Showing posts with label Mad Scientist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mad Scientist. Show all posts

Monday, May 27, 2019

‘Transylveinya Traveler’ is here!

By Jack O. Lantern
‘Head’ Writer/Editor

TRANSYLVEINYA -- Finally, that trip you’ve been planning to the monster homeland can be attained by securing your very own copy of “Transylveinya Traveler: A Travel Guide for Monsters, Ghosts, Vampires, Aliens, Werewolves, Witches, Zombies, Demons … And Mad Scientists, Too.” 

Click HERE to purchase. And don’t forget to rate with five stars and add rave reviews with lots of big, fancy words.

Todd Durham, creator of “Hotel Transylvania,” calls the book “monsterlicious!”

Jack Perez, director of “Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus,” “Monster Island” and “Some Guy Who Kills People,” is equally excited.

“I’ve dealt with giant sharks, mutated insects and decapitation-happy psychopaths, but I didn’t know anything until I read this book,” he said. “It’s the ultimate tour of our monster-happy universe.”

Monsters everywhere received news of the book’s release early this morning, and left their tombs, haunted houses, castles, labs and swamps to grab a copy. They’ll soon be at your doorstep to haunt you until you get yours.

And while you wait for the book to arrive and for your mail carrier to navigate your deadly, piranha-infested moat out front, check out the Jack-o’-Lantern Press Podcast from the creators of the guide.

To listen on Apple Podcasts, click HERE.

Spotify users, direct your mice to THIS and click.

The Jack-o’-Lantern Press Podcast is also available on other platforms as well. Just search it. And prepare to be blown away because JackoLanternPress.com creators, Michael Picarella and Tom Picarella, really know what they’re doing.

Now why are you still reading this post? Go on over HERE and get the book already. Sheesh!

Wednesday, September 5, 2018

Brains reported missing

MAD SCIENCE DISTRICT -- Over 100 brains from the Brain Barn on Brain Street were reported missing this evening. Sources said zombies broke in and stole them. “I know they didn’t even use them to create life or to try to take over the world,” said mad scientist Bill T. Toolast. “Those selfish dumb-dumbs no doubt ate them for their own good. Minds are terrible things to waste.”

Thursday, August 30, 2018

Mad doctor ticked over hearse parked in front of his house

MAD SCIENCE DISTRICT -- A mad doctor on Doom Drive has been raising Hell about a hearse parked in front of his house. It’s trash day and Dr. Youmest Withthawrongguy has no place to put his cans. “The thing’s been there all week,” Withthawrongguy said. “I don’t know who it belongs to, but I’ve got eight cans full of a failed operation I scrapped over the weekend that I have to put out along the curb, and there’s no room.” The vehicle showed up Saturday night, and by Tuesday, Withthawrongguy reported it to his homeowners association. Nothing was done. Last night the doc called the city to have the  mortuary transport vehicle towed. Still nothing, just spider web slowly building up on the wheels. Going into it, Withthawrongguy understood the consequences of his actions, his wife begged him not to do it and his neighbors tried to hold him back, even fired shots at him to stop. But he went ahead and did it anyway. He wrote a strongly worded letter and stuck it on the windshield. What’s done is done.

Monday, August 27, 2018

Letters from the Lab: Werewolf pet project gonna have to wait

By The Mad Scientist
Columnist

MAD SCIENCE DISTRICT -- I got back to the lab yesterday, tired.

Some mad scientists get to spend their entire days trying to take over the world. I work a day job.

It all started a few weeks ago, when the wife and I were going through our finances and we noticed, as of late, that we’d been spending far too much money on robot armies, magnifying rays and, of course, more books -- every lab needs an unhealthy supply of books.

So I decided to get a job over at Evil-more Shopping Mart down on Doom Drive. Yesterday, it was one of those coupon days at the store and the place was packed with mad men and women coming in for price adjustments on brains, body parts, corpses . . . You mame it. Needless to say, I had my share of exposure to imbeciles for a while, even though I’m due back at the place five days of the week, every week for the time being.

Anyway, I got home from work, and the wife called and asked to pick up the kid from mad scientist school and take him to grave-robbing practice. Then she told me she was running late due to traffic on the moving sidewalk, and she wanted to know if I could make dinner, too.

I heated up some leftover chemical creations I’d scienced up over the weekend, and by the time I’d picked up the kid, the wife got home and we’d all had dinner, I was too tired to tinker with my little pet project in the basement. The guy I had tied up down there turned into a werewolf -- because it was a full moon last night -- and even though I had him hooked up to the machines and everything, I just didn’t feel like going through the whole process of transferring his lycanthrope energy over to the man-made monster I’ve been working on here and there for the past six months.

I ended up staying upstairs in my favorite chair in my study, falling asleep listening to episode after episode of this serialized murder-mystery podcast I recently discovered.

Tonight, there’s another full moon out. But it was also another coupon day at the store, another day of price adjustments and imbeciles, another night of picking up the kid, dropping off the kid and making dinner, and another night that that werewolf in my basement is gonna go through his transformation hooked up to all those machines again, and my man-made monster project’s gonna have to wait yet again, probably till the next full moon. I’ve just gotta say that this podcast I’m listening to is really gettin’ good!

Friday, August 25, 2017

Transyl-vein-ia Hills fillers, bits and bulletins to KILL time

Missing -- Pet devil bat, 102 years old, around 250 pounds, red scales, bloodstained razor sharp teeth, mean as hell, goes by the name of Fluffy. Call Bill at 666-1313 with info.

For Sale -- Glove with knives as fingernails. Used, but only in a few dreams. Needs sharpening. Very effective, especially on reckless teens with wild imaginations. Best offer. Will throw in red and green striped sweater if the offer’s right. Place your bids at RealNightmares.mon.

Halloween Tree Sprouts Odd Pumpkin -- A typical Halloween tree is hung with gourds of all shapes and sizes, each with a face burned through it. Hundreds of pumpkins, hundreds of grins, hundreds of flickering lights behind those grins. One such pumpkin hanging from one such tree in Transyl-vein-ia Pines grew large and round on a giant, overhanging branch, and the face that burned through the shell came in the form of a hashtag and several letters: #ThisHalloween’sGonnaBeSoLit.

Looking for Spook to Haunt House with -- Lonely, trapped in house on Stormy Night Place with plenty of unsuspecting trespassers on nightly basis. Looking for a fellow specter who also likes to moan, wander halls, play dusty old pipe organ, move candelabras and make scary noises with chains. Email Ms.LonelyButNoHeart@yaBOO.mon.

Got Web? -- Looking for more spider-webbing in your home? House deteriorator with entire life experience (three years) spinning web in structures to make rooms look more “not lived in.” Can create big expanses across large staircases in open foyers, able to catch small flying insects and people, too. Will deteriorate houses in no time for fraction of cost you’d pay a big-time Darwin’s bark spider. Call Charlotte at 666-WEBB.

Electricity Fun Fact -- The average Transyl-vein-ia Hills citizen uses just 6,000,000,000 joules of energy (approximately six bolts of lightning) every stormy night for creature creations. How much do you use?

Looking for Spook with House -- Tired of bouncing around. Wanted: Mature ghost who enjoys spooking, wandering halls, playing a dusty old organ, moving candelabras and making scary noises with chains. Hoping to settle down. Candidates must already have house you’re forced to haunt for eternity. Summons me from Hell by ringing a bell.

Werewolf Walker for Hire -- Born and raised in Transyl-vein-ia Hills, now a student at Blue Moon HS in Werewolftown. Have plenty of experience with lycanthropes. It’s my major, too, and I’m half lyc. Looking for part-time work. Will walk your werewolves for nearly nothing. Just throw me a bone. Email WolfWalker@BlueMoonHS.mon.

Crow Fun Fact -- A flock of crows is known as a murder. Can someone say crow party?

Please Fund Me -- Worried about blood misters coming to town and depleting precious blood resources? Afraid portals between human world and monster world will close on Halloween, leaving you or hated ones in the human world? I’m an up-and-coming mad scientist with big, crazy ideas. Send me the money to rent space in the Mad Science District and get equipment of my own. Not one of those scientists with only goals to take over the world. Want to save it first. Donate to my page at Wilma.ThrowMeTheMoney.mon.

Project X House Needed -- Looking to throw huge rager. Big old house desired, preferably one on hilltop against full moon for witches to fly by throughout the night. Squeaking front door a must for skeletons to open creepily and wave guests in. Trees out front required so ghosts can swirl through. Multiple gables a plus for spooky owls and menacing crows to perch atop. Rusty gate that black cats can dance across. Plenty of gravestones for spirits to peek-a-BOO! out of. Should be in a peaceful neighborhood for party to disrupt. Send house pics to NextX@HooHooHaHa.com

Saliva Fun Fact -- Human saliva has a boiling point three times that of regular water, while monster saliva boils humans.

Random Fun Fact -- Fun facts are fun.

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Robot dance club gets needed reboot

By The Weird Scientist
Staff Tech Writer
 
MAD SCIENCE DISTRICT -- Critics of the Robot Lounge and Dance Club on Doom Drive called the dance moves at the once hot spot tired and predictable, but with new charging stations and update jacks right in the walls and at the tables, there’s been an unsuspected robot uprising there.

Even terminator machines have been going.

“I can’t calculate what my dance partner is gonna do anymore,” said a sweaty, but not winded and certainly fully-charged T-666 who was speaking to the press late last night at the club. “You can bet that each night when I’m return from the past where I’m looking for the leader of the human resistance, I’ll be here at Robot Lounge puttin’ on the moves. And if I start to slow or become a little dull, I simply plug in and get what I need. This place is back, just like me!”

The T-666 was caught doing some dope hand hops, flares, head spins and even the jam boogie on the dance floor.

“Before, we could only do moves like The Sprinkler, The Cabbage Patch, The Lawnmower and, one of my favorites, The Running Man,” said the T-13, another terminator. “We could operate heavy artillery and mimic human life, but we couldn’t do The Moonwalk to save our operating systems. Now I’m a real dancing machine . . . literally!”

According to Robot Lounge officials, robot patrons will also be able to get firmware updates and USB-imported snacks at the bar. You can even get service packs, hot fixes and other goodies with enhanced features, intelligence and new sub-routines, which will be available in the restrooms where you can dump old files in the trash (or recycle bins, depending on your O.S.).

And while robots are thrilled to have a great place to go and play, hackers are already trying to create viruses to infiltrate the lounge’s network.

“A robot uprising is one thing,” said the leader of one mad scientist group in the area looking to take over the world. “An uprising with robots who dare, dream, smile, sing loudly and dance is something totally different.

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

President Dracula continues to add controversial blood misters to patios, causes problem at Mad Science store


By The Angry Scientist
Staff Pissed-Off Writer
 
MAD SCIENCE DISTRICT -- New mandatory blood misters at the Evil-More Shopping Mart on Doom Drive have damaged at least 10 pallets of human eyeballs that were put outside the store to be sold starting Monday.

The outdoor display of merchandise was placed there as a promotion for mad scientists who pass by on their way to the Mad Science Convention down the street. The convention, which began on Monday and goes through Friday night, has brought in mad scientists from all over the world.

“It was a no-brainer to put brains and organs and eyeballs out front to lure in customers,” said Evil-More Merchandising Manager Maad Murchent. “We knew mad scientists would be in need of some last-minute things before their presentations at the convention. We wanted merchandise to jump out at them as they drove by. On Monday night, when the eyeballs stopped popping out at passersby, we knew something was up.”

Last week, Count Dracula took the presidential office of Transyl-vein-ia by storm, and his first piece of legislation was an order to install blood misters on patios and in other outdoor areas at Downtown Transyl-vein-ia establishments. The project was met with criticism, as the blood mist immediately began making a bloody mess, according to some.

The President hasn’t budged on his position. He’s extended the legislation to include the required installation of blood misters in the Mad Science District. Evil-More Shopping Mart was one of the first places to get the misters and already, the mad scientist supply shop is having trouble.

“We sold over 200 eyeballs on Monday alone,” Murchent said, “and they’ve all come back. Monsters are saying they put them in their creations, and then when the creations came to life, they were knocking over beaker tables and crashing into gurneys.”

Upon examination of the returned merchandise, Murchent and his RTV clerk determined that the blood mist in the air from the blood misters out in front of the store damaged the eyesight in the eyeballs.

“You see, they don’t see with stained lenses,” Murchent said. “And since these eyeballs don’t have eyelids out there on display, the blood couldn’t be wiped away and it bled into the eyes and permanently damaged them.”

Murchent said his RTV clerk had to send over 300 eyeballs back to the vendor. But they couldn’t even get credit. The vendor told them all sales were final and returned the eyeballs to the store.

“Not only did we incur that loss,” Murchent said, “but we also have customers vowing to never shop at our store again. We gave away tons of free stitches and electrical wire just for the inconvenience. Some scientists said they’d never buy non-organic eyeballs again. We don’t carry organic eyes, so that screws us. Now we’re thinking of looking into organic products, and we all know that stuff’s just a waste of money.”

Even with the loss, President Count Dracula won’t allow Evil-More to shut off their blood misters. The blood must go on, he told them.

So, beginning today, Evil-More Shopping Mart invites one and all to come see the giant sale on aisle 13: Eyeballs for half the price!

Monday, October 24, 2016

Letters from the Lab: Cookies with Dr. Binary and a plot to take over world

By The Mad Scientist
Columnist

I don’t typically enjoy visiting other mad scientists in their home labs because it’s often a pain in the gluteus maximus to get there (these places are usually out of the way, you have to go up against life-threatening forces, cross over deadly chasms and/or moats, and you’re always tested to use some unique talent or intellect to bypass gates or alarms), but I made an exception recently following one of my latest failures.

Now, I’ve blown up my lab hundreds of times before. But when you destroy your life’s work for the tenth time in a row, you tend to want to confirm that others are bigger failures than you. So I called up an old friend, Dr. Benjamin Binary, and asked what he was up to, and it turns out he’d been working on an experiment way out in Transyl-vein-ia’s Bigfoot National Park for some time and he wanted me to check it out.

“Hello,” said the mechanical voice on the other end of the line when I called. “Thank you for calling Dr. Benjamin Binary’s Lair, how may I assist you?”

After having a warm conversation with the voice (we talked about the weather and how to manipulate it, the latest robot uprising and, of course, the upcoming NBA season), I asked how to get to Binary’s domicile, and the voice told me.

Just as expected, it was going to be one big pain. The voice set up an appointment for me to meet with someone named Lorenzo at Footers Lodge at the foot of Bigfoot National Park.

I packed up my books and was on my way. Upon my arrival, some lady at the front desk tried convincing me to turn around and go home.

“You’ll never survive the journey,” she told me.

“Sounds like fun,” I said. “When do we start?”

She set me up with Lorenzo and he put me through a boot camp that would help me get through the park to Binary’s Lair. My trainers taught me how to survive on the land, start campfires without using computers or lasers . . . In fact, they made me relinquish all my technology.

“This is nature’s wonderland out here,” one of my trainers said. “Bigfoot catches you with any kind of electronics or robotics, he won’t eat you. He’ll just bat you around until you’re a bloody pulp. And that’s when he’ll really have some fun with you.”

“Sounds like fun,” I said. “When do we start?”

Unfortunately, it was my understanding that Bigfoot had already taken off for the human world for the Halloween season, so I had to come to grips with the fact that I might not have any run-ins with him.

When I finished boot camp, Lorenzo got me fully equipped to survive my lone hike out to Binary’s place. He got me the right clothing, some boots, a survival knife, a few flashlights, a selfie stick to take photos with Bigfoot in the event he was still in town, etc.

“If you wanna live,” Lorenzo told me before sending me on my way, “keep fires going all night, stay near the water’s edge and keep your food sealed. Bigfoot may not be here, but the bears are. And they’re not your typical household grizzly. They’re mean in these parts.”

My journey through Bigfoot National Park is a story in and of itself, but it’s for another time. It’s filled with twists and turns, creatures and lots and lots of bugs. I never did come across Bigfoot, but I was running for my life on more than one occasion.

I eventually made it to Binary’s lair. The entrance door was massive. I have to admit -- I was a little jealous. It had blinking lights, buttons and spinning gadgets that may or may not have had any purpose, but they sure looked cool.

I located a green button on a speaker box and pressed it. The same voice I spoke with about weather, robots and the NBA greeted me via the speaker.

“Hello, sir,” the voice said. “Welcome to Doctor Benjamin Binary’s Evil Lair, sponsored by Gore Gardens.”

How’d he get that sponsor? I’ve been trying to get them for years.

Anyway, the voice was as friendly as I remember from our phone call. And then it became angry.

“I’m going to take over your thoughts and end you,” it said. It was like it became a different person altogether. Then it became friendly again. “Come on in and have some cookies.”

The cookies were actually quite good. They were chocolate chip. Super soft. Had to have been fresh out of the oven.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” the voice said. “I bake in my spare time.”

I was standing in the middle of an empty, cement foyer. Then a large door in the wall opened, and beyond the doorway was a set of cement stairs that went down.

I took the stairs and found myself in a large round room. As I stepped off the last step, the wall closed up over the stairwell and I was trapped. Then, in the center of the room, a large, green holographic image of someone who called himself The Guardian appeared. I’ll tell you this: Binary did not get any of this stuff at Evil-More Shopping Mart back in the Mad Science District. It was impressive.

“I am The Guardian,” the green man said. “I’m a powerful virtual construct created by Dr. Benjamin Binary. I’m here to monitor all scientific experiments.”

I knew it. This is why I hate visiting other mad scientists. You can never just go hang out. It’s gotta be part of some elaborate plan.

“Am I an experiment?” I asked. “Because if I am, I don’t have time for this. I’ve got my own experiments to run.”

“Silence!” The Guardian yelled at me, only he changed from green to red as he said it. “I’m no guardian, but I will take over your mind and destroy the world.” Then he became green again. “Would you like some more cookies, first?”

A table came up out of the floor with some more of those awesome cookies. As I took a bite out of another one of those soft babies, the green man offered his apologies and said he was actually Dr. Benjamin Binary.

“Ben?” I asked. “Is that really you? Are you the one behind these cookies? Because they’re damn good.”

“Silence!” he said as he changed colors to red again.

“Sorry,” he said one more time as he turned back to green. “I’m stuck in my own creation and I can’t get out. This system has taken over my every thought and I’m trapped. Do you like the cookies?”

“Yeah,” I said. “They’re really good. And really soft.”

“Remind me to tell you about how I make them,” he said. “I actually made that batch three years ago. In any event, I need your help to get me out of here.”

I told him I’d help, provided he set me up with the cookie recipe, and then he flipped again. The red man screamed at me, told me to come closer. He complained that his other self wouldn’t let him do any of the things he wanted to do like take over the world.

“I’ve embedded myself into every system you can think of,” the red man said. “And now I have access to all of those systems. I’ve been devising a plan to shut down the grid and take over the world, but every time I go to do it, my pesky other self takes over and tries to end me.”

Just then, the red man became green. It was like a tug of war between these two entities to take over the holographic form in front of me.

“Don’t listen to me,” the green man said. “It’s not me. If it takes over the world, it won’t be me who is doing the taking over. And I can’t have that. I want to be the one taking it over. I want the glory.”

“Ben,” I said. “I can’t have either one of you taking over the world. As you know, I have my own plans.”

The green man said the red man’s plan was going to work, though. What a slap in the face.

“Look,” he said, “it’s nothing personal. But you know I was always the better mad scientist.”

“Yeah,” I said, “you’re so much better that you’re stuck in a hologram that changes colors more often than a traffic light.”

“Never mind that,” he said. “I’m working on getting through the firewall on this thing. If I can do that, I can end the red man’s attack. But if I can’t get through, he’ll continue taking over and I’ll be a goner in less than three hours and he’ll own you, too. So it’s good you got here when you did. How are you, by the way? How’s Ethel?”

We talked about the weather and how to manipulate it, the latest robot uprising and, of course, the upcoming NBA season, and then he told me how I could help end the red man.

“If we don’t do this,” he said, “he’s going to unpack this new technology he created called Packet Encapsulation. He embeds himself around network packets like a capsule of a pill, which allows him to see everything over the wire. He can encapsulate anything and everything. He can morph the packets, duplicate them or change them into anything he wants. It’s sorta complicated. But if he gets this technology around the world, he will take it over, there’s no doubt. And, as stated previously, we can’t have that. If anyone is gonna take over the world, it’s gonna be me, which was also stated previously.”

No, it’s gonna be me.

So I set out to help him end the red man. I’d deal with the green man and Binary later, I thought. I went to a circular panel on the floor near the hologram, opened it and pressed the green and red buttons simultaneously.

“How dare you tell this man our plans!” the red man said upon his return to the room. “How dare you get him involved! Now we must destroy him!”

The green man came back with more instructions and a warning to hurry.

“Hurry,” he said again. “He’s trying to get rid of me right now. Now push the yellow button five times and then punch in the code, ‘DESTRUCTION.’ It’s case sensitive, so use the cap locks, please.”

I don’t remember anything after I typed in the code. When I woke up in the hospital this morning, I asked how I got here and one of the nurses told me someone in a cloak dumped me off at the front door, then fled the scene in a rush.

I don’t know if the red man or the green man was victorious over poor Dr. Benjamin Binary. All I know is that there were reports of a huge explosion in Bigfoot National Park two days ago, which means, in my book, whoever won didn’t take over anything.

So the world is still up for grabs.

I’d say it’s time for me to get back to my own work.

The Mad Scientist is a mad man with evil on his mind always and plans to take over the world at any given time. He lives in a castle on Lab Lane in the Mad Science District of Transyl-vein-ia.