mummy. That is why they had their mum-
mies guarded by demons and hid good.
Here is plain G. I. Horus. . . . He’s got
enough baraka to survive his first physical
death. He won’t get far. He’s got no mummy,
he’s got no names, he’s got nothing. What
happens to a bum like that, a nameless,
mummyless asshole? Why, demons will
swarm all over him at the first checkpoint.
He will be dismembered and thrown into a
flaming pit, where his soul will be utterly
consumed and destroyed forever. While oth-
ers, with sound mummies and the right
names to drop in the right places, sail
through to the Western Lands.
There are of course those who just barely
squeeze through. Their mummies are not in
a good sound condition. These second-class
souls are relegated to third-rate transient ho-
tels just beyond the last checkpoint, where
they can smell the charnel-house disposal
ovens from their skimpy balconies.