Warnings: spoilers eventual talk of suicide

I own neither the movie nor the characters, that would be Chris McKenna and Exodus Films Group.

I was going for comedy and didn't quite make it. I'm not sure whether the story will develop further, but for now, here's a...thing I made. Completely unbeta'd so far.

Ch.1

So this was show business. He still preferred to think of it as unleashing his creation on an unsuspecting populace.

He'd managed to convince Eva that he wouldn't make a good manager, but it seemed she had also decided he was her boyfriend. And he...well, he was okay with that, though a little breathless at being dragged along. He moved closer to the TV screen where Eva was being interviewed by some author for her show. "So true" she was saying "war is neither good for the living nor the undead". She looked directly into the camera and when she smiled, it seemed to be directed entirely towards him. That's how she always was with people. She talked and the world became a better, simpler place for a while. You could forget that she'd been born yesterday.

She had something on a rack in the hallway. A suit. That bright yellow suit again. Igor frowned as he tried it on. I must look like a speed bump in this. Or a really weird banana.

"Oh, that suit." Eva remarked. "Yellow is such a happy color! she said shyly "It made me think of you."

Well, for that reaction I'd put up with a lot more. "You really think it's me?"

Eva nodded. "I do, really. And Igor?"

"Yes?"

"I know I should exercise my boundaries and not let things get to me and while it's incumbent upon me as an actress to present a good role model and to model self-confidence as well as a positive body image-" She could go on for weeks like this.

"Yes?" Igor asked.

"Do you think they'll like me?" she asked in a tiny voice.

Igor blinked. "They all watch your show. Of course they will. Come on."

She let him lead her out to the coach.

The reception was crowded and noisy, full of people. Igor endured photos, disturbing questions about his underwear preferences (from TV host Crystal Clear), and a sprinkling of good natured stepladder jokes. Eva went off to talk with some director or other so Igor made his way past a large poster ad that read "Malaria: A Sunny Nation of Farmers!" and an advertisement for Eva's new book.

"Ah, the man of the hour!" A dark skinned man in a beige suit raised his glass at Igor and smiled benevolently.

"Mr. Durmott?" Igor knew the man was one of the cabinet but he'd never met him personally.

"So you're the man behind the groundbreaking "sunny nation of farmers" campaign. Work of genius. Most people approve of farming as long as they're not the ones doing it."

"um. Right, and-"

"I'm sure that will be sufficient to convince the other nations we've attacked to leave us alone. It's also good to know that we just happen to have a recently unemployed section of the populace standing ready to handle the tractors."

"What?"

"Merely congratulating you on your good work, Mr. Igor." His expression became less amused, more urgent. "Of course, your Eva will make it to the world hunger charity event? Malaria needs her-" His voice was cut off by a waiter. "Phone call, Mister. It's from someone called Scamper."

An extremely haggard rabbit appeared on the screen. "Igor. Someone gave Brain a drum."

"Just a moment." Igor turned back to some of the company who were watching with interest. "That's Scamper, and Brain's a brain in a jar" he explained. "I guess you could call them my brainchildren. Ha."

The hare stared at him for a moment. "That was bad and you should feel terrible. Do you realize someone gave Brain a drum?" He stared at Igor with pleading bloodshot eyes and for a moment almost sounded as if he wanted to cry. "I can't sleep. I can't think". His voice returned to his usual flat, sardonic tone. "I want to put my head in a vice and end it all, but I can't even do that. Plus I think he leaked on your bed."

"Ugh." Igor put his palm to his face. "Just...put in some earplugs and tell Brain I'll deal with him when I get home." Then a loud electronic screech came from the stage. Igor couldn't see over the crowd, but he immediately recognized the voice even though it was slurring.

"So here we are, not being evil. Well, you lot of upstanding citizens aren't. What did I do? I might have told a few lies, stolen some ideas. So what? Information wants to be free. At least I never burdened an animal with intelligence and immortality and forced it to work for me. I never covered up the suspicious death of an esteemed scientist, I never dated a creature I created myself." The crowd in front of Igor stepped back a little, giving him a view of the stage for the first time. Schadenfreude caught his eye and smiled confidentially to Igor: "What does that make her, your daughter? And she's how old? Two months? Three? Well done there. But just between you and me even evil should have standards.

"I'm going, I'm going" Shadenfreude waved one hand imperiously at the security guards advancing on him. "No, really, how much do they pay you guys?" He had started backing away by this time, but it did no good. By the time Schadenfreude had been wrestled to the ground, Igor had already gone looking for Eva.

He finally caught up with her outside the entrance, where she was seated on the ground, deep in conversation with a number of people. At least she'd missed the speech. Good. "Look, I need to leave. It's Scamper, Brain's, uh...doing Brain things again."

"I'll come with you."

"No, that's okay...really, that's okay." He protested as Eva climbed to her feet, moving far more lightly than an engine of mass destruction should.

"But we haven't seen each other very much at all lately. I've been so busy with my book, and the ads and the new movie... Oh my gosh, did I tell you I'm going to be in a movie!? Right here in Malaria."

"That's great" he said weakly.

"I'm sure the people representing the orphanage won't mind if I talk to them later, will you? Call me!"

"Yeah, let's get going" he resisted the temptation to look back at the door. There were almost certainly no angry mobs behind him.

Next day, far away in a pickle packing plant a man slouched despondently over his desk. He was wearing a flamboyant lime green shirt, one that could only be worn by the extremely handsome and acutely confident. He was both, but today even his collar drooped in misery.

"Pucklemacker!" A shrill voice called outside his door.

Oh. Her.

A short hunchbacked woman with red pigtails burst into the room. He didn't look up until he'd counted to ten. When he finally did, she was standing with her arms folded, fuming. Perfect.

"Why Jacqueline," he said smoothly, "or Heidi? Igorina? Or whatever you're calling yourself these days. How was the date with that Igor? Bit low, dating the help" he chuckled. Ugh. All that time with Jacqueline, I was with this creature.

She only snorted derisively. He considered that any woman with such a turned up nose shouldn't snort.

"You should know. How's business Pucklemacker?" She gave a shark's grin.

He folded his arms, sniffed haughtily and looked away.

"Terrible, eh? It's not fair, you know. That idiot of an Igor gets to go to parties while I'm punished for believing in a loser like you. I've got something to make it all better, though."

"Nonsense." He said, then far too intensely, "I'm done. I'm through. It's over."

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Who's the leech now? But I've got something that will get me into baby seal boots again..." Schadenfreude winced at the sound of Jacqueline's voice coming from an Igorina's mouth. Stupid, selfish, greedy woman. But she did have her uses.