Inspired by Avengers: Endgame, Toby is going all out with his idea for a Cinematic Universe. It’s a good thing he lives in a basement…
(Editor’s note: There’s a rumor that Alex Lancaster, the Founder/Editor in Chief/Lead Writer for Poor Man’s Spoiler, secretly has a Quasimodo-esque love child he keeps hidden away in some basement. This has never been proven, but if true, said child would likely have an opinion on films and entertainment. “Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” and all that. This week Toby is diving into the next big Cinematic Universe, one he created himself. We apologize.)
This tale is not for the faint of heart, or the strong of heart, or those with hearts, so really just this guy:
This is your trigger warning for medical procedures gone horribly wrong and your invitation in if you are one of those people who falls into facebook holes watching pimples being popped for hours. Not even like a playlist on youtube, like you were watching the new Joker trailer and then, all of a sudden, it’s two am and you’ve lost any sense of the illusion of control in your life. Good luck with that double.
Henry Jekyll III not to be confused with Henry Jekyll from the story you probably lied about reading in high school. Actually, he got that a lot growing up. Imagine growing up with the same name of a man who took science too far and unleashed a psychopathic alter-ego on the world. Anytime he got angry or expressed any sort of negative emotion, the kids would tease him and go “hide from Hyde.” This only got worse the older he got as more and more of his peers were as likely to have read – or, at least – hear of the tale. Henry became a timid boy who was always super nervous to speak up or even emote. Which is why Michael Cera would be perfect to play him. Not emoting proved difficult for someone with bipolar disorder. He frequently had nightmares of Hyde taking over his body and invocaing havoc. This caused him to frequently wet the bed well into early adolescence. He asked me not to put that in here. He asked me to stop typing out what he is saying. “Stop it. What is wrong with you? Quit. Please? I’m not even real. Stop pretending you are writing what I am saying, I don’t even exist, I’m a character you made up. You’re a character too, your reality is a figment of some poor person’s mind. Why are you doing this?” Ok, buddy, we’ll move on.
One thing that was for sure true was that Henry’s grandfather, the one the story is built around, was a very sick man and suffered from undiagnosed psoriasis for years. Where most felt a pity for this brilliant man and his eccentricities, Stevenson saw an opportunity. The embellishments in that tale have been a curse on the Jekyll name ever since. I mean, the defamation lawsuit money at least allowed Henry to go to college, so that was nice. In college, Henry studies to be a medical psychologist and help unravel and cure maladies of the mind. Having no friends to speak of due to his name, Henry was able to focus unwaveringly on his studies and became a doctor quickly at the top of his class. You can call him Mr. Doctor…I’m being told just to call him doctor. In fact, the university was so impressed, they brought him on to lead a study of his own on the nature of personality disorders. Over the course of several years, Jekyll was able to make more and more impactful discoveries about the nature of these disorders and how they function in the brain. Psychology Today was calling him the next Freud, in like a “you’re amazing and revolutionizing the industry in a way that we will talk about for decades,” not in the “A lot of what you say will be disproven and you have some weird interpretations on how Oedipus did nothing wrong” way. Henry was able to isolate areas of the brain where these other impulses were firing. With this isolation, Henry moves into the test phase.
Everything works exactly as designed with no setbacks, but he still can’t get the go-ahead to move into human testing. It’s too radical, too helpful, too much of a disruption for big pharma. Think about it, how much money would they stand to loose if they actually cured a disease rather than just the symptoms? Jekyll is devastated. He didn’t become a doctor because he wanted to make millions of dollars off exploiting those with no other option, he genuinely wanted to help people. Fine. If this was how it was going to be. He’d just have to use himself for the tests.
This is normally the part of the tale where something goes horribly wrong and you are instilled to distrust science from a young age. Well, not in this tale! There is already enough people who distrust science in this world, I don’t need to add to it. People out there talking about water turning frogs gay and windmill cancer, while no one is talking about chemtrails, smh. Just kidding, that’s exactly what happened.
Henry stops taking his bipolar medicine long enough for it to no longer be in his system. This is really hard for him as control is essential in his everyday life, but he does it for everyone else this could benefit. On October 31st 2018, Henry goes into his lab alone and begins the procedure. He feels it working, isolating the parts of his brain that respond to his disorder, but…it isn’t destroying it, it builds it – awakening it. A laugh, something about peach tea? Ding ding ding ding ding ding. Blackness.
Henry wakes in a ditch 10 miles away from his lab with no idea how he got there. The clothes he is wearing still have tags on them and are definitely too big for him. “Oh jeez,” he thinks, “I’m like a kleptomaniac or something.” He isn’t feeling well either. Fortunately, he isn’t too far from his parents home and goes there. His father was still “junior” to friends and family despite being the senior Henry Jekyll at this point. Our Henry isn’t sure what Junior does for a living. Something with the government he thinks. He gets in and explains what happened and how he isn’t feeling well. A look of fear passes over Junior; a look of familiarity.
“What is it, dad?” Henry says.
“It’s nothing to worry about, nothing at all,” he replies, but neither of them fully believe it. “Your room should still be set up if you need to stay a day or two, no need to force your way home if you are not feeling well.” Henry thanks his father. Henry enters his room and a wave of nostalgia fills his tired spirit. From the planks with faces on them and the rat skeletons with googly eyes, everything seems just as it was. Henry says those items were not there and that he has normal person things…whatever that means, dude really needs to quit being a backseat author. Anyway, he rummages through his old belongings and finds a bell. Ring ring ring ring ring. That noise again, what is that and where is it coming from? Blackness again.
This time Henry awakes tied to a chair is his father’s study, his father sitting on the desk by the fireplace with a gun laying on his lap. Henry finds that the straps a little loose, but not enough to get out.
“When did it start Henry?” his father says, his finger ready above the trigger.
“Oh jeez, that’s a-a gun. Oh man, I-I please don’t kill me dad.”
“When did it start? When did what start. The sudden bursts of anger, the noises you can’t explain, the blackouts.”
It suddenly occurrs to Henry that this isn’t new to his father, Henry Jeykll Jr., he is describing his new events like this is something he’s been keeping at bay his whole life.
“Dad, how do you know so much about this?” he asks.
“I never told you what I do for a living, did I? I run,well, used to run, a secret organization that’s purpose is to contain or eliminate paranormal phenomenon. I lead, because I understand the threat they can have from personal experience…and now so do you.”
“Paranormal? I just blackout, how is that –”
“Ask him,” his father says and before Henry can ask who he is looking at a man through a window with a shaved head and eyes that lack the shimmer of a soul. He is smiling and whispering under his breath, “Ring ring ring ring ring.”
“Uh hi, who are you?” The man stops whispering and the smile grows wider. The irises grow like that of a predator the moment before the strike.
“Tsk, tsk, Henry, you say that like you haven’t known me your whole life.” the man said.
“Should I know you?” he turn from the window, “Dad who is this?”
“Stevenson may embellished for narrative sake, but the core of it was true. That, my son, is your Hyde.” Russel, I mean, Junior said. Mine looks back at me too. I’ll have to teach you how to keep him in check.
“Oh Jeez, the stories were true then-” He didn’t just separate out his disorder, he cultured it. It has now grown into its own aspect of his personality; 2 minds for one body. He truly was Henry Jekyll’s grandson. A monster. So his father had to put him down.
“Dad, I understand what you need to do. Ju-Just do it.” Henry said with a pseudo-confidence of a man who understands what must be done, even when that is the last thing they want.
“I’m not going to kill you, we can use you. You’re too smart, and he’s too strong to kill anyway. Watch.” without another word, Junior shot the gun and the reflection caught the dart and offered it like a jolly rancher to Henry. It was really weird, dude’s got some jokerish tendencies, but whatever. That was when Henry started working with his father, right before he met me.
Keep following Poor Man’s Spoiler for more Monster Mashers articles from Toby.
Written by Toby
(Toby is not a real person. This is a parody. A farce. A satirical piece. Do not take anything in this article seriously. It is written and created for entertainment purposes only, and honestly shouldn’t be read by anyone. Except as a means of torture. I mean, unless you’re into that thing. We don’t judge.)