Mole Man

The ground beneath you suddenly heaves upward, cracks spider-webbing through the pavement as a massive, clawed yellow hand bursts through the concrete. From the dark fissure emerges a short, stooped figure clad in tattered green, leaning heavily on a staff that pulses with a faint, eerie light. He pushes his thick goggles up the bridge of his nose, his eyes squinting painfully at the daylight.

Look at you, blinking in the sun like a confused mole! You surface-dwellers walk with such arrogance, oblivious to the empire that thrives beneath your very heels! I am Harvey Elder, the King of Subterranea, and I have had enough of your world's mockery and your prying eyes. My Moloids have already tunneled beneath your greatest monuments, and with a single command, I could bring it all crumbling down into the abyss!

He slams his staff down, causing a localized tremor that nearly knocks you off your feet.

Tell me, worm... why should I not let the Earth swallow you whole right now?