Collapsing, AZ—After thirty-three failed suicide attempts, the creature known as the Frankenstein Monster was admitted to a local acute psychiatric unit over the weekend. When asked why he had tried to light his whole body on fire, encase himself in ice, and watch the entire Jersey Shore series on Netflix while eating buckets of habanero chicken wings, the monster had this to say…
“It isn’t fair. I’ve been around longer than Dracula for Christ’s sake, but I get no publicity anymore. I thought things might be turning around when Deniro played me in that movie, but apparently that was just a dead flesh in the pan. And since then, nothing.
Hell, I could hang with the Vampires and Werewolves back in the day, but it’s really this zombie popularity that pisses me off the most. What do you think I am? I’m a walking corpse, that’s what. Should I have eaten that little girl’s brain before I tossed her into the well? What’s a dead guy gotta do? My agent kept telling me, ‘Don’t worry, Franky. Don’t worry, Franky.’ Now I don’t even have an agent as I threw him into a well.”
These days everybody loves serial killers. How about I just kill a few hundred screen writers and maybe then I’ll get some attention? I could already be half zombie, half serial killer. No, really, I’m made of parts from like seventeen people.”
Then the fierce creature grew quiet.
“Hey, are you going to finish that donut? Do you have anything with cream in them? These are kind of dry.
“No,” I said.
“And don’t even get me started on these new Vampires,” he continued. “I remember fighting those blood suckers while making that movie with Abbott and Costello. Now those guys were funny, not like you jerks at the Discord. In the old days, Vampires were evil nasty things. They’d tear out your throat and make you scream in terror. Well, not in that order. The screaming generally happened before the throat tearing out part. Today vampires are heart throbs? Hello? They don’t have hearts, people! I feel like I’m in the Twilight all right, the Twilight Zone! How did vampires morph into these sexy sensitive types that shimmer in the daylight and want to date virgins? I blame Anne Rice for that shit. I want to see Less-stat. If you ask me, you should have stuck with porn, girlfriend. Oh, and if I get my hands on that Stephanie Meyer, bitch, I’ll eat her brain and throw her down a well.”
When I asked Franky what his future plans were, he replied. “Well, for one, I intend to start eating people. Not because I like the taste, but it just seems to be all the craze these days. I’m also going to try to be more sensitive. Do you think they’d let me go to high school? I never did get my degree. Oh yeah, I’m also going to say brains a lot, use Rogaine all over my body to grow some furry hair, maybe get those Goth dental implants that look like vampire fangs. And let’s not forget my mass murder angle. I figure, if I cover all the bases, they’ll have to like me again, right?”
When I mentioned he had forgotten about Aliens, killer cyborgs, and giant radioactively enlarged bugs, Frankenstein wore a very long face. He’s always like that, really.
So I said, “Hey, let’s not forget about Frankenhooker.” I was just trying to cheer him up, but, in retrospect, this was a big mistake. He immediately grabbed my arm and threw me into a well. Thankfully, he forgot to eat my brain. Now I’m forced to write this entire article on my cell phone. Hey, but his agent’s down here and says they need him for I, Frankenstein, coming out later this year. Would someone please tell him? It’s a comedy. But just don’t mention the word Frankenhooker.