Electricity crackled; exotic machines grumbled and moaned and clanked and sprang to life.
Dr. Frenkinshlap gingerly placed the tattered doll on the table. Moments later a bolt of lightning struck, and the doll sat up stiffly.
"Alive! Alive!" Frenkinshlap yelled, drooling.
Upstairs, awakened by the storm, Little Mizie, the doctor's 65-year-old daughter, wheezed: "Oh, Daddy. You've fixed her. You've given my little Droosila true life!"l