Frankenstein And The Warp In The Space-time Continuum

© 2013 David Jasmin-Green

“Master, come quickly!” Igor said over the intercom as he peeled potatoes in the kitchen of castle Frankenstein.

“What's the matter?” the Baron replied.

“It's something very very very important, so don't lose your temper over my misuse of official Hammer Horror Films equipment and beat me to within an inch of my life with a hazel switch – the intercom is, after all, just a cheap prop made of chicken wire and empty washing up liquid bottles.”

“I invented, built and installed this intercom in every room of the castle for a specific purpose, Igor,” the Baron said. “It is for the Master of the house, which is me, to communicate with my servants whenever I wish, and because of my temporary financial problems the term 'servants' refers to you and you alone. Under no circumstances is an underling, eg you, ever to use this sensitive, mindbogglingly expensive equipment to summon his Master, eg me, for any reason whatsoever - you are not to speak to me over this intercom unless I speak to you first, comprende? This is an outrage! I was busy inventing something in my secret laboratory, but you derailed my train of thought and now I've forgotten what I was doing.”

“Sorry, master.”

“Igor?”

“Yes, Master?”

“You forgot to use a capital letter for the word 'master.'”

“No I didn't, but you did, Master.”

“I did it on purpose as an example to illustrate the error of your ways. I'm the Master, you see, and I can do whatever I like, but you are a mindless peasant and I expect you to do as you're bloody well told. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Master, a thousand apologies, Master.”

“Make sure you don't do it again.”

“I won't, I cross my heart and hope to -”

“Igor?”

“What?”

“Shut up.”

*************************

“Master?”

“Didn't I just tell you not to speak to me on the intercom for any reason whatsoever?”

“Yes, you did, but this is an emergency.”

“What the hell's the matter, man – is the washing machine on the blink? Is the milkman late? Does your potato peeler need sharpening?”

“No, no and quite probably..... Something strange is going on in the back yard. I'm standing by the kitchen sink peeling spuds, and I can see it through the window right now, whatever 'it' is. I'm just a lowly, uneducated servant, master, I don't understand whatever's going on and I'm getting all frightened and confused. You, on the other hand, are a learned man, you're a gentleman and a scholar, a doctor, so you say, and a member of the aristocracy, or so I'm led to believe. I need you to come here straight away and explain the inexplicable to me so that I can get on with my chores, otherwise I'll more than likely stare open mouthed at whatever the thingummy is all day like a demented gibbon, and you and your monster won't get any dinner.”

“I see. Fair enough, I'll be down there as soon as possible. Oh, Igor?”

“Yes, Master?”

“You missed the capital 'm' off 'master' again.”

“So did you, Master, but of course you did it on purpose to illustrate my mistake, and you're the bestest Master ever so you can do whatever you like.”

“Exactly.”

*************************

“I would have gotten here quicker, Igor, but I tripped over the cameraman's power lead on my way out of the shit-house and fell arse over tit. 'Der bollocks undt der oh fuck,' I was supposed to yell as I tumbled, but what actually came out was a squeaky little 'waah!' I'm sick of having cameramen following me everywhere, I'll be glad when this damned film's over so that I can take a dump in peace. By the way, we need bog paper the next time you go to the supermarket. Now what is it that's troubling you?”

“Yonder thingummy is what's troubling me,” Igor said, draping his wet tea towel over the radiator.

“What thingummy? I can't see a thing.”

“The whirling thingummy that appears to be floating in front of yonder shed.”

“I still can't see it, everything further than a few feet away is all blurry and indistinct.”

“That's because you've got your reading glasses on.”

“Aah, so I have. That's better, now let's take a loo – oh, goodness gracious me! What is it?”

“I have no idea, Master, which is why I asked you to have a ganders.”

“It's an, erm, it's a sort of whirling thingummy, a semitransparent spiral something or other floating in front of yonder shed for no apparent reason. Let's have a hearty round of applause for the Special Effects crew for once, folks, I can't see how they could have pulled off a stunt like this with cooking foil, toilet roll tubes, cling film and poster paints. It looks like a miraculously suspended body of water rippled by a shiny pebble hurled with gusto by an innocent schoolboy..... Ooh, look! A sparrow just flew past, and it was sucked into the eye of the vortex – I witnessed it with my own eyes! I reckon we're dealing with a warp in the space-time continuum.”

“You mean like wot they have on Star Trek?”

“I mean exactly like wot they have on Star Trek”

“But what is a warp in the space-time continuum? I'm getting frightened and confused again, I'm turning to jelly in the face of the utterly inexplicable.”

“A warp in the space-time continuum is a bloody great tear in the fabric of time and space, which means that things from this world could unexpectedly be sucked into some alien dimension and weird things from various fantastical alternative realities might just as easily be accidentally transported here.”

“How do we get rid of it, Master?”

“I have no idea, Igor, but I intend to give it some serious thought. I'm going to lock myself in the lab, methinks, and do a bit of contemplating - I have some serious inventing to get on with. Until my triumphant return I want you to sit here, watch what happens and take copious notes. If anything particularly interesting occurs, video it with your Iphone; I know the mobile phone hasn't been invented yet, so if anyone asks pretend I invented it this morning.”

“Yes, Master.”

*************************

The Baron didn't come back for several hours, and his return was far from triumphant. He looked drawn and dejected, he looked pale and haunted as if he was carrying all of the world's problems on his shoulders. “What's the matter, Master?” Igor said, looking up from the open notebook on the kitchen unit, which was full of childish scrawls in luminous orange wax crayon.

“I feel drawn and dejected,” Frankenstein said. “I've just looked in the mirror, and I look decidedly pale and haunted. My back's killing me, it feels like I've been carrying all of the world's problems on my shoulders, except for the overwhelming technical problems involved in building an Anti Warp In The Space-time Continuum Machine. We've run out of cardboard and Sellotape and the Special Effects crew have gone down the pub, so it looks like we're buggered - though I like the world to think I'm way ahead of my time I have to admit that in this case I'm completely stumped. I don't make a very convincing Frankenstein, do I, Igor? I bet Peter Cushing would have known what to do.”

“You're not as good as Peter Cushing, admittedly, but you're doing a fair job as far as I'm concerned. You could do with a steaming hot bath, Master, and maybe you'd benefit from soaking your tootsies in a Clairol Foot Spa for an hour or two. I'll check if foot spas have been invented, and if not you'll have to pretend to invent one. Later on I'll knock out a couple of Tchaikovsky concertos on the old Joanna to relax your frayed nerves while you smoke opium, mainline heroin, chew on your monster's toenails, strangle the odd chaffinch for purely scientific reasons and look pensive. If you like I'll give you a nice massage before we go to bed - separately, of course.”

“Ooh, bliss,” the Baron replied, “but first we have work to do. Did you manage to video anything interesting?”

“I videoed a few interesting scenes, and I made lots of notes, just like you told me to.”

“Excellent! Let's have a butchers.” Frankenstein picked up Igor's phone, and being a learned man he swiftly found the playback and pause buttons. “Scene one,” he said, struggling to read his henchperson's scruffy notes. “'Sheena, moi master wiv a capital M'z sexi monsta, sneeked outta the bak door, vanishd into the warp in the space-time thingummy and cum bak foiv minitz later wiv sumfink intrestin.' Fantastic, Igor. Let's have a look at the clip. Aah..... Do you mind explaining why you've filmed Colin, my prize ram, tupping a bedraggled, well past its sell-by date ewe in yonder field?”

“I dunno. I tried to film your sexy monster sneaking out, vanishing into the vortex and returning with something interesting, but the ram was getting his end away at the same time, so I found it awfully difficult to concentrate.”

“What did the monster bring back?”

“I wasn't paying full attention to tell the truth, I was too busy filming the sheep playing hide the sausage. Hur-hur-hur-hur-hur! Sheena did have something under her arm when she came back indoors, but it was cunningly concealed in a carrier bag.”

“Scene two,” Frankenstein said. “'The warp in the space-time thingummy turned a loorid purple colour and spat out a misteerius creature, wich quickly scampered behind yonda shed.' Lets see this mysterious creature, then. Aah, a close up of the back of Sheena's head as she hangs my clean shirts on the line, how thoughtful of her. I suppose she got in the way, Igor.”

“Yes, Master. Sorry, Master.”

“What did this mysterious creature look like? A hideous monster from another dimension might prove useful in my infernal experiments.....”

“I dunno, I was amusing myself by flicking dry roasted peanuts down Sheena's cleavage at the time. She was wearing a skimpy negligée, I think it was the one you bought her for Christmas.”

“What else did you film?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing at all?”

“No. Yes..... I did try to film the warp thingummy disappearing, but Sheena's truuppenies were hanging out as she reached down into the washing basket, so I filmed that fascinating spectacle instead.”

“I see. I reckon our first step should be to check behind yonder shed, Igor. I happen to have a portable big game net and a loaded stun gun tucked in an inner pocket of my lab coat.”

“Right,” Igor said, stealthily tiptoeing out of the back door behind the Baron.

“The mysterious creature can't possibly escape us as long as you obey my instructions,” Frankenstein whispered. “You go to the left side of the shed and startle it while I ambush it from the right. I can't wait to see the sickening abomination, and I hope to God we can catch it alive - think of the respect that would earn me in scientific circles!” There was a brief scuffle, and then the Baron roared in triumph. “Gotcha, you blasphemous lump of alien snot! Pass me my specs, Igor, I dropped them during the struggle.”

“It's a sheep, Master,” Igor said as he passed the Baron his glasses.

“I didn't know you had a PHD in the bleeding obvious, Igor,” Frankenstein replied.

“It is a pretty horrible sheep, though, I didn't know they had such monstrous sheep in other worlds. Think of the respect it will earn you in scientific circles!”

“Hmmm..... The warp in the space-time continuum seems to have vanished, so we'd better go and question Sheena and find out what she's been up to.”

“Yes, Master.”

*************************

“What do you two wankers want?” the monster said as Frankenstein and his henchperson entered her room.

“Er, nothing, my dear,” Frankenstein said. “We just wondered if you were ready for your dinner.”

“We wanna know what you brought back from the warp in the space-time thingummy,” Igor interrupted, despite the Baron elbowing him viciously in the ribs.

“From the what?”

“We witnessed an anomaly on the back yard in front of yonder shed, my love,” Frankenstein said. “I believe it was some sort of portal between dimensions. Igor informed me that he saw you go outside, and I wondered if you saw anything unusual.”

“The Master caught an abominable sheep that entered our reality from a distant world,” Igor said.

“I ain't seen nuffink,” Sheena grunted as she applied her mascara. “And I ain't been out, apart from nipping out to hang the washing on the line.”

“Listen, Madam,” Frankenstein said, “I've had enough of your childish subterfuge. I know you entered the portal and brought something back from whatever strange world lies on the other side, and you're not getting any pocket money until you hand it over - think how rich and famous the possession of an actual otherworldly artefact would make me in scientific circles!”

“Well seeing a you put it like that I might as well come clean,” Sheena said. “I spotted this semitransparent spiral thing through my bedroom window, so I nipped down to have a look. Igor was playing with his Iphone - he might have been scratching his flea-bite rash but I suspect he was watching peasant porn because he had his hand down his trousers - so I sneaked outside and all of a sudden I was yanked through an invisible inter-dimensional door.”

“What did you see?” Frankenstein yelled, unable to conceal his excitement. “Tell me in inconceivably intricate detail! What manner of beings live there? Are they superior to idiotic humans? What do they want? Do you think they'd help me to rule the universe in return for something that's rare in their world but commonplace in ours, such as cow pats or ignorant peasants?”

“Do they bleat?” Igor added. “Do they like ice cream?”

“I dunno, and that applies to all of your daft questions,” Sheena replied. “The doorway led to the Boots make-up counter on Chigwell High street, so I bought a tube of crimson lippy and some nail varnish remover – see for yourself.”

“Aah,” Frankenstein said. “Just my frigging luck.”