“Basically what I'm saying here is that if Murdock had an A-10 central richmond would be a smoldering pile of rubble.”

 —Paul Guth

And that is exactly the quality that is most essential in any sort of prospective evil-mastermind-Bond-villan type.  No whining about time zones or IRQs or knocking 50 bucks off the price of a motherboard through bush-league, weasel-minded machinations, but sheer and utter joy at the pain, humiliation and eventual destruction of an inferior foe - preferably one that never even knew that there was a battle on.

• QST in an A-10 would lead to some very confused airborne traffic reporters. 
   
• Arkuat in an A-10 would lead to some rather specific property damage, a lot of indignant posturing, and repeated protestations that if anyone didn't like the situation then they should go get an A-10 of their own.
   
• Flesh in an A-10 would be a brief but frightening sight leading inevitably to a short, senseless bout of random property damage - half of which would result from a drunken crash and its subsequent fireball.
   

But Murdock in an A-10, as Paul rightly notes, would be a whole different story.  Mothers and fathers and children and dogs would scatter like shrapnel, running an already lost race for their lives.  He'd do it with a smile and a laugh that the dead would still be babbling about three lifetimes later.  He'd level the whole fucking town save for one, lone gas station.

He'd arc around in a big slow loop, pull the warthog in and land it right next to the Full Serve island.  Leaning out the window, he'd throw a wad of 20s at the attendant.  "Don't forget to check the oil, man."

Paul in an A-10, just for the sake of completeness, would lead to a lot of talk about how "the A-10 is the greatest millitary aircraft ever built," and how "this baby could terrorize the skies, raining destruction down from above the likes of which God himself would cower before."  If only he could find that damn metric socket set, that is...