nor there. He claimed that he and my mother were quite poor back in the day, and that it has always been difficult for new talent to get a start. NONSENSE! Absolute nonsense—why, when he was young, a handcrafted reverse-aging ray might make an enterprising scientist enough money to live comfortably in an abandoned Alpine castle for several years. Now, such items are mass-produced by Beauticience Incorporated for a pittance."

Read the rest at: http://www.lightspeedmagazine.com/fiction/help-fund-my-robot-army/