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    Canoe Cops vs. the Mummy
    Canoe Cops vs. the Mummy
    Canoe Cops vs. the Mummy
    Ebook187 pages2 hours

    Canoe Cops vs. the Mummy

    By Stephen D. Sullivan

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    About this ebook

    A new retro-horror-comedy from the author of MANOS: THE HANDS OF FATE -- Winner of the 2016 Scribe Award!

    An Egyptian mummy rises from the depths to wreak havoc upon the sleepy Wisconsin town of Phantom Lake. Now, only the bravest Canoe Cops, led by Lieutenant Richard Agar, and auxiliary Paddle Girl (and expert diver) Julie Browning stand between their city and the mummy’s deadly curse!

    “Canoe Cops vs. The Mummy reads like a lost Universal monster movie, and I’m very proud to have Mr. Sullivan playing around in my creative sandbox. Fans of my films and those who love classic monsters are in for a real treat, and I sincerely hope this is only the first of many Canoe Cops stories to come!”
    —Filmmaker, Mihmiverse Founder, and Canoe Cops Creator, Christopher R. Mihm

    Stephen D. Sullivan is the author of more than fifty books and has worked on countless comics and games. His past projects include Iron Man, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Dungeons & Dragons, and Star Wars. Steve’s adaptation of the cult classic Manos: The Hands of Fate won the prestigious Scribe Award for Best Adapted Novel, 2016.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStephen D. Sullivan
    Release dateDec 2, 2016
    ISBN9781370020881
    Canoe Cops vs. the Mummy
    Author

    Stephen D. Sullivan

    Stephen D. Sullivan has written more than 50 books across many genres: fantasy, SF, horror, detective, movie adaptations, and more. Readers the world over enjoy his fast-moving prose style and hard-hitting action sequences. He has won numerous awards for his work, including the 2016 Scribe Award for his horror-comedy novel, Manos: The Hands of Fate.Not sure where to start? Try these:NEW! Manos: Talons of FateBEST SELLER: Manos: The Hands of Fate (2016 Scribe Award Winner)HORROR & MONSTERS: Daikaiju AttackFANTASY: Tournament of Death novelsSCIENCE FICTION: Heart of Steam & RustADULT: Elf Erotica (Elf Princess on Mars)OVERVIEW: Martian Knights & Other TalesThere are plenty of others to choose from, too. (Including some books from other authors published by Steve's Company, Walkabout Publishing.)Browse! Buy! Enjoy!

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      Book preview

      Canoe Cops vs. the Mummy - Stephen D. Sullivan

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      FOREWORD by Christopher R. Mihm

      PRELUDE – Incident at the Wharf

      CHAPTER 1 – Incident on the Causeway

      CHAPTER 2 – Incident in the Lake

      CHAPTER 3 – Incident at the Lakeshore

      CHAPTER 4 – Incident in the Malt Shop

      CHAPTER 5 – Incident at the Waterfront

      CHAPTER 6 – Incident at the Boarding House

      CHAPTER 7 – Incident at the Diner

      CHAPTER 8 – Incident at the Crash Site

      CHAPTER 9 – Incident on the Pylons

      CHAPTER 10 – Incident at the Premiere

      CHAPTER 11 – Incident at Ankers’ Boarding House

      CHAPTER 12 – Incident on the Road

      CHAPTER 13 – Incident at the Exhibit

      CHAPTER 14 – Incident in the Woods

      CHAPTER 15 – Incident at Phantom Lake

      CHAPTER 16 – Incident Aboard Ship

      CHAPTER 17 – Incident in the Exhibit Hall

      CHAPTER 18 – Incident in the Tomb

      CHAPTER 19 – Final Incident Report

      THE MAKING OF CANOE COPS VS. THE MUMMY

      BONUS CHAPTER – Original Chapter 8

      BONUS STORY – The Haunted Canoe

      Special Preview of MANOS: THE HANDS OF FATE

      ABOUT THE AUTHOR

      FOREWORD

      by Christopher R. Mihm

      The story of the Canoe Cops began, innocuously enough, on a warm summer day in the late ’90s as Josh Craig (who went on to play the character of Professor Jackson in several of my films) and I quietly paddled Josh’s parents’ canoe down a back channel connecting a pair of lakes in Minneapolis. As we cleared a small foot bridge, we noticed a pair of Minneapolis Park Police officers in a small motorboat dispensing justice on a guy who clearly didn’t have a fishing license, but was pulling bottom feeders out of the water regardless.

      Randomly, I mused about how funny it’d be if the officers were instead forced to chase down criminals in a canoe. The image seemed so ridiculous, Josh and I had a good laugh and, creative types that we are, we started filling in the blanks on just the types of men who would be Canoe Cops. Thus, Sven and Gustav were born.

      Josh and I spent most of our free days that summer on those lakes. We expanded the Canoe Cop concept during every outing and couldn’t help laughing at the absurdity of it.

      Fast forward ten years to when I began writing the script for my first film, The Monster of Phantom Lake. The story fell easily into place and embedding the Canoe Cops into the narrative seemed only natural. I figured they’d not only ground the story firmly into the upper Midwest, the characters would provide some much needed comic relief in the script. Plus, I was very excited by the prospect of seeing them brought to life on the silver screen.

      Following the release of the film, Sven and Gustav quickly became fan favorites. Despite their deaths in the film, I decided they needed to return in the follow-up, It Came From Another World! The film was not as successful as its predecessor, but the Canoe Cops once again stole the show. Unfortunately, despite passionate enthusiasm for their cinematic return, the closest they’ve ever gotten was a faux title on a drive-in marquee seen in my eighth film, The Giant Spider. That title? Canoe Cops vs. The Mummy.

      Enter the amazing Stephen D. Sullivan and here we are! Mr. Sullivan not only took the Canoe Cops concept and ran with it, he has enriched it by incorporating several of my unused ideas (most notably the inclusion of Sven and Gustav’s obnoxious Danish rivals, Lars and Uli) and expanded it by introducing a slew of fun and unique characters, locations, and situations that fit perfectly into the greater universe of my films.

      Canoe Cops vs. The Mummy reads like the outline for a lost Universal monster movie, and I’m very proud to have someone of Mr. Sullivan’s considerable talent clearly having so much fun playing around in my creative sandbox. Fans of my films and those who love classic monsters are in for a real treat and I sincerely hope this is only the first of many Canoe Cops stories to come!

      Who knows? Should this prove popular enough, maybe the Canoe Cops will once again grace the silver screen in the near future!

      Enjoy!

      —Christopher R. Mihm

      Writer/director of the films of the Mihmiverse

      Wisconsin, USA, in the 1950s...

      Prelude

      THE INCIDENT AT THE WHARF

      a.k.a.

      The Missing Mummy

      LON TYLER – Warehouse Guard

      "This is unacceptable, Mr. Tyler! Unacceptable! This is not the mummy I was expecting! It is not the right mummy at all!"

      That’s what the old guy is sayin’ to me as he stands inside this very office and shakes his nasty lookin’ walkin’ stick in my face.

      Well, I guess he’s not really old, but he’s short, and dark, and has a little beard, and he’s wearin’ one of those round hats that Egyptian guys like—’cause I guess that’s where he’s from. His accent’s not too bad, though, and he’s dressed like some Upper East Side swell.

      Look, buddy, I say, don’t shake that dog-headed cane at me! It’s barely 8 AM, and this ain’t my fault! Do you want my help, or not?

      "It is not a dog, the gent tells me. It is Anubis, guardian god of the underworld."

      "Well, dog or god, shake that mutt at me one more time, and I’m gonna snap that stick like a toothpick! This ain’t no underworld; it’s Brooklyn, and we don’t get what we want here by bein’ rude to guys what’re tryin’ to help us out!"

      He backs off at that, and gives me a little bow, though his eyes are still burnin’ mad. I am terribly sorry, Mr. Tyler. I’m afraid my temper momentarily got the better of me. Please accept my humblest apologies.

      If that’s your way of sayin’ you’re sorry, I accept, I tell him. Now, what’s all this about your mother bein’ missin’?

      Not my mother, he says, "my mummy! The earthly remains of Princess Amunisis, the Fairest of the Fair. She was to be in the consignment shipped to this squalid dockside warehouse. Yet, when I arrived here to inspect my possessions, what did I find? The Eternal One missing, and in her place this miserable specimen fit only for duty as a guard dog!"

      Your mummy’s been replaced with a guard dog? I ask.

      "Not a literal dog you … my good man. The mummy Rahotep, a member of the royal guard put to death so that the princess should not go alone into the underworld."

      Jeeze, that’s rough, I say. Imagine bein’ capped if your boss bought it! That’s some kind of tough break.

      Indeed, though I doubt that the ancient Egyptians considered it so. To many of them, it would have been a form of high honor.

      Well, it’s an honor I’m glad we ain’t got nowadays, I tell him. "So, instead of your mummy, I guess you got a daddy, right?"

      I smile at him and laugh, but this Hawas guy... Did I mention that’s his name? Ardath Hawas. He said he was a doctor, or a professor, or somethin’ like that. Anyway, this Hawas guy doesn’t seem too amused.

      The important thing is, he says, nearly shakin’ his stick at me again before rememberin’ himself, that the princess be returned to me posthaste. I did not recover her from the sands of Egypt, and ship her and her funerary items to this country, only to lose her now!

      No, I suppose you didn’t, I reply, tryin’ to sound all sympathetic. "That shipment is in Warehouse Nine, though, right? Nobody’s come through there on my watch lately. But let me see what I can find…"

      So, I rifle through the warehouse office records—’cause, you know, I’m not just a guard, I gotta do stuff like that when the boss is out (which is most of the time)—and pretty soon, I turn up exactly what I’m lookin’ for.

      See here? I say, pointin’ at the lines in the register. "There’s only been one visit to that warehouse lately—a week ago."

      "A week…? he says, interruptin’. But I was still in Egypt then, arranging the final details of my visa..."

      I continue (ignorin’ him rudely cuttin’ me off). And it wasn’t me who checked it in. It was Ralph Norton—our night guy. Hey, that’s funny… The signature for who Ralphie let into the warehouse is missin’. We’re in luck, though; Ralph ain’t punched out from his shift, yet. We can ask him.

      So, I use the PA system to ring up Ralph, and in two shakes he comes through that very door in front of which you are now standin’, officer.

      Hey, Lonny, he says to me. What’s up?

      Mr. Hawas here seems to think that some of his property has gone missin’, I reply.

      Ralph crosses his arms over his chest, lookin’ real skeptical. (Ralphie don’t much like foreigners, y’see.) Oh, yeah? he says. What took it on the lam?

      Hawas looks annoyed, ’cause Ralph don’t seem to be takin’ this seriously. A very valuable artifact, Hawas says. The mummy of Princess Amunisis.

      "Oh, that wrinkly old dame? Ralph shoots back. She ain’t missin’. Her owner come an’ got her."

      What?! Hawas goes so red, I think he’s gonna burst a blood vessel.

      Sure, Ralph replies. He stopped by about a week ago. Had all the right papers. So he picked up the old gal an’ took her home.

      How come it don’t say that in the book here? I ask, tappin’ my finger on the line where the visitin’ person’s John Henry oughta be.

      Ralph shrugs. See, it’s like this: The guy what came by, he tipped me a Lincoln to maybe … fill out the form later. Somethin’ about avoidin’ unnecessary alimony or somethin’.

      "Something about larceny you mean! Hawas says, shakin’ ol’ Anubis at both of us. Who is this infidel that dares to kidnap the princess?!"

      This guy wasn’t inta infidelity, Ralph tells Hawas. I don’t think he was even married. In fact, he was a very respectable gent—Dr. Cecil Zucco, of the Minneapolis Museum of Antiquities. He showed me his ID papers and everythin’.

      Hawas is really cookin’ now. Veins are bulgin’ on his neck, and his face is nearly purple. "Zucco was not to take the princess! he fumes. Rahotep was to be his museum’s allotment from the two mummies recovered! Can you not tell the difference between a male mummy and a female one, you cretin?"

      With their wrappin’s on, they all look the same to me, doc, Ralph says, flashin’ me a wink.

      I can see that Hawas wants to hit Ralphie with ol’ dog-face-on-a-stick, but he doesn’t. The little guy gets points from me for holdin’ back.

      Instead, he just stares daggers at Ralph and says, Dr. Zucco has made a very grave error. A very grave error indeed. I shall send a truck around in the morning to collect the remainder of my possessions—such as they are. Please see to it that nothing more goes missing in the interim. He gives a little bow to me again, and turns to go, but Ralphie calls:

      Hey, is that nutty chick what’s been roamin’ around the place with you, too, doc?

      Hawas stops. Nutty … chick?

      Yeah, that chippie dressed up like she’s from Egypt or somethin’. I seen her wanderin’ around near Warehouse Nine last few nights. Couldn’t catch her, though. She’s one quick twist.

      Hawas looks puzzled for a moment, but then he smiles. "No. That … twist, as you call her, is not with me. Perhaps she is one of your … working-girl friends."

      Ralph scowls at him. "Not this dame. She’s real high class broad: tanned skin, made up to the nines, sportin’ this almost-nuthin’ dress that’d get you arrested if you wore it up in Boston… Looks… Egyptian, like someone you might hang with, pal."

      Maybe she’s a buff, I suggest.

      Ralphie laughs. She was nearly in the buff, all right!

      A … buff? Hawas asks.

      "You know, one of those people who takes too much of a fancy to somethin’—like those UFO contactees. Maybe she heard you had your Egyptian stuff stashed here, and she dropped by to give it a look-see."

      That seems highly unlikely, Hawas replies. Good day, gentlemen. And with nothin’ more than a nod, he leaves.

      Ralph leans on the office desk. "I don’t care what that mook said; he knows that dame."

      You think everybody knows every dame, I reply. "Why don’t you punch out, brother? We ain’t authorized for no overtime, you

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