It was a dark and stormy night when I stumbled into the mysterious shop in one of the city's winding side-alleys, seeking shelter from the pouring rain. The lights seemed to be out, but a sole candle was burning, its flickering flame sending shadows racing up and down the jumbled heaps of books.
"Yessss? What do you require"?
Omitting a startled yelp, I whirled in the direction of the hoarse whisper, in the process knocking over some books from one of the countless shelves. Suppressing a shudder, I crouched to pick them up.
"Sorry! Ah, I mean, I didn't mean to startle you, ah, you startled me, eh... I mean, I mean I was just looking for..."
The gaunt figure stood up, mostly hidden by shadows, and pulled its long limbs and many joints into the semblence of a man with eyes that seemed to shine a dull red. Its voice was no louder, but somehow more penetrating.
"Oh, never mind what you were looking for. Why don't you follow me into the sanctum? We can discuss it there, yessss?"
There was something tempting about the offer. It seemed to suggest warmth and darkness and tranquility. Still frozen in mid-crouch, I was about to dreamily obey.
CRACK-A-BOOM!
The thunder was almost instantly followed by a flash of lightning that threw the store into sharp blacks and whites, revealing the face of my host.
Only four blocks down the road did I notice I was still screaming as I ran, and that I couldn't stop. I attempted to put my hand over my mouth and suddenly understood I was clutching the book I was in the process of picking up.
This is how the curse came upon me. This is how I entered the pit. This is how I came to be in possession of Michael T. Gilbert's Mister Monster: His Books of Forbidden Knowledge, Volume One.
Well, not really. But if I was living in Mister Monster's world, it could have happened much like this - only it would have been funnier.
Mister Monster- known to the medical world as doctor Strongfort S. Stearn - lives atop Slaughter Mountain, where the rain never stops. He's that kind of guy, you know. His stately mansion is shared only by his assistant, the voluptuous Kelly Friday - and the occasional visitor in need of assistance. Our story opens with one of these visitors - Myron Clotz, an I.B.M employee who just happened to be bitten by a werewolf. Lycanthropy, it turns out, is the dumps - it's wrecking havoc with Myron's efficiency ratings, the mean guys at the were-devils athletic club demand he joins them and his romantic relationship with Millie Feinstein is off to a shaky start (he tried to rip out her throat, you see).
Article comments
1 - Bill Sherman
A wonderful series that deserves to stay in print. With some of MM's contemporaries - Zot! and Journey, for instance - currently receiving spiffy new trade collections, perhaps it's time for Gilbert's monster hunter to receive his due.
2 - Adam Klin Oron
Michael T. Gilbert contacted me with the following message:
"One correction though: I do have brand new copies of Mr. Monster Vol. 1 for sale, as well as most of the back issues in my Eeek-Mail Catalogue. I'll gladly sign any books ordered, and people can request a free e-mail catalog by writing to me at: mrmonster00 at yahoo.com"
So, people, what are you waiting for? Request away!