T’ Real Story O’ Frank N Stein

Back in t’ 18th century, wen men wer men an’ women wer reight grateful, there wer this one exception by t’ name o’ Robert Walton, oo bein’ a sailin’ ship captain, wer abaat as camp as a row o’ pink tents. At t’ time o’ this ‘ere  tale,’e wer attemptin’ ter sail ter t’ North Pole...

Nah bein’ dyslexic as well as gay, ‘e wer abaat as gradely at navigation as an epileptic is on skates - so appen it wer aalmost inevitable that t’ muppet gets ‘is ship stuck in pack-ice ‘undreds o’ miles fra onny land. O’ course aal ‘is men ‘ad tried theyer very best ter get t’ ship free like, but it wer frozzen as tight as a fleas arse’ole. So aal they cud do wer hunker daan an’ wait f’ t’ spring thaw!

Wi’ bugger aal else ter do ‘till then like, Captain Walton decides ter write ter ’is sister back in blighty, hopin’ ‘is letters wud aat last ‘im if ‘e nivver med it off t’ ice. Appen tis coz o’ ‘is scribblings that this story can nah be told.

Most o’ wot ‘e wrote cud ‘ave bored t’ balls of a buffalo, but t’ gist o’ it wer that ‘e wer desperate f’ a male friend ter keep ‘im warem at neight - t’ current ship’s crew bein’ beneath ‘is lofty standards an’ well past their sell by dates. Appen wi such rope-worn rough ‘ands, they wer a bit too butch f’ ‘im anaal.

Then one blizzard struck atternoon, Captain Walton’s despair wer interrupted by t’ inexplicable sight o’ a man, aat on t’ ice, riding a dog-sled! Needin’ a natural comfort break like, t’ stranger steers f’ t’ ship, an’ soon is on board, cadgin’ a Jaffa Cake an’ a cup o’ Yorkshire Tea ter warm ‘is frozzen assets. Walton wer reight ecstatic like – believin’ ‘is silent prayer f’ a new chum ‘ad cum true.

Several days wi aat rest travellin’ by dog sled, ‘ad left t’ man terribly frost-bitten; an’ having jus’ left half his arse stuck t’ sled, it took an additional 2 bottles o’ t’ captain’s finest rum an’ a rub daan wi warmed whale blubber ter thaw t’ pooar bugger aat enuf  f’ ‘im ter tell ‘is story. Unsurprisingly, Captain Walton took t’ latter duty upon issen.

T’ stranger’s name wer: Frank N Stein. A reight nob fra Geneva. Comin’ fra a long line o’ bankers (wot allegedly started wi t’ bloke oo nicked Judas’s 30 pieces o’ silver) Frank wer born into a life o’ immense privilege. ‘e nivver ‘ad ter scrimp an’ save f’ owt. Ivverything in ‘is early life wer handed ter ‘im on a plate. Appen ‘is parents even went s’ far as ter adopt a young lass named Elizabeth - so ‘e ‘ad sum one ter marry wen ‘e wer older – a rare an’ precious gift indeed! She wer a reight gud sooart an’ a proper bobby dazzler too! So reight fra t’ off, ‘is life seemed aal laid aat an’ assured!

As ‘e got a bit older, off ‘e goes ter college ter study philosophy, chemistry, alchemy an’ aal t’ other sciences. Theyer, ‘e not only excelled but quickly surpassed t’ knowledge an’ skills o’ ‘is tutors an’ professors! So much so that ‘e wer given t’ nickname o’ Frank Einstein.

‘e particularly liked biology an cuttin’ up cadavers, an’ puttin’ em back together agayen - an extention o’ an old childhood habit wot started wi ‘action-men’ dolls an’ moved on ter mooare complicated things such as ‘is grandad’s old time-piece or frogs fra pond. Sum times ‘e’d even swap parts araand jus’ f’ t’ fun o ‘it. An ter keep issen amused whilst workin’, ‘e’d sing a little ditty whilst practisin’ t’ various knots an’ stitchin’s. “Tha puts t’ right arm ‘ere, t’ left arm theyer....”. Atter abaat two years ‘e’d even figured aat ‘ow ter bring a body med up o’ pieces o’ different human corpses, back ter life! In shooart, e wer a reight gifted smart-arse wi t’ whole world at ‘is finger tips. 

Abaat this same time, young Frank wer experimenting wi ‘is own sexuality, an’ hadn’t yet decided which side ter bat fooar. ‘e’d enjoyed playin’ “Doctors an’ Nurses” wi Elizabeth, an’ fettling her on a number o’ occasions too – so ‘ad given serious thowatt ter becomin’ a gynecologist - but sum wayer in t’ back o’ ‘is noggin, a nagging voice told ‘im ‘e wer missin’ aat on summat. So one fateful night, atter far too monny flagons o’ Absinth, ‘e decided ter mek issen a man!

Accordin’ t’ narrative told in ‘is later letters, appen at this point Robert Walton fell off ‘is captains stool wi excitement, tho t’ bulge in ‘is moleskins nearly didn’t.

Not satisfied wi mekin’ jus’ onny man, Frank N Stein wanted ter mek a man’s man. A big bugger! T’ kind wot jus’ dared thee t’ kick sand in ‘is face. So ‘e set aat ter create an adonis o’ gigantic stature, abaat eight feet in height, 3 shovel handles across t’ shoulders an’ proportionately large ivvery wayer else anaal. Appen atter havin’ formed this determination, ‘e spent chuffin’ months securing an’ preparing aal t’ materials an’ body parts required. Neight atter neight, ‘e addled until t’ wee ‘ours, missin’ aat on meals an’ slowly mekin’ ‘imsen ill in t’ process. So ironically, as ‘is masterpiece took shape like, ‘is own neglected body decayed! But atter monny months o’ toil, one dark an’ stormy neight (ter be precise it wer November t’ 4th  - Mischief Night) Frank N Stein wer ready! 

‘e stood theyer nervously laikin’ pocket billiards an’ waited f’ lightening ter strike t’ yowge weather vane ‘e’d errected on t’ roof -  an f’ electricity ter stream daan thru a set o’ industrial jump leads in ter ‘is creation, via bolts inserted on either side o’ its neck. ‘e knew t’ hewmunguss power o’ jus’ one lightnin’ strike, wud be enuf ter give life ter ‘is dream man!

So ‘e waited. An ‘e waited. An ‘e waited sum mooare. Then ‘e waited aal ova agayen. Aal araand ‘im t’ storm raged wi aat striking t’ weather vane once. ‘e wer gettin’ reight niggley an wer jus’ abaat ter sod off wen BOOOOOM it appened! ‘is hair stood on end as blue sparks an’ smoke filled t’ room, along wi t’ smell o’ roasted cat. Pooar Lucky, ‘is faithful moggy ‘ad silently padded in ter ‘is laboratory jus’ at t’ wrong moment!

Frank N Stein stood theyer wi bated breath, ‘is gob oppenin’ an’ closin’ like a fish aat o watter, waitin’ f’ t’ smoke ter clear. As it thinned, ‘e suddenly saw t’ dull yellow eye o’ ’is creation flicker oppen. It breathed hard, an’ a convulsive motion agitated its limbs. It turned its head slowly towards ‘im, an’ in a creaky voice so low it cud rattle aat fillings - it said,“Daddy”.

By now tears wer freely flowing daan Frank N Stein’s face as ‘e recounted ‘is  story ter Captain Walton, oo assumed wrongly, that they wer tears o’ joy. But appen they weren’t. No! In ‘is eagerness ter mek ‘is perfect bloke like, Frank N Stein ‘ad forgotten t’ mushroom principle. i.e. No matter wot size o’ mushroom tha chucks in t’ pan, once tha’s applied heat an’ oils, it allus cums aat a fraction o’ t’ size. And theyer on t’ laboratory table, ‘is creation wer nah a chuffin midget!

Words cannot describe pooar Frank’s emotions at this ‘ere catastrophe, ooer delineate t’ wretch whom wi such infinite pains an’ care ‘e ‘ad endeavoured ter form? F’ this creature’s limbs wer not long an’ athletic as designed – but wer short an’ stubby. It’s skin, far from milky white, wer yellow an’ transparent, scarcely coverin’ t’ knots o’ muscles an’ arteries beneath. It’s hair, wer not a lustrous raven-black but a sort o’ dog-shite braan flowing daan it’s back. It’s teeth wer not sparkling white marble tablets but lay grey an’ rotten like broken grave stones, barely hidden behind thin lips wot wer as black as t’ very coals o’ hell. Clearly young Franky ‘ad well an’ truly dropped a bollock!

Then Frank N Stein noticed t’ creature wer speakin’ agayen.

“If thou ith my Daddy! I am thy thon! Ah can thee what ah am made up o’ different body partth. Gradely, that meanth tha can replace bitth o me if ah wear aat. Tha crothth thitchin’ ithn’t that bad either, ah’ve theen much worthe! Part o’ me wer an undertaker afore like, an’ anuther part a profeththional theamthrethth!”

Struck wi t’ awful realisation that instead o’ mekin imsen a reight ‘andsome Adonis like plaything, ‘e’d actually created a hideous little short-arse wi a lisp, Frank N Stein’s body relinquished t’ last ounce o’ its inner strength whilst ‘is mind immediately capitulated an’ give up its slim grip on reality. Smack in t’ middle o’ sayin’, “Tha’s no chuffin son o’ mine!”,‘e fainted, hitting t’ deck as gracefully as a freshly laid cowpat; in t’ process knockin’ ‘issen in ter a fever-sum coma wot lasted monny weeks.

Lucky f’ ‘im, ‘is college class mate, ‘Henry’, enters  t’ story, an’ nurses ‘im back ter health. ‘ow ivver, o’ ‘is creation, ther’ is’ no sign. In fact, ivvery time Frank tries ter mentioned t’ creature ooer tell ‘is story, Henry wud say, “Hush nah, tis jus’ tha fever talkin’ agayen. Tha cud nivver stoop so low!” So in t’ end like, Frank jus’ stopped tryin’ t’ talk abaat it an’ simply waited f’ t’ shit to ‘it t’ fan. ‘e didn’t ‘ave ter wait long!

Soon atter, Frank’s younger brother William, is brutally murdered – an’ t’ family servant, Justine, sum ‘ow gets t’ blame. Frank kno s in ‘is ‘eart that it wer ‘is creation wot did it really - but fearin’ that nobody wi a full shillin’ wud believe t’ line "me dwarf did it", ‘e says nowt, even wen t’ pooar lass is ‘anged.

So racked wi grief an’ shame abaat ‘is own cowardice like, Frank takes issen off ter t’ Swiss Alps ter find issen agayen; an’ p’rhaps tek part in a tad o’ lederhosen thy slappin’ ter help wi t’ healin’ process. ‘ow ivver, life is a bitch an’ she’s got puppies, an’ it wer’n’t long afore ‘is vertically challenged nemesis tracked ‘im theyer an’ confronted ‘im abaat t’ terrible crime.

T’ midget tells ‘im a reight sad an’ movin’ story, abaat ‘ow it wer Frank’s fault that ‘e ‘d been alienated fra t’ world (“bein’ a corpse-parts conglomeration can do that ter thee”) an’ ‘ow ‘e killed t’ lad aat o’ revenge; pissed off that ‘is maker created ‘im ter be aal alone an’ miserable in t’ world. Then ‘e asks Frank ter create f’ ‘im a female companion as monstrous as imsen, so that they cud live aat t’ rest o’ their lives in peace an’ ‘appiness, away fra man, in sum forgotten corner o’ t’ world. “She cud be my Valenstein” ‘e says.

At fust, Frank refused sayin’ that ter creature “clearly ad a chuffin screw loose”, but atter much persuading an’ t’ mooare threat agayenst t’ other members o’ ‘is family, Frank N Stein eventually agrees to ‘is tormentor’s demands. Ah think it wer t’ line, “A stitch in mine, saves thine!” that did it.

Frank decides that ‘e needs total an’ utter isolation ter build a new creation an’ settles on t’ isle of Orkney ter do t’ dastardly deed. On route, ‘e drops off his mate Henry in Ireland, by way o’ a thank you ‘oliday f’ lookin’ atter ‘im earlier. ‘e then travels on to Orkney ter do ‘is worst.

Theyer, in an attempt ter get t’ gruesome task completed quickly, ‘e addles  aal hours o’ t’ day an’ neight, once agayen deprivin’ issen o’ much needed kip an’ grub. But appen each day, in ‘is ‘ead, ‘e starts ter fight a second battle – a growin’ belief that ‘e is mekin nobbut a ‘bugger’s muddle’. Ooer put mooare simply, spawnin’ a monster wot together wi t’ dwarf cud bring abaat t’ destruction o’ humanity.

Racked wi contradictin’ worries, ‘e uses a number o’ reight powerful drug an’ alcohol concoctions ter keep issen on ‘is feet an’ block aat t’ endless nightmares. But one neight, reight close ter t’ completion o’ ‘is labours, ‘e loses control ter ‘is inner demons - an’ in a hissy fit o’ despair tears up t’ new creation an’ throws its body in t’ sea.

T’ dwarf sees ‘im do t’ terrible deed an’ swears revenge on ‘im agayen. Adding, “Thith ith not over. Thould thee ivver get hitched ter yon pretty lathth back ‘ome, ah will be prethent with thee on thy wedding neight!” Then ‘e jumps aat t’ window an’ vanishes fra sight.

“Oh bugger!” thowatt Frank N Stein.

Nah wi nowt else to do like, ‘e heads back ter Ireland ter pick up Henry - but no sooner does ‘e land ashore wen ‘e is accused o’ murdering ‘is mate only hours afore. Clearly t’  bastard dwarf ‘ad kept t’ fust part o’ ‘is promise! At this news, Frank relapses in ter serious ill health an’ is hospitalised. This time, wi no Henry ter mek him better like, ‘is fatther cums ter visit – an’ wi t’ aid o’ sum bent coppers an’ a magistrate fra same Mason’s lodge as issen, gets aal t’ charges dropped!

In time, Frank returns ter Geneva – an’ several years o’ apparent peace an’ tranquillity quietly pass undisturbed. No news o’ t’ creature can be gleamed onny wayer – not even by t’ private detective agency employed by Frank’s influential fatther. So slowly, Frank starts ter believe t’ creature might o’ popped its clogs. Eventually, under t’ increasing pressure fra ‘is agein’ parents, ‘e  prepares ter marry Elizabeth in accordance wi their life-long wishes.

‘ow ivver, as t’ day o‘ t’ nuptials approaches like, Frank is filled wi an ever present sense o’ forbodin’, an bein’ t’ wuss ‘e’s become, starts frettin’ an mekin issen ill aal ova agayen.

T’ wedding itself passes uneventfully - but that neight as Elizabeth does ‘er ablutions’ in anticipation o’ a reight good rogerin’ that ‘oneymoon neight, t’ dwarf breaks in ter her bathroom an’ slits her throat fra ear to ‘ere. At this discovery, Frank loses aal self control an’ starts t’ slippery decent into madness. At t’ same time, ‘is father passes away suddenly, struck daan wi grief fra havin’ become t’ first man in t’ world ter lose both his adopted daughter an’ daughter-in-law in t’ same single murder.

Appen t’ monny years that follud these tragic events bleed into one another wi no concernable difference. Bent on revenge an’ finally endin’ t’ life o’ ‘is creation, Frank N Stein pursues ‘is adversary relentlessly! Year atter year, ‘e follas up ivvery clue that might lead ’im ter ‘is prey. An usin’ ‘is family’s vast fortune ter fund ‘is expenses, ‘e crosses countries, seas an’ continents in t’ single pursuit o’ ‘is quest. No rat hole, flee pit or whorehouse is left unexplored. As t’ madness takes total control, ‘is weight drops, ‘is once ‘andsome appearance becomes ragged an’ gaunt – an’ soon theyer is nobbut a gnats difference betwixt issen an’ t’ dwarf – ‘cept one appens ter be taller.

Having chased ‘is quarry raand t’ world monny times ova, Frank N Stein follas t’ creature in ter t’ frozzen hell that is t’ North Pole. Theyer ‘e chases t’ monster ova aal imaginable terrain gettin’ glimpses o’ ‘im ‘ere an’ theyer thru t’ blizzards – but nivver actually catchin up wi ‘im. T’ constant effort leaves ‘im nithered, spent an’ very near death imsen. An’ that’s abaat t’ time ‘e gets to Captain Robert Walton’s ice encrusted ship!

T’ recountin’ o’ ‘is full story teks Frank N Stein several days – wi Captain Walton notin’ it aal daan in t’ ships log. Sadly, an contrary ter Walton’s personal plans f’ ‘im, t’ effort o’ doin’ so, teks away ‘is last remaining strength, an’ thus in t’ relative comfort o’ t’ captain’s quarters, Frank N Stein slips in ter unconsciousness an’ then dies.

Captain Walton, has Frank N Stein’s body prepared for a ‘burial at sea’ an’ sewn into blankets in accordance wi tradition. It’s then left in t’ cold room, awaiting t’ spring thaw.

A few hours later, appen t’ Captain is woken by t’ saand o’ weepin’ cumin’ fra t’ cold room. Upon oppenin’ its dooar, ‘e is shocked t’ see t’ Frank N Stein’s creature crying ova ‘its master’s body.

Nah, wot appened next is t’ subject o’ great debate. Sum folks say that t’ captain drew ‘is pistol an’ shot  t’ creature deead. Others, that it jumped aat t’ window an’ raced off across t’ ice never t’ be seen agayen. But ah happen ter kno t’ real truth....

Frank N Stein’s monster now goes by t’ name o’ Jim Bob Walton an’ is t’ captain’s personal cabin boy, wi t’ rank o’ very able seaman. It seems that t’ mushroom principle didn’t apply ter absolutely ivvery thing!!

‘ow exactly do ah kno this? Well ah reckon, that’s f’ thee ter guess!

Happy Halloween!