Mid-afternoon comes around in haste and yet there is still much to do. I have been busy in my laboratory, storing enough electricity in my copper coils to create my own lightning storm. Honestly, excitement abounds for tonights' celebrations, I just hope my friends share my relentless enthusiasm.

Ugh that smell again. "Igor…windows, please!" I shout, at what could be construed as nothing. I hear a grumble of recognition in response, quickly followed by a large slam.

I have often had to shout at Igor to shut the windows at the back, for the smell is horrendous. It smells similar to the morgues and charnels, minus the embalming fluid. Heh, I never use embalming why would I need to? I need the vascular system intact….

*Ahem*…..Igor, yes, Igor is my live in house guest.

He was born with a spinal impairment, I do not like to call it a deformity…such a crude word. No, it is commonly known as a hunchback, hmm that term is even worse, why should a bodily misfortune be given such a horrid name when the mere mention of it inspires perceived gasps of shock horror? Then further subduing the person within with such cruel contempt, that their only accepted existence would be for the mockery and entertainment of the masses, the opulent rich, the aristocracy, the same ones who sneer at those below them. 'Not for long though, we'll rise up...metaphorically I mean.'

You know, the actual term is scoliosis from ancient Greece, I nary use terms like that either. Someone please tell me what use are terms if you do damned all about them?

It is, after all, very statistical. It puts a label and number on a person, and yet, I should like the term as I'm all about using them for study but when it comes to actual friends and people, I prefer not.

You see, I simply call him 'vertically challenged' and he seems to like that better….Yes Igor is my vertically challenged house guest. He also helps me with the donations, they are after all, too heavy just for one to lug up the stairs.

Igor is about 5' tall, thin and has dirty brown hair. I should mention that he has a large wardrobe of clothes but he only ever wears the same things, day in day out.

I say about 5' because he has never stood up straight, he simply can't you see.

But I don't pity him, he doesn't like the added attention anyway. Instead, I applaud his courage and ambition to stand by my side, come rain or shine he is out there with me collecting the spare organs we need…..does that sound bad? Ah well, I don't care, it's all in the name of science and research.

Me however, I am blue eyed and 5'11", and painfully thin in stature, when do I have time to eat?

Anyway….sorry. I just had to change the fuse again, this damn machine!

My hair is usually auburn but recently I was electrocuted and it's gone more chestnut, maybe it was singed, perhaps I altered the deoxyribonucleic acid in my hair follicles …I can't be sure, either way, it was a buzz and I am sure I gained a few extra inches of height on that same day.

So, as you waited so patiently, here forthwith is a partially detailed list of my closest allies, my close friends and partners in crime:

Dorian Gray; He is ever so secretive of his middle name as well as the location of his original artwork. He of course, chose a pseudonym, the name Dorian Gray was too risky you see but he chose wisely.

His treasured picture frame is as black as his heart and his swathe of shoulder length hair, so he likes to be known as Cole. I find him to be of exceptional strength, his only weakness is his picture, other than that he is untouchable.

I thought Charcoal or ink would have been more appropriately suited for pseudonyms…evidently not! My proffered suggestions got me a rather painful duel when he slapped me across the face with his leather hide gloves.

One black eye and bloodied lip later, I conceded, he was henceforth and forthwith to be known as Cole, at least until his death. I would hazard a guess to say that his mausoleum would indubitably state his full name. If he ever dies that is.

'Damn that man is older than I and he still looks younger, I tell you it's not fair.'

Anyway where was I? My train of thought…Ah yes, my other friends.

Doctor Jekyll; Although this fine specimen of a man is rather two faced. He can change from a calm demeanour into a rather scary character at the flip of a large electric lever.

His anger is similar to that of the first monster I ever created. Although Dr Jekyll as yet hasn't attempted to slay my betrothed unlike my monster did. I do miss her terribly though, poor sweet Elizabeth I'll never forget her. I will always testify my gratitude for all her love and kindness even though our marriage was cut short.

I must say that Dr Jekyll's personality is almost akin to the trapped souls in the local asylum, he actually has a split personality, very dangerous on occasion. But it is all in the eyes though, his eyes as are as green as envy until he changes of course then they turn red.

He calls his alter ego Mr Hyde, although he never seems to remember what he takes pleasure in on his nightly forays other that it being of pure evil and also oddly lust filled.

'Hmm would explain the screams I hear on a nightly basis, although nobody else hears them!'

So in regard to Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, we all voted that a shortened version would be more appropriate. Besides it would certainly make it less conspicuous when we were out committing heinous crimes.

We all agreed to call him Lloyd after his alter ego broke into the bank a few doors down. The new bank that had opened literally the week before. Mind you, he did look like a banker, what with his imposing black top hat that sat neatly atop his blonde locks and his finely tailored black suit and cane.

Next is a man who is difficult to identify, for obvious reasons. He was a scientist, a damned good one too! 'Haa where are my manners, he still is a good scientist.'

He devoted himself to the research of optics, whereby he invented a way to change the body's refractive index to that of the air we breathe. He made it so that the body would neither absorb nor reflect the light and thus he became invisible. He successfully carried out this procedure on himself because he could find no willing participants to assuage, alas he never found the antidote to reverse it and he was cast out, shamed, made homeless and obviously he was invisible.

Between us we gave him shelter and open arms and we named him Zane because he was idiosyncratic and zany….original right?

Even now he never seems to complain, he even managed to create some rather fetching yet remarkable faux lenses for the eyes, they give him more depth to his vision and give his eyes a lucid blue colour. It can be quite scary if he isn't wearing his clothes as all you can see are the eyes.

And of course, he sometimes chooses to wear a metal mask that at least makes it easier to see him. Forsooth there is nothing more annoying that talking to the wrong object, when he could be sitting next to you, unforgivable and the height of bad etiquette.

Whilst some may be intimidated by his mask he is still friendly to us. And truly, his look can seem unnerving to some but to me and our companions he looks like an automaton. Yet, he is nary an automaton as I am a free spirited woodland nymph.

He listens attentively, his mind so cultivated as is my own. I do wonder how I can see so noble and kind a person, destroyed by misery without feeling at least some grief for his lost life, hopes and dreams.