Hi, I’m Terry Snake, first-time film producer, long-time person. And thanks to the immense foresight of our founding fathers in coming up with public domain (which already gave us the gift of affordable DVD copies of Night of the Living Dead for every household regardless of prosperity), I am able to bring to you what some could hypothetically be calling the most interesting update of the Frankenstein saga to date. I just need some financing, which I’m sure you’ll be delighted to furnish after you hear this.

In mine, the Monster finally gets a knife, rectifying a glaring omission that dates back to the original novel by Mary Shelley! I hardly have to tell you the implications of that. How many times have we seen the same old Frankenstein’s monster do the ol’ groan, shove people around, pick them up and throw them? Enough times to get thrown out of a grocery store for shouting at the clerk about it. I’ve been there, and so have you.

So get excited, because THIS Monster stabs. Oh, not at first. He has to learn about everything for the first time, remember? But he learns about knives. Oh brother, does he learn about knives! He stabs. He slashes. He painstakingly sharpens his knife on a whetstone from a store at the mall. And did I mention he stabs?

But even though my knife-wielding Franky is groundbreaking enough in his own right, I didn’t stop there. Because what is a plain ol’ knife? By definition, it’s vanilla ice cream, which I would find very boring to stab someone with. And so, to my way of thinking, does Frankenstein’s monster. That’s why he doesn’t settle for just any knife. But what knife was right for a new life stitched together from the remnants of the dead and discarded?

Obviously, a butterfly knife.

I thought about others: a switchblade came to mind, but my Monster is more innocent than that. An ornate, crazy-looking Gil Hibben knife like you see in the Rambo movies? Too grotesque. For the monster to grapple with his own external ugliness on top of the knife’s would be putting a hat on a hat.

No, it had to be a butterfly knife—that perfect mixture of beauty, grace, and blunt violence that is Frankenstein’s Monster. And that butterfly knife is a thread that runs through every moment from the story you remember. For example, the mad scientist crying to the heavens, “It’s alive! It’s ALIVE! And it has a butterfly knife! Aaagghhhh!”

Or when he comes upon a sweet little girl and accidentally kills her while innocently performing sick-ass butterfly knife tricks. He doesn’t know what he’s doing! He just knows butterfly knife!

Should I get rid of that scene? Or, haha, “cut” it? With a butterfly knife? You get it.

It’s a tender tour de force from the opening scene all the way to the finish, in which the monster is besieged by torch-wielding villagers and struggles to protect Dr. Frankenstein and himself by expertly throwing butterfly knives at his persecutors, pinning them to various walls and stuff.

And you better believe I tease a sequel! Picture this: It’s all over. The burned castle is in ruins. Suddenly! A gruesome, gnarled hand punches through the rubble. And in that hand? Butterfly knife. We punch in tight on the knife. It says, “Vengeance shall be mine. But not mine alone, for I shall be joined by… the bride of Frankenstein’s Monster’s butterfly knife.” A stinger plays. Hard cut to black.

And you can hand me all your money in 3… 2… 1…

You’re not interested? Not enough to give me 100 mil.? Well… what about just enough for a butterfly knife?