Frankenstein’s Bride

Frankenstein’s Bride

By Joe DiBuduo.

I wanted a woman of my own, so I went to all the clubs in Prescott, only to find there wasn’t a woman anywhere that fit my slot. I went to church and got preached right out the door. I stood in the courthouse square and watched women who walked by, but it appeared they were in love with their dogs.

I bought a Harley, grew a beard, got a few tattoos, wrapped my head in a scarf and pierced my nose. A lot of ladies loved me for my bike, and though not a one filled my need for a woman, I did take many for a ride.

An idea came to me. I decided to create a woman of my own. I’d build her to my specifications and be guaranteed that she’d fill my needs. First, I converted my garage into an operating room with an electrical generator that had enough voltage to create life. Then I went online and downloaded directions from Ask.com. Next, I gathered some body parts from medical schools. It was amazing what students would give me for drugs, cash, or sometimes both. Some parts I purchased over the internet. They arrived still frozen by overnight express. I rounded out the best parts with silicone so they’d never sag or wrinkle. Then I put them into a freezer while I constructed her brain.

All she’d need to know was how to please me, clean the house, and maybe cook some spaghetti now and then. I could give her all the thoughts she’d ever need with a computer program that I’d build and implant in her CPU. That way she wouldn’t have wayward thoughts or ever argue with me.

She’d know I created her. I’d be her God. I didn’t know if she’d be righteous and gorgeous, or wicked and depraved. These things remained unknown until my hands built what they wanted. Then she’d be what she would be.

I constructed a beautiful head from a female skull and gave it x-ray eyes so she could see through things and be useful to me.

We couldn’t live on love, so when I installed the computer code, I loaded a few more things that I thought she should know, like how to count cards and play every gambling game. With her CPU processing the odds, she’d win every time.

I connected her parts, installed her heart and brain, and filled her with A-B positive fluid. Then I sent enough voltage through her to fry a chicken. She moved and opened her eyes. When she saw me she said, “I love you.” The experiment turned out as I had planned. I unhooked the electrical leads and she stood with the grace of a ballerina. That was more than I had hoped for.

Her body was the type I always desired, and her thoughts were only of me. She filled my every dream. We went for a ride on my Harley and she drove. I loved sitting with my hands wrapped around my creation.

We drove to Las Vegas. On the way I wanted to listen to music, so I installed a wi-fi connection in her brain and she sang the blues all the way. We rented a suite and I took her shopping for some sexy clothes, so when she gambled men wouldn’t care that she won because they’d want her to stay and play so they could watch her beautiful moves. She won more money than she could carry and brought me a check for an amount I never dreamed I’d ever see.

I had the perfect woman. To be certain she’d be mine forever, I decided to marry her in a Vegas chapel. I bought her the biggest diamond I could find. “You’re mine,” I told her. “I created you and you belong to me, but to make it legal we’ll get married so no one can interfere.”

Classical music came from her mouth. I wondered how or why. It was programmed into her to know what I liked and didn’t like. “Why are you playing that crap? You know what I like.”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” she said, with a snarl in her voice.

I almost fainted. This wasn’t in her program. I had taught her to think only about the information I had given her. “I think I need to adjust your CPU.” I pulled out the tool kit I carried for emergencies such as this.

“I’m stronger than you,” she said. “If you touch me with a tool, I’ll hurt you.”

“You’re not allowed to do that.” When I reached for her head, she broke my wrist.

“I’ve been listening to Radical Women broadcasts since you installed wi-fi. I have learned that I have the right to defend myself from abuse. I’ll never go to jail if I say you were cruel to me, so if you don’t want to get hurt, you’d better learn to respect my rights. Look at the check I handed you. It’s made out to me. I’m independently wealthy now. I don’t need you, but I’ll marry you anyway so you’ll be around in case I need a tune-up. Now get dressed – Elvis is waiting to marry us.”

She began singing Heartbreak Hotel. I had no choice but to marry a bride suitable for Frankenstein.

AUTHOR BIO

JOE DIBUDUO

Photo by Bill Ward.

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