Universal Monsters XIII

The other mummies were more productive .They were trying to bring the mountain to Mohamed.  They were trying to build pyramids.  But south Florida is made almost entirely of strip malls and swampland.  If the ground can support a discount haberdashery, then one has been built there.  Step off the sidewalk at your own risk.  Hope you can swim.  
 
So the rags kept breaking off chunks of Gap Outlets and Sunglasses Huts and trying to stack them and watching them sink.  This went on all day.  We watched from beneath a nearby tree.  Jackson found most of a movie theatre and brought back popcorn and we sat in the shade and it was a damn good show.  

Sometimes they’d get their bandages stuck on one another, or a leg would fall off and they’d just hop around for a bit and fall down and, overall, it was a highlight of the end of days, we all agreed.

Every time a pyramid would sink, hundreds of mummies would curse in unison and we realized all the legends were based on misunderstandings and homophones and shit.  The curse of the mummy.  And if you’ve never heard a mummy swear, it’s fantastic.  It sounds like if Al Pacino were a frog that had a squirrel stuck in its throat.  And he was pretty pissed-off about it.

Space explained the pyramids of Egypt to us.  He said they were designed by Imhotep, who we thought was a made up movie monster, but we were glad to be told his name because that had been bothering us all day.  He said they were tombs for Pharaohs.  The Pharaohs died, were mummified and placed inside, along with their consorts,  for their eternal slumber.  Or at least until they showed up on the Gulf of Mexico in the early 21st century.  But the pyramids were tombs.  Tombs for the things that were now building them.  Basically, the damn undead rags were putting up condos.

Space told us there were a few different ideas about what the pyramids actually meant.  He said they were tombs, for sure, but that some people believed they were also meant to be resurrection machines.  We all nodded and agreed that that was scary, and that “resurrection machines” would be an awesome band name.

Eventually the rags sunk enough shit that the new shit started to stay up, built on a scaffold of what used to be Arbys and Costcos now buried feet and feet under marsh.  They were mummies and they were evil and probably they killed a lot of people on that Tuesday, but they were ambitious, we had to give them that.  And they were tenacious.

“It’s almost, it’s impressive, right?” Jackson said, trying to work a kernel of stale popcorn out of his teeth.  “There’s a lesson in there or something.  About not giving up.  They just failed until they stopped failing, you know.  They were wrong until they were right.  And they are literally building their success on the foundation of their fuckups.”  He looked to Space to make sure he was using the word, “literally” correctly.  Space threw him back a half-nod and Jackson was child-like in his acceptance of the praise.  “It’s impressive.  And those dudes are dead!  Imagine what they probably accomplished when they had, like, brains and skin and internal organs and shit.”

Lucian nodded.  “Totally.  We should set them on fire, now.”

Everyone agreed this was an excellent plan.  It had been a great show but it was time, now, for a little murder.

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The audiobook version of Chapter 13 is now available.  Click here to listen to my…tones.