The Invisible Mummy dragged his bandaged feet across miles of bleak desert before finally sighting a place to assuage his raging hunger: a vulnerable, isolated Del Taco.
The Invisible Mummy grunted in dry, thirst-roughened satisfaction. At the lonesome taco outlet, he would satisfy both his cravings for food and creating mayhem at poorly guarded places of business.
He slammed into the glass door with a force intending to shock, a force to make the diners stare up in bafflement.
But the diners continued munching their bland burritos, oblivious. A large woman overflowing a faded, sleeveless top yelled at two boys fighting over a taco-shaped desert item. A wizened-faced elderly man nibbled heedlessly on a tortilla. Two tattooed construction workers industriously shoved massive macho burritos in their faces, chomp after uninterrupted chomp.
The Invisible Mummy glared at them in disappointment. No matter. First he would vanquish his hunger, then cause further terror in the dining room.
He staggered through the employee door into the kitchen area, dizzy with heat. A tower of carefully stacked taco shells drew his attention. He shoveled them toward his mouth and crunched, the shells appearing to be pulverized in mid-air by an unseen tool of gluttony.
A Del Taco worker in a garish uniform stared at the phenomenon of the disappearing shells. “Hey, Juan,” he shouted, “they get some new vacuum or something?”
“What are you yammering about, Raul?”
“Some new vacuum or something to suck up old taco shells.”
“This is no vacuum before you, ignorant one,” said the Invisible Mummy. “You are witnessing the power of the Invisible Mummy!” The Invisible Mummy dipped an invisible bandaged hand into a vat of seasoned bean mixture and brought it up to his mouth, slavering at the goopy mass.
“Hah. Invisible what? That’s a good one, Rinaldo,” Raul yelled to the back where he imagined a heavyset co-worker was engineering some prank, then went back to rolling chicken and cheese bits into soft tortillas. “What, you got some kind of see-through scoop or something?”
“This is not the doing of any Rinaldo, you miserable moron,” roared the angered mummy, who did not take well to others receiving credit for his machinations. “This is the Invisible Mummy, wreaking havoc on your pathetic kitchen.” The Invisible Mummy took a container of shredded lettuce, munched a few strands, then dumped the rest in disgust onto the kitchen floor.
“What gives, Rinaldo! I've had it with your dumb pranks! What, you got fishing line tied to the lettuce bin or some shit?”
“There is no fishing line! My arms move through any place the line would be! Watch and quail!” The Invisible Mummy swung his arms wildly to demonstrate the absence of fishing line, but since his arms were invisible, the demonstration didn’t have the desired effect. “The Invisible Mummy declares vengeance on you for disbelief.” The Invisible Mummy reached into a vat of curdling nacho cheese mixture and flung it wildly in all directions, including onto Raul’s bewildered face. “I will damage the burritos in this establishment as burritos have never been damaged before.”
Raul backed up, bewildered at the array of ingredients flying in all directions in front of him. “We don’t have no burritos to smash up, homes. We make everything on order. Fresh.”
“Then make some quickly so I can wreak destruction.” The Invisible Mummy’s hunger was still not satiated and his desire for burritos to smash was mixed up inextricably with his equally strong desire to ingest at least several of them.
“What the hell’s going on back there?” A road crew worker was at the front counter and had just finished ordering the Street Tacos Plato. “You got a show? Some new promotion?”
Rinaldo shrugged, wiping his forehead. “I think the crew got bored, started throwing cheese and shit. They’re pretending there’s an invisible mummy.”
“Shit, Invisible Mummy. That’s gotta be a new promotion.”
“I don’t think so, boss. Just a crew with a weird sense of humor.”
“I can see the ads, now. ‘Who took my burrito? It must be the Invisible Mummy!’” The road crew worker laughed heartily.
“Destruction to your ignorance!” roared the Invisible Mummy. “Do you call this a promotion?” He’d stuffed two Steak and Guac burritos in his mouth and now hurled a third at the road crew worker. The worker ducked but still sustained a huge smear of cheese and guacamole on his face.
The Invisible Mummy rushed to leap over the counter, but, too weak and dazed, he smacked into it and slumped over halfway. Then he scrambled up and crawled across the countertop, reaching out and grabbing onto the worker’s fluorescent orange vest.
“What the hell!” yelled the worker.
“No, nothing from Hell. You are besieged by a cursed mummy from the fogs of prehistoric Chile. Now you will feel my vengeance.” The Invisible Mummy took some torn burrito wrappers in his hand and shoved them into the worker’s mouth, then he ripped the worker’s vest off and moved to tie it around his eyes, but the road crew worker fended him off, pushing the mummy roughly into the condiment bar.
“Get the hell off me! This promotion’s out of hand!” The road crew worker backed up, keeping his distance from the seemingly airborne orange vest.
“You believe me now?” asked Raul, coming to the counter. “This mummy thing’s out of control. I’m calling Felicia.”
“I have only begun to wreak vengeance!” roared the Invisible Mummy. He grabbed a huge pile of hot sauce packets and threw them at the dining area, then lifted a giant canister of ice tea and lobbed it with mummy-strength at the register area, missing the workers, but hitting the menu display board.
Dozens of the hot sauce packets had flown at the burly construction workers. Having finished their macho burritos, they marched angrily toward the mummy. “What’s the problem up here?” one roared.
“You have witnessed the wrath of the Invisible Mummy,” the mummy grumbled, tripping on a small pile of hot sauce packets and squirting red sauce in several directions. “Having inspired quivering terror, I will now return to the open road, spreading my vengeance in new directions.”
The small cluster of diners and clerks watched as footprints, outlined by droplets of hot sauce, marked the way to the exit as the Invisible Mummy departed.
“Shit,” said one of the construction workers, “I told you we shoulda gone to Taco Bell.”