- Age / Gender:
- 32, Male
- Hell on Earth
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A certain elegance must be maintained in all things; apperances kept up. Smile through gritted teeth as the world whips you with barbed wire. Nothing can be more important than civility. Be polite, kind, courteous; even when swinging that fire poker.
- Community Stats
Level 20 Blank Slate
Ranked as Police Officer
Contact Info / Websites
Happy two days after Valentines Newgrounds, I got you some mummies.
Too Many Mummies
The electronic warbling of the phone cut through the thick silence of the room. It went quiet for a moment, as if waiting to be answered. The air was still, the anticipation palpable. The phone broke the silence with its harsh noise again. This time it was acknowledged with a groan from the dirty pile of blankets on the bed. Slowly they rose, taking a vaguely human form. As the phone called again the covers were pulled off to reveal a drowsy, unwashed man. One of his hands groped its way over the coffee table to grab the phone while the other ran through his dirty blonde goatee. Grabbing the phone, he flipped it open and pressed it to his ear, his head drooping sleepily.
"Reggie? Reggie is that you, are you there man?" the voice on the other end was frantic and laced with fear. Reggie would've found something to be extremely wrong if he was alert enough to pay attention.
"Ugh." He grunted.
"Oh thank god," some of the edge was taken off, though it was still noticeable. "I need you to get over here right now man. I need your help."
"Yeah no problem," Reggie snorted, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Just call me up at.." His eyes darted over to the digital clock, "... eleven in the morning and expect me to come running. What am I, your stack of flapjacks?"
"You don't understand-"
"Lemme guess, you don't remember her name? Try something starting with an N, that's what it usually-"
"GET SERIOUS!" the man on the other end screamed. "This is big, like, you don't understand how important this is."
"Jeez," he groaned, only annoyed by his friend's urgency. "if you're gonna be that way about it, what is it?"
The man on the other line was consumed by frantic babbling. Reggie closed his sagging eyes and waited for it to end. And waited, and waited. This is the price of friends, he thought. Sometimes it was just too much to put up with other people's problems. That's why he lived the easy life. Sure he wasn't going to go anywhere or do anything big, but hey, when you've got everything you needed why throw it all away?
He caught a few splashes of their extremely one-sided conversation. Something about a nurse, problems with his mom, and 'come over right now' repeated about twenty times. It probably did have to do with his mother and a nurse. The old bat was always in and out of hospitals trying to find some miracle way to cure a disease she'd invented for attention. Maybe she punched out a nurse? It wouldn't have been the first time.
"All right," he said when he noticed the only thing he could hear was breathing, and that his friend's rant had stopped. "I'll be over in about fifteen minutes."
"Okay thanks," the voice exhaled in relief. "You don't know how much this means to me."
There might have been more coming but Reggie hung up the phone. "It had better mean alot; there goes my entire day." He considered something else before adding, "And my smile."
The old beige Commodore turned into the parking lot. Reggie drove down the rows of equally depressing cars until he reached the edge of the asphalt. It was as good a place as any, he reasoned; pulling up onto the newly planted grass. Getting out, he looked up at the generic apartment complex. It looked exactly like his, down to the seemingly dead flowers lining the cracked cement walk.
The Autumn wind blew his long blonde hair out behind him as he walked forward. He climbed the stairs, idly wondering if he'd still be able to climb them as a geriatric old man.
His thoughts were cut short as he almost ran smack-dab into the door. The tarnished faux-brass numbers read 564, and there was what looked like the imprint of a man's head in the wood. This was definitely the right place. Sighing, he reached up to grab the knocker. Before his hand was even halfway there however the door was jerked open.
"Hey Jim, no hug?" He asked.
Jim rolled his eyes in irritation. "When I said that stuff over the phone I really meant it. Don't act like this." Jim seemed a little agitated, but not as badly as when they were talking earlier. He'd get over it eventually, it was nothing new.
"Sure, whatever." Reggie muttered as he brushed past his shorter, stockier friend to get inside. "So what happened with your mom?" He asked.
Jim turned around, angrily comprehending what had happened . "On the phone, you weren't listening to a single thing I said, were you?!"
"Pfffff, no." Reggie chuckled to himself as he turned right where the paste white hallway wall ended. "But really man how many times has crap like this happ-" He froze as he took in the entire room.
He instantly counted twelve, they weren't hard to miss. Mummies. Stinking, undead, toilet paper covered mummies. They stood around nonchalantly as if waiting to be seated at a cushy restaurant; all were in various stages of hideous rot. As he gawped one turned to look at him, opening its fleshless jaw impossibly wide. The room grew chilly around him and there was the sound of air being sucked into the desiccated monster's gaping maw. In the background several of the others began to chant in a guttural and incomprehensible language.
"Dude," Reggie laughed, "I think this one's like, trying to suck out my soul." Jim whimpered and began to hyperventilate as Reggie coolly looked back at him, an idiotic smile on his face. After a few seconds the mummy stopped, realizing its effort was a futile one. Turning, it shuffled off to paw at some empty cans left on the kitchen counter. "Trippy..." Reggie said, waving a hand in front of his face.
"It-it....that...thing," Jim finally managed to spit out, "it was going to, I dunno, suck your soul or spirit or something out." He was trembling, his back pressed against the wall as close as humanly possible.
"It's harmless Jim. I mean, if it could've done anything to me right there it would've. You saw though, little guy's about as dangerous as a kitten." Little was an inaccurate word, as each of the horrors stood over seven feet tall. The realization hit Jim's face like a drunken midget thrown off a Ferris wheel. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself at a loss for words. "See? You've been worrying too much. Just go..." he drifted between the mummies before flopping down on the couch beside and especially soiled one, "..with the flow. What's up Imhotep?" The only response was a dry, hacking cough.
"I guess you've got a point," Jim cautioned, "but why are they here?"
Reggie shrugged, snatching the remote out of Imhotep's stiff hands. "What are you going to do with 'em?" he asked. He settled on some station with a droning narrator that was broadcasting an aerial view of the pyramids; it was fitting.
Exhaling in exasperation, Jim said, "That's why I brought you here, I figured you'd know what to do."
"Have you tried luring them away with brains?"
Reggie paused to think, "Aren't mummies just zombies with toilet paper?"
"Shut up." Jim was starting to go back to his usual, whiney self. "Besides mummies have magic curses or something I think."
Reggie scanned the room, observing the mummies more closely now. Their decomposition seemed more serious than it did before. Beside him there came a dry thud. One of the ancient kings had migrated over to him, and in the process had put just a little too much stress on its atrophied muscles. He looked down to see a thin grey arm twitching on the carpet. The bands encircling it flashed in the harsh light. "Do you know what that is?" He asked, letting some excitement creep into his normally impassive voice.
"A hand. A dead hand." Jim replied disgustedly. Reggie shook his head; his stringy hair fluttering about with the motion.
"What's on the hand?" The question was rhetorical, the material the bands were made of was obviously gold. Jim's jaw dropped in surprise. "We are gonna be made! The easy life from here on out, nothing but rest and relaxation baby!" He shouted, jumping up. Imhotep slowly turned to look up at him even though his eyes were covered in bandages. "All we need to do man, is collect."
"Yeah!" Jim exclaimed as he rushed over to the dirtiest mummy; the one Jim called Imhotep. There was an ankh around his neck, its pendulous gold form just hanging there, waiting to be taken. Jim reached out, stubby fingers wiggling, and grabbed hold of the ankh.
"AHKET AMEMNU KHU OPHET NAMAN!" howled Imhotep, a ghostly purple light flashing from between the gaps in his bandages. His ribcage burst open, a flood of scorpions skittering forth, their black carapaces glittering despite the light of the room. All of the other mummies turned, their voices rising into a wailing cacophony of blasphemous eldritch curses. Jim himself began screaming and released the ankh, throwing himself backwards; away from the fiends.
The ritual abruptly stopped, and the pharaohs went back to sitting around like so much unliving furniture. The television continued its monotonous drone. Reggie glanced at the now placid tomb king, then back to Jim. "So you were right about the curses; maybe don't try that again?"
Jim sat there shivering, blanched with fear. "Wh-wha-wh....oh momma...please no please oh god..." Reggie shook his head an offered a hand to his friend, who took it with his own damp, shaky one.
Lifting him, Reggie ask, "Are you alright man? Not gonna go all Gary Busey on me, are you?" Jim nodded uncertainly, and mumbled something that sounded like 'I'm fine'. It was good enough for Reggie. "Ok, new plan here. Instead of trying to mug a malevolent king of the dead for his mystical bling, we're going to take them outside," though still frightened Jim leaned in to listen, "and we're gonna find some way to get them into the street so that they get hit by cars. Then we can get out there and loot them."
"That is the single stupidest thing I have ever heard." stated Jim; the sheer idiocy shocking him back into reality.
"Well," Reggie began, "feel free to try and take it from him again." Jim cautioned a peek at Imhotep, who looked right back at him, almost daring Jim to give it another go.
Jim gulped, "What do you propose we do then?"
Reggie considered what to do for a minute. A few different ideas ran through his mind, but most seemed to end with him getting ripped limb from limb by the mummies. That wouldn't be good at all, he couldn't reap the rewards of stealing from the dead if he himself was dead. The narrator on television still soldiered on about the majesty of ancient Egypt, and at last he came to what seemed to be a good conclusion. "Hey you guys," he shouted, his voice easily filling the pitifully small room. "I heard you like pyramids!" A few of them stopped milling about and gave him what attention they could muster; though Jim continued to stare at him with incredulity. "Because there's like, twenty pyramids out there," he pointed to the door, "and like, a...whatdoyoucallthosethings..... a Sphinx too!"
The room was quiet, but then the sound of crusty cloth and papers rubbing together started up as the mummies began shuffling toward the door. Just barely audible over the mummies' reinvigorated groans came Jim's voice, "There is no way this is going to work."
The car's horned blared and its tires screeched as the driver tried desperately to stop in time. The attempt was in vain, the driver's efforts being rewarded with first a muffled thump, then a crunch. The tires squealed again as the driver floored it, trying to escape the scene of what would probably have been considered vehicular manslaughter. "How many is that?" asked a grinning Reggie.
"There is no way this should be working." said Jim. Reggie looked down at him smugly. "Alright, that was...six." He said, making a quick headcount.
"What did I tell you? Go with the flow, and everything will turn out alright. I'd say that's about eighty-thousand in lost treasure sitting out there already. Okay Imhotep, you're the next pharaoh who gets to try his luck at getting to the underworld!" He turned to look at Imhotep, who was sitting on the sidewalk, holding one of the scorpions that had not immediately escaped his chest cavity. "C'mon buddy, let's get you out there!" He said cheerfully.
Imhotep looked at him, and shook his bandaged head slowly. The cracking of his old bones could be heard. "You don't wanna go see Ra and that uhhh.... jackal guy?" Imhotep stared past him to the mummy-littered street. "Those guys, they weren't worth of Jackalman," said Reggie, "but now you; you definitely are dude." Imhotep stood, "There we go dude, roll with it, that's like, eternal peace and stuff out there." and turned around. He put one boney leg in front of the other and began to hobble off down the walk. "Hey!" he shouted, though he didn't bother to chase after the fleeing mummy, "come back here man! Eternal peace, seventy-eight virgins!" The mummy kept walking away through it all.
As Reggie watched a twelfth of his money disappear into the sunset he began to wonder; wonder why Imhotep hadn't gone when all the others had, why he hadn't taken the offer, no matter how much of a lie it had been. "Wow," he said, thinking of all the times in his life he'd done something self-destructive because he thought it would bring him pleasure. "there's a lesson to be learned here." he began. "What if going with everyone else isn't always the best thing to do? Just because something might seem fun, you can be seriously hurting yourself or your loved ones. Getting out and doing what you believe in is the best thing someone can do in their life. Even if you fail, you're at least building morals and learning how to follow your dreams. Maybe deep down in our hearts, we should all try to be more like cold, emotionless mummies..." A tear ran down his cheek as Imhotep faded into the distance.
"You are an idiot," said Jim, "I don't even remember why I'm friends with you."
"I know," agreed Reggie, "it sure was beautiful. Now hurry up, we've gotta shove these other five out there before it gets dark."
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