MUMMY'S DON'T EAT FRUIT CAKE
NOTE: Let it be known that mummy's certainly would never eat fruit cake, Halloween night esp. if its left over from last December. It would be an unearthly phenomena, as if mummies are earthly, but like I said, no fruit cake for mummies . . . except for Tutenstein that is.
2nd NOTE: I'd just like to sat I'm real big on the "not being fiery" thing. Constructive criticism is allowed but there's no need to be angry about a cartoon, right? So enjoy or don't but here's my very first Tutenstein fic.
Dacki
CHAPTER ONE
WE . . . 'RE OFF TO JENNA'S PARTY
The sun rose on the hot sands of Egypt and sparkled over the long, wide Nile River. The sky was as clear and was as dry as the ground below it for not a cloud would be seen for miles and miles over the dunes. A snake slithered by leaving a little trail behind it as it slithered up a large sand dune. As the snake reached the top a large city could be seen huddling next to the Nile River.
Everyone there was very busy. The drudges and slaves were carrying errands for their masters who were carrying out the orders of their masters who were carrying out the orders of the pharaoh. It was a very lovely city but then the pharaoh wouldn't have it any other way for unlike the burning sands surrounding the city, tropical plants flourished especially down the main street.
You couldn't help but be attracted by this street. Only fine buildings lined it and the finest trees stood beside them. The street was paved of gold and silver with little red rubies popping up here and there. And if you were on the main street you certainly couldn't help but notice the magnificent Egyptian palace, which was made of nothing but the finest of material – even finer than gold. Two strong guards stood on either side of the large crystal doors with golden handles decorated to the finest degree. The halls were as white as snow and the far away ceiling, as black as ink. And down the long hall two emerald doors stood wide open with golden handles even finer than the ones at the front. Inside there were black haired maidens playing sweet soothing music each dressed very finely in crimson. Three pearl-white cats with long slender bodies and nicely tipped ears sat on cushions on the floor being served the best of feline delicacies.
But despite all of this the one thing you could not help at all but notice was the pharaoh seated upon his high throne being fanned on either side by fair-faced servants. He had ordered for seat to be made high because he was much too short for a regular sized one. And there he sat, the boy Pharaoh, Tut-ank-en-set-amun, dressed so richly in jewels and gold that the only part of his body that showed through was his face, his feet, and the hand that held his golden scepter.
His eyes were closed concentrating on the melody of the music being played. Hardly moving he ordered for one of the servant to give him something to drink for he said, "My royal throat is much parched."
"Yes, sire," replied the servant softly bowing his head.
Suddenly the short royal highness heard voices and the voices interrupted the music being played. And the pharaoh, with a temper to equal his height flung open his eyes and shot his royal glare about the room.
"Who dares speak in the presence of the pharaoh! He has not ordered for anyone to speak!" He cried jumping up from his throne. "Show yourself at once, impertinence!"
But no one did and the voices continued.
The music now ceased to be heard and the young pharaoh was about to order them to continue but it was as If they were slowly drifting away. He felt drifty himself until the walls and servants and cats all drifted away to nothingness.
Slowly Tut opened his eyes to the dark backside of the cover of his sarcophagus. At first he was a bit startled but then memory came back to him. So it had just been a dream after all.
"Very well," he thought to himself with a shrug. It been a pleasant dream and even though it was exaggerated, as dreams are you know, it still made him think of home.
You would think Tut would be at least a little upset at remembering that her was millions of miles from home in the twenty-first century and maybe he was. If he was he wasn't even admitting to himself but more than being home sick – if he was, mind you – he hoped Cleo would come and visit him.
The voices that had interrupted his sleep were people visiting the museum led by the tour guide Penelope Ravioli, who really wasn't a very good tour guide. She had a special talent of making anything – even the most exciting things in history seem exceedingly boring. And despite her name she wasn't even Italian and didn't like ravioli or and pasta at all.
Listening to Penelope's flat, drab voice his royal deadness nodded off again himself.
If I were up to it, he thought with a slight yawn. I'd have her tossed into the Nile and drowned. But since the Nile is much too far away I will let her be for now.
Before he even knew he was asleep King Tut was roused by a knocking on his sarcophagus.
"Hey, Tutenstein, wake up!" Cleo Carter called with a hint of some unknown pleasure in her voice as if she had some special secret.
"Now, Cleo," he heard Luxor, his cat servant say. "You know his majesty won't like it. He might be terribly angry."
Tutenstein flung the lid wide open.
"What won't I like?" he demanded with boyish curiosity.
But he didn't see Cleo anywhere, only Luxor stood on the floor with a disagreeing look on his face.
"Where's Cleo?" Tut-ankh-en-set-amun asked hopping out of the sarcophagus.
"BOO!"
The boy spun around and came face to face with a hideous humanoid creature.
"AH!" he cried and toppled over on the floor.
The creature laughed and upon further glance Tutenstein could see that it was only Cleo.
"You should've seen you're face!" Cleo laughed.
Tutenstein grew hot in the face and scrambled to his rotting feet.
"It isn't funny," he protested brushing himself off.
"I told you he wouldn't find it amusing," Luxor said trying to help his master be rid of the dust he had picked up from the floor, though the floor was probably cleaner than his highness was.
"Amusing indeed," growled Tut. "Why are you dressed in such array."
"I'm a vampire, one of the undead children of the night," Cleo said in a deep Transelvanian accent pulling her back cape over her face so that only her eyes showed over it. She pulled the cape away revealing abnormally large cuspid teeth in her mouth hissing like a sick cat.
Tutenstein stared at her with an odd little expression of half curiosity and half annoyance.
"You've totally lost me," he said. "And I hardly find any of it humorous."
"Are you alright, master," Luxor asked humbly. "I told her you wouldn't like it."
"I am fine," replied Tutenstein gratefully. "But," he continued turning once again to Cleo, "I am very confused. Did you do this only to mock me?"
Cleo laughed again but it was a kinder softer sort of laugh.
"No, it's Halloween."
"Holawane?"
"Cleo wanted to know if you wanted to go to Jenna's party with her. For on Halloween it will be perfectly safe for his majesty to go out."
"What!" Cleo cried but she didn't get a chance to say anything for his royal shortness, the pharaoh interrupted her.
"I appreciate your invitation as a sign of repentance," said Tutenstein. "I accept."
Cleo's mouth dropped. No way was she about to bring Tutenstein to a party. Sure no one would know who was but he'd still get himself – and her – into trouble and she knew it, not to mention what Jenna would think if Cleo brought a rude uninvited guest to her party.
What was Luxor thinking! She thought furiously. Did he have too much catnip or what?
She didn't say anything, however and gave a quick cross glance at Luxor.
"Shall I escort you, King Tut-ankh-en-set-amun?" asked Luxor who didn't seem to notice Cleo's glare.
Tutenstein nodded. "You shall. Now let us go forth to this Jennas Party. It is good of them to invite the pharaoh."
"Very good, your royal highness," agreed Luxor.
"Well, are you coming, Tut, or are you just gunna stand there talkin' about it all night?" Cleo asked crossing her arms.
"Cleo!" cried Luxor very shocked indeed.
"What?"
"No, Luxor, she is right, let us take leave and let us make haste!" ordered the pharaoh.
So they "made haste" out of the Egyptian room down the hall, Tut leading the way. They passed the desk where Walter, the security guard, almost fainted at the site of the children, mostly the mummy, before he remembered it was Halloween. He laughed to himself for acting so silly.
Cleo sighed.
Good, Walter's not suspicious, I just hope that Professor Be-
But Cleo didn't get a chance to finish for right around the corner came Professor Behdety himself. At first he didn't seem to notice but he did a double take and gasped.
The trio stopped.
Cleo held her breath.
Luxor's claws dug painfully into the hard floor.
Tutenstein, however, only stared back at his friend and cat-servant and then at the professor and thought that they all looked as if they saw the most terrifying creature.
For a few yearlong minutes Cleo felt like she swallowed a bug and a dozen more were crawling up her back.
This is it! One thought managed to spring up over all the other millions of thought racing through her mind.
Professor Behdety smiled his wry smile, though he couldn't really smile any other way.
"For a minute there," he said to Tutenstein, "I thought you were actually our mummy, Tut-ankh-en-set-amun."
Tutenstein arrogantly closed his eyes and with his best commanding voice he began, "That is because I am-"
Cleo grabbed Tut's shoulder and quickly interrupted. "We, uh, worked really hard on our costumes," she said, her voice trembling. "We entered one of those costume contests, you know, and, uh, well, we really wanna win. Heh, heh."
"Indeed," the professor said raising a brow. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, uh, I f . . . forgot something the last time I was here, yeah. We don't wanna be late for the contest. Well, see ya, Professor B."
NOTE: Let it be known that mummy's certainly would never eat fruit cake, Halloween night esp. if its left over from last December. It would be an unearthly phenomena, as if mummies are earthly, but like I said, no fruit cake for mummies . . . except for Tutenstein that is.
2nd NOTE: I'd just like to sat I'm real big on the "not being fiery" thing. Constructive criticism is allowed but there's no need to be angry about a cartoon, right? So enjoy or don't but here's my very first Tutenstein fic.
Dacki
CHAPTER ONE
WE . . . 'RE OFF TO JENNA'S PARTY
The sun rose on the hot sands of Egypt and sparkled over the long, wide Nile River. The sky was as clear and was as dry as the ground below it for not a cloud would be seen for miles and miles over the dunes. A snake slithered by leaving a little trail behind it as it slithered up a large sand dune. As the snake reached the top a large city could be seen huddling next to the Nile River.
Everyone there was very busy. The drudges and slaves were carrying errands for their masters who were carrying out the orders of their masters who were carrying out the orders of the pharaoh. It was a very lovely city but then the pharaoh wouldn't have it any other way for unlike the burning sands surrounding the city, tropical plants flourished especially down the main street.
You couldn't help but be attracted by this street. Only fine buildings lined it and the finest trees stood beside them. The street was paved of gold and silver with little red rubies popping up here and there. And if you were on the main street you certainly couldn't help but notice the magnificent Egyptian palace, which was made of nothing but the finest of material – even finer than gold. Two strong guards stood on either side of the large crystal doors with golden handles decorated to the finest degree. The halls were as white as snow and the far away ceiling, as black as ink. And down the long hall two emerald doors stood wide open with golden handles even finer than the ones at the front. Inside there were black haired maidens playing sweet soothing music each dressed very finely in crimson. Three pearl-white cats with long slender bodies and nicely tipped ears sat on cushions on the floor being served the best of feline delicacies.
But despite all of this the one thing you could not help at all but notice was the pharaoh seated upon his high throne being fanned on either side by fair-faced servants. He had ordered for seat to be made high because he was much too short for a regular sized one. And there he sat, the boy Pharaoh, Tut-ank-en-set-amun, dressed so richly in jewels and gold that the only part of his body that showed through was his face, his feet, and the hand that held his golden scepter.
His eyes were closed concentrating on the melody of the music being played. Hardly moving he ordered for one of the servant to give him something to drink for he said, "My royal throat is much parched."
"Yes, sire," replied the servant softly bowing his head.
Suddenly the short royal highness heard voices and the voices interrupted the music being played. And the pharaoh, with a temper to equal his height flung open his eyes and shot his royal glare about the room.
"Who dares speak in the presence of the pharaoh! He has not ordered for anyone to speak!" He cried jumping up from his throne. "Show yourself at once, impertinence!"
But no one did and the voices continued.
The music now ceased to be heard and the young pharaoh was about to order them to continue but it was as If they were slowly drifting away. He felt drifty himself until the walls and servants and cats all drifted away to nothingness.
Slowly Tut opened his eyes to the dark backside of the cover of his sarcophagus. At first he was a bit startled but then memory came back to him. So it had just been a dream after all.
"Very well," he thought to himself with a shrug. It been a pleasant dream and even though it was exaggerated, as dreams are you know, it still made him think of home.
You would think Tut would be at least a little upset at remembering that her was millions of miles from home in the twenty-first century and maybe he was. If he was he wasn't even admitting to himself but more than being home sick – if he was, mind you – he hoped Cleo would come and visit him.
The voices that had interrupted his sleep were people visiting the museum led by the tour guide Penelope Ravioli, who really wasn't a very good tour guide. She had a special talent of making anything – even the most exciting things in history seem exceedingly boring. And despite her name she wasn't even Italian and didn't like ravioli or and pasta at all.
Listening to Penelope's flat, drab voice his royal deadness nodded off again himself.
If I were up to it, he thought with a slight yawn. I'd have her tossed into the Nile and drowned. But since the Nile is much too far away I will let her be for now.
Before he even knew he was asleep King Tut was roused by a knocking on his sarcophagus.
"Hey, Tutenstein, wake up!" Cleo Carter called with a hint of some unknown pleasure in her voice as if she had some special secret.
"Now, Cleo," he heard Luxor, his cat servant say. "You know his majesty won't like it. He might be terribly angry."
Tutenstein flung the lid wide open.
"What won't I like?" he demanded with boyish curiosity.
But he didn't see Cleo anywhere, only Luxor stood on the floor with a disagreeing look on his face.
"Where's Cleo?" Tut-ankh-en-set-amun asked hopping out of the sarcophagus.
"BOO!"
The boy spun around and came face to face with a hideous humanoid creature.
"AH!" he cried and toppled over on the floor.
The creature laughed and upon further glance Tutenstein could see that it was only Cleo.
"You should've seen you're face!" Cleo laughed.
Tutenstein grew hot in the face and scrambled to his rotting feet.
"It isn't funny," he protested brushing himself off.
"I told you he wouldn't find it amusing," Luxor said trying to help his master be rid of the dust he had picked up from the floor, though the floor was probably cleaner than his highness was.
"Amusing indeed," growled Tut. "Why are you dressed in such array."
"I'm a vampire, one of the undead children of the night," Cleo said in a deep Transelvanian accent pulling her back cape over her face so that only her eyes showed over it. She pulled the cape away revealing abnormally large cuspid teeth in her mouth hissing like a sick cat.
Tutenstein stared at her with an odd little expression of half curiosity and half annoyance.
"You've totally lost me," he said. "And I hardly find any of it humorous."
"Are you alright, master," Luxor asked humbly. "I told her you wouldn't like it."
"I am fine," replied Tutenstein gratefully. "But," he continued turning once again to Cleo, "I am very confused. Did you do this only to mock me?"
Cleo laughed again but it was a kinder softer sort of laugh.
"No, it's Halloween."
"Holawane?"
"Cleo wanted to know if you wanted to go to Jenna's party with her. For on Halloween it will be perfectly safe for his majesty to go out."
"What!" Cleo cried but she didn't get a chance to say anything for his royal shortness, the pharaoh interrupted her.
"I appreciate your invitation as a sign of repentance," said Tutenstein. "I accept."
Cleo's mouth dropped. No way was she about to bring Tutenstein to a party. Sure no one would know who was but he'd still get himself – and her – into trouble and she knew it, not to mention what Jenna would think if Cleo brought a rude uninvited guest to her party.
What was Luxor thinking! She thought furiously. Did he have too much catnip or what?
She didn't say anything, however and gave a quick cross glance at Luxor.
"Shall I escort you, King Tut-ankh-en-set-amun?" asked Luxor who didn't seem to notice Cleo's glare.
Tutenstein nodded. "You shall. Now let us go forth to this Jennas Party. It is good of them to invite the pharaoh."
"Very good, your royal highness," agreed Luxor.
"Well, are you coming, Tut, or are you just gunna stand there talkin' about it all night?" Cleo asked crossing her arms.
"Cleo!" cried Luxor very shocked indeed.
"What?"
"No, Luxor, she is right, let us take leave and let us make haste!" ordered the pharaoh.
So they "made haste" out of the Egyptian room down the hall, Tut leading the way. They passed the desk where Walter, the security guard, almost fainted at the site of the children, mostly the mummy, before he remembered it was Halloween. He laughed to himself for acting so silly.
Cleo sighed.
Good, Walter's not suspicious, I just hope that Professor Be-
But Cleo didn't get a chance to finish for right around the corner came Professor Behdety himself. At first he didn't seem to notice but he did a double take and gasped.
The trio stopped.
Cleo held her breath.
Luxor's claws dug painfully into the hard floor.
Tutenstein, however, only stared back at his friend and cat-servant and then at the professor and thought that they all looked as if they saw the most terrifying creature.
For a few yearlong minutes Cleo felt like she swallowed a bug and a dozen more were crawling up her back.
This is it! One thought managed to spring up over all the other millions of thought racing through her mind.
Professor Behdety smiled his wry smile, though he couldn't really smile any other way.
"For a minute there," he said to Tutenstein, "I thought you were actually our mummy, Tut-ankh-en-set-amun."
Tutenstein arrogantly closed his eyes and with his best commanding voice he began, "That is because I am-"
Cleo grabbed Tut's shoulder and quickly interrupted. "We, uh, worked really hard on our costumes," she said, her voice trembling. "We entered one of those costume contests, you know, and, uh, well, we really wanna win. Heh, heh."
"Indeed," the professor said raising a brow. "What are you doing here?"
"Well, uh, I f . . . forgot something the last time I was here, yeah. We don't wanna be late for the contest. Well, see ya, Professor B."