On a jam-packed freeway, a blazingly pink scooter was putt-putting along like a tortoise in a race.
The driver seemed to be digging this whole “slow and goofy” vibe, like he was in his own little world.
But the passenger perched behind?
She was staring skyward with a look that screamed “I give up.”
“Beep...”
The scooter let out these cutesy little toots every so often.
All of a sudden, a bellow cut through the calm.
“Michael , can’t you floor it any faster? You sightseeing or what?”
“I’m already throttling up as much as I can. This thing ain’t got no more speed!”
“...” Billy Jean was at a total loss for words.
“Don’t you got any other rides in your space?”
“Yeah! There’s a rusty ol’ rickshaw for junk, a Peppa Pig two-wheeler, a dump truck from a construction site, a baby buggy, a tiny remote-controlled toy car. Which one tickles your fancy?”
“...”
Billy Jean clammed up after that.
Well, the pink scooter would have to do.
It was what it was.
The pink scooter kept on chugging, weaving through the car gaps like a champ.
Out of the blue, Michael Joke felt the scooter get heavier.
He peeked in the rear-view mirror and froze solid.
His grip on the handlebars got a bit shaky, and the scooter lurched.
“Michael , eyes on the road,” Billy Jean snapped.
“Billy , you ever laid eyes on a mummy?”
“Just in the flicks.”
Michael Joke stared hard into the rear-view, his dark eyes going even darker.
“You scared of it?”
“Used to be, but now I’m a zombie.
It’s a mummy.
We’re sorta in the same undead boat, so what’s to fear?”
Billy Jean said with a shrug.
“Why you asking?”
Michael Joke tore his gaze away from the mirror.
“Nothing, just shooting the breeze.”
“Weird,” Billy Jean mumbled.
Come to think of it, though, she’d felt a cold draft on the back of her neck for a while now, and her hairs were standing at attention.
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Billy Jean shivered and scooted closer to Michael Joke.
“Billy, don’t you dare turn around.”
Michael Joke blurted it out.
“Why?”
“Just don’t.”
Billy Jean thought Michael Joke had gone off his rocker.
Why wouldn’t he let her look?
Was there something back there...
Damn!
Billy Jean locked eyes with the mummy sitting behind her.
She whipped her head back around, her face as white as a sheet, and gritted her teeth.
“Michael, you jerk!”
“Don’t diss my uncle, diss me.”
Billy Jean pinched his side in a fit of rage.
“You still got the nerve to crack jokes.”
“I told you not to turn around. You didn’t listen. Blame me?”
“Damn it! You shouldn’t have said a word. Anyone would’ve whipped around to look.”
“Uh... okay, my bad.”
“What now?” Billy Jean hissed.
“Chill. Maybe it just wants a free lift.”
“It ain’t sitting behind you. Easy for you to say.”
Billy Jean wished she could chomp Michael Joke to bits.
“Didn’t you just say you two were kind of alike?”
“...” Billy Jean’s mouth twitched.
“So you knew it was back there all along and didn’t say squat.”
That’s why he sprang the mummy question on her.
Turns out he’d seen it.
What a numbskull, Michael Joke.
“Come on, spill. What do we do?”
“I’ve never tangoed with a mummy before. No clue how tough it is. If it don’t move, we don’t. Let’s play it by ear.” Michael Joke said.
“Easy for you to say. It ain’t breathing down your neck.”
Billy Jean growled through clenched teeth.
Michael Joke: And so, the pink scooter hauling a human, a zombie, and a mummy kept on carving through the traffic.
Apart from the scooter’s “beep” now and then, it was dead quiet.
After about twenty minutes of crawling, they finally saw open road up ahead.
They were about to break free from the traffic jam.
Billy Jean could sense the mummy was still there, hadn’t budged, and hadn’t made a peep.
Just sitting tight.
“Michael, do something! It don’t look like it’s planning to scram.”
Michael Joke thought for a sec and waved his hand.
A military vehicle popped out of his space and pulled up front.
“Billy , when I say jump, you hop off the scooter and into the car. Got it?”
“Got it.” Billy Jean nodded.
As Michael Joke steered the scooter closer to the military ride, he yelled “Jump” under his breath.
Billy Jean didn’t hesitate.
She leaped off and dove into the military vehicle.
The second Billy Jean jumped, Michael Joke spun around and booted the mummy good.
The mummy went flying.
Michael Joke quickly stashed the scooter and hopped in the car.
He hit the gas and zoomed off.
The whole shebang took only a few seconds.
Billy Jean, riding shotgun, wiped the cold sweat from her brow.
“Thank goodness,that was a close one.”
“I need a blood bag to calm my nerves.”
Billy Jean turned her head.
“Ye Nan... Holy crap!!”
Billy Jean was face-to-face with the mummy again and plastered herself against the window in fright.
“Why... why is it here?”
Michael Joke was driving, his dark eyes like thunderclouds.
“I just saw it too.”
Billy Jean:!!
For a moment, the car was swallowed by an eerie silence again.
Michael Joke was in the driver’s seat, Billy Jean beside him.
And the mummy was parked smack dab in the middle of the console between them, like a creepy third wheel.
The three of them looked like a really messed-up family road trip.
Finally, Billy Jean couldn’t take it anymore and broke the silence.
“Roar... Hey, what the heck do you want?"
Billy Jean guessed it was male based on its flat chest.
It must’ve been a tall drink of water when it was alive, with long limbs.
It was like a walking skeleton, ribs poking through, arms and legs thinner than twigs, skin like old, cracked leather, lips shriveled up, teeth bared, eye sockets hollowed out, no peepers in sight.
Who knew if it could even see.
Its nose was rotten away, just a black hole left.
Anyway, it looked like a thousand-year-old horror movie mummy that just clawed its way out of the ground.
“Roar... Hey, say something, will you?"
Billy Jean wasn’t even sure if it could understand her zombie lingo.
Just when she was about to throw in the towel.
A red glow lit up in the mummy’s sunken eye sockets, and then words written in blood started to ooze onto the windshield. It was like a scene straight out of a nightmare.
Billy Jean rubbed the goosebumps on her arm.
“Damn it! Why so spooky? Are we filming a horror flick?”
Take me home.
Four gory, bloody words smeared on the glass.
“Take you home?”
The mummy nodded.
Billy Jean yanked the car door open, hauled the mummy out like it was a sack of potatoes, and chucked it.
“Goodbye. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”
Michael Joke:!!
Billy Jean slammed the door shut and clapped her hands.
“Done.”
But when she turned around, she was eyeball to eyeball with the mummy’s empty sockets again.
Oh my god!