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In Which Jane Meets a New Friend

by on January 25, 2017

The life of an Igor is not all it’s cracked up to be. The life of an ex-Igor, on the other hand, is even worse.  You can manage to get an interview with a reputable company, you dress professional and practice your responses, and then you get asked about your prior work. There’s no good answer to that for an Igor. “Well, Mr. Jones, I assisted a mad scientist in reanimating dead tissue and unleashing horrible monsters into the living world.”

The interview usually ends after that. You never get a call back.

Frankly, you’re lucky if you even get an interview. I spent five years as an Igor. Five years leaves a gaping hole on your resume. Before that I worked in a pharmacy. I suppose I could have lumped the two together and said I was in medical work, but that seemed dishonest. Besides, I still would have gotten the questions.

The doctor wrote me a nice reference. He actually typed it himself, slid it in the envelope along with my severance check. The check lasted for two months. The reference was worse than useless. I couldn’t ask a reputable employer to call up my old mad scientist boss and inquire about my work. I couldn’t include the letter with an application packet. Once again, I was stuck with a gaping hole on my resume and no way to fill.

There was, of course, the obvious choice. I tentatively reached out to my friends in the Igor community to see if any other mad scientists were hiring. Nobody was. Even Sheila in Wisconsin, my longest friend in the Igor world, couldn’t help. Meanwhile, I was stuck at home, trying to get on somewhere.  I lost my health insurance (which was surprisingly good, considering it was offered by a mad scientist), and I couldn’t get unemployment benefits from the government. You think it’s bad telling employers you used to work for a mad scientist; try telling the state. The IRS had already sent me two ominous letters and a postcard. Things were getting bad.

It was Monday night.  I sat there, in my kitchen, staring at the empty box of cereal. I didn’t have enough left of my severance pay to get more. I had no idea what to do. Then I heard a knock at the door.

I expected to see a salesman, or perhaps some kid selling candy bars so he could go to camp. What I got, framed in eerie moonlight, was a towering creature with flowing black hair and gray skin. I noticed two shiny metal bolts on its neck, and gasped. Those were my bolts. I had purchased them myself from Home Depot. The doctor had asked me to get them when I was an Igor. Which could only mean….

“Oh dear,” I said. “You’re alive. This is a problem.”


 

This story was written for the yeah write weekly writing challenge. Thanks for reading! 

 

 

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From → Jane the Igor

9 Comments
  1. Your protagonist is alive in your mind, I swear. Each week I wait for the next part of your story.

    I think what I like most is your protagonist’s sense of humor. Thanks for sharing again, Micheal!

    • When you’re an ex-Igor confronted by the monster created by your old boss, I think a sense of humor is essential. 😉

  2. Poor Jane! I can’t imagine the Doctor’s monster being super reasonable.

    • I wouldn’t imagine either. It depends on whether the monster’s the super eloquent and versed one in the original book, or the zombie-like kind you get in later films. I haven’t decided that yet. 🙂

  3. I think I need to start at the beginning. All credit to you for making it engaging even for someone like me. 🙂

  4. A problem — or perhaps an opportunity! I am hoping Jane’s new friend proves useful in her current dire straits. Can wait to see what happens next!

  5. I love the matter of fact, this is a real thing, tone of this series.

  6. The life of an Igor didn’t sound like anything relatable to me, but as I read on I love how you used completely relatable examples to make me connect. Quite entertaining!

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