Given life one stormy night in a dark West Virginia holler, Funkenstein was built with the spare parts of deceased accountants and semipro basketball players.
For years, townspeople feared the rattle of his abacus. He was finally chased westward into the night, only to find solace in the dungeons of the Kansas City Auditor's Office. Funkenstein wandered into the light only rarely, in constant fear of unbalanced books and his mortal enemy: rampant TIF.
In a bizarre twist, the people would elect him their leader, only to watch as Funkenstein teamed up with the dreaded Minuteman of the Garden and the evil siren Garth Brooks.
Now, every Halloween, Brookside residents tell of the abnormally tall man wandering the streets dressed as Abe Lincoln. But to those who have known the strike of his red pen, he will forever be known as ... Funkenstein!
Hey, kids, click on the image below -- and cut out your very own Funkenstein mask!
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