Once upon a time in the Scottish Highlands, there wis a mad scientist called Dr. MacFrankenstein, who had a fascination fur electricity an’ deed bodies. It wis only a matter o’ time before he thought o’ puttin’ the two thegether, an’ sure enough, that’s what he did. He’d been diggin’ up bodies fur a while, tryin’ tae bring them back tae life, wi’ nae luck. An’ he wis daein’ experiments wi’ lightnin’ – nature’s electricity – tae see if he could make a candle light wi’ it’s power. Nae luck there either. He wis right pissed off an’ wis just aboot tae give up the scientist lark, when he hud the idea tae blooter a deed body wi’ lightnin’ an’ try tae put power intae it tae get it goin’ again. Kind a’ like a jump start, ye know. But he couldnae decide whit deed body tae use. So he hud a look at his collection an’ decided tae take the best bits fae each one, and make a right top-o-the-range model.
He bolted on the heid and sewed the neck just tae be sure it widnae come aff, an’ he geed him a big strong body, long arms, piano player’s hands – aye, A’m no wantin’ any misunderstandin’s – wi’ long delicate fingers, an’ big feet so he widnae fall over. When aw the bits were joined thegether, he dressed him in the best o’ gear: A nice designer tee shirt wi’ a rude logo, a MacFrankenstein Tartan kilt, but it wis too short fur him, an’ Snugg boots fur tae keep his feet warm an’ tae make sure they didnae come away fae the ankles. He watched the weather forecast fur days, waitin’ fur a stormy night wi’ lots o’ lightnin’, and sure enough it wis predicted fur the Friday night. So he got his assembled body on tae a table an’ hooked it up wi’ wires, tae an aerial ootside the window, fur tae conduct the electricity. It’s a pity he hudnae thought o’ that fur his hoose, wi’ the price rises fae they energy companies. When the lightnin’ struck the aerial, a whackin’ great streak o’ electricity shot doon the cable like Coca Cola shootin’ oot a shooken bottle, an’ jolted the body lyin’ there like a side o’ beef on the table.
‘Are ye still deed or whit?’ Dr. MacFrankenstein asked his creation.
But there wis nae answer. He poked him in the eye wi’ his finger but there wis nae response. Noo, as luck wid have it, there wis another bolt o’ lightnin’ that struck the aerial and shot doon intae the body like a hit fae a fix, and the deed body came tae life. Well, Dr. MacFrankenstein wis beside himsel’ wi’ joy, an’ relief, fur he wis gonnie huv tae build a massive big wind turbine in his garden if the lightnin’ idea didnae work.
‘Ur ye awright?’ he asked, as the body got up fae the table. ‘Jesus Christ, yer awfie big!’ says he tae it, when he saw the size of it. It wis seven feet tall an’ as broad as a sideways tunnel.
‘Naw Am’ no awright,’ says the monster. ‘Ma heid’s nippin’ an’ a feel aw mixed up.’
‘Aye, ye would right enough,’ says Dr. MacFrankenstein.
The monster hobbled over tae the full length mirror that the scientist hud in the corner o’ his laboratory, fur Dr. MacF wis a vain bastard and quite handsome wi’ it, an’ he looked intae the mirror. Well, did he no jump back wi’ fright.
‘Aagh! Who the fuck is that?’ shouts he.
‘It’s you,’ says Dr. MacFrankenstein.
The monster looked doon and touched the swanky sporran on his wee short kilt. ‘Naw it’s no, this is me!’ He patted his chest tae reassure himsel’ that he wis there an’ the other guy wis in front of him. ‘Who’s that?’ says he, pointin’ tae the mirror.
‘It’s you. It’s yer reflection,’ says the scientist.
‘Ma whit?’ says the monster.
‘That’s a mirror an’ it shows ye whit ye look like.’
‘It cannie be real,’ says the monster. ‘Anybody as hackit as that wid crack a mirror.’
Just at that very moment, the mirror cracked an’ the monster jumped wi’ fright again. Dr. MacFrankenstein wis fair worried that he’d made a giant wimp, an’ thought aboot callin’ him MacFearty. Mind you, the monster wis an awfie sight, as ugly as a bulldog wi’ a face full o’ bee stings. He wis better lookin’ in the broken mirror. He stepped closer tae take a better look at himsel’. It’s just as well he wisnae vain, but he wisnae blind either.
‘Fur fuck sake!’ says he. ‘Could ye no huv taken some sewin’ lessons before ye stitched me up?’
‘Did ye want yer heid wobblin’ aboot geein’ ye sea sickness?’ says Dr. MacFrankenstein.
‘Who the fuck are you anyway?’ says the monster.
‘I am your creator,’ says the scientist proudly.
‘Whit? Ye mean, like God?’
‘Aye, ye could say that noo,’ says he.
‘Well A’m prayin’ fur a new coupon,’ says the monster. ‘An’ legs wi’ less hair an’ nae knobbly knees.’
‘That prayin’ carry on is a waste o’ time, it disnae work,’ says Dr. MacFrankenstien. ‘Besides, beauty is in the eyes o’ the beholder.’
‘Well get me the beholder’s eyes pronto,’ says he.
‘Ye look no bad tae me,’ says Dr. MacFrankenstein. ‘A wee while ago ye were deed, and now look at you!’
‘A’m no lookin’ at masel’ again, A’m an ugly bastard an’ A’m getting’ fair upset,’ says he. ‘A’ve got emotional issues.’
‘Fur Christ sake,’ says the scientist, ‘how did Ah huv tae pick a sensitive bastard’s brain fur this clown?’
‘Whit wis that ye called me?’ says the monster.
‘Aw nothin’, son. Yer awright. Calm doon.’
But the monster didnae calm doon. He staggered towards his creator, wi’ his arms oot in front o’ him, tears blindin’ him cos he wis right flabbergasted at bein’ such a hideous sight.
‘A’m gonnie kill ye,’ he roared. ‘All never get a burd lookin’ like this.’
‘Yer a genuis!’ shouts Dr. MacFrankenstein. ‘A’ve just thought o’ somethin’! Ye cannie kill me the noo, or A’ll no be able tae make ye a wife.’
‘Whit’s a wife?’ says he, aboot tae strangle the wee man that put him thegether like a squashed bag o’ Liquorice Allsorts.
‘Ye know, a wuman. A female version o’ yersel’, only no quite as hackit.’
‘Wid she fancy me?’ asked the monster.
‘Aye,’ says Dr. MacFrankenstein. ‘Christ, A’ll huv tae make her half blind an’ hide her glasses,’ thought he.
‘Aye awright,’ says the monster. ‘Whit’s ma name, by the way?’
‘Well seein’ as Ah made ye, ye’re like ma son, so tae speak. So yer name’s MacFrankenstein.’
‘It’s a pity Ah don’t take after ye, Dad, wi’ yer good looks an’ clever brain,’ says MacFrankenstein.
‘Aye, well ye widnae want tae be like me, son. A’ve nae wife, nae pals, an’ nae electricity in the hoose. An’ ma hobbies are a bit iffy.’
‘Hurry up an’ make me a wuman,’ says MacFrankenstein. ‘Ah need a cuddle, A’m feelin’ a bit insecure.’
‘Fur fuck sake,’ muttered Dr. MacFrankenstein, as he went oot tae look fur some deed wumen’s bodies.
Two weeks later, MacFrankenstein hud a wuman companion.
Noo, I’d like tae tell you they all lived happily ever after, but it didnae work oot that way. Mrs. MacFrankenstein wis a bully wi’ particularly bad PMT, and MacFrankenstein hud a nervous breakdown cos she wis aye upsettin’ him. After the breakdown MacFrankenstein had a personality disorder, turnt intae a murderer, and strangled Dr. MacFrankenstein wi’ the wire he’d used tae zap the electricity intae him. Sick o’ candle light an’ cookin’ wi’ gas, Mrs. MacFrankenstein signed up wi’ aw the power companies at the one time, an’ blew the hoose up.