top of page

Night Market Guard

Night Market Guard, for Magic the Gathering.  Artwork by Steve Argyle

The Night Market Guard has had an interesting life.  Before semi-retiring and choosing the simpler, slightly less murdery career of guarding a bazaar of knock-off masterworks and low-quality aether cut with Pop-Rocks and Pixie Stix, he (she?) (they?) were the bodyguard and right-hand snitch-stabber of none other than Gonti, Lord of Luxury.

And Gonti, as the high-rollingest smoke monster in the multiverse, accepts nothing but the best and blingiest in his entourage.

According to the Misanthropes Guide to Nefarious Standards and Evil Practices, a villain may only have one overpowered, nigh-undefeatable, right-hand henchman (don’t ask me why, I didn’t write the thing, and for the sake of fellow evil-doers everywhere, I think it needs a revision). This particular rule proved problematic for the big baddie of Kaladesh. After grueling tryouts, a single-elimination cookie bake-off and a double-elimination puppet show, two filigreed champions stood above the rest.  And yet, they were too perfectly matched. One could not gain the advantage over the other—even in the bonus round: a free-form, interpretive speed-miming of selected Simpsons episodes, where the applause meter was wired directly to a trap door opening over certain death in a vat of roiling metal-eating kittens.

This was intense competition indeed.  What was a proper ludicrously-extravagant supervillain to do?

Finally, inspiration gonged.  Maybe he was really into mashups, or perhaps he felt nostalgic about his days as a performer in a freak show (where, as a wee servo, he probably developed his deep loathing for humankind?) But whatever the source of the spark of genius, he stopped the dance-off mid-Chest Pop, and sent both murder-bots to his top evil scientist.  (Who had washed out of a promising career after trying to cure cancer by adding more cancer.  Only with lazer eyes, shark teeth, and a lust to escape its host and start a family of sharkcancer babies.)


The result of this nefarious collaboration: The cure for smoke-monster-crime-lord loneliness.  The Conjoined Murder-bot with a penchant for doing bad impressions of the two-headed-giant from the Loony Tunes.

They're name, collectively, is Cobaltwhuff CuCuCobble. 

bottom of page