This is just something cheesy I wrote for a few minutes entertainment. Hope you enjoy it. Oh, and I'd like to thank Lina Hansen and her book 'Cursed Times - What Now?' for part of the inspiration for this story (see http://www.wattpad.com/story/28196609-cursed-times-what-now ).
Nemach didn’t so much float as distill into existence, someone was coming, pulling the once minor official from his cursed slumber.
You will never have eternal rest, I curse you with your own progeny.
What did that mean? It had only taken a few years for him to realise. It meant that every time a descendent came near the statue in which his Ka was contained, he was disturbed from the peace of death. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he hadn’t been so damn fertile. Two wives and three concubines, some twenty children. Now his descendants were … well, everywhere.
“A pox upon you and your mother’s ass.” Nemech lashed out. But of course ‘ass’ had a different meaning now.
“Now, now, Nemach, old man. No need to be touchy. I’ve got news for you.”
“Ah, it is you Humphrey. Of all my descendants you are the least annoying. If I must be pulled from the land of darkness, then at least let it be for something worthwhile.”
“Once a copper, always a copper, hey old Nem.”
“Ever so, I followed the tenants and rule of justice given to us by the goddess Ma'at. It was through this that I came to serve the great Pharaoh, Thutmose , the third of his name. It was I who discovered the thefts and betrayals of the Nubian Prince, the one who cursed my Ka for eternity when I revealed his evil doing. If only I hadn’t taken the concubines as reward, my death would have been so much more peaceful.”
“Too late to worry about that, old boy.”
“Ah, but that Libyan concubine, she could do this thing with her thighs…”
“Yes, yes, all well and good. Hard to keep the old dog down, even in death, but your more gratuitous memories aside, I have an interesting proposition for you.”
“How so, Humphrey?”
“Well, old friend, I’ve tracked the Nazi infiltrator here to the studios. War with Europe isn’t far away, but the Germans are readying themselves with agents even here in the Burbank Studios. This one is particularly vicious - from what I’ve been able to find out, blackmail and murder are the least of it.”
“We have spoken of this particular evil before Humphrey, and were my suggestions of any use?”
“I’ll say, old boy. Your deductions are what got us to this point. The studio heads are of course on our side. We’ve narrowed the identity of the infiltrator down to someone involved with a movie now being filmed.”
“Ah, the moving pictures that you have spoken of? But what of the lady in black?”
“You were right about her, too.”
“So, she has been taken captive then.”
“I’m afraid not, she escaped before the cops arrived. She’s in hiding now, but she’ll be found eventually.”
“I’m not so sure Humphrey. Did she steal the plans for the new moving picture, the one being written in preparation for the war?”
“One of the scripts is missing, so we have to assume she’s taken it.”
“Well Humphrey, it seems plain that their aim will be to destroy this moving picture before it’s ever made. That’s what they’re here for now.”
Humphrey’s head bobbed up. “I believe you might be right, old boy.”
“Naturally, I’ve had thousands of years honing my skills with good descendants such as yourself. Though I may complain of being occasionally woken, I have transcended the ill effects of the curse by making myself of use to humanity. Such is the gift of the goddess Ma'at.”
“Yes, well I’m Episcopalian myself.”
“Without doubt their target will be the studios. That would be the easiest way to stop the making of the picture.”
“I believe you’ve cracked it again. But I’m ahead of you on how we find our culprit.”
“You’re ability to read minds will help. I’ve arranged for you to be…”
“You mean the vessel in which my Ka is contained, of course.” Nemach interrupted.
“…ah, yes, quite so. Anyway, I’ve arranged for your vessel to be used as a central prop in the movie. You’ll be right there with all the actors, and should be able to find who we’re after.”
“And tell me Humphrey, how does a figure of the God Horus become part of a moving picture?”
“Well old boy, as it happens, a black alabaster figure of a falcon works quite well in this particular movie. It’s called the Maltese Falcon.”
Many days later:
“Ah, the dreary watch continues. But what’s this? Humphrey! Awaken, our culprit is at hand!”
Gun at ready, Bogey leapt up from the couch on which he’d been snoozing. Filming had gone on for much of the day without any of the actors involved seeming to have a part in the studio conspiracy.
“You. It was you all along?” Bogey startled the old cleaning man who had begun to pour kerosene on the set’s carpet. But the man straightened himself to the height of a younger, stronger person, and tore away the fake lines of makeup that disguised his face.”
“Very good, Mr Bogart, you have indeed caught me by surprise. But if you think that prop gun of yours will be enough to stop me from burning the Burbank studios, you’re sadly mistaken.”
“I’m warning you, this is no prop gun. You Nazis seem to have gone to a lot of trouble. Burning the studio? Just to stop one movie?”
“Not just any movie, Mr Bogart. Casablanca. Just think what it would do, it could help mobilise the American people. We can’t have that, Mr Bogart. Propaganda is everything in war. After your initial defeats the American people will quickly collapse, but Casablanca might postpone the Fuehrer’s ultimate victory. That small problem will be stopped here.”
A shot rang out as the Nazi tried to spark his lighter, his eyes wide, he fell with a gaping hole in his chest.
“Not a prop after all...Rick.” His eyes glazed over. The studios were safe, Bogey and Nemach had triumphed again.