Of English Accents, Lightning Storms, and Monsters
"In the minds of many horror aficionados, [Lionel] Atwill's greatest performance came in a supporting part--as the unforgettable, wooden-armed Inspector Krogh in Son of Frankenstein. Constructed with equal parts bottled rage and gallows humor, Krogh ranks as the most completely assembled supporting character of Universal's entire Frankenstein series (unless you count Bela Lugosi's Ygor, who became the de facto star of Son and Ghost of Frankenstein). Krogh also remains the only hero from the entire canon of Universal horror classics who's as much fun to watch as the studio's monsters and mad scientists." -- Mark Clark, author of Smirk, Sneer and Scream: Great Acting in Horror Cinema.
"Well, don't stand there like a cow, blow them out," said my sister Trixie.
"Don't rush me. I'm savoring the moment. You don't turn fifty-two more than once, you know." I pulled in a long breath, aimed all of it at the little plastic Grim Reaper standing defiantly in the middle of my name, and blew out the candles on my birthday cake. The Grim Reaper tipped over, but the point of his scythe held fast to the frosting. Damn.
"The Grim Reaper was my idea," said Zombos. "I knew you would get a kick out of it."
"How does it feel being fifty-two?" asked Zimba, pulling a candle out to lick the icing.
"A lot like fifty-one, only older," I replied.
Yes, the number fifty-two: it's the atomic number of tellurium. It's one of the tombstones in Goth: The Game of Horror Trivia. The Mayan Calendar moves through a complete cycle every fifty-two years. At age fifty-two, Alfred Hitchcock directed Strangers on a Train. Fifty-two is also the age at which Boris Karloff played the Frankenstein monster for the third and last time in a Universal film.
"What were you doing stumbling around the attic?" asked Trixie.
"Well, Zombos insisted he put his--"
"Oh, let's not start that again," said Zombos. "I distinctly remember putting--"
"Hush," said Zimba. "You'd forget where your own head was if it wasn't bolted on. Let's cut the cake!"
"I can help with that," volunteered Trixie. Before we could stop her she snapped her fingers. The cake split open down the middle, sending the Grim Reaper high into the air, along with most of the cake's icing. Zombos, who was standing nearest, pulled a candle out of his hair. Zimba handed him a napkin to wipe the icing off his glasses.
"Oops. Sorry. I thought I had that spell down pat," Trixie apologized. My sister's witchery skills did leave much to be desired.
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