Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, boys and ghouls! Welcome to another electrifying episode of our Monster Mash-terpiece Theatre. Tonight, we're going to piece together the life story of everyone's favorite reanimated ragdoll, the bolt-necked behemoth himself – Frankenstein's Monster! So strap yourself to the nearest operating table, keep your eye on that lightning rod, and for the love of all that's holy, don't pull that switch! ...Oh, you pulled the switch. Well, I guess the show must go on. IT'S ALIVE! IT'S ALIVE! Our tale begins not in a dark and stormy castle laboratory, but in the surprisingly sunny climes of Geneva, Switzerland, in the summer of 1816. A group of literary luminaries, including Lord Byron, Percy Shelley, and his soon-to-be wife Mary Wollstonecraft Godwin (later Mary Shelley), were vacationing near Lake Geneva. Thanks to the eruption of Mount Tambora the previous year, 1816 was known as the "Year Without a Summer," which sounds like a great name for an emo band but was actually a climate disaster that forced our literary heroes to stay indoors. Bored out of their minds (apparently, charades can only entertain for so long), Byron suggested they each write a ghost story. Mary, only 18 at the time, struggled with writer's block until she had a waking dream of a "hideous phantasm of a man stretched out, and then, on the working of some powerful engine, show signs of life, and stir with an uneasy, half vital motion." And thus, Frankenstein's Monster was born – metaphorically, at least. The actual birth would involve a lot more grave robbing and electricity. Mary expanded her idea into the novel "Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus," published anonymously in 1818. The book tells the story of Victor Frankenstein, a scientist who decides playing God is a great career move, and creates a sapient creature in an unorthodox scientific experiment. Spoiler alert: it doesn't end well. It's like a cautionary tale about the dangers of science, or possibly about the importance of good parenting. Now, let's clear up a common misconception. "Frankenstein" is the name of the doctor, not the monster. The creature is never actually named in the book, which seems like a major oversight on Victor's part. You'd think after going through all the trouble of creating life, he'd at least grab a baby name book. Instead, the creature is referred to as "monster," "creature," "demon," "wretch," "abortion," "fiend," and "it." Talk about identity issues! In the novel, the monster is described as 8 feet tall, with yellowish skin that "barely disguised the workings of the arteries and muscles underneath," watery, glowing eyes, flowing black hair, and black lips. Essentially, he looked like a heavy metal rocker after a three-day bender. Despite his appearance, the monster was initially gentle and kind, with the mind of a newborn. It was only after being repeatedly rejected by humanity (and his deadbeat dad Victor) that he turned to violence. It's a tale as old as time – boy meets world, world rejects boy, boy swears vengeance on all of humanity. Tale as old as time, I tell you! The book was a hit, tapping into contemporary anxieties about scientific advancement and the Industrial Revolution. It's considered one of the earliest examples of science fiction, proving that even in the 1800s, people worried that technology would create monsters – although back then, the monster was made of corpse parts rather than ones and zeros. But it wasn't until the 20th century that our patchwork pal really shuffled into the spotlight. In 1931, Universal Pictures released "Frankenstein," directed by James Whale and starring Boris Karloff as the monster. This film gave us the iconic image of the monster we know today: tall, square-headed, with a flat-top hairdo, neck bolts, and a stylish dark suit. It was like Karloff raided Herman Munster's closet. Karloff's portrayal was a masterpiece of sympathetic monstrosity. Despite only grunting and groanin