You are the invisible man.

Looks are not a factor so you ignore the mirror and check to make sure you at least smell okay. Tonight is going to be a big night, you haven’t been this excited in years.

A few days ago you got a call from the Mummy, an old friend of yours from your days in the movie business. He said he was getting the old gang together for a reunion party, wanted you to come along. That’s what it sounded like he was saying anyway, the mummy had always been a bit of a mumbler. You were able to make out the name of a bar and googled out the route.

Being invisible, it’s hard to make friends. The movie business sort of thrust you into various social circles and although it was a long time ago, that was probably the last time you really had any friends.

You wonder who will be there. You’d been good friends with Wolfman, Mummy, Dracula, and Frankenstein’s monster. The five of you fell out of touch as the movie industry started relying more and more on special effects and costumes than actual live monsters. Hell, last you heard they were using a man with a hockey mask in a series of “scary” movies. A human!

You walk out the door and leave the hotel, hailing a taxi to no avail. Taxi after taxi speeds by even as you put forward every effort to stop one. It’s as though you aren’t even there. Sometimes it’s hard being invisible.

Accepting the inevitable you decide to walk it. It’s only a few miles from your hotel to the Monster Lounge. The Mummy picked the place. He had a good sense of humor. A cab stops at a red light and you briefly consider hopping inside and telling the cabbie where to take you. Usually when you try that though you just end up scaring the shit out of the driver.

The sun sets while you walk, but eventually you reach the place; a pink neon light in the shape of a gravestone had “Monster Lounge” scrawled across in the same shade of pink. You walk inside a full hour after the reunion started.

You spot them as soon as you walk in, sitting at a couple of tables up on a raised floor. Wolfman is here in jeans and a T-shirt; his majestic brown fur poking out from beneath the sleeves. He’s talking about something to Dracula who laughs. The vampire is wearing his hair slicked back in his style of old, a flowing black cape hanging from his slumped shoulders. They laugh together for a moment and you walk over to join them.

“Seriously though, Drac;” Wolfman says in his gravelly voice. “The Invisible Man is a bullshit monster. I never understood his appeal. How the hell did he make it in the movie business?”

“Yes! Yes! Is true!” Dracula says. “Could have been replaced by hats and clothes on strings! Ah ah ah!” They both laugh.

You take a deep breath and let it out slow. “Oh hey guys, I made it.” You announce dryly.

They look around for a while, their eyes skimming right over you as though you’re not even there.

“Right here, assholes!” You say.

“Oh,” Dracula says. “How long you have been there, Invisible?”

“A few minutes,” you tell them.

“Did you…” Wolf man asks.

“Yes, I heard you mocking me.” You tell them. Dracula looks down at his shoes and clasps his hands behind his back. Wolfman scratches at the back of his neck and looks around the room.

“Vell…” Dracula begins.

“Save it,” You tell him. “I don’t care what you think. My films reached an emotional depth that yours could only dream of.”

“Yeah, well they were supposed to be scary,” Wolfman says.

“At least they didn’t have to work flea-baths into my budget,” You say.

We all laugh.

“Ve knew you vas there,” Dracula says.

“No you didn’t,” you tell him. You all laugh again. It’s just like old times.

You spot Frankenstein and his wife Carol at one side of a table talking to the Creature from the Black Lagoon on the other. The Frankenstein’s are dressed neatly; Frankie wearing a button-up white shirt and a pair of khakis. Mrs. Frankenstein wore black dress pants and tight red shirt that showed a little corpse-cleavage. The Creature from the Lagoon wears nothing but the scales on his back, of course.
You sit down across from Frankenstein but he doesn’t notice. “Hey Frankenstein!” you call across the table and he looks a little bit over your left shoulder and grunts. The Creature from the Lagoon and Mrs. Frankenstein jump a little.

“Invishible? Ish that you?” Creature asks from beside you.

“It is,” you say amiably. “Hello. Good to see you Creature from the Black Lagoon, Bride-of-F, Frank.”

“His name isn’t actually Frankenstein,” Mrs. F interjects.

“It kind of is,” You tell her.

“He’sh actually right about this,” Creature says, nodding along beside you.

“I’m telling you,” she insisted; “That is not his name.”

“Is that what he’s telling you? Because that’s a lie.”

She waves off the question. “I’ve never been able to understand a word he says. No one can, if we’re being honest.” It’s true, you realize; but somehow you always assumed that she understood him. Probably because they’re both corpses, you think; instantly ashamed of the suggestion.

“But I’m telling you that’s not his name,” she says. “Everyone thinks that’s his name, but Dr. Frankenstein never named him.”

“Well you’re right there,” You say. “But Frank over there signed many a contract and check that were issued to him as Frankenstein.

“Is that true?” She asked, looking over her shoulder at Frankenstein. He shrugged his shoulders and tossed his hands up. Wolfman and Dracula came over to the table then.

“Hey Wolfman, get me a beer would you?” you ask.

“Get it yourself,” he growls.

“Come on man; you know they can’t see me.”

“Fine,” he says. “What are you drinking?”

“Get me something dark,” you tell him. He nods and walks over to the bar without asking you for money. Wolfman had always been kind of an asshole, but he wasn’t all bad; he was good for free drinks if nothing else.

“Where’s the Mummy at anyway?” You ask, giving the place a look around. The Mummy was the one who organized this whole thing, it was strange for him not to be there.

“He’s vasted,” Dracula says, pointing; “Passed out in booth over there.”

You follow where he points and see an old linen-wrapped foot sticking out of a booth. You shake your head. “Wow,” you say. “How much did he drink tonight?”

“He vas drinking very much,” Dracula answerd; “But I think vas pills from Dr. Jekyll that put him over edge.”

Wolfman comes back with a bottled porter and sets it on the table next to where you sit. You slide the bottle in front of you. “Thanks,” you say.

“I’m sorry I missed Dr. Jekyll,” you say. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah,” Wolfman says. “He didn’t stay, but he dropped off some killer looking weed. Frankie already rolled a blunt with it for a smoke later on.

“Sweet,” you say.

The Creature from the Black Lagoon scratches at his scaly chin for a moment. “I mished him too,” he says; “And though I wish he’d shtuck around; I am thankful at leasht that he left ush shomething to remember him by.” The Creature stands up. “I’m going to get a round of shotsh in honor of the good doctorsh gift.”

There is a moment of silence in their wake until Dracula breaks it. “Anybody vant play darts?”

Frankenstein lets out a long agonized groan and his wife rolls her eyes.

The Wolfman looks over at the vampire like he’s stupid. “Darts? Who the fuck plays darts, Dracula? Sometimes you’re a complete fucking idiot.”

“Fuck you,” Dracula says in his heavy accent. He looks in your general direction. “Vhat about you, Invisible Man? You vant play darts?”