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For all of Loki’s many successful plots, there are a dozen or so more that never make it off the cutting room floor. Perhaps they are too similar to an already fantastically implemented plot (frogs are funny, but pale against the sheer, unsubtle brilliance of snakes) and offer a decaying return on effectiveness. Loki has a reputation to uphold, after all, he cannot imagine a worse outcome than a ‘meh’ response to one of his attacks.
Or, it may be that a plan lacks that particular je ne sais quoi that gives it that special Loki flair. Surprise threats of destruction are so blasé these days, and any trickster worth their grain in salt can deliver those blindfolded, hands chained, and with offensively large hands wrapped around their throats.
Sometimes the plots themselves are brilliant and bold, possessing a threatening hum that sparks creative joy in Loki like nothing else. However, some undefinable element stops them from being truly ready for the world until Loki finds the key to unlock their majesty.
This is not one of those plots. It had masqueraded as one of those plots, fooling Loki into thinking that is should be rescued from his box of delightful bits and bobs and brought forth into the light.
It should have been left in the box and then stabbed. Repeatedly.
“We shall never speak of this again, brother.” The words spill poisonously from Loki’s pursed lips. He flicks his obnoxiously green, damp hair out of his eyes and dares Thor to speak even a word about the flock of very confused sheep that mill around their knees.
Thor doesn’t look horrified. Or fearful. Oh no, this is far worse.
He looks apologetic.
A sheep baas, and Loki shoulders shake in unbridled fury.
“That may be for the best.”