Frankie Lives Next Door

(782 Words)

“Z, you’re not going to believe who moved in next door!” the woman clutched the phone to her ear as she sat on the edge of a dining room chair. A glass of wine sat on the table next to her.

“What’s that honey?” a drawling, slightly lisping feminine voice responded.

The woman paused a moment as she took in a deep breath. Exhaling she said quickly, “Frankenstein’s Monster!”

“Nu-uh! Get outta town,” her friend mumbled back. A bit of shuffling could be heard and then her friend spoke again, “Sorry ‘bout that. You made my jaw drop.”

“I still say you should get that fixed. I can’t imagine how you eat,” the woman leaned back in the chair, eyeing the wine glass.

“Ah make do. It’s not like ah really need to chew, ah usually just suck on the matter. But that’s not why you called me. Tell me more about your new neighbor.”

“Well,” the woman picked up the wine glass and took a long drink, “He’s tall. Very tall. Broad shouldered. His skin is pale and pasty. He has two bolts sticking out of the side of his neck. He has all these scars all over his body…”

“You’ve seen his body?!” Z’s shock reverberated through phone.

“What?! No!” the woman’s face flushed red, “I just meant that what I could see of his face and arms had scars.”

“Hm… a lot of scars… You know, I’ve heard that he doesn’t have much of a brain. I need a man with a good, strong, yummy brain,” a slurping sound carried across the line.

“Z – could you not eat while we’re talking,” her face went a little green. Z, more formally know as Zora, had a horrible eating etiquette.

“Oh, sorry,” the slurping stopped, “Have you talked to him yet? You know, introduced yourself in a neighborly fashion?”

The woman’s face went pale, “I couldn’t do that! I…”

“Of course you could. You’ve been lonely without a man in your life. And finding a good one is hard, trust me.”

“Yeah, I have been lonely. I don’t know how you do it, find all those guys who just fall all over you.”

“That’s usually a side-effect of my hunger, but after they’ve filled my appetite, they’re gone. None of them ever last. In truth, I envy you.”

“I don’t know. I mean, he just moved in…” she swirled the wine in her glass.

“And you’ve got the hots for him. Why else would you have called me? He sounds perfect for you. You should definitely pound his brains out.”

“Z!” she gasped at her friend’s boldness. Just as she was about to say something to rebuke her friend, the doorbell rang.

She turned to the door as she held the phone away, “Just a moment!”

Bringing the phone back to her ear, she sighed “Sorry Z, I gotta go. Someone’s at the door.”

“Maybe it’s the monstrous hunk of meat next door,” Z giggled, which sounded more like a garbage disposal.

“You’re so bad!” she exclaimed. She stood and took another long drink of her wine.

“Call me later if it is!” Z insisted.

“All right, I will,” she promised. As she pulled the phone away from her ear, she heard Z say to someone else, “Hey sweet-cheeks, come back here. I’m hungry for more.” As she hit the off button, she shook her head and sighed. Zombies… Zora sure was a wild woman for being so dead all the time.

She set the phone down and walked to the door. In the nearby mirror she examined herself. She patted out a few wrinkles in her long white dress. She picked up a can of hairspray from the little table under the mirror. Holding up some loose ends on the side of her bouffant, she sprayed liberally. Her jet black hair was perfectly in position with the white streaks going right up the sides. She smiled, turned and opened the door.

There he stood. The monstrous hunk of meat, indeed. She smiled impishly at him.

He stood there for a moment, a blank expression on his face. Finally he spoke in a deep, halting voice, “Sugar… Cup… Need…”

Her desire swelling up in her, she said boldly, “I got your sugar right here, Big Boy,” and with that, she grabbed the bolts on the side of his head and pulled him into a passionate kiss. For a couple of minutes they danced the tongue tango. Finally she pulled away and stepped back, sweeping her arm to point towards her bedroom. The synapses in Frankenstein’s Monster’s heads started firing and he ambled forward.

As he passed her, his voice rumbled, “What… a… wo-man…”