Horror High 3 by Paul Stafford

Author:Paul Stafford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Random House Australia
Published: 2006-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

It was an eerie feeling pacing along the forbidden, echoing corridor, filing past a long line of brains lurking quietly in glass vats of fluid. It was spooky and felt almost as though the brains were watching them and thinking rude, unspoken thoughts to themselves.

The very air reeked of intelligence, and just breathing in the stinky smart-mist made Mick daydream he was a world famous zombie scientist who’d save Horror from the disastrous meteor threatening to wipe them off the globe.

Planet Reality to Mick, Planet Reality to Mick, come in Mick …

As his eyes became more accustomed to the half-light, Mick began to distinguish the labels on the vats. Some of the brains belonged to very famous people, some to very infamous people, and some to complete jackasses who died in such silly and embarrassing ways that the Dept of Dodgy Deaths requisitioned their grey matter to distil it and vaccinate the general population against future stupidities.

The leftovers were donated to science, and brain surgeon students mashed and diced and minced them up them for homework in brain surgeon school.

It’d be fascinating to document the various pink blobs floating in formalde-hyde fluid in the huge glass vats, but there’s no time to squander on such trivialities – Mick was there for a purpose. But, being Mick, he’d completely forgotten what that purpose was, so let’s trivialise a bit while he takes a few deep breaths and brings himself up to speed.

Some of the brains here had implants hooked up to them, with microphone and headphone outlets. It was mad – and seemingly pointless – but you could actually ask these brains questions. After a few moments there’d be a slight shudder of the large pink organ in the viscous fluid. A few bubbles would slowly rise up like a koi letting off in a fish tank, and a disem-bodied, computer-generated voice would answer your questions through the headphones.

If it could. Some of the brains were clearly not up to it, and some were barking mad. Hitler’s brain kept ranting the single phrase ‘Gott und Himmel!’, which according to my dodgy translation book means ‘God eats Himmels’ – a popular brand of hot-dog back in the dark days of World War II.

Hitler’s brain was stored down the left bank, with all the misfits, murderers and malcontents. Right next to him was the 1920s gangster Al Capone, who’d smoked so many big, fat, gangster cigars during his extensive crime spree that his brain now exuded nicotine like a toxic sponge, staining the vat a nutty brown.

Beside Capone’s mucky brown brain was the brain of Jack the Ripper, the evil contents of his demented noodle floating in corn flakes, milk and sugar, like you’d expect for history’s most notorious serial killer.

The next tub contained the fifth Wiggle – the infamous Black Wiggle, who wore a black skivvy, sold his soul to Satan and ran amok in the Horror Kindergarten, using his middle finger for the trademark finger wiggle and scaring the children before punching himself unconscious.

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