The Trouble with Mummies

           Last week it was criminals; this week it’s mummies I’m curious about.

          Dozens of movies have been made about them and fans know all their “rules,” the same way vampire devotees know about sunlight and garlic.

          I’ve never watched an entire mummy movie, but I’ve seen short clips of these “undead” staggering along in rags, looking for people to drain of their life force.

          I want desperately to suspend my disbelief, but I have the same problem with them that I did with Guardians of the Galaxy (which I did love for its humor). The problem is that I start to wonder the following:

          Who makes their costumes? And where is the dry cleaners for same?

          Who cuts their hair? Do they pay taxes? Do laundry?

          Do they go to the dentist? What kind of insurance plan do they have?

          Are there schools in this neck of the galaxy? Pharmacies? Shoe stores?

          Where do they get the fuel for their vehicles?

          Do they eat? Cook? Wash dishes? Shop for groceries?

          In short, WHERE IS THEIR TOWN?

          What do mummies do when they’re not shuffling about? Do they sit down with a remote control and watch TV?

          I shared all these questions with a mummy aficionado friend of mine recently, and she slowly admitted she’d never thought of these things.  “Thanks for ruining my life,” she said.

          Wait. Isn’t that what mummies and vampires want to do to you?  Maybe I could have a whole following!

Or at least a bunch of people buying my books, right?