The World of Myth Magazine will feature one story per month in anticipation of the 2026 Zombie Works Publication release of Once Upon a Time in Knob River Valley: A Collection of Grins & Grimaces—forged in the fires of Lisa H. Owens' unhinged imagination.

An excerpt from Chapter-Five: Oddballs & Aliens

I don't want a man around the house, but truth be told, I need one. I need a man to perform such tasks as removing the lid from a jar of pickles, or on occasion, to carry the 50-pound bag of salt from the shed to the swimming pool, the aged in-ground pool that goes mostly unused these days. Once the kids were grown and gone and the husband on permanent holiday with a gal named Tina, the salt-pool became one big headache. If I think too long about the big picture, the one leaning against the dining room table that needs to be hung above the mantel, I feel the beginnings of a headache, the type that starts behind the eyes before becoming a full-blown migraine.

I really need a man. Not a real man. A man who is here—but not fully here—with whom I can envision spending the rest of my life. I decide to find my man online. There is an app for that. Not a dating app. This app, as explained to me by my recently single friend, is sort of like one of those ancient websites created decades ago to assist singles in their tiresome searches for companionship. Like farmersonly.com or eHarmony—on steroids. Franken-Find offers countless search options for the everyday woman using an algorithm which when applied to a series of answers to need-specific questions, is guaranteed to build the perfect hybrid-man—in a process much like Dr. Frankenstein's. A man-droid built with my needs in mind, which at this point in my life is strictly brawn.

I install then open Franken-Find, clicking on the drop-down menu. "Rejected Specimens" immediately catches my eye. I am a sucker for the underdog and strays, so this is the place to start my search. I browse that page for a while, swiping left on each presented specimen. One with twigs for arms—too scrawny. One with the brain of a recently deceased Fields Medal recipient—too smart, and another with a rat head on a herculean physique. A literal rat head. The physique is perfect, the quietude that would come with the rat head, a bonus. A man-droid with the face of a rat won't bother me in the slightest, but the dogs would have a heyday with that one. I predict a never-ending game of chase.

I browse the drop-down menu again and click the option "Man-droid Builder Form." I open the form. It isn't too long. Just my personal profile, some desirable traits and a few questions I would like to ask the potential man-droid of my dreams.

I don't care so much about appearance. I am not a shallow person. Personality is the thing that always draws me in, makes me want to pursue a relationship; but I don't want that either. I want a simple man. A man-droid of very few words, and best-case scenario, a man-droid who communicates with nods and grunts. A strong simpleton like Frankenstein's monster. My need should be an easy one to fulfill. I want a strong silent type.

I only need to ask one question to select my mate; "How do you feel about fire"

-