The museum shuts down. The mummy sits up

The museum shuts down. The mummy sits up and yawns.

King Tut felt unraveled. He needed to freshen up before his romantic rendevous but couldn't find the bidet. It was a shame, really. Ever since the mummification thing, his dating

was dated, carbon to be exact. King Tut looked again in the mirror. If he used an ace bandage and some duct tape, maybe he could hold it together just this once. The doorbell rang,

Lurching to the door, all taped up, King Tut opened it. Two little girls in green uniforms stood there. "Mister, you look like you could use some cookies. Want some?" King Tut

intoned, "Tut-tut, cookies are fattening, but maybe just a few... Have any of those chocolate-mint ones?" The two girl scouts dug through their bag and passed him a box.

It was an epipen. I looked at them both, first one then the other. Then back at the epipen while licking the final cookie crumbs from my fingers. "Better than cookies," I asked.

The epipen was really for bee stings. I used it for other things. My grandmother used something like it for many things. That stirred my imagination. These were interesting times.

Mainly I used the epipen for making tattoos on my little friends. First I'd administer the punctures, then I'd rub an ink pad into the wound. Karl, the face on my toe, was created

after I died from anaphylactic shock. I'd got all the puctures set perfectly, but a hornet stung me & then blood coagulated. At least I have the best looking toe in the morgue!