Cut to Hamunaptra. We see lots and lots of diggers digging. (I'm very articulate. ^_^)
SUBTITLES: HAMUNAPTRA - City of the Dead.
Cut to Lock-Jaw.
LOCK-JAW: The Book of the Dead gives life...
Enter Meela.
MEELA: And the Book of the 101 Lame Mummy Jokes... makes people cry.
LOCK-JAW: I thought that was my job.
MEELA: We're getting close.
LOCK-JAW: Really?
MEELA: No, but it makes me sound important.
Cut to a gigantic searchlight.
AUDIENCE: AHHH! THE LIGHT!!!
The camera moves away from the light and we see the curator.
AUDIENCE: EWW!!!!
Cut to an old red truck driving down the sand at 100 MPH, hitting random workers. It slows, stops, and Red, Jacques, and Spivey get out.
The curator walks up to them.
CURATOR: Did you acquire it?
Suddenly a gigantic earthquake shakes the dig site.
Cut to the gigantic hole the diggers are digging. A mound of sand starts to rise up. It gets higher and higher.
Suddenly it pops open and about a thousand scarabs run out.
SCARABS: FREEDOM!!!
Then they stop. The workers look at the bugs, and the bugs look at the workers. A couple of the bugs blink.
RANDOM DIGGER: Aww... how cute!
He is beaten to death by his colleagues.
Suddenly the scarabs all put out tiny Bill Clinton masks.
DIGGERS: AHHHHHHHHHH!
All the diggers scramble to get out of the pit, while the scarabs chase after them, chanting in very high voices.
SCARABS: I did not have a sexual relationship with that woman. I did not have a sexual relationship with that woman. I did not--
ANOTHER RANDOM DIGGER: AHHHHHHH! MAKE IT STOP!!!!!!!!!
A couple of men with flamethrowers go over to the pit and starts blasting the evil Clinton-scarabs to hell.
We zoom over to Meela and Lock-Jaw.
MEELA: We're getting very close.
LOCK-JAW: Really?
MEELA: NO!
They go over and get in a car. (I don't know why they do this, because they're both in the next scene. o_O)
Cut back to the flamethrower-dudes.
FLAMETHROWER-DUDE 1: DIE EVIL SCUM!!!!
The camera moves and we can see the curator.
AUDIENCE: EWW!!!
Someone yells something incoherent, but the curator understands it anyway.
CURATOR: We found him!
And they all start running over to an entirely different place than the one they were digging in. A couple of diggers are singing the Survivor theme. (Which is actually a Russian folksong.)
DIGGERS: Ay-hey-hoi-hoi-hoi-ay-ha-ah-ey-hey-hoi-ay-hoi-ey-ha-ah.
CURATOR: SHUT UP!
We see a large crane lowering a two big chunks of, what looks like, petrified boogers.
The curator goes up to them and looks into one.
CURATOR: It's him! It's Imhotep!
Meela runs her hand over the hard glop without touching it.
AUDIENCE: Well, duh! Who would touch it?
MEELA: And what about the other one?
CURATOR: Take it anyway. We can sell it.
LOCK-JAW: Now we must raise those who serve him.
He takes a jar from a worker as we hear some off-screen grumbling.
RED: Get out of my way. Get out of the way.
Meela, Lock-Jaw, and the curator turn to look at where the voice had come from. Cut to Red.
RED: Get out of my way or I'm gonna shoot 'choo in the face!
SPIVEY: He means it, he shot someone before.
The worker doesn't move. Red takes out his gun and, well, shoots him in the face.
WORKER: AIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
The curator walks to them.
CURATOR: Give it to me.
Red raises and eyebrow and the curator blushes.
RED (WHISPERING): Later.
MEELA: Did you get the tutu?
RED: The, uh, opportunity passed us by.
CURATOR: We need that tutu.
LOCK-JAW: And we need it before it opens.
Everyone draws their guns. Jacques moves Spivey's gun so it is pointed at Red's head.
MEELA: Enough! Jeez, why do I put up with you?
They all lower their guns.
CURATOR: Well, you... you put up with me because I can read and write Ancient Egyptian... and I can decipher hieroglyphics and heretic, and well, I am the only person with in a thousand miles who knows how to properly code and, and catalog this library, that's why!
Meela raises an eyebrow.
MEELA: Now I know you wanted to play the part of Evelyn but that's no reason to go around quoting her like a sore loser!
CURATOR (MUMBLING): I can act ten times better than that Rachel bitch.
A bunch of Evy fans come out from the audience and beat him.
MEELA: My dear Hafez, I told you I should've handled it!
CURATOR: I did not want your past history as a Nazi to cloud the issue.
MEELA: Oh. Hey, wait a minute!
CURATOR: Besides, you make the best anchovy-and-spinach-on-pumpernickel-with-strawberry-jam-sandwich I've ever had.
MEELA: Err... thanks.
RED: Don't you worry ma'am, we know where it is. We'll take care of it.
CURATOR: No, we'll take care of it. I have a different chore for you now.
SPIVEY: You don't want us to wash your underwear again, do you?
CURATOR: No.
MEELA: Where is the tutu?
RED: It's on its way to Honolulu, Hawaii.
CURATOR: Then Hawaii is where we must go.
Red sniggers, but no one notices. The curator walks through the crowd, and we see Ardeth, wrapped in a maroon blanket.
Cut to Hawaii.
CURATOR: Okay, is this someone's idea of a joke?!?
Cut to London, the O'Connell chicken coop.
EVY: I think the tutu is some sort of guide, to the Oasis of O-Wah-Ta-Gu-Siam.
RICK: The oasis of what?
EVY: O-Wah-Ta-Gu-Siam.
RICK: Could you say it a little faster?
EVY: OhWahTaGuSiam.
RICK: Faster.
EVY: OhwhatagooseIam!
Rick breaks down laughing.
EVY: What is so funny?
RICK: Nothing. Let me guess - you want to go out and look for it.
EVY: Precisely.
RICK: No. We just got home!
EVY: Well that's the beauty of it - we're already packed!
RICK: But everything needs to be washed...
EVY: Screw the washing.
RICK: Why don't you just give me 3000 good reasons...
EVY: It's just an oasis, snugglebuns.
RICK: Please don't call me that.
EVY: An ugly, boring, disgusting oasis... no, wait.
RICK: Exactly my point...
EVY: Screw you.
RICK: Nice try.