Title: Her New Life
Fandom: The Nightmare Before Christmas
Author: Tiffany Star Collins
Rating: PG-13
Author's Notes: This is one my various NMBC fics I've created over the years, also one of my favourites. It's the first in my NMBC series, I'll post them all oe by one. Or you can view them at my site, http://www.burtonelfman.cjb.net. And hey, if you have a site then I won't get mad if you link to me...*hinty hinty*...okeeee go read now...
Disclaimer: Tim Burton's The Nightmare Before Christmas and all related is belonged by Touchstone Pictures I do believe. Not me. So no sue!
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It was cold in the lab as Dr. Finklestein studied his current specimen. A snail, injected with just a hint of zombie blood. Previously a dark brown colour the creature had turned bright blue all over, soon crawling around its jar at a speed unlike that expected for such a slow creature. "Very interesting," the scientist muttered, recording his observations in a black journal.
"Master," came a voice from behind him. "Master, there is a visitor here to see you."
He turned his wheelchair around to see Igor, his hunchbacked assistant. The dimwitted creature wasn't exactly Dr. Finklestein's greatest creation to date, being little more then a general nusiance. But he served his purpose around here, which was basically to do whatever he was told to. Make supper, fetch plans, do little meaningless tasks...anything to keep him out of the way.
"Who is it, Igor?" he sighed now, not happy to put off his experiments. "If it's another salesman, tell him to go away."
"No master, it's not...it is Jack, the Pumpkin King."
A cough. "Then why didn't you tell me that, boy? Hurry, out of my way." He wheeled himself from the room to find Jack standing at the head of the stairs. A skeleton of hardly believeable proportions he was; surprisingly tall and rail thin, the envy of many men in Halloween with his ability to charm the women with one graceful move. At over 500 years of age, though, the King hadn't moved to accept for himself a queen. That was a detail that drove everyone in town crazy, simply because so many ladies were constantly drooling over him.
"Hello, doctor," he smiled now. "I've come to speak with you about the holiday."
"Ah, yes, my boy. Please, come this way and we can make ourselves at home." He headed over to a ramp, making sure the King was on his tail. "Would you like some tea? Something to eat perhaps?"
"No thank you," came the reply. "I shouldn't be very long here."
"Quite the pity." After reaching the lower level they headed for the living room. It was small and not very cozy, but pretty good for someone like Dr. Finklestein who hated having company. He just liked to put on a good show for the King. "Come now, sit down. What's on your mind?"
Jack took a spot on a old sofa. "First of all, my good man, I need to know how you're doing with your Halloween assignment."
"Oh, wonderful. I've started creation of the new Frankenstein monster and he should be ready within a few months."
"Great. We have around 6 months till the big night, so you've got plenty of time. Good, one matter resolved. The next item of concern is regarding the dinner and dance next week for all citizens of Halloween. As you know, we're holding a special function to thank all the people who've helped us so diligently with the holiday over the years...."
"Yes, of course."
"Well, I'm just informing you that each person is to bring one pot-luck dish. Anything you want, but it has to be something."
"No problem."
A nod. "Great. Finally, I need to know exactly how much time you put into making the Frankenstein as soon as he's completed. Then we can calculate the hours total worked by everyone in Halloween in our year-in-review report."
"Oh yes, nearly forgot about that. Thank you Jack for the reminder, I'll work on that."
He smiled. "Wonderful then, I guess I'm done." He rose. "I just wanted to inform you of those few things. I know it gets hard for you to venture down for the town meetings nowadays."
"Indeed. I appreciate your concern, many thanks."
They headed for the front door. "Anytime, Doctor." Letting himself out he gave a little wave, heading back towards Town Hall. A shudder crept down his back as he left the area; that man always sent him a vibe of pure evil; kind of like Oogie Boogie. Difference was, this guy didn't have enough of a backbone left to pull any 'pranks'.
*****
Doctor Finklestein let out a grumble of annoyment as Jack left. That stupid monster he was supposed to be working on was nowhere near the stages of development. The plans were barely in the making. But whatever he needed to say in order to make His Majesty happy.
Without a word the doctor wheeled his chair into the kitchen, where Igor was preparing supper. "And what's on the menu tonight?" he asked. "I'm quite hungry."
"Fried liver and octupus legs, master."
A shudder. That had to be one of the worst meals cooked by his assistant--who was by no means the Martha Stewart of Halloween. "Wonderful," was all he said though, a cheerful grin plastered on his face. "Sounds great."
*****
"I can't eat this," Dr. F proclaimed as he pushed his plate away 30 minutes later.
"Why not, master?" came the reply. The assistant eyed the scientist with concern.
"Oh, too full," he lied. "Not a big appetite today. Please dispose of this somehow, I'll be heading to complete some work now."
A nod from Igor. "As you wish."
Without waiting the doctor left, wheeling his chair quickly towards his lab. There had to more then this--the mindless conversations with his assistant, the awful dinners, the loneliness...there simply had to be. He hadn't really realized up to this point how sad his life seemed to be. And now that he dwelled on it, he couldn't stand it.
Dr. F shook his head angrily as he thought these things. No, he mustn't start feeling sorry for himself. He never had before, and he wouldn't now.
*****
