THE STUFF OF DOGGY NIGHTMARES
It was a dark and stormy night. . The rain came in off the Transylvanian Sea in folded sheets and washed straight down the black stones of the walls of Castle Frankenstein. . Inside his castle, Dr Frankenstein was putting the finishing touches to his preparations – for his daring, some would say fiendish experiment, while his assistant Igor watched closely, his beady eyes darting here and there, missing nothing. . “Ve are ready at last! Brink in der first patient!” . Igor jumped to attention at Dr Frankenstein’s command. Since that unfortunate business at Castle Drumpfenstein, I mean Trumpenstein, he was wary of causing Dr Frankenstein any displeasure. . “Vill that be der Normein, der Charltein or der Rinkeindinkeinstein (Einstein for short) Herr Doktor?” . “Rinkeindinkenshtoon or vhatever its damned name is, you fool! I told you how many times? As it iss der larchest of der three mongreils we have, it vill be der easiest!” Igor brought in a very reluctant hound: an alleged Brittany