Kristin Bock: Matchmakers

Where does your monster sleep?

In a cage too small for him.

What does your monster’s heart look like?

Like a child’s teacup, small and full of blood.

What color is he?

Green, of course.

What does he eat?

Basically, nose to tail.

Cataracts?

Installed.

Fins?

Cauterized.

Fangs?

Restored.

Good. He’s healthy then?

Yes, he takes ratfish liver oil—from a 300 million year old chimeric fish, half-skate half-shark. It lives at the very bottom of the sea and has a face like a rat. Legend has it Norwegian Vikings would hang a ratfish up by the head and the liver oil would drip from its long tail. They named the elixir “Gold of the Ocean” and considered it to be a very rare and precious gift. There are many other fish oils on the market, but he prefers this one.

Excellent! He should make some fine little monsters. One last question—does

he have any issues?

Well, only if you count his fear of snow globes.

Oh c’mon, snow globes?

Yes. They remind him of his childhood. His father was a snowman and his mother was an icicle. It snowed each and every day.  His father cried tears of fire for they begat a daughter named Wendy, who, after fifteen years of unforgivable acts of kindness, was sent to live among the moose.

 

Forget it. My monster’s not like that at all.



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