I swear, if I have to clean up intestines off the ceiling again, I'll quit. Work for Doctor Frankenstein, my father said. That's an honorable job, he said. What's honorable about procurement of fresh cadavers and disposal of what's left of them?

But as much as I despise Doctor's many failed experiments, I fear the day when he succeeds and one of his cadavers awakens. And when it opens its eyes for the first time, I wonder what it will think of the bloodstains on the ceiling.