Pop Goes the Weasel
Chapter II
Sand SUCKS. I hate sand. Sand gets stuck everywhere... And I mean everywhere. That apparently is the preferred choice of transformation for ancient, undead mummies, from my personal experience at least. It got us back to Cairo, anyway. Sand does not do wonders for men... It's like cold water... but... itchy.
I, however, am never going to a beach again.
Anyway, aside from the transportation, the ride was great. Wonderful view of Egypt; they should do that for all the tourists...
So, we get back to Cairo. Whoopee... Imhotep begs me to help get back those jars from the Americans, sounding like a kid wanting a new toy... All right, I assumed this guy didn't hear "No" too often.
So we mosey along over to the hotel. The American with the glasses was first on the shopping list.
Of course he no longer had glasses, as I remember having a certain accident that squished them into oblivion... Well, apparently he didn't need them anymore for the simple reason that his eyeballs were MIA...
Well, it made me feel better about it, anyway.
Now, what the hell was this guy's name... Bunny, Buns, Burns, that was it!
"Mr. Burns, Prince Imhotep thanks you for your hospitality..."
Yes, how kind you were. Wait, when the hell did this guy become a prince???
"...And for your eyes, and for your tongue..."
Oh, yeah, those, too. Come in real handy, they do...
"But, I'm afraid more is needed."
Afraid? Fuck that, I could care less.
Oh, well, better him than me, I guess. At least ol' Bag-o-bones put him out of his misery... I guess you never really know someone until you see 'em eat. It did wonders in cleansing my stomach--I don't even remember eating peas...
I wasn't scared, of course I wasn't scared, not after seeing Imhotep suck the flesh off a guy like a Hoover vacuum. I... just decided to take a stroll.
"Beni!"
Shit.
Damn O'Connell, damn him, damn that man!
"Where've you been?"
Up your--None of your damn business.
Call me crazy, but I think Imhotep was singing. He let out this roaring scream rookie opera star thing and I slipped out from Dumdum's greasy fingers.
Basically, I just hung around Cairo while Imhotep did... stuff. I didn't know what the hell he was doing; he could've been getting laid for all I knew, or cared. God knows after 3,000 years, he sure as hell needed it.
I was indoors, of course, as I'm not too fond of the rain.
At least not when it's raining fire.
You know, whole ten plagues of Egypt thing. Yeah,that. Couldn't even get a damn drink since the undead bastard turned everything to blood. Damn it! I couldn't even get drunk. At least I'm not one of those retards who goes around telling everyone that they're high 'on life'. Right. That is sooooooo code for crack...
That air force fella was a hoot to watch, though, so shit-faced he was running into walls.
I didn't have a problem finding old Imy when I got sick of hanging around: just follow the screams... He sent me to look for that heavy ass black book the Egyptologist bastard made off with. Piece of cake. Start with the office, no problem. After all, what idiot would be carrying a fifty-pound book around Cairo?
That idiot would. For someone so smart, he was a fucking retard.
I hope his goddam arms would fall off.
So I pick through his office, turning drawers over, hoping I could find something worth my time. And then the door creaked open.
"Lemme guess: spring cleaning?"
Son of a bitch.
Everyone knows that Me plus O'Connell = pain for me
Screw that, I ran straight for the window.
Dumb ass threw a chair at me! A friggin' chair, for God's sake!
And it hurt like hell.
Before I even could pull myself up from the floor, the bastard marches right up behind me.
"Aw, Beni, did you fall down?"
No, dumb ass, I decided it was time for my midday siesta.
"Here, lemme help you up."
Up? Up your ass, O'Connell. Shove it.
Remind me to go back later and set fire to Chamberlain's goddam bookshelves. I think they gave me scoliosis.
"You came back from the desert with a new friend, didn't you, Beni?"
Please, even a guy as attractive as I am is going to have some problems meeting people in the middle of the godforsaken desert...
"What friend; you are my only friend!"
Damn Chamberlain. Damn Chamberlain and every hard, painful object on top of his freakin' desk.
"Whatcha doin' with this creep, huh, Beni? What's in it for you?"
Oh. That friend.
Well, let's see, the fact that I'm not gonna die kinda won me over, yeah.
"It is better to be the right hand of the devil than in his path..."
Did I mention I was a philosophy major? I didn't think so. Damn I'm good.
"As long as I serve him, I am immune."
Ha. Top that. Try to come up with one of your oh-so-witty comebacks. And 'Yo Momma' doesn't count.
"Immune from what?"
C'mon, genius, it's not rocket science. Then again, you have trouble counting to twenty...
"Piszkas allat."
Hell, that's what. Your birthplace. Bastard.
"What did you say?"
If you got this damn piece of paper off my head, I just might tell you... Or not.
"I don't wanna tell you; you'll just hurt me some more."
And we've already established that I don't like pain. So kiss my--
"What are you looking for? And try not to lie to me..."
Lie is such a negative word... AAEEEHHH!
"The book! The black book they found at Hammunaptra, he wants it back! He says it will be worth its weight in gold!"
And if you haven't noticed, that is one damn heavy book.
Good, dummy, take my head away from the fan...
The boozer, the librarian's brother was there too? Dude, where the hell did he come from?
"What does he want the book for?"
"Oh, come on, how am I sup---"
Like I'd tell your sorry ass. Nothing could make me te--
Okay, again, fan near face, ehhhh... I am personally going to kill whoever invented the ceiling fan. Whoever the bastard was, he deserves to be shot. Several times. And thrown down the stairs.
"Something about bringing his dead girlfriend back to life..."
It's really none of your business; this isn't Jerry Springer.
"But that's all he wants, I swear! Just the book, I swear!"
Oh, yeah—
"And your sister--but other than that..."
What's the matter, O'Connell, afraid of a little competition?
Screams were a dead giveaway as to Imy's location. So while O'Connell and the British drunk were contemplating, I hightail it straight out the window.
What I wouldn't give for a body cast...