Frankenstein's Monster and the Bride of Frankenstein sit in their car waiting to go into Dracula's Halloween party. The Monster turns off the car, but doesn't get out. The Bride notices.
"You know what's wrong," The Monster says, staring at the steering wheel.
She sighs. She has seen this out of him before.
"Is this going to be a problem every year?"
The Monster shakes his head, his black crew cut hair barely moving.
"I don't want it to be, but they just make fun of me every year." he says. "I hate going to these parties."
"Then why'd I even get dressed up?" she asks. "I spent three hours on this hair, you know."
The Monster reaches over to grab her hand.
"I know, and I love taking you out. I really do," he says.
"But?" she asks, pulling her hand away.
"I hate how they make me feel," he says. "They laugh at my flat head and my shoes. Don't they know they're correcting my flat arches?"
"Probably honey," she says. "You tell them every year."
The Monster glances toward the house.
"God, and those Jewish jokes," he says. "Nobody thinks they're funny, not even Renfield. How many times do I have to tell everyone that Frankenstein was the Doctor's name, not mine, and I don't even think he was Jewish."
"Did he love his mother?" she asks.
"I'm just saying," she says. "If he loved his mother than he was Jewish, if not then probably a Gentile."
Frankenstein wrinkles his brow and waves off this part of their conversation with his hand.
"What about the bolts Karen?" he asks her. "Every year Vlad or Dracula or the Prince of Darkness or whatever he's going by nowadays, wants to connect those jumper cables to them and see what happens. Wants to see if they will make me smart, less s... less sl..., SLOW!"
This time it is the Bride who reaches over and takes his hand. "Why don't you just stand up to him?"
"It's too late now," he says. "I've smiled uncomfortably and played along for too long and I'd hate to make a scene. Hey, maybe this year somebody else will get the brunt of it."
"And here we go again." she says, taking her hand away once again.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asks.
"Who would you have them pick on, Frank?" she asks. "The Wolfman?"
"Why not," he says. "He still pees in the bushes, but that doesn't piss off Mr. Widow's peak now does it?"
"How about the Creature from the Black Lagoon? Maybe we could get people started on him?"
"I know he's got that water dependency and everything, but does he need to bring that kiddie pool with him every single year?"
"Don't forget the worst of them all," she says. "The Mummy."
The Monster breaks into a smile for the first time.
"You mean the walking Toilet Paper Roll?"
They both laugh.
"Feel better?" she says with a warm smile.
"You know exactly how to cheer me up," he says, leaning over and kissing her.
"I only do that to show you that you're not alone," she says. "A lot of your friends are weird. Besides Dracula's wives with their slutty get ups always make me feel a little insecure. I mean honestly it's not fair how their undead rigor mortis helps them in the cleavage department."
"You're right," he says. "Let's go have a good time anyway, huh?"
"Ok," she says, smiling.
"You look ravishing by the way," he says, smiling back.
"And you look stoic as always." She pats his face. They kiss again and get out of the car.
Not two seconds later as they make their way up the sidewalk.
"Look who it is, Mr. Green Face Square Shoes," Dracula yells, from the house. "I didn't think Jewish Monsters could come to party on a Friday night."
Several monsters howl in laughter. The Wolfman just plain howls.
"Mummy," Dracula shouts. "Get my jumper cables."
The Monster and The Bride hurriedly get back in the car.
"Our neighbors are having a party," the Monster says, starting up the car.
"The Thompsons or the Millers?" shes asks, buckling up.
"You haven't tried to throw their daughter in the lake this year, right?"
"Right," he says.
"To the Thompsons," she says.
Their car drives off.