Frankenstein & Igor

Yes, the long nights of body snatching and grave robbing had come to their conclusion. The body was complete. Doctor Von Frankenstein had pieced together an entire human body and was now about to thrust life upon it. The storm was reaching its peak of intensity, the lightening throwing momentary shadows across the room as its blinding light poured forth from the opened ceiling. The macabre instruments were checked and re-checked. All was in readiness. The blood raced to Frankenstein’s head. His heart pounded with a fervor that the doctor never imagined could exist. He reached for the main switch. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.

“Igor,” cried the doctor, “who ever it is, send them away!”

The hunchback limped off with his obligatory “Yes, master” and proceeded down the winding staircase. A few moments later he returned with Lester, the town’s baker.

The doctor looked up in surprise. “I thought I told you to send whoever it was away.”

“He was quite insistent about seeing you, master,” Igor croaked as he pulled Lester’s hands from around his throat.

“All right then, what is it?”

Lester, attempting to remain casual, wandered about the lab as he spoke. “About this monster you have here, especially in regard to the brain…”

“I have no time for this piffle, that was Igor’s department,” Frankenstein said, taking the test tube Lester was shaking from him. “What’s the problem?”

“He took my brain for this!” Lester answered, striking the monster on the head with his riding crop for emphasis.

“Don’t do that, you’ll get him mad!”

“How? It’s not even alive.”

“It might remember.”

“The only thing this oversized erector set will remember is how to make eclairs.” Lester was angry. Frankenstein hadn’t seen Lester lose his temper since his whipped cream curdled at the Festival of the New Wine. “It’s my brain and I want it back. Do you know that six customers walked into my bakery today and asked for brownies and I didn’t even know what they were talking about? I had to look up the word. How does that look, a baker looking up the word ‘brownie?'”

Igor was pacing and understandably anxious. He was limping in both legs, having again forgotten which was the bad one.
“The right,” Frankenstein said and Igor adjusted appropriately. “Did you take Lester’s brain?”

“I didn’t think he’d notice. I mean it’s not like he uses it or anything. Have you ever discussed politics with him? Or current events? The man’s a feeb. I thought I’d be doing him a favor.”

“Favor? You call ruining by love life a favor?”

“I only took your brain.”

“Where do you think I keep the girl’s phone numbers? The addresses? The techniques? In my spleen?”

“You should get a little black book.”

“I haven’t had a date in a week, I’m very lonely and at this point prone to violence, shorty. How would you like me to snap you into shape?”

Frankenstein spoke, “Igor, I distinctly told you to get Dr. Heinzman’s brain. Why did you take his?”

“Well, I went there and Heinzman wasn’t home. His maid said he’d gone spelunking.”

“I bet I knew what that word meant before he took my brain.”

“Shut up and keep away from that beaker. What happened then?”

“Well,” Igor continued, “You said you were in a rush and I saw Lester’s light on, so I went in. He wasn’t using his brain so I took it.”

“What do you mean I wasn’t using it?” Lester reached for Igor, but Igor quickly stepped behind the electro-desprizifier.

“Don’t deny it,” Igor said from behind the juke box-like device, “I saw you. You were watching professional wrestling.”

“Oh, jeez! One time you catch me with a little mindless entertainment and you swipe my gray matter. Where were you when I was watching ‘Masterpiece Theater?’ or the Discovery Channel, huh? No, one time I watch ‘Smackdown’ and now I don’t even know how many are in a baker’s dozen. I ought to apply severe pressure to your eardrums. And you doctor, how’s a little malpractice suit sound to you?”

“Oh, well, let’s not get excited. A little mistake was made which can easily be remedied.”

Suddenly there came the rising cries of a frenzied mob outside the castle. Dr. Frankenstein peered out the high-arched window and there before him was the populous of the small village. Torches and sickles in hand, the lederhosen-clad townsfolk approached the tower.

“Where’s my liver, Frankenstein?” yelled one villager.

“Yeah, what about my colon?” another screamed. Hundreds of people crying out for internal organs rushed the tower and battered down the door. They charged up the stairs and with Lester showing them where, the villagers headed towards the lifeless hulk and began tearing at it in a spirit reminiscence of a cold cut platter at a wedding reception. With all but one organ claimed, the villagers left the structure, an appeased crowd.

“Well, Igor, three years work, three years experimentation, three years sweating and what do I have to show for it?” He held out the remaining organ. “All gone but this.” He examined the organ a moment. “Just where did you get this anyway?”

“All work and no play, Doc so I didn’t think you’d notice. And it did save me a trip…”