We’ve all heard of “fake news.”  However, how do we know what is true and what is not?

For instance, it is announced by a major TV station that, on its primetime talk show, an interview would be conducted with someone we know is a prominent fictional character. But the station treats him as being real. Is this a farce or can fiction become reality? You will find out in . . .

An Unbelievable Interview

     My name is Colin Cantrell. I’m a TV show host and interviewer. I work with my cohost, Samson Leigh, on our Saturday evening show on station KVEX in Los Angeles, CA, called Unbelievable Interviews. One Saturday night in late August, Samson and I prepared for an extraordinary experience many would call unreal. But, they’d be wrong.

     When I first learned of the opportunity to interview someone called Frankenstein, I was rather skeptical. Then I was told he had books written about him and had been featured in a number of movies. In reality, it was not Frankenstein I’d be interviewing, but Frankenstein’s monster. This made me even more hesitant about doing the interview. However, after thinking about it, I agreed to have him come on our show. After all, it’s not every day you are given the chance to meet face to face with the king of horror films.

     The night of the interview, Samson and I sat on the set, behind the black curtain, awaiting the start of the show and the entrance of our prominent guest. He looked over at me.

     “Colin, when you first told me who was going to be our guest on tonight’s show, I was somewhat apprehensive. First of all, I didn’t think this was possible. Probably, just a joke. And, if it wasn’t, having seen his work, I expected an aggressive and unpredictable mad man with a warped mind.”

     “Well, those were my thoughts, too, Samson. I thought he wouldn’t be able to answer our questions and would moan angrily when he couldn’t. And then, maybe he would take out his frustration on us. I’ve got to be honest, . . . I wanted to make sure the exit door was open, so I could make my escape.”

     “And I’d be right behind you, Colin,” Samson stated with conviction. “But then we had that pre-meeting with him to discuss how we would conduct the interview and the whole picture changed.”

     “Yeah, in hindsight, we couldn’t have been more wrong. Imagine meeting, not a monster at all, but a rational, intelligent, sensitive individual.”

     “And the way he dressed blew me away. He had on a white shirt and a blue sport blazer. He looked rather dapper. Didn’t you think so, Colin?”

     “Why yes, I did. Also, I was surprised by his candidness and the extensive vocabulary he used through a deep, monotonous toned voice. However pleasant he appeared, mind you, he still frightened me. But when he thanked us for giving him this wonderful opportunity to set the record straight, I knew we’d made the right decision to have him on the show.”

     “And I agree,” Samson stated.

     The lights on the set blinked on and off indicating the show was about to begin. And then, the curtain opened.

     Looking out at a full house, I stated with conviction, “At this time, it is my great pleasure to introduce the very well known, Mr. Frankenstein.”

     The studio audience applauded with gusto, as Frankenstein plodded across the stage and took a seat in the remaining chair at our round, oak conference table. He seemed very relaxed.

     “Welcome, Mr. Frankenstein,” I chanted with exuberance.

     “Please, call me Frank,” he droned.

     “Okay, Frank it is. So let’s begin the interview. First question. Considering Dr. Frankenstein patched you together from many parts, how do you feel?”

     “I get that question all the time. I feel fine. That is, unless it’s raining, which makes my knees ache, and as long as no large open flames are involved,” he said with a deep echoing laugh. “No, in all honesty, all it takes is a stitch here and a stitch there to correct the doc’s hasty actions. Can’t say that I blame him though. He didn’t have much to work with.”

     “I’m not sure I follow you. What do you mean, he didn’t have much to work with?” Samson queried.

     “You know, darkness, an impending majestic electrical storm crackling in the distance, and medical tools that left a lot to be desired. Of course, if you’re wondering whether I’m able to reach over and snatch the life right out of you, . . . I certainly could,” Frank bellowed.

     “You know, I wasn’t expecting a threat like that from you. You make me want to turn and run,” I joked.

     “That somewhat short race you might attempt won’t do you much good. I’m considerably quicker than I used to be,” Frank responded.

     Samson muttered under his breath, “My God, he’s lowered his head and has a menacing look in his eyes. I gotta get out of here.”

     Frank continued, “I’m much more agile after a number of modern microsurgery's. And this makes me more dangerous than ever.” He burst into uproarious laughter. “That’s a joke. . . . Yeah, I feel great.”

     Regaining his composure, Samson asked, “How old are you, Frank?”

     “Well, like many women, I prefer to not discuss age. I was created when Ms. Shelly wrote that first word in her book. However, I like to think I was born with that lightning strike that came a bit later. You do the math.”

     “You were originally labeled a monster, Frankenstein’s monster. But, somewhere along the way you began being referred to simply as Frankenstein. What do you have to say about that?” I inquired.

     “Personally, it doesn’t trouble me. However, while the doc never conveyed it, I know the concept bothered him. I mean, how would you feel if someone took your name and reaped all the rewards? Regardless, I take horror very seriously. Obviously, I enjoy scaring people, as you’ve already seen. That being said, today, I really tend to lean toward viewing myself as that Herman guy, from The Munsters TV show in the early 60s—lovable, laughable, and somewhat uneducated.”

     “Speaking of that comedy sitcom knock off, how did you feel about their portrayal of your character, when the show first aired?” Samson asked.

     “When I first saw it, it really made me mad. Horror is horror and comedy is comedy and it was very hard for me to accept the way the show crossed the line. However, after viewing a few episodes and realizing how popular the show was becoming, I calmed down a bit, understanding, and even appreciating, that they were at least keeping my character in the spotlight. And, I have to admit I developed a bit of a crush on Lilly. Boy, she was one hot babe!”

     Frank became silent and seemed to be preoccupied with thoughts of Lily. Then he shook his head, making me think the bolts in his neck were about to fall out.

     “Are you ready to continue,” I asked.

     “Guess so. But I’m still salivating over Lilly. She’s luscious,” he gushed.

     “Frank, I think I detect a slight smell coming from you. It’s not all that strong or repulsive, sort of a new car smell. Do you emit a death odor and, if so, how do you combat it?”

     Frank spoke in a candid manner, “Yes, you’re right.  Although my body parts seem to be working fine, they were all dead at one time. Therefore, I have this never-ending aroma.”

     Samson grunted, “That would really bother me. I’d try everything I could to get rid of it.”

     “Lord knows, I’ve tried,” Frank moaned. “But there’s not much I can do about it.”

     “What have you tried?” I queried.

     “Well, I’m pretty well known at a number of Beverly Hills high-end department stores’ fragrance sections. I’m the seven-foot tall green guy at the counter asking for a few of those little samples of the latest colognes. Usually, after the sales girl’s initial fright, she dumps gallons on me to eliminate the odor. However, there is never enough to mask the distasteful aroma. Today, I loaded up on car air fresheners.”

     “So that’s why my nose is picking up the new car scent,” I exclaimed. “Well, we’ve covered your odor problem. What about clothing and shoes? You must have a tough time finding a size that fits?”

     “I used to, before it became so easy to shop from home. I had a tough time hunting things down. After all, Rodeo Drive is all about trendy and they don’t cater to the big and tall, nor do they stock any shoes over a size ten.”

     “That must be terribly frustrating. Do you feel it is a waste of time, roaming through those stores and finding nothing?” Samson inquired.

     “With regard to clothing, that’s true. But there are other very intriguing things to look at in those stores.”

     “Like what? You’ve piqued my curiosity,” I declared.

     “Well, women—absolutely beautiful women. There was one I kept staring at one day some time ago. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her.”

     “Don’t keep us in the dark. Who was she?” Samson queried.

     “I didn’t know at the time. I never got close enough to ask. She was a lovely, light-complexioned gal with flowing blond hair. After she noticed my preoccupation with her, she asked me to mind my own business. When I didn’t, she began twitching her nose. I didn’t understand why or what she said next, . . . something about casting a bad spell on me.”

     “A bad spell? Reminds me of another famous TV comedy show. You know . . .”

     “Yeah, I didn’t then, but I do now. Bewitched,” Frank shouted. “I have to admit to having a crush on Samantha, too.”

     “Are you enthralled with all gorgeous TV stars?” I asked.

     “I’m only ‘human,’” he screamed.

     Deciding not to pursue that remark, I turned to the audience and stated, “Our time is about up. I hope you’ve enjoyed our interview this evening. It’s been marvelous talking with our guest, Frankenstein.”       

     They began to applaud, but then, Frank reached over and grabbed Samson by the neck. Laughing uncontrollably, he screamed, “I will now suck the life out of you.”

     I was dumbfounded at what was happening. Unable to move, I sat, frozen in my chair and watched, as Samson’s body fell to the floor. The audience was in shock.

     Frank, with head bent, exited quickly through the stage door to the alley alongside the studio. Freaked out by what had happened, I rushed to Samson, who lay face down on the ground. I knelt alongside his body and turned it over. What I saw made me sick to my stomach—Samson smiling at me. I wanted to kill him. However, my anger diminished when the audience, realizing the death scene had been a hoax, stood and applauded. And the following Tuesday, the show’s ratings jumped to number one.

Copyright © 2015 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.