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Wibbon walks through the doorway to the secret villain lair. Well… maybe it isn’t so secret anymore. Located a stone throw away from the eastern walls of the CYStian city-state, it never was the most secretive. That sign they put up, VILLIAN LAIR in magic neon lettering, sort of drew some attention. Plus, the Dark Lord himself takes great pleasure in announcing who’s kicked out (or how Ford is always kicked out) to the unwashed masses.

As his eyes adjust to the grey-blue lighting from eerie oil lamps, he scratches his head. Is this even a villain’s lair? Of course, there’s Steve, and he’s always villainous. Though, their capybara spends most of these times these days munching on mushrooms, watching movies, having sexual relation with various people and socks, or doing all at once. The Dark Lord (who specializes in chaos magic) has become a cornerstone of stability in the kingdom. Even their fair lady Mizal (with a capital M you nitwits) has ascended to godhood and thus stable order as well.

Most damning of all to their villain status is the recent addition to the council ranks. The eighth of the nine members, Medusa, quite possibly may be the best beta reader on either side of the Mississippi and always willing to lend an (ever sarcastic) hand. The ninth member… Wibbon shakes his head. He didn’t even have to bride anyone. Captain Goody Two Shoes is the ninth. “Well scheisse,” he mutters under his breath. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Stop using fucking random German words, you useless fucking whore,” garbles out a man-like being with the head of a corgi dog. “Go suck off another fucking mod to make… uh, what was I saying again?” He scratches his head, unable to remember such fine details such as his own words.

Wibbon recovers from the surprise. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone else was in the front room.” He nods his head, apparently some form of greeting or apology. No one ever bother to ask him exactly what it means. “But you were talking about-”

“Gay!” the man-corgi screams out. “You’re so gay because you’re gay! My manhood is also super big.”

Wibbon shakes his head. It has proven to be impossible for anyone to converse with this recent arrival without him screaming “gay”. Somehow, the man-corgi still maintains he’s straight, mildly reminiscent of the capybara’s earlier days.

The ninth member walks out of the room and to the dorm rooms. The lair’s idiot proceeds to get into an argument with his own reflection in the glass, but no one cares.

“Poor fool,” he says under his breath. “I wonder if he still thinks that Laddo is actually-”
“Hey, are you talking to yourself?”

Wibbon turns to see the new voice, one he never heard outside of the city walls before. He appears human. In fact, he appears normal… except for the visor sunglasses. The man leans against the wall in an attempt to look cool to whoever happens to be in the area.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there. What is your name?”
He lowers his voice and gives in a slight growl. “Call me Triclops.”
“Oh, so you’re that guy with three eyes? I guess that’s why you’re wearing those glasses inside, with only an oil lamp for light.”
“Oh, yeah. That’s me.” He points at his chest for emphasis. “I think I’ve seen you before somewhere…”
“I’m the one who you randomly claimed plagiarized stuff and rated my storygame a 1/8 to be an asshole.”
“You’re right! Good times.”
“You still haven’t changed that rating.”
“Oh, I’ll go do that now.”

He walks down the hallway but stops at the vending machine. The pretty lights has stolen all other thoughts from his mind (which does exist and probably is better than the average CYStian, unlike the man-corgi’s).

Before Wibbon walks off to yet another part of the lair to waste time, he hears faint noises, high pitched and speaking in a different language. He also hears grunting, male but not necessarily masculine. The ninth member follows the sounds to a door. The sign reads, “Digit’s Super Kawaii Room.” Shuddering at what’s going on behind closed doors, Wibbon knocks first.

“C-coming!” the tiny Arizonan Mexican squeals. Wibbon taps his foot as Digit’s breathing slows down. After another minute, the door opens. Inside, some colorful cartoon plays on the computer screen. Wibbon diverts his eyes from the screen before he sees something not suitable for God-fearing crusader. He stares at the floor, a floor which’s inexplicably covered in socks.

“How’s your storygame going?” he asks the teen who’s face slowly looses the red in its checks.
“Oh, um…” He sweatdrops, something only Digit can do since he’s a no-good weeb. “Um… ask me later. I’m doing some… soul searching right now.” He slams the door. The squeaky voices squeal again and the male but not masculine grunting noise fills the air.

Wibbon turns to the next door. A small ray of light seeps through the doorway, since Steve never bothered to shut his own door. Thus, he closes it to keep the pure love for Ireland out. Last time it did, they had to scrub the entire lair with bleach and have an Anglican preacher dude exorcise the place.

Still, the man peaks inside… He shuts the door immediately. Who would put bugs in those areas? Perverse. Plus, who watches all of that on a giant flat screen TV? Backwards Brit haters… Only now does Wibbon realize Steve’s grunting.

He moves to the next room and smiles. Even though the guy is more narcissistic than Narcissus, he’s a fellow crusader. There’s no way he’s… From behind the door, Ebon’s grunts in pleasure. “Was zum Teufel?” he whispers to himself. “Not the paladin too.”

He opens the door without warning. Ebon finishes pulling up his pants and drops his mirror to the ground.

“Gosh darn it, Wibs!” he bellows. “Why the heck would ya’ break into my room like that? Ya’ nearly scared the livin’ daylights outa me.” (Even though he has moved to the best state ever, the paladin still has some unfortunate linguistic carryovers from living in Jimmy Carter’s state.)
“What were you doing in here?”
He shakes his head. “Of course you and your’s stupid brain ain’t gonna figure that out. I was puttin’ on some pants and checkin’ my teeth if any of my eighty dollar steak was still in there.”

Wibbon nods his head slowly and back out of the room. As long as he makes no sudden noises or moves, everything should be fine. If it works with wild animals, it has to work with Ebon, right? He closes the door, the grunting starts once again. “I really hope he’s now taking off those skinny jeans,” he says to himself.

“Wibbon! Gay whore Wibbon!” shouts the man-corgi.
“Yeah?”
The panting creature jumps up and down in joy. “Look! The penguin guy and Steve are arguing!” He points down the hall.

At the end of the corridor stands their token furry friend, a penguin furry to be precise. Other than his normal tuxedo attire, he now wears a green leprechaun’s hat.

“I’m Steve!” he shouts in an Australian accent. “I like fat chicks, furries, and religion. Also, fuck you, Sent!”
“I told you they’re arguing, gay Wibs,” the idiot whispers as he craps himself in utter, orgasmic glee.

The penguin wearing a hat steps behind the corner in the hallway. After a second, it emerges again. This time, it doesn’t wear the hat any more.

“I, Sent and definitely not Steve, do not like being insulted. Take that back, Steve!” He steps behind the corner.
He jumps out, wearing a hat. “Never! Steve, um, I mean I would never take back an insult. Also, I’m making a goat dating sim about the merits of the Second Amendment!”

The man-cogri raises his hand and jumps up and down like a child. “Oh! Can I beta read! Please?”

Wibbon runs away before more of his brain cells die. He doesn’t stop running until he’s outside the lair once again.

Wiping the sweat (hopefully it’s sweat) from his brow, he muses to himself one last time, “And still the lair has only the brightest members of CYStia in it. Dang.”

“Talking to yourself again?” booms a deep, foreboding voice. “You might want to seek some help.
You’re supposed to be the boring member, Wibbons.” The clouds overhead turn to thunderstorms. The flowers nearby wither and die. Crows call out to nothing in particular. He must be in a good mood right now.

“Nah, I’ll be fine, oh Great Dark Lord… Is there any chance I could ever get your shiny user trophy?”
“No.”
“Oh… Um, what have you been doing today?”
“Had some fun over at Ford’s clubhouse.”

Wibbon looks over the shoulder of the god of death. A pillar of smoke rises to the heavens over Ford’s little handout zone.

He smiles. “Cool beans!”

I see we have another setting change. 

Anyway, this wasn't bad, but there are definitely a few... odd choices implemented here. I'll start with what I liked. 

...

Okay, now moving on to what I didn't like. First off, (and I know you wrote this entirely in the moment) I'm immediately wondering what Wibbons is even doing. Sure, checking into the lair to see what's going on is normal, but what is going on with the intrusiveness? Pretty much the entire story is you walking from door to door, opening the door, seeing what the occupant is doing, then leaving. There's no real explanation for this, and is clearly used to take free shots at the other villains. Come now Wibbons, at least try to have a bit more tact than that. Like, at the very least weave the insults into the story, (and it doesn't look like there is much of a story anyway. Pro Tip: even short stories should follow the five step story structure outline)

Now I don't really care about my portrayal here: It was a given you were going to insult me for the sake of insulting me. What does surprise me, however, is your portrayal of Corgi. I mean sure, I understand him having a dog head, but I'm fairly certain nobody sees him as the idiot in the Villain Lair. I had the slightest of problems with him when he was first invited, (which is gone now) but the lengths you go to make Corgi seem like a complete buffon is kind of appalling ngl. It came across to me like you were just trying to get back at him for insulting you in the lair constantly, by publicly slandering him. And I know inaccurate insults are expected in these, but Corgi's mis-portrayal just seemed extremely odd to me this go around. 

The writing wasn't bad itself, but it was kinda everywhere. Your pacing was off, and there were some sentences that could have definitely been structured better. Also, I think part of the problem is that you just tried too hard to fit in as many jokes as possible, but that's a quantity vs quality problem. More or less, easily solved. There is, however, a clear difference between this and your other writing. So there's that. 

Despite my joke from earlier, I did actually like the parts about End. The opening bit about him massacring Ford's server gave me a smile...which disappeared as the entire middle portion was read, but was brought back when I read the closing bit about End and the user trophy. 

It wasn't terrible, but it could definitely used the following: a plot, a better joke ratio, revising, and it would probably do you some good to at least mention IAP and Axiom.