Taking over the world is hard, which is probably why nobody's ever done it. Alexander the Great came close, as did King and Queen British the Xth, but nobody has ever had 100 percent of the population quaking with fear over the Light of Judgment because they got lippy with the wrong guard.
But you know who could conquer us all? The stars of toddler TV. Their shows aren't just bright colors, soothing sounds, and whimsical innocence -- many contain unstoppable, badass tools of war that, if commandeered by the right terrible person, would quickly bring billions to their knees. Right now, they're being wasted on teaching babies how to count. But one day, they just might cause history's largest body count ...
#5. Mickey Mouse Clubhouse's Toodles and Mousekadoer
Disney Television Animation
The Mickey Mouse Clubhouse universe is what would happen if Big Brother took over and was adorable. Mickey and his band of merry second bananas have every single insignificant problem of theirs (Donald has hiccups, oh no! Mickey sucks at hide and seek, double oh no!) solved by the Mousekadoer, an omnipresent supercomputer that sees into the future, knows every tool that the gang will eventually need to solve their problem, and generates them all with no prompting beyond Mickey dancing for its amusement.
Disney Television Animation
"Aw-haw, gee fellas, ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn, ha-HA."
Helpless Mickey and friends summon Toodles, a flying extension of the Mousekadoer with every preordained tool at the ready. If Mickey needs a rope for mountain climbing or punishing Minnie for being a naughty rodent, Toodles had it ready to go for hours. If no tools work, selecting the Mystery Tool will reveal the correct answer 100 percent of the time. The Mousekadoer knows literally everything. It probably even knows how Goofy dies.
Disney Television Animation
"You have selected 'gored to a goofcake and left to gasp his final painful breath all alone,' just as it was foretold."
Imagine this all-knowing, all-supplying machine in the hands of a megalomaniacal psychopath. With a Mousekadoer, you would always -- with no effort on your end -- be as many steps ahead of your opponent as you need to be. Let's say an army approaches with tanks and rockets and fighter jets at the ready, because you've long since Toodle'd yourself to a nasty reputation. Simply summon the perky little guy, select "hydrodgen bomb," and watch gleefully as everybody within 10 miles immediately burns to a radioactive crisp.
Don't forget to select the Mystery Tool right after, which will absolutely be a hazmat suit because the Mousekadoer hath foretold the destruction and knows its master will require immediate protection.
All your gods are dead, and you'll never regain faith
The only limitation of a Mousekadoer is that Toodles doesn't pop in and tell you when it's "tool time," because free will. So it's on you to survive the enemy onslaught by your lonesome. Once you hit a roadblock and nothing in your arsenal will help you continue, then you summon Toodles. Select whatever you need to continue your humanicide, and if you didn't blow all your tools too early, you'll have billions of pitiful servants weeping under your thumb in no time.
#4. Martha Speaks' Alphabet Soup
Martha Speaks is about a dog named Martha, who speaks. Somebody at PBS was really burning the midnight oil when drumming up that name.
Martha didn't learn to talk from magic, a gypsy curse, or even a machine, but from food. She ate a bowl of alphabet soup, and for reasons never explained aside from "shut up," the noodles invaded her brain and taught her to speak perfect English. Her family responds to this world-changing miracle by doing jack shit about it, because didn't we just tell you to shut up? Just shut up already.
That's some hot noodle-on-noodle action.
We've been fantasizing about talking animals for a long time, and if you can turn this dream into reality with a $1 can of Campbell's soup, you'd be unstoppable. Simply concoct a secret formula for turning animal speak into human speak (that's on you -- I'm more of an idea evil genius), cook up a big pot of alphabet soup, mix in your formula, feed it to your dog, and get to gabbing. Hopefully they have something to say.
"Hi. Hey, food. Hi, food. Food, hey, where you going? Hi. Oh Lord, not the duct tape. Hi, food. Hey, mmf mmf."
But don't make the same mistake the show did and let one nice doggie bogart all the yakking. Perfect your animal-talking recipe to the point where every species, including dangerous ones like bears and tigers and king cobras, can chow down and speak your language, and then -- this is the the tricky part -- convert them to your cause. Convincing the deadliest of species that every human but you is why the world is so terrible might not be easy. But if you have the confidence and magnetic charisma to pull it off, then all the villains who have wantonly destroyed the planet for so long will soon fall. Every naked monkey on Earth will then live out its days as slaves to both you and the animal kingdom. The fur-clothed monkeys will especially embrace this brave new world.
"Face-ripping is my business. And business is good."
I don't care how prepared the armies of the world think they are -- against scores and scores of giant, muscular, poisonous, pissed-the-hell-off carnivorous maniacs who know exactly what they're doing and why they're doing it, civilization is getting blown up fast, no matter how much we damn our new masters to hell.
#3. Super Why's Why Writer
Maybe you're not one to just bomb everyone into oblivion and lord over the remains. What if you, like so many cliche sports-spewers before you, believe that defense wins the game? Well, Super Why has just the weapon of mass destruction for you: the Why Writer.
More powerful than a billion sticks and stones.
Wielded by a knee-high superhero named Super Why (real name Whyatt, much to the delight of his sister, Jubilation Lee and his aunt, Harleen Quinzel), the Why Writer can change the words (and story) of any book to whatever the hell its master wants. Because he's a children's hero and therefore a wicked nice kid, Super Why uses his power solely to help classic book characters get out of author-ordained jams. So no longer does Little Red Riding Hood get eaten by the Big Bad Wolf -- suddenly he's the Small Good Wolf who only munches kibble probably.
"You might want to fly over to the next page and find a substitute for 'grandma poop' though."
For dastardly villains with total collapse of civilization on their mind, the Why Writer would be the perfect way to do so without risking too much life and limb in the process. Simply hire spies to gather as many secret memos, military launch codes, and blueprints for weapons as possible, and use the Why Writer to change them to the point of uselessness. Over time, the world's governments will become equally useless, as nobody will know what to do anymore. They'll follow the wrong instructions, input the wrong codes, create malfunctioning weaponry, and be ripe for a hostile takeover from one of the few people left who actually knows what they're doing.
"Rote, by-the-book, mindless button pressing, why hath thou forsaken me?!"
What you don't want to do is turn your ill-gotten government booty into a wacky clown show. Though tempting, don't replace numbers with hieroglyphics. Don't change the names of secret locations and meeting places to that of your favorite Pokemon. Your enemies will notice, track you down, and beat you dead. The trick is to make your changes look like actual information, so nobody catches on until everything they know and love has disintegrated to anarchy, chaos, madness, and finally nothingness.
Or you could just save Humpty Dumpty from cracking open and send your kid to bed happy for once. Your call.