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How I Escaped the Doomed Mummy Island by “Inner Hammer”

January 20, 2014 Leave a comment Go to comments

Small pizza magnate “Inner Hammer” recounts his horrifying ordeal in this exclusive story.

Right before we landed, I thought something seemed different. The Teets Island Chain are known for their brilliant, sandy beaches but as I looked down, I saw nothing but a mean, cracked airstrip and a grey, rocky shore. I meant to say something to the pilot but my mouth was full of mouth-watering, crisped chicken and I had also shoved part of a buttered biscuit in for added effect. It took me several minutes of chewing before I could speak.

Rare photograph of one of the mummy islands that surround the Teets chain.

Rare photograph of one of the mummy islands that surround the Teets chain.

But by then it was too late. The plane was in descent and the airstrip lay ahead. I noticed that there was no one about and a deep, ominous jungle lay ahead. There seemed to be no terminal– just a ragged swath of asphalt. The sky grew dark.

The plane landed. “Teets Island Chain, sir,” said the pilot. I knew then that he was an idiot. A staircase made of bamboo was wheeled to our door by a creature like nothing I had seen before. He was dead but undead. I ate some more crisped chicken.

The pilot consulted a hand-map (editor’s note: a very tiny, hand-sized card showing a very large area, popular in the Islands). I believe it was then that he realized his mistake.

The bamboo steps banged against the door. Within moments, the mummies were upon us.

The pilot and I escaped by using our wits, the bucket of chicken and some biscuits. The mummies had great interest in this and we were able to ferret them outside by using the viands as bait. But more mummies were pouring out of the great jungle. They were doomed men and women (white), who had been left here by some unspeakable evil.

One of the few known photographs of "Inner Hammer".

One of the few known photographs of “Inner Hammer”.

The pilot made every effort to escape but mummies were holding down the plane. Three times, he took off only to be brought down to earth by the mummies’ pull. The weight was simply too much. We had to lighten.

The pilot looked back at me. “You’ve got to get rid of that giant stuffed bear,” he said. Indeed, while in Lankville, I had purchased a unique item for my new island girlfriend. It was an enormous cuddly teddy bear, filled with four hundred pounds of heavy candies.

“Get rid of it. THROW IT OUT,” he said, his voice betraying deep urgency. “How about I throw you out! How about we let the cuddly bear stuffed with four hundred pounds of heavy candies fly the plane?”I yelled senselessly. It was absurd, I knew it. I was just buying time. I thought for a brief moment of all the coitus that I’d be missing by not presenting this bear. It would be a lot. From really good-looking Teets women. But what could I do?

So the bear went out. The mummies (now numbering hundreds) devoured him instantly. And the plane took off.

I had lost the bear and my chicken meal. But I had lost something more.

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