He’s been cooped up in that tomb for 35 hundred years. Now that his eternal slumber has been disturbed, he’s ready to spread his cursed terror on mankind, and mingle with a few of the ladies.
But the centuries haven’t been kind to those threads. And when you’re the dead ruler of Egypt who has returned from the netherworld, threads is all you got. Times have changed. Ladies don’t want to be stalked and taken by some nappy-threaded mummy dripping with bodily fluids and brain drainage. Nope. Modern ladies want to be wined and dined by some mummy in bright, bleached, shiny threads sprayed with stain removers. Looks like the swaddled king needs a quick trip to the supermarket, aisle 12. And while he’s there, maybe he can remember to pick up some duct tape, you know, for those annoying loose dangley frays.
