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Oct. 16, 2004 Igor was guarding the door. That wasn't his usual job so Frankie knew something was up. Igor usually spent his time on the graveyard shift in the graveyard. Look Frank, you can't go in. The Doc and the Count are in conference. Conference? But we're just over two weeks from the big day. I need to know what they have planned, I need to see the schedule. I have to get ready myself and I wanted to find out where I was supposed to work. Sorry, buddy, you know I'd let you go in if I could. Look, Igor, I need the old bolts tightened, I need a fresh charge, and the old lady wants her hair fixed. I need to get something set up. It's getting late to be throwing a monkey wrench in the works. Hey, I'm with ya big guy, but I've had to tell Wolfie and Old Mum the same thing and and we're hoping nobody shows up from Loch Ness and the Black Lagoon for awhile. As far as the Phantom and Invisible go, well let's just say I haven't seen them. Freddy, Mike and Jason are at each others throats right now and Chuckie's on the DL. But Igor, what's it all about? What can be so important that they can't see me? Look, Frankie, you da man, da BIG man, as a matter of fact several BIG men, but there's a rumor they're working on something scarier and even more horrible. Something even scarier then you.Something which involves bacteria of some kind. That was all Frankie needed to hear. He pushed past Igor and stormed down the hall roaring. Neither ghost, ghoul, creep, nor zombie could stop, much less slow him down. Up ahead he saw the Doc and the Count in the lab bending over a lab table. HIS old lab table! On the table was something sooo horrible, so terrible, so frightening even Frankie let out a blood curdling scream (and rumor had it wet his pants). He turned even more ashen. What is it? It's inhumanly dreadful! You're not going to turn that out on humanity? Nnoooooo. "Don't get your shorts in a twist, old boy" the count said, "we're just doing a brother organization a favour. We're doing Botox treatments on one of their creatures." Frankie looked confused. It's very simple. We got a call. This poor pathetic thing needed a Botox treatment and the clinics were closed before they could get him there. An emergency situation. You're not trying to start an epidemic are you? I hope we're not working with al-Qaeda and the terrorists? No, no, nothing like that. It's something even crazier. We're working with the DNC. You know, Ted Koppell, Dan Rather, Peter Jennings, Whoopi Goldberg, Rosie O'Donnel. A chill went up Frankie's spine and he felt a little nausea. It's too awful to think about. But who, or what is that? Not to worry, Frank old man, I don't think he's going to work. Keeps running his mouth and can't modulate his voice. I don't even understand why they gave him the power of speech. He can't even keep his story straight. He did something, he didn't do something. He makes me dizzy. The Doc rubbed his chin. Personally, I think this was a mistake, a planned mistake, but one none the less. I think the Clintons put this one together. The Clintons? Frankie didn't like the sound of this. But normally what they put together works. True, but we think they have an even more insidious plan for four years down the road. This is just a ploy. A sacrifice play, if you will. Then, that means that poor pathetic thing on the table is...Yes, Frankie, it's John Kerry. Frankie fainted. ------------ About the author: Lee Zelhart is a proud graduate of McKendree College in Lebanon, Illinois and the father of two teens (one of which will be getting married in the next couple of years, maybe sometime in 2006) and the author of The Ghost of the Cavalier due out in 2005. Email: graphicsdoctor1@sbcglobal.net Tell a friend about this site! ------------ |
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