(*Author’s Note: This is part one of a parody of Mary Shelley’s novel Frankenstein.  I know it’s long and a little different, but I thought I’d give it a shot.  Plus, I scored an “A” on it in my Capstone course and that’s rare enough that I thought it deserved a little cred.  The footnotes feature on this site is weird, so they’re just kind of thrown in there between the dashed lines.  Bear with me.) 


E-Mail I

To: lilsis22@gmail.com, Kansas State University

Abel Dormitory, 10/20/2010

Hey, Jess. How’re things down there in Manhattan?  We really stomped you guys out in football the other weekend[1].  Bet that had to hurt, huh? lol. Anyway, the real reason I’m writing to you is that I’m super pumped about a new idea me and my roommate had.  Are you ready for this?  We’re going to go to every bar within a 10 mile radius of our dorm[2].  On foot.  How awesome is that?  We’ll be like explorers in uncharted territory.  Finding new dive-bars and investigating new drinks piece by piece.  Columbus may have not made it exactly where he was going but look how good that turned out for him!  He has his own freakin’ holiday named after him.  With Mapquest as our compass and student loans as our financiers we feel ready for the mission at hand.  We’ve been casually drinking a six-pack a night to prepare for this, the true gauntlet of college.
[1] University of Nebraska won 48-13.  http://huskerextra.com/sports/football/
[2] Approximately 38 bars fit the criteria.  http://drunkmanwalking.com

So, dear sister, as I set out on this perilous mission; this battle against sobriety and all that prohibition once stood for, fear not.  I am strong, my liver is willing and I will make it through the night to a beautiful, if extremely hung-over, dawn.  Do not worry, Lil’ Sis, for I will most likely keep you in the loop with drunk-dials and un-readable texts.  And e-mails too.

As this quest begins I feel renewed.  I feel as a true man of science and exploration would.  Instead of Lewis and Clark, it’s Jim Beam and Jack Daniels’ trail that I’ll be following.  I’ll blaze my name into the barstools of this great city and become completely and utterly famous[3].
[3]  Scientifically proven to be a horrible idea.  “Webster’s Dictionary. . .of Horrible Ideas” Page 264

Wish me luck,



E-Mail II

To: lilsis22@gmail.com, Kansas State University

Jack’s Olde Tavern, 11/27/2010

Heyd jEss!  How are youi doing, little sister?  I’m at bar 18 tonigjht and this place is awesome.  they EVEN have computres with free intrenet.  I tried to call you but your phone wents striaght to v-mail.  BEtter not be a dude in your drom room.  lol[4].  j/k[5].  But seriously, no boning frat boys, okay?  I just wanteed to write uyou and tell you that Im safe.  My drinking buddies are seriously badass guys!  Theyr’e not scared of anythingg.  Plus, one of them is always a DD. Hahaha!  Double d!?!  Get it?  I can’t belive I never thougjht of that before.

[4]  Language of origin: Loser. Internet speak for “Laugh Out Loud.”
[5]  Language of origin: Tweenage Girl Dialect, English.  Stands for “Just Kidding.”

We’re still making good time in our glorious mission.  So don’t worry aboutt me.  I just know that wel’ll succeed on our mission to take down each bar around here.  I’m still SO excited to get ‘er done.  In fact I’m about to go have shot of CROWN to cap off the night and toasts our endeavor.

Cherr’s[6], Little Sis.  Cheers, I mean. I”m going to pour my drink out thus.

Peace ou,


————————————————————————————————————————————————-[6] Drinking has been proven to reduce motor skills and judgment.  http://www.anywebpageinhistory.com


E-Mail III

To: lilsis22@gmail.com, Kansas State University

Abel Dormitory, 12/8/10

Hey there, little sister, how are you?  What’s new Jess?  I was going through my old e-mails and I couldn’t believe the one I sent you from Jack’s.  Damn, I was blitzed.  Highly inappropriate.  Let’s keep that one between you and me, okay?  No need for Mom and Daryl to find out.  Or Dad, either, even though he might at least find it funny.  How’s the weather down in KS?  It’s terrible up here.  Classes have been canceled for the last 2 days, no lie.  It’s been snowing so hard that ice is covering all of our cars and we’re pretty much stuck here.  The ice has closed around us, but my heart still soars to see its beauty unfold upon this campus.  The blank, linen, sheet has lain her caress down upon the land and, though my hands are freezing, my heart beats with wonder at the power of nature.

Damn, that sounds a little bit schmaltzy, doesn’t it?  Almost. . .romantic.  Well that’s enough of that shit.  The weather was bad.  Where was I?  Oh yeah.  The terrible weather was storming outside and something absolutely insane happened.

I have an epic[7] story for you.

[7] A word often used during this time period to denote something that was, in fact, completely un-epic.  However, this proves to be the exception.

So Monday afternoon I woke up with this bitchin’ hangover from our wild antics at another bar.  Nick and I go outside to have a quick smoke.  And I do mean quick, since it was 12 degrees out there.  The wind’s whipping around and the snow’s flying and shit.  We couldn’t see further than just across the street.  But somehow, in the midst of this winter storm from hell, we see someone.  Or at least we’re pretty sure it’s somebody.  And I mean, whoever this is, is crazy.  They’re out walking around at 1 in the afternoon when there are no classes and it’s so cold it could literally make your dick freeze off[8].

[8] Science can’t back this up conclusively as no man has ever volunteered for testing, but men have been making the claim for centuries.  “Damn, it’s Cold Out Here: Peary’s Guide to the North Pole” Robert Peary.  Page 121.

But the weirdest part, lil sis, is how big this dude was.  I mean, he had to be a football player or something.  But our biggest O-Lineman is only 6’5″ tall (I Googled[9] it) and this dude was seriously pushing 7 feet.  And he was just as wide as our lineman.  He.  Was.  Huge.  But than we took a couple more puffs and the guy was gone.  Vanished.  Then we weren’t sure if we’d actually seen him or if he had appeared like the “ghost-of-too-much-grain-alcohol-past.”  Well then Nick starts to head inside and I go to stub out the cigarette and I look over one more time and there’s this girl.  She’s stumbling along in the snow and she falls over.  Well, you know me, little sis, I had to prove that chivalry’s not quite dead yet[10]. I sprinted across the street, swooped in to her rescue and pulled her inside the front doors.

[9] The only way to get information during the time period.  Seriously.  That’s true.  Google it.
[10] A theory posited by noted philosopher David Chappelle.  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ymNdfdQvdVc

As I took her inside she spoke to me in English, but with a really weird, foreign accent.  Maybe she was Russian or from some communist-block country or something.  But, get this; the first thing she said was, “How far from Bio-Science building?”

Shocked, I said, “Ummm. . .I don’t know I’ve never had class there. But it’s not too big a campus.”

And then . . . she passed out.  Right there on the floor.  I knew that if my resident adviser came along we’d get in all kinds of trouble.  See, they’ve been cracking down on what Nick and I call “conjugal visits” in the dorms this winter and they would lose their minds if they saw a passed out girl on the floor.  So we carried her up to our room and put her on the lower bunk bed.  She was a serious mess.  Her make-up was smeared, her hoody was torn and dirty and she was nearly frozen to death.  I’m not sure how she made it out in the snow.  She had on those boots, those ones that you like so much that have fur in them and stuff, but they were seriously frozen to her feet.  We threw her under a bunch of blankets and she seemed to warm up pretty fast, but she wasn’t in the best shape.  I’m not really sure why we didn’t call 9-1-1 but we just kind of forgot about it in the panic.

Anyway, after a few hours, she began to come to.  I had all kinds of trouble keeping the other idiots on the floor away from our room while she was resting.  We cooked her up some Ramen noodles and gave her some hot coco.  That seemed to warm her up a little bit.  She even smiled a little when we asked if she wanted any Kahlua in her drink, but shook her head yes.  Finally I worked up the courage to say anything other than the normal, post potential-death-by-hypothermia type stuff, and I asked her straight up, what she was doing out in the worst storm we’ve had in years; why she would risk her very life to wander about on this frigid campus?

She sat up suddenly, a strange light in her eyes, opened her parched lips and said, “To catch a predator.[11]

[11] A popular, if disturbing, reality show during this time used to catch what many people deem “pervs.”  http://google.com/pervcaughtredhanded

We all sat there for a second and then burst out laughing.  Nick was the first one to get his breath back, “What, like the show?!?”

“What show?”  She was confused.

“You know,”  I told her.  “Old perverts, sneaking into crappy apartments looking to score some underage butt. Usually they have these wine coolers and shit. Great show–”  I trailed off as she seemed more confused.  She shook her head violently from side to side.

“The one who ran.  From me.”  Her resolve weakened and she leaned back down, clearly frustrated.

“Wait. . .” I suddenly wondered if she was talking about the only other person we’d seen earlier that day.  “Big guy? Like, sumo big? Except taller. Somewhere between Shaq and Yao Ming?”  I held my hand up high in the air to show her how tall I was talking and I struggled to think of an NBA player that she might’ve seen back in “the motherland.”

Nick nudged me.  “Try Vlade, son,” he whispered.

“Like this tall?” I stretched again.  “Like Vlade Divac[12]?”

[12] A Yugoslavian Basketball player that rose to fame and fortune in the American National Basketball Association.  http://www.nba.com/search/?text=Vlade+Divac

You should’ve seen it, Jess, she sat upright and nodded.  And to think, you’ve always said that my slavish devotion to watching NBA games every Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday is a waste.  Who’s right now?  That’s what I thought.  But, I digress.  Nick slapped me on the shoulder and shook his head in wonderment.  “So that was a guy out there.  That frickin’ dude was huge, man.”  He paused as we all began to wonder the same thing.

“Wait,” I said, sitting down gently next to her feet.  “That huge dude was running from you?  Why?  He might’ve been the biggest guy that I’ve ever seen.  He was, like, Andre the Giant huge.”

“You saw him?” She sat up, again, leaning very close to me.

“Yeah.  He wasn’t but maybe 5 minutes ahead of you, I don’t think.”

This statement seemed to get her all amped up.  She rattled off a bunch of rapid fire questions, asking which way we’d seen him going.  What he looked like.  If he was stumbling or walking along smoothly.  We weren’t sure what her deal was with this guy, but she seemed really into him.  Finally, as night fell, she started to drift off a little bit.  I told her she could stay here tonight.  But before you go firing off a rapid fire e-mail back to me, telling me not to try to get some action, don’t worry.  I’m way too tired for any perversion.  Seriously.  That’s how tired I am.  My comp’s about out of battery but I’ll e-mail you more of the details when they come in.  What a freaking day!

Later Sis,


TO BE CONTINUED. . .Unless everyone hates it, in which case I’ll only subject you to Part I.

  1. Sue Tolles says:

    we want part 2, we liked it. I think I went on the same quest when I was in school. I was saved because no cell phones or e-mail.

  2. madhat says:

    OH, please continue. I’m inspired to go read our graphic novel copy (school library)right now so as to appreciate your twists on the original. Really chuckled over Jim Beam and Jack Daniels’ Trail!

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