Modern Monsters

Dracula's fingers tightened around The Wolfman's throat. His ancient nails dug into the skin just above the veins in The Wolfman's neck. Dracula could feel the blood in The Wolfman's veins pump faster as The Wolfman's heart began to speed up. Dracula wondered what it might be like to drink The Wolfman's blood, and for a moment he considered it.

"You know this is pointless," The Wolfman barked out through his razor sharp teeth and extended snout, "you can't choke me to death."

"Well," Dracula mused, "maybe not, but it would be fun to try."

Dracula loosened his grip on The Wolfman's throat, but continued, "And it's a big castle, Wolfy-baby, there's bound to be some priceless silver artifact or other that I wouldn't mind tarnishing in order to rid myself of you!"

Dracula chuckled as he let The Wolfman out of his grasp. As The Wolfman regained his composure, Dracula sauntered over to the bar, where Frankenstein was bent over a small pile of cocaine.

The Creature from the Black Lagoon stood there as well, wet and silent. He was obviously trying to squeeze out a fart.

Dracula patted the Creature on the shoulder and he heard the slimy, moist gas slither out of the Creature's insides. Dracula doubted that anyone else heard the fart, for the hounds of hell were being particularly rambunctious tonight.

"This is crazy," Frankenstein('s Monster) observed, as he stared down into his little hill of magic white dust, "the muscle memory, I mean. I mean, like, I've been alive for almost two hundred years in this state. You know, all patched together or whatever. But different parts of me still react differently to different substances, even though the one crazy brain is trying to drive this train."

Dracula raised his pointy eyebrows in curiosity.

"It's like this," The Monster continued, "I'm my own man, right? I make my own decisions based on my own experiences, which are pretty crazy, you know? But genetics play a big part in a person's predisposition to certain ailments, habits, addictions, whatever. And since every part of my body has already experienced a whole life already, I've got some pretty solid and mixed feelings about how to go about all of this, you know?! Like, I think my left leg was a morphine addict. And my arms, they don't work right. Like, I got the right arm of a left handed person and the left arm of a right handed person and the brain of someone who, for all his faults, was ambidextrous. And I'm pretty sure that my right arm belonged to a clergyman of some kind because it feels really wrong when I use it to..."

"Okay, we get it!" Dracula was really not in the mood to let the conversation go down that road.

"Right," Frankenstein looked at Dracula, "I'm just saying, when I do drugs, I really feel conflicted. I've got a lot of different pieces trying to give their input here."

"You're just high," The Wolfman had finally gotten to his feet, "that's how everyone feels."

The rest of the monsters turned to look at The Wolfman.

"Look, can we just calm down here, guys," The Wolfman held his paws out in front of him in a gesture of submission that looked odd coming from such a vicious beast, "Dracula, I'm sorry, okay?"

Dracula straightened up and stared at The Wolfman, waiting for him to continue.

"I didn't mean to delete Breaking Bad off the DVR. I thought we were all done with it. I should have checked with you first."

"Yeah," Dracula shrugged his shoulders and barred his fangs, "fat lot of good 'sorry' does me. Now how am I going to see the last 8 episodes? Netflix? Good luck! The wireless service in the Carpathian Mountains is abysmal!"

"Look Dracula," The Wolfman tried, but Dracula cut him off.

"No," Dracula said, and rolled his eyes, "it's fine. Whatever. I just, you know, I've got the immortality and everything, but I've got to suck blood in order to keep that going, you know? So both of those are huge saps on my good energy. So I try and do good things with all the money and stuff. Like letting you guys stay here..."

There was a general humble grumble from around the room.

"And the charity work and everything," Dracula sighed, "but, you know, sometimes I just want something for me. I just want to come home after a long century of fighting the fight and put my feet up and watch some Bryan Cranston."

Frankenstein looked up. One of his eyes was dilated, probably having never experienced cocaine before, the other seemed to be an old pro, "Hey, man," he quipped, "Why are you getting all pouty? You're f***ing Dracula!"

The Wolfman quickly took the cue, "Yeah, Dracula! Quit being a downer! If the big D can't even be happy, if you get your garlic in a bunch over a stupid show, then what are the rest of us supposed to do, you know? You're the king! If you ain't happy, then what chance do the rest of us have?"

"Yeah, I guess," Dracula still seemed mopey, "I just miss Mina, you know?"

"Dude," Frankenstein was now, indeed, high, "that was, like, a hundred years ago. You're still slouching around over that!?"

"Come on, Dracula!" Wolfman shouted, "let's get out of here and go raise hell like the old days. You know, the all or nothing days. The Monster Squad days! Let's go kill some people! Then on Monday I'll buy you the last 8 episodes, Frankenstein will go cold turkey, I'll get out and go running again. Come on, man. Monday. We'll do it on Monday. For now, let's be monsters."

"I just feel so old and I don't know what to do. How many ways can you kill a virgin, you know?" Dracula let The Wolfman usher him towards the window.

Just then, Nikola Tesla poked his head in the window, which gave everyone a jolt because Tesla is supposed to be dead.

"Hey, dudes," Tesla greeted them like a bolt of lightning, "I hope you're not thinking about going out and messing with the villagers, because that shit ain't cool anymore."

All of the monsters looked at the floor.

Tesla continued, "I know that it was kind of your thing, but you're just going to have to find something else to occupy your time. Do some yoga, read some non-fiction, eat a tomato. Any of you guys into science or positivity? Because that's what's in right now."

Dracula, still looking at the floor, mumbled, "Yeah, I'm just still kind of mad, you know?"

"Dude, I get it, I'm Tesla," everyone noticed that he did not say 'the ghost of Tesla'. "But no one thinks it's cool for you to go around freaking people out anymore. 'Kay?"

Dracula looked at The Wolfman and pointed at Tesla, "See?" he asked.

The Wolfman was at a loss.

"Geez," Tesla broke the silence, "it smells like Lagoon farts in here."

SB
5-30-14