Friday, October 14, 2011

Frightening Friday: Dr. Frankenstein: Dead Body Hoarder

This is the best idea I've ever had. --Dr. Frankenstein









AAAAAAAAAAA!

Oh, it's you. Sorry, you really shouldn't sneak up on me like that. I was just reading this super scary book called Black Beauty. It's all about this talking horse who terrorizes people all over the English countryside with his clip-clopping hoof noises and bloodcurdling whinny.

But you didn't come here to hear about the book I'm reading. "Save it for book club," am I right? You came here for your weekly dose of terror. And, don't worry, I won't let you down. I hope you are as terrified reading this story as I was writing it. It's called...


Dr. Frankenstein: Dead Body Hoarder

If you visit a mall during store hours, there is plenty of people-watching to do. The only problem is that those people will be doing a lot of uninteresting things, like eating stale pretzels and deciding whether or not to return those towels to Macy's. If you sit there too long, you will get really, really bored and wonder why you decided on a boring hobby like people-watching. 

However, if you visit a cemetery late at night, you will find a much better quality of people-watching. Particularly if those people are carrying shovels.

Dr. Frankenstein was one of those people, as he was at the cemetery with a shovel most nights. He had gotten very bored with his original hobby of people-watching and decided to take up people-dismembering. And since live people mind being dismembered, Dr. Frankenstein sought out only dead people--by digging them up.

Now, you're probably asking yourself what Dr. Frankenstein did with the dead bodies once he dug them up and dismembered them properly. And the answer is that he took them home and hoarded them. And if you're wondering if that made his castle smell bad, the answer is yes.

It was lucky he lived in a castle, really. If he'd lived somewhere smaller, like a trailer house or a tent, the bodies really would have stacked up quickly. But because Dr. Frankenstein lived in such a large domicile, he had really only filled one room with his collection so far. And it was the library, and no one ever went in there anyway because the only books Dr. Frankenstein owned were vegan cookbooks.

"Hey," say my vegan readers. "I would have gone in there for vegan cookbooks."

To which I say, "No, you wouldn't have because, remember? Dead bodies."

Now, as you've likely guessed by now, Dr. Frankenstein's body collection really, really bothered his neighbors.

"Those bodies are bringing down the resale value on my house!" said Dr. Frankenstein's next door neighbor.

"I don't feel comfortable raising my children in a neighborhood with a man who only owns vegan cookbooks!" said his neighbor who lived across the street.

"Something must be done!" said a third neighbor, who was just really glad that the focus was off him being a peeping Tom.

"I have an idea," said the next door neighbor. "Let's get torches and pitchforks! And then we'll...tend Dr. Frankenstein's lawn under cover of darkness."

"But what about the bodies?" asked the second neighbor.

"You didn't let me finish," said the first neighbor. "Then, we'll hunt down that maniac...and make him clean his house!"

"Excellent idea," said the third neighbor. "And while you're doing that, I'll go get my binoculars and make sure all the neighborhood women are not in their showers and are, in fact, helping with the cleanup effort."

"And I," said the second neighbor, "will go in search of a clinical psychologist who specializes in hoarding to help Dr. Frankenstein cope."

And so the neighbors went their separate ways in search of torches, pitchforks, cleaning supplies, clinical psychologists, and binoculars.

Three days later, the house was cleaned, the bodies were all safely incinerated at the town morgue, and everyone was happy. Everyone except Dr. Frankenstein, who really missed those dead bodies.

But eventually, with the help of the clinical psychologist, Dr. Frankenstein came to understand that the reason for his hoarding stemmed from bad early childhood memories of his parents selling several of his toys at garage sales. After many months of therapy, he was able to stop hoarding bodies in his library. Instead, he moved them to the basement and began to experiment on them.

THE END.

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