An Oral History of the Monster Mash

ISSUE #27

As told by Boris Pickett, The Monster, Staff and Guests

Boris Pickett, mad scientist and host of the Monster Mash:  The beginning, I would say, is clearest to me—I was working in the lab late one night when my eyes beheld an eerie sight.  For my monster, from his slab, began to rise.  I was totally anticipating him to grunt, or thrash, or just put up a general fuss, but suddenly, to my surprise, he did the Mash. He did the Monster Mash.

Wolf Man, life of the party:  It was a graveyard smash. I mean, there had been parties in the necropolis before. Hell, there'd even been a Mash or two. But a Monster exclusive? No humans allowed? That was a game-changer.

Dracula, local count and subsequent band-member of The Crypt-Keeper Five: It was unprecedented. This is like what Chuck Berry did for rock-and-roll. The influence of that night on monsterkind cannot be overstated. It'll be eight thousand years from now and that's how parties will be thrown.

The Monster, progenitor of the Monster Mash:  I know it sounds crazy looking back, but I was really struggling at the time. I started in the under-circuit, dancing for cash and petty change. A cereal box cover or two for a paycheck. But it'd been two years since I moved to the cemetery, and I was getting absolutely no callbacks. I was ready to just give up. I really owe it to Boris, he was a defibrillator to my career.

Igor, bandleader:  Yes, technically The Monster was the first to Mash. But don't be mistaken—this was Boris's show. It would never have worked without that man behind-the-scenes, tinkering away, serving electric shocks, always improving whatever he could.

Boris Pickett:  At first, I thought he would quit dancing once he got tired, and I'd get back to my work. But the vampires heard his heavy footsteps, and they were the first to show up.

Dimitri Romanoff, vampire:  So I was just eating in the master bedroom, typical Thursday, chomping down on this Italian backpacker who looked like Miles Teller, when I heard this lurching shuffle from the lab. It's usually so boring around here, so I dropped my meal and went to check it out. I saw Ivan and Natalya and the others in the hall on the way there.

Natalya Dvorzhetsky, vampire:  We peeked around the corner, and there was this shambling corpse, dancing away, and Boris, just looking shocked as hell.

Dimitri Romanoff:  Looked fun, you know? So we called the ghouls. The zombies, too.

Sarah Grimes, ghoul:  My girls and I got there pretty early, all things considered. At that time it was just Boris, the Monster, and a handful of vampires shocking each other with electrodes, getting jazzed off the juice and dancing around. I don't think it would've ever really got going if we hadn't rolled up.

Wolf Man:  Those ghoul girls, man, they really know how to party. They brought a pan of blood brownies, just loaded to the teeth with THC. You'd have mistaken me for one of the zombies by the end of the night.

Charles Craig, zombie:  Nrrughh.

Boris Pickett:  About that time, Dracula showed up, with his little boy tugging on his coattails.

The Monster:  When Drac had to bring his son with him... that shit was hilarious.

Dracula:  Okay, here's the thing with the boy, since I know they're gonna fucking bring it up. How can I even cover it all? Those were tough nights. I was blood-drunk, most of the time, just up-to-the-gills by nine every night. I would just drink and listen to Tom Waits until it was fucking hilarious. Didn't help my flying—I flew through my fair share of windows. Careened right into an Office Depot once, spent the night in Van Helsing's office till Boris bailed me out.

Wolf Man:  I once saw Drac so drunk he tried to eat a pizza. And he couldn't stop crying, man. It was almost impressive. I miss the days when I could comfortably cry

Dracula:  So it was bad. And the concubines were never happy. That night they'd told me they were going to Bunco all night, but apparently I'd been too blitzed to remember. So they left me to watch after the boy. I tried to sneak out later anyway, but Junior caught me. So I thought, what the hell? I brought him anyway.

Junior, Dracula's son:  Yeah I was way too young to go to that party. So many people ended up naked.

Igor:  Believe or not, there wasn't even any music till I got there. Everyone was just shuffling around to whatever was in their heads, with Boris at the bar shocking whoever wanted a little juice. It was barbaric. So I was supposed to just vamp up there until the coffin-bangers and the rest of the Crypt-Kicker Five showed up. I brought my rig and my baying hounds, set up in the corner, and started playing this Motown-meets-jitterbug number. That's when it really got wild.

Lauren Macabre, leader of the Crypt-Kicker Five:  You could say, "Yeah, Igor was really good at keeping the party going," I guess in the same way that you can admire a wooden chair, because at least it's there when you need a seat. Shit wasn't great though, not until we got there.

Boris Pickett:  By the time the band started playing, all Sunday shoes were off.

The Monster:  Other than the kid Drac was hanging in there, for a while. Then he started fighting about how much blood American corporations are wasting with their ritual sacrifices, and at one point someone saw him slinking off to his coffin to cool off. We thought he was out, but when the Crypt-Kickers came on, he popped out skunk-drunk and said.

Boris Pickett:  "Whatever happened to the Transylvania Twist?"

Wolf Man:  It was the most bizarre shit I'd ever seen, man. He looked like a bottle rocket. Transylvania Twist? That shit makes no fucking sense.

Natalya Dvorzhetsky:  Pretty much halted the whole party. Then everyone started laughing.

Boris Pickett:  He tripped out of his coffin, so I went and got him. I hosed him off, and I said, "You gotta cool off, Drac. I don't wanna kick you out, but..."

The Monster:  And I see Boris talking to him, and I walk over to try to help. I think he was feeling jealous, that I was the one who started the Mash and all.

Wolf Man:  We were keeping him upright, he kept trying to turn into a bat or a wolf or a spider, but they were these grotesque drunken transformations, flickering like a tube television, wings out his ears and shit. Then all of a sudden his eyes glow bright red, and he takes a swing right at The Monster. Socks him right in the jaw, which of course comes right off.

The Monster:  So there my tongue was hanging there, without my lower jaw to keep it in, hanging there like a bell-pull. And the music stops, and I'm more shocked than mad or anything. Then Drac breaks into this big grin, grabs my tongue, and plucks it. Starts plucking it with his two fingers, which makes this great resonant bass sound, rich as hell.

Lauren Macabre:  So I hear what that tongue could do, and I think, "what better way to get this thing back on track?" So I invite them up and have them share the stage as our new bassist. And you know what? Pretty damn good.

Wolf Man:  That took care of that, and for a while everyone was having a damn good time. But pretty soon it was winding down: everyone was pretty smashed out on electrodes by then; the ghoul girls were grabbing their shoes and calling Boo-bers and Cryfts; the zombies were in the smoking parlor; Drac was Geddy-Lee-deep in a solo, but no one was really listening by then; and Junior had grabbed the monitor and hooked up the Gamecube to play a game of Melee with some of the vampires.

Boris Pickett:  Whenever something comes to an end, there's a sense of mortality. Which is actually a blast at a monster party.

Dracula:  Do I think he can do it again? I don't know, man. It was a certain time, a historic feeling to the cemetery. I think every generation has their own version of the Mash, I have no doubt about that. There's always a new thing, and the old will always be pushed aside by the young, even the undying. And maybe that's a good thing, who's to say. I've had fun at Bonnaroo, sure. But Boris's Mash? There was absolutely nothing like it

The Monster:  I still get approached on the street. "I'm not that guy anymore," I always say, "but thank you." There's something that happens to you when you get older. It's like you only need that one time, or a few, and you're full. I'm just not as hungry anymore. I've got my bride, my dachshund—I'm happy. Do I want others to take up the torch? Hell no! Fire bad. Fire so, so bad.

Junior:  Yeah, I'm actually trying to put something together. I guess it did kinda leave its mark on me, going to the Monster Mash when I was that young. I've got a few of my friends to help scrape some money together. We want to do a new Mash. But like, new new. Like with slime and shit. We're trying to get Young Thug.

Boris Pickett:  Junior? Oh yeah, I think he can do it. Look, I think anyone can. Even in death, there's a sense of life. We all have the verve in us, and fun is abundant to anyone receptive to it. There's always another Mash. Who knows, the next one could be in your own mausoleum.