Tag Archives: fairy tale theater

Fairy Tale Theater: Frankenstein

18 Dec

December 18, 2013

Are Frankenstein and Dracula fairy tales? No, they are not. But I’m rounding out Fairy Tale week with them. Frankenstein today, Dracula tomorrow.

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from November 1, 2012

My Memories of Frankenstein

Baron Frankenstein was a lonely boy. Part of the problem was due to his name. Many people think his first name was something normal, like Victor or Fritz, or Flo Rida, but they are wrong. Baron Frankenstein’s first name was actually Baron. (Therefore, when he grew up and inherited his title, he became Baron Baron Frankenstein. Think of it this way: it is as if Queen Elizabeth named her son Prince instead of Meathead.)  Think this is too farfetched? Think again. None other than 21st Century carnival barker Donald Trump named his son Baron. Tru dat. Look it up.

Li’l Baron (Barry for short) Frankenstein had no friends. You’d think being rich and having every toy in the Barony would be enough to ensure friends, but no, it was not. Baron Frankenstein’s father, Baron Frankenstein (and this time that’s his title, not his name- see how confusing this can be?) ordered every child in the land to attend his son’s birthday parties – and they did- but he could not force them to like his son.

You see, Li’l Baron Frankenstein was a total snot, a typical whiny rich brat who would never share his toys and, to be honest, smelled a lot like the pig sty. So one the one hand he was rich, but on the other hand he was selfish. On the one hand he had every toy in the world, on the other hand he had the hygiene of Balls Mahoney.

Unable to buy a friend, and with no other recourse, the snotty Baron pledged to build his very own best friend.

His very first attempt was a cross between a chicken and his nanny and it was an utter failure.

Upon hitting puberty, the young Baron was ready to make his second attempt- a cross between his new nanny and the busty chambermaid. This went nowhere but the Baron did entice them to pose for some interesting photographs.

Eventually, the friendless Baron grew and after his father died he became a friendless Baron. (See how silly that double-meaning name is? Grr.) He had no family, no wife, his dog ran away, etc etc etc. He soon realized that the only way for him to have a friend was to start off fresh with a clean slate. He spruced himself up, cleaned off that stench that clung to him, and opened wide his castle gates for the most lavish party anyone had ever seen, earning his the good graces of his countrymen forever.

Of course he didn’t, that would be stupid. He did the logical thing- he robbed some graves and stitched together several corpses to make a single male body more lithe and muscular than you’d expect from a totally heterosexual man.

Though I did point out that he was very lonely.

Well, after that it was the same old story. Man builds man out of dead men, living dead man rebuffs man’s advances, man sulks, living dead man moves out and into his own condo.

The moral of the story is that not only can you not buy love, you cannot build a living dead man out of the corpses of many dead men and expect it to like you.

So what happened to Baron Frankenstein?
The question is Imponderable.

HA HA, couldn’t help myself (a little inside joke there, click on the Imponderable link above, plug plug.)

Seriously, Baron Frankenstein one day did find love, albeit with a frog named Jessup who claimed to be an enchanted prince.

The undead creation of the Baron lives to this day, though he now goes by the name of Ben Bernanke.

Fairy Tale Theater: Pinocchio

16 Dec

December 16, 2013

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from April 4, 2012

Once upon a time there was an old man named Geppetto. And you might expect that he lived in the woods since it seemed like everyone lived in the woods back in fairytale times and you never read any fairy tales that take place in the ghetto, but you’d be wrong. Geppetto lived in a small cottage in Bavaria. In fact, Bavaria was so rural and picturesque that many years later Hammer Studios would film The Revenge of Frankenstein there. But that was in the future.

Geppetto was a wood-carver. A very poor wood-carver, that is. How do I know? He had lost three fingers from his left hand and one from his right. The guy had no knife skills. But what do you expect? They had no Boy Scouts back then, and it would be many years later until the got an organization even close- the Hitler Youth. Anyway, when it came to carving he sucked. No matter what he tried to carve- a flute, a toy, a small replica of Jesus- it invariably came out looking like a stick. Even snakes, who already sort of look like sticks anyway came out looking like gnarly sticks.

He was a poor craftsman, thus he had no money, thus he was unmarried, and thus he was very lonely. Oh, it had not always been that way. Back in his youth he was a popular rapper called G-Petto and had all kinds of stank on his hang low but his record label stole all his money. All he had to show for his once-thriving rap career were his big gold chains, which unfortunately were not gold but carved out of wood. And yes, they looked like sticks.

One night, as he sat on a stool and tried to whittle a wooden bowl out of a leafy fern, it occurred to him that since no one would talk to him anyway, maybe he should carve a puppet to be his friend.

As you might have realized by now, all the solitude had driven Geppetto a little cuckoo.

So he set out to do his very best work and carve a wooden boy. At this point I will say that I am making no judgments but if I were I could really have some fun with an old man wanting a little boy to play with. Seriously, if I were the type of person to make judgments I’d be making some serious pedophile jokes right now. But I am not that kind of person. However, if you are that kind of person, please click on the link and leave me a comment.

He carved the hell out of an old piece of firewood and soon- and do not even try to guess- he had carved a puppet boy. And since Geppetto was a pretty lousy craftsman it looked less like a boy than some sort of Lovcraftian horror, with tentacles and big nose. He named it Cthulhu and tossed the eldritch horror into the sea.

The next day he tried again and Pinocchio was born.

Every day Geppetto would feed Pinocchio and dress Pinocchio and play games with Pinocchio and pretty soon he was spotted by some local townsfolk and the police were called, because back then there were some pretty strict ideas about what a consenting adult and his puppet could or could not do in the privacy of their own home.

Since this a fairytale and we have gone a long time without a fairy, this is where the Blue Fairy enters the picture. She saw Geppetto’s grief and loneliness and turned Pinocchio in to a real boy. I am not sure that was a good idea. Now he had to deal with puberty because Geppetto had very specifically made Pinocchio look about 13 years old.

If you know anything about fairy tales you will have realized that fairies are never helpful. If the Blue Fairy was so powerful why didn’t she start up his rap career again? Seriously, does Geppetto strike you as the right guy to raise a child?

Anyway he was not and pretty soon Pinocchio was smoking and drinking and hanging out with the wrong crowd, just like a typical kid. And he never did listen to Geppetto, who came to regret ever carving the kid in the first place.

The moral of the story? Those of you who expected me to make some off-color jokes about how Pinocchio’s nose grew severely underestimated me.

Can you stand more?
Read My Memories of Cinderella here.

Read My Memories of Snow White here.

Read My Memories of The Boy Who Cried Wolf here.

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