It is a dark and stormy night.
Three thunderous knocks on a door.
The heavy door creaks open, faint classical music in background.
VIKTOR: Oh God, it’s you, Monster.
MORRIE: Master, we’ve been through this. (beat) You know I prefer Morrie.
VIKTOR: (sighs) What do you want?
MORRIE: I was just leaving the barn and noticed all the chandeliers blazing away in the mansion. Are you … having a party?
VIKTOR: What?! No… Nooo, I was just … looking for something.
MORRIE: And you left the candles burning in all the rooms?
VIKTOR: Morrie, you may not have noticed this, but, I’m really, really rich.
MORRIE: Well, see, I also thought I heard music.
VIKTOR: Oh! Um, Gundula is just messing about on the piano.
MORRIE: I thought I heard strings.
VIKTOR: She’s lilting the violin part.
MORRIE: There’s more than one violin part, it’s the Trout Quintet.
VIKTOR: She’s throwing her voice.
A faint trumpet.
MORRIE: That was a trumpet!!
VIKTOR: Okay!! Fine! (beat) I have a small chamber orchestra in the mansion, because (beat) I am in fact … having a party.
MORRIE: And you didn’t invite me… (beat) Are Dracula’s Wyrd Sisters here?
VIKTOR: That’s Count Dracula to you, peasant! And … yes, they are. And what’s it to you whether they’re here or not anyway? You’re a married man!
MORRIE: HA! Some marriage. She can’t stand the sight of me!
VIKTOR: Oh come on, you two were literally made for each other.
MORRIE: You were there! She took one look at me, and screamed. Not a word, just a shriek of despair when she saw my face.
VIKTOR: Well, who wouldn’t shriek when they see your face for the first time.
MORRIE: What?…
VIKTOR: Without wishing to hurt your feelings, Morrie, I could have done better. This hideous looking face, the bolts, I mean, you’re not my best work. If we’re being perfectly honest I was only 60-40 certain of success with you. If I’d been 80-20 I would have rooted around the graveyard a bit more for better materiel, like I did with the Bride. That’s why she’s such a knockout.
MORRIE: Talking of knockouts! (beat) HUBBA HUBBA! Who is that foxy lady?
Viktor slams the door shut. Faint music disappears.
VIKTOR: Are you trying to get us both torn limb from limb?! You better hope she didn’t hear that. You can’t call her a foxy lady, she’s a wolf-woman. That happens to be Miss Lycanthrope Bohemia.
MORRIE: Oh Master, you got to let me in to this party.
VIKTOR: No, absolutely not. You can’t come in, for two reasons. First, I have a lot of sophisticated ladies in there. Not only do I have Miss Lycanthrope Bohemia, but I also have three former Miss Transylvanias; one of whom went on to be Miss Balkans The last thing I need is you (beat) rampaging around the place roaring ‘HUBBA HUBBA’ at them. Second, I have the Golem of Prague in there, and he’s a very nervous character. One look at your misbegotten misshapen just awful face and he might go to pieces, literally. Then instead of driving him home to the Chief Rabbi in my best carriage in the morning, I’m shipping him back in crates. And Shlomo is a personal friend. I don’t want to tell him he’s got to do the Kabbalah magick from scratch again over some clay because my Monster scared the life out of his Golem.
MORRIE: (beat) Sometimes I think you just try to be hurtful.
VIKTOR: Oh, don’t I do enough for you, Morrie? For instance, don’t you and the Bride have to go to couples counselling at 9 tonight, with the therapist I suggested?
MAURICE: How did you know that?
VIKTOR: What?
MAURICE: We always go at 5, but Dr Bergmann sent a carrier pigeon to the barn earlier, moving it to 9, and I haven’t been out since then, and neither has the Bride, so… Wait…
Viktor noisily opens the door. Faint music reappears.
VIKTOR: So, if you’ll just be on your way, I have a party to get back to…
MAURICE: (beat) The only way you would have known … it had been moved to 9 … was if you asked Dr Bergmann to move it to 9, just to keep me away while you were having a party!
VIKTOR: Okay!! Fine! You got me.
MAURICE: Master, if you don’t let me in to this party, I’m, I’m going to do something drastic!
VIKTOR: Oh yeah, like what?
MAURICE: I’m, I’m going to gatecrash the next party you throw. And by God, won’t you be sorry then, Viktor!
VIKTOR: That’s Baron Frankenstein to you, peasant!
Viktor slams the door, then immediately creaks it open again.
VIKTOR: If you pass Igor on your way tell him to forget the new silverware, the werewolves are being picky enough eaters as it is without that slap in the face.