The Monster Mash

“I was working in the lab late one night
When my eyes beheld an eerie sight
For my monster from his slab began to rise
And suddenly to my surprise

He did the mash...”

“Reid, Reid, always good to see you. Have you had a chance to look around? What do you think?”

“I think it's great. You've got a really swinging party going on. The dancing is great and I love the old music. Nice touch.”

“But that still doesn't answer my question,” said Dr. Lorin Berland, head of anatomy and physiology at the local university. “What I really want to know is, what do you think of them?”

“Ah, them,” I said uneasily. Glancing around shyly. “They're great,” I added as quickly as I could, but with a note of hesitation in my voice. “Just great. A real modern marvel.”

“Is that all? After all the work I've done? All the long hours I dedicated myself to,” he went on to explain, mood rising like a tea kettle about to boil over. “Is that all you have to say?”

“Well...” I stumbled to explain. “I haven't even talked to one yet. Give me a chance won't you?”

“They are just plain, old folks Reid. C'mon, don't be shy. I'll introduce you.” And before I could politely bow out of the invitation to meet one of Dr. Berland's guests, I found myself standing in front of one of the largest men I've ever seen. Standing at least seven feet in height, with about a fifty inch chest, all I could do was nervously stare upward and meekly say, “hi. My name is Reid. I understand you're one of the guests here. Nice party isn't it?”

“You needn't be so coy,” said the huge tower of stitched together odds and ends... a laboratory creation of the distinguished Dr. Berland.

“There is a question on my mind,” I followed up with. As long as I felt I'd been given a green light to ask away.

“What's on your mind little friend,” replied the monster before me, who I could tell was actually trying to set me at ease.

“Is everyone here... you know, the same?” I asked.

“We're all just plain folks here buddy, trying to have a good time. What's the problem? Can't you see the obvious?”

I know you're plain folks, I know that. I can see, but I just had to know... are you all re... you know, re...”

“If you're trying to ask me if we're all reanimated,” answered my monster friend. “The answer is yes. Does that answer your question? And by the way, there is a little something you can do for us if you're interested.”

“Now don't get pedantic Peter,” interjected the good doctor. “We bored our last house guest also and where did it get us?”

“I must keep trying,” replied this hulking man, who I would call a monster for lack of a better term. “What we want... what we chiefly need, are equal rights and a flag that will symbolize our quest. I'm thinking,” he added, continuing on in a state of deep reflection. “What we need is a rainbow flag, because we intend to peacefully march and to show the people who we are and what we stand for. We're asking for equal rights. For the right to marry each-other; for the right to join with someone who is not reanimated and for the right to do as we choose, just like anyone else. We shouldn't have to walk into a restaurant and get stared at just because we're with someone who hasn't been reanimated. Just yesterday, I met a girl who told me my stitches are cute, so what's stopping me from asking her out? I'll tell you what, it's society that's what.”

“Well put,” added the doctor. “I couldn't have said it better myself.”

“Then...” I began to say. “Exactly what do you think this flag should look like?”

“It should have ten colors,” said Peter. “A color for every stitch in our foreheads. But there's something else,” he went on to say, slowing down his speech to emphasize what he was about to tell me. “Something else of equal importance.”

“Yes Peter,” answered Dr. Berland. “Please speak freely.”

“We don't want to be called 'monsters' anymore. It's very demeaning. We want to be called; 'surgically enhanced' people.

“Excellent,” said the doctor. “You've learned so much on your own Peter, you make me feel like a very proud father. The only thing is, it’s going to take time now son. Time to make people realize that you're another human being, just like so many others. Then maybe one day, the world will see who you really are inside, not just for the superficial exterior that makes them fear you.”

“I want so much to fit in and find my niche in life. But I know, I look different then they do.”

“I know Peter, I know.” And with that the monster, or, surgically enhanced Peter picked up the doctor like a rag doll and began hugging him like the huge child of enormous strength and size that he was. But was this a new beginning I wondered? Could the world see things in a different light. Maybe, I thought. Just maybe.

After a few years of struggle and a lot of peaceful protest marching had gone by, the surgically enhanced people had made great strides. They went to theaters, restaurants and public libraries without the fear of being stared at or discriminated against and best of all, Peter found himself married to a very cute non-reanimated girl and in a few years time, brought forth the child Peter had always wanted. It was very touching meeting this child in particular, because the parents were so proud of their new baby boy. “Look,” said the mother, holding him up for me to see. “He has his fathers stitches,” and the world had suddenly become a whole lot better place to live in.