Close one, but unwrapping it is. Which prompts me to bring something up real quick, though I'll spoiler it in case anyone would rather hold off -
{Spoiler}If you'd gone back to the hotel, either way you go from that point has a happy ending.
You need to get these bandages off! And you have to hurry. That guard is going to wake up any second.
Frantically, you claw at the bandages around your neck. Around and around you go. Unwrapping one piece at a time. Some bandages are long, flimsy pieces. Others are short little scraps of cloth. As each one comes loose, you let it drop on the marble floor at your feet.
Finally you reach the last layer of bandages. Slowly, you peel away the thin cloth that covers your skin.
Skin?
No. That's not skin under there. That's ancient, mummified flesh!
It's as hard as football leather. As brown as beef jerky. As wrinkled as a sixty-year-old prune!
You whirl around and come face-to-face with your own image in the mirrored elevator doors.
Nooooooo! Unwrapping the bandages didn't work! You're still a mummy.
Your screams are so loud, they awaken the sleeping guard. The one who's been snoring at his desk until now.
Startled, he whips around and lumbers to where you're standing.
"Yeowww-sa!" the guard cries out. "What the --?"
The guard is a pot-bellied guy with red veins on his nose.
Instantly, he reaches toward the side of his belt, to the place where a holster would be.
No, you think. Please don't shoot me. I don't want to die!
You start to duck. But he pulls out a walkie-talkie instead of a gun. He pushes the button and speaks into it.
"George? Come quick! We've got trouble!" the guard shouts.
Then he moves toward you. He looks kind of scared. He raises his fist.
"No wait!" you try to say. "I'm just a kid!"
Your lips form the words but your voice doesn't work. No sound comes out.
You can't talk!
The other guard, the one named George, runs through the marble lobby and lunges at you from behind. His arms encircle you. At the same time, the first guard grabs your legs.
No! you try to scream again. But iun the last few moments, your transformation into a mummy has become complete. Your vocal chords have harded into dry sticks. They won't move.
Suddenly the terrible truth hits you.
To all the world, you are a mummy. Not a kid.
You are a living mummy, a freak of nature, something to be feared. . . and destroyed.
You struggle against the guards, flailing your legs wildly. You kick your dry, brown legs at George's shins. Desperate to escape, you twist your small, leathery body, hoping to slip free.
But you're no match for the guards. They are swift and powerful.
They lift you off the floor, carry you toward the mummy's sarcophagus -- and stuff you inside!
George holds you down while the other guard closes the sarcophagus lid. Tight.
Help! you want to scream as the darkness closes in on you.
Then you're thrown against the side of the sarcophagus.
The guards have lifted you up onto their shoulders and are carrying you somewhere!
At first, you bang on the sarcophagus lid with both fits.
Let me out! you silently scream.
Then you lie very still and listen.
From the guards' muffled conversation, you figure out what's happening. They are carrying the wooden mummy case to a car and loading it into the trunk.
"Now what?" George asks the other guard.
"Now we take him back to the museum," the other guy replies.
"No way!" you hear George exclaim. "Are you kidding? We've got a living mummy here! We could make a fortune!"
From inside the sarcophagus, you hear the other guy mumble something. George answers back. It sounds like they're arguing. You hear George exclaim, "Okay, we'll flip a coin for it! Heads, you win. Tails, we do what I say."
Uh-oh. Your life depends on the flip of a coin!
Flip a coin. If it comes up heads, turn to PAGE 67.
If it's tails, turn to PAGE 17.Walkie-talkie instead of a gun? What is this, ET?
Anyway, rather than just choosing here, everybody flip coins and let your result be known.