An Open Letter To The 36-Year-Old Who Destroyed The 29-Year-Old Millennial Who Ripped The 25-Year-Old Yelp Employee, From a 3,000 Year Old Mummy

Dear Sara Lynn Michener,

After reading your well-worded open letter detailing the wizened struggle you dealt with in your early 30s, which was apparently supposed to be a perfectly reasonable response to a younger woman’s perfectly reasonable demand that another younger woman’s perfectly reasonable request for a larger hourly rate be reconsidered in light of recent events, I felt it imperative to give you a taste of your own medicine because I am a 3,000-year-old cursed mummy. Spoiler: kicking a younger sister when she’s gleefully bashing in the light of kicking another younger sister when she’s down is perfectly fine and I have no opinion on the matter, but because I am a mummy my only real directive is to wreak havoc upon the youth with my ancient scarabs.

My name is Djedptahiufankh. I’m not much older than you. I will be turning the big 3–0–0–1 next year. It seems like 22 dynasties ago, but here I am, having survived my 30s long enough ago to put them in perspective. Despite our less-than-4,000 years difference in age, it seems we are worlds apart in virtually every aspect of our lives because I am a relic of the Bubastite Dynasty in the Third Intermediate Period. Those 3,000 years are incredibly important, but what do I care? I’m an ancient restless spirit. So I’m going to have to cast a malevolent curse on your crops, as well as those of Stefanie Williams and Talia Jane. Without crops, there will be no Yelp or Eat24. Problem solved.

You were an English major. You get it. You’ve seen The Mummy. Mortals are screwed six ways from Sunday (although the concept of “Sunday” is unfamiliar to me) because they are impervious to our vengeful destruction. I never dreamed of living out in the big city after having my tomb and dusty remains exhumed. Exhumation, too, is a privilege denied to many other mummies in unstable environments. But you all exhumed me with the sheer power of your internet fighting and now you’re stuck with me, puny humans. LOLZ.

If I’ve learned anything in the 3,000 extra years my body has been rolling around waiting to be discovered, it’s this: archeology is just archeology. Sometimes it pays off. Sometimes — overwhelmingly often — it results in a curse upon all of humanity.