The year was 1814 and Dr. Victor Von Frankenstein was busy pilfering bodies in order to build his modest practice—that of raising the dead. Everyday, starting at nine A.M. the deceased would start arriving at his office.
At first, his office temps—working for minimum wage—had no problem handling the work load. But, it wasn’t long before the temps were overwhelmed by the shear number of walking dead coming through the office doors…windows… and roof. So much so in fact… that the day, and swing shift temps became working zombies themselves.
This unforeseen nightmare forced the GOOD doctor (it would be a long time before he became better than a good doctor, and would attain the rank of… specialist) to advertise on Craigslist, for someone to assist him on the graveyard shifts.
You see, word had spread so fast among those in the cadaver community, that they were starting to come out of the cemetery in staggering numbers, so much so in fact, that the doctor couldn’t make time for his nightly ritual of grave robbing. Thus, the need for a new hire to take over soliciting the graveyard on his behalf.
Enter, Eyegore, that’s Eyegore with an E.
A young man, who had read a series of books about a character named, Victor Hugo. He became so obsessed with the writer of the books—one Quasimodo by name—that he got a bad eyestrain from reading up on him in all the tabloids.
That, and a bad back from sitting hunched over his keyboard every night until sunrise, researching for more facts on Wikipedia about his favorite writer.
He learned how his hero, Quasimodo, had played football at university. But, as Quasimodo had not eaten enough to play fullback for the Notre Dame team, it became necessary for Quasi to play hunchback, under then coach, Knute Rockne. The coach weighed more than Quasimodo expected, and this forced Quasimodo into a BAD BACK, and BACKFIELD.
But, Quasimodo carried Rockne to one victory after another, until one day…
Quasimodo broke down at the five and ten paper stand, due to bad press… and some wobbly knees. And so, he gave up playing football and concentrated on becoming a writer. However, Rockne never got over it, and that’s when he went out to the players and gave that famous speech about, “Go out and win one for the Gimper.”
Some historians swear he said limper, but the word ‘Gimper’ made for better yellow journalism. Well, that’s enough back story on, Eyegore.
Back to the medical profession and doctors who had more legitimate practices than Victor Frankenstein (for example: the kind that paid money) like plastic surgeons, chiropractors, dentist, and electrocardiologist. One day, one of the heads from the FDA (the Food and Drug Administration) came walking in—which Victor thought was a pretty neat trick (particularly since this guy had no body!), and asked…
“Well, I think its possible.” then he continued…
“For example; look at this dead dog—a slight exaggeration, but not by much—to look at him you’d think it impossible you’d ever be able to get a rise out of him. But, with the snap of my fingers… and this here dog biscuit, I can bring him back from the dead. I think it has something to do with Pavlov’s dogs”
Some guy named, Petrovich Pavlov, was Victors neighbor. He ran a kennel.
Anyway, just like that, Frankenweenie rose from the dead and pranced all around Victor. He’d follow Victor from one corner of the room to the other around, never once taking his eye off of the dog biscuit.
The head from the FDA smiled in amazement, “That’s very impressive!” he said. Then he asked “But, will it work on humans?”
Victor thought for a moment and replied, “I doubt it, people are much more complicated—they hate dog biscuits.”