"Foolish air-dwellers!" roared Octrolon Rex, King of the wretched octomen.
His followers clicked their beaks in approval, surrounding Octrolon Rex's hideous underwater pavilion, lit by a thousand captive bioluminescent fish.
"No longer shall we be at the mercy of those who would control the Earth!"
The clicking continued.
"The fools have not yet detected our presence, even after our mind-control ray succeded in forcing their engineers to dislodge their drilling equipment! Their fuel is the blood of their cursed civilization as it dies!"
The clicking reached a crescendo.
Octrolon Rex took his weapon, made of the sharpened edges of scallops embedded in driftwood reminiscent of the Aztec macuahuitl, and was about to cut a forest of ropes that held balloons with bombs attached that would rocket skyward and explode on contact with the air.
Then Octrolon Rex saw a young octopus scuttle past.
"Our time has run out, my brothers!" he said, keeling over, because octopi don't live that long.
The Moral: keep your world domination plans to one step if your lifespan isn't that long