You’re A Scritch...
A 3′ resurrectionist wearing a skeleton suit so you can blend in with the 'carnies' working the graveyard shift.
Resurrectionists were what they called grave robbers in the 18th century.
They 'resurrected' bodies.
They made a killing robbing graves & selling bodies to medical schools—a body could fetch 8 guineas, or 42 days’ wages.
Now they’re a movement—& they raid Crookwood.
Anybody Under The Suit
A Scritch is faceless, sexless & ageless & has no defined racial characteristics. The player underneath the suit can be anybody.
Creep, run, duck, look & hide.
Build Your Little Frankenstein
The first job is to suck on some ectoplasm—& energise the bones.
Glowing bones can be replaced with stolen limbs; vital organs, hearts, electronics & bionic parts turn it into a Stein.
The Stein can then be styled & dressed to impress.
Examples of highly advanced, armoured Steins.
Flesh & Blood
Under the suit, it remains flesh & blood. Injury creates a blood trail that changes how Crookwood hunts it. Blood rings the dinner bell.
Nine Lives
A Scritch gets 9 lives—illustrated by 9 cats’ heads.
Die & you lose a life.
Powered By Sugar & Ectoplasm
A Scritch needs energy to survive & dig.
A Scritch burns sugar from donuts while walking, digging & running.
SKRITCH
The little creature inside is a Scritch.
Shrift calls it a “pest”, “vermin” or a “Villain”—or worse.
The Scritch speaks a repeatable invented language called SKRITCH, using recurring words, props, actions & names that the audience may come to learn.
It talks constantly to itself: planning, worrying, arguing, snickering, singing & working through the grave robbery aloud.
Listen closely. That little argument with itself might be a clue.











































