How Can I Make a Monster? Little Howard's Big Question

My Halloween party's going to be the best one ever.

-Oh, really? What's your costume?

-I shall be King Kong.

But quite a lot smaller.

So you're going as a tiny giant ape?

Yes.

Isn't that just a monkey?

Ah, but I'll be holding this,

which is a real woman, so you can tell how huge I am.

Won't that just look like you're a monkey holding a doll?

You'll just look like a girl monkey.

-Oh.

-Either way, you're going to be busy for a while, are you?

Was there a Queen Kong?

Oh, you've got an RSVP, by the way.

Brilliant! What's an RSVP?

It's a reply to a party invitation.

It says, let's see,

"I'm comming" - spelt wrong - "to yur partee" - spelt wrong.

"I have alwayz wanted to eet you.

"Yours, a monster." Isn't that nice!

-A monster?

-Yes. I wonder what sort of child-eating monster he is.

He's going to eat me?

Well, if you think that's bad, his spelling is atrocious.

"Apply Orang-U-Tan tanning lotion VERY sparingly."

HORN SOUNDS

I've come up with another one of my big questions.

How can I make a monster?

HE MUMBLES

Sorry, I couldn't quite hear that.

You've got a little bit of something around your mouth.

And on your feet.

Oh, and there's a little bit on your hand, just there.

HORN SOUNDS

# I love monkeys, I love monkeys

# Oh, those happy little chirpy little monkeys

# With their tails and their bananas

# I think that if we all were monkeys we'd have happier mananas

# Get me monkeys, lots of monkeys

# Oh, you know that next to monkeys I adore

# If my love said that she did not love those monkeys

# I wouldn't love her any more. # Thank you very much!

Uh, phew!

Oh, what is that smell? Really, Big Howard, you could have waited.

It's not me! Has it occurred to you it might be coming from

the 12 festering undead monkey cadavers behind you?

Typical Big Howard, blame the festering undead monkey cadavers.

No, guys, I didn't say you smelled!

Argh!

Brilliant! You dressed up as the blob creature from the green lagoon.

That might scare off the monster.

Believe it or not, I didn't dump all this over myself on purpose.

It's tanning lotion. What monster?

A monster's written me an R-S-V-P-L.

-A what?

-He's coming to my party and he says he's going to eat me!

So I need to defend myself by making my own monster.

I haven't got time for this.

The reason I've applied this tan is I've got a new job presenting the

brand-new teatime quiz show for the elderly, Flummox Mum.

Am I a bit orange?

Ah-ha-ha! Ooh!

-It's noticeable, then, is it?

-You look like an orange

with extra artificial orange flavouring and colouring.

You look like a goldfish with orange fever from Orange County.

Yeah, I've got the message, thank you.

You look like a great big orange-faced monster,

like the one that's coming to eat me.

There's a monster coming to eat me!

There is not a monster coming to eat you.

There is. He sent me an R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

-A what?

-Just a little bit! Uh-huh!

-Do the monster maths, Big Howard.

I need to make my own monster to defend me

from the monster that's after me.

You can't make a monster. Jekyll and Hyde potions aren't real, you know.

Who and what potions?

Oh, dear.

Jekyll and Hyde.

It's a book about a man who drinks a potion and turns into a monster.

It's probably not worth remembering.

To the library! See you later, satsuma face.

Late on that accursed night, I compounded the elements,

watched them boil and smoke together in a glass,

and when the evolition had subsided,

with a strong glow of courage, drank off the potion.

This book's brilliant.

It's about a doctor who makes a potion and drinks it

and turns into a monster.

Yes, I know.

You have read all of it out loud.

Could you read it quietly, please?

Oh, sorry. Sorry, everyone. Sorry!

The most racking pangs succeeded, a grinding in the bones...

Ahem!

-Shall I read it in my head?

-Yes!

-These agonies began swiftly to subside.

-Get out!

-Ssh!

-Well, I was just telling him to...

I wonder if my elixir is finished yet.

It's hard to tell, because I don't have a clue what I am doing.

I need to test it, though. But on who?

The old switcheroo.

I've done it! I've made a monster!

SIREN BLARES

Back from the hospital, then?

IN CROAKY VOICE: Yes. Have we learnt anything

about giving people magic potions?

Yes, Big Howard. I won't be doing that again.

Not with those ingredients. Or at all!

-Are you all right?

-I am now. I don't know if it's noticeable at all,

but it has made my voice a little bit funny.

-Ha-ha! Very sorry, Big Howard.

-Not funny ha-ha.

-Sorry.

-I have to get it back to normal before we film Flummox Mum.

So far, your big question has dyed my skin orange

and has landed me in the toxicology unit of the hospital for three days.

If you've got any more experiments, please do them with Mother.

How's Big Howard?

-Have they detached the poo bag yet?

-I think so.

I could have really hurt him, couldn't I?

Oh, you poor dear.

Come and give Mummy a hug.

"Mummy"?

That was for saying you were going to eat Little Howard.

And no, you can't borrow any bandages.

Of course, if I make a mummy,

then that will help me beat the monster on Friday.

I need some pickle and lots of bog roll. And you, Mother.

Erm...

-Help!

-Don't worry,

I'm only going to bury you for about 2,000 or 3,000 years,

and then your horrific cadaver can burst forth from your ancient tomb!

And help me beat the monster on Friday.

They didn't bury mummies, they put them in the middle of pyramids.

OK. I'll bung a chunk of Toblerone on top.

Or perhaps a one of the other pyramid-shaped chocolate bars

available on the market.

But, erm, if you bury me,

who will tell you interesting facts about boxers?

OK, I'm listening, but I'm also still digging.

Erm, in 1922, the explorer Howard Carter broke into the tomb

of Tutankhamen, the Ancient Egyptian king,

and a sequence of disasters befell his team,

giving rise to the legend of the curse of the pharaohs!

Now we're talking. Did the mummy come

to life and rip them all to shreds?

Er, no, but their boss, Lord Carnarvon,

cut himself shaving and died.

-What? He lopped his own head off?

-Not quite.

He slightly grazed a mosquito bite and got blood poisoning and died.

Eventually.

-Is that it?

-Erm...

-I'm getting the pickling vinegar.

-Help!

PHONE RINGS

Hello!

MUFFLED VOICE

It's a monster!

COCKEREL CROWS

Morning! Looking forward to your party tonight?

It's not every day a little boy

gets to be eaten alive by a slabbering monster, you know.

What am I going to do?

I know, what if I expose you to a huge amount of radiation?

-You might mutate into a computer Godzilla.

-Agh!

Erm... Bats!

-It's just an idea.

-No, bats.

Get hold of bats and you can turn someone into a vampire.

A vampire?

Oh, zat is lovely.

-Is that Ribena?

-Oh, no.

Is that any other of the blackcurrant cordials

that are available on the market?

It's a cheeky little red

from a cheeky little red-haired boy. It is blood!

I find it most excellent for writing letters.

I'll take that "Argh!" as a yes.

I'll make some calls.

OK. But I don't want to go anywhere scary.

Oh, dear. It's a bit dark and scary.

Note to self - never listen to anything that Mother says.

This wasn't exactly what I had in mind,

being sent into a dark cave with... Aah! Vampire bats!

-These aren't vampire bats.

-Who are you?

I'm Gemma, and I'm a bat expert.

By "bat expert", do you mean vampire?

No, vampire bats were named after vampires, not the other way around.

So why do we think of bats when we think of vampires?

Bram Stoker.

Ooh. Is he someone who shovels high-fibre cereal into a high-fibre

cereal furnace of a high-fibre-cereal-driven train?

No, that's a bran stoker.

Bram Stoker was a novelist who wrote Dracula, and before that,

bats weren't even associated with vampires, which is sad, because

he's given bats such a bad name when really they're lovely creatures.

These are Egyptian fruit bats, and the reason they got the Egyptian

name is because they were originally found in the pyramids.

And now they're found on my face! Argh!

So you don't think it was a vampire or a vampire bat

who wrote me the letter in blood?

No, they certainly don't drink blood.

They eat fruit. So he likes things like bananas and apples,

and they'll only land on you if you look like a banana.

Well, if a vampire didn't write me the letter, who did?

The only monster I know that writes letters was from Frankenstein.

He sent quite a few.

Hmmm... Frankenstein?

-Erm, what are you doing?

-I'm making a Frankenstein.

Out of me?

No. Don't be stupid. Making a Frankenstein out of a computer! Duh!

I'm using an oven-ready turkey.

Good. Then I'll help. Firstly, the monster wasn't called Frankenstein.

That was the doctor who made him.

Frankenstein was a doctor?

How did he ever get through medical school?

No, Dr Frankenstein was the man

who made the monster, Frankenstein's monster.

Frankenstein made his own monster?

But he was a monster already!

Let's just read the flipping book, shall we?

"With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony,

"I collected the instruments of life around me,

"that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing

"that lay at my feet.

"By the glimmer of the half-extinguished lights,

"I saw the dull yellow eye of the creature open.

"It breathed hard and a convulsive motion agitated its limbs."

It's alive!

Wait a minute.

How did he make it come to life?

The story of Frankenstein was inspired

by the findings of the scientist Luigi Galvani over 200 years ago.

While he was dissecting a dead frog,

he accidentally passed an electrical charge through it,

causing its legs to kick as if he were alive.

-Accidentally?

-That was his story.

So how do I make my monster come alive?

-I'll knock you up some specialised equipment.

-OK.

But we need to test it on something

before we use it on my lovely monster.

-We don't have a dead frog, though.

-You're right. We need a guinea pig.

We can't use a guinea pig as a guinea pig. That would be cruel.

Where's Big Howard?

Oh! Hi, Little Howard.

That run really pepped me up.

At least I didn't collapse and have to phone you up,

like I did yesterday...

-What's going on?

-I'm sorry, Big Howard, but my party's tonight

and I haven't made a monster yet.

You might feel a slight tingling sensation when I press this button.

-Wow!

-What are you doing?!

Just testing the principles of Luigi Galvani.

Oh, OK, then.

Put those back on.

Turning you into Dr Frankenstein's monster, Dr Frankenstein,

is my only hope. The party's tonight.

Little Howard, monsters don't exist.

If monsters don't exist, why is there a name for them?

Well, the Daleks don't exist, but they've got a name.

Daleks don't exist?

There goes Plan B.

Look, if monsters did exist, do you think I'd let one of them eat you?

Not normally, but recently you do seem

to be in a bit of a bad mood with me.

PHONE RINGS

Well, I will be at the party, so please stop worrying.

Huh!

It was the monster, wasn't it?

Worse. They've brought the filming of Flummox Mum forward to tonight.

And look at the state of me! I've got to get to the bathroom

and sort myself out before I go to the studio.

You're going out? But who's going to save me from the monster?

No, seriously, who's going to save me from the monster?

Now, are we all ready?

I've got my garlic baguette in case it's a vampire,

I've got my silver cake balls in case it's a werewolf.

Yes, but are you wearing clean pants?

I don't want you embarrassing me

by getting eaten when you're not wearing clean underwear.

DOOR BELL RINGS

Little Susan, you've come as King Kong too.

No, I'm a girl monkey.

Now, where are my tooth-whitening strips?

Wow! Brilliant, hideous mutant mask.

You'll definitely win the prize for most repulsive monster costume.

Oh, dear. That was my date. She didn't know it was fancy dress.

Sorry.

Roger, you've got to help me.

A monster's coming to eat me.

You what?

Not while I've got anything to do with it.

-Thank you, Roger.

-I'm your agent.

If it eats you, it'll have to give me a payment for lost earnings.

The cheek, expecting to eat one of my clients for free.

DOORBELL RINGS

Hello. I'm A Monster.

Wait a minute. No, you're not.

Er, yes, I am. Alan Monster.

Pleased to meet you. I think you probably put the invite

through the wrong door, but I decided to turn up anyway on the off chance

that you did want to invite

a staggeringly dull man you'd never met before.

Yes, I was a bit confused by your R2D2.

-My what?

-Your reply.

You said you wanted to eat me.

Er, no, I said I wanted to meet you.

The M must have been covered up by a blob of tomato ketchup.

Ketchup? Not blood?

No, I was eating a sausage sandwich while writing my reply.

I was writing with my left hand while holding the sausage sandwich

with my right hand.

Couldn't you have just swapped hands?

No. It was a particularly nice sausage sandwich.

Oh, I see.

Everybody, this is A Monster. But don't worry, A stands for Alan.

He's not a monster, obviously, because...

monsters aren't real.

They're only in stories.

Argh! It's a monster!

Oh, no,

Big Howard's turned into a monster!

Ooh, it can't have been anything to do with me poisoning him,

dyeing his skin orange and zapping him, can it?

# I've created a monster

# I've created a thing that I detest

# In the beginning it was beautiful

# In the beginning it was better than the best

# I've created a monster I've created a thing that I despise

# All I wanted was to save the day

# Not create a hairy thing with scary eyes. #

What have I done?

'Are you ready for the brand-new daytime quiz show

'for the elderly, infirm and easily alarmed?

'Yes, it's here. Introducing, in his daytime television debut, the large

'but basically unthreatening bundle of fun that is Big Howard Reeves!'

HE BABBLES

# I think I'm worse than a monster

# When I realise that this is all my fault

# I think I'm worse than Dr Frankenstein

# Even though I know I haven't got a lightning bolt

# I think I'm worse than a monster I am worse than Dracula

# And I am becoming a monster

# And the monster comes from deep inside

# I'm becoming a, I'm becoming a I'm becoming a monster!

# I'm becoming a, I'm becoming a I'm becoming a MONSTER! #

-Are you all right?

-I've had better days.

I'm sorry about all this.

I think it might be

partially my fault.

"Partially"?! Well, at least you admit it, I suppose.

Are you going stop asking big questions that endanger my life?

Erm...

Oh, you won first prize

in the monster costume competition, by the way.

Did I? What was the prize?

Oh. There wasn't a prize.

Oh.

Did any of this make a good song?

Oh, the song was brilliant.

-Oh, was it? Can I hear it?

-No, the moment's passed.

Did you phone me all out of breath halfway through the episode?

Yeah, I did.

WOMAN SCREAMS

-Grow up!

-Oh!

I thought it was a monster.

The plot makes sense now. It's very well written.