The Prickly Battle

chance we could have Bab Sharkey back instead?” piped up a cheeky Dog Mummy. The Unpharaoh Beard extended a thorny tendril and smacked his nose.
“Your weak boy is gone. I shall rule this city now,” she declared. “Yet it is not enough. I cannot stop thinking of all the people outside these walls. The ignorant rabble who have not yet acknowledged me as number one. I must be the best in all of Egypt. The best in the entire world. Cainus!”
“Yes, Your Bestness?” fawned the jackal.
“Throughout history, do you know what every emperor has had?”
“Um . . . a comfy pair of slippers with pom-poms on the toes? I’d certainly want those if I were an emperor.”
“An army,” she told him. “And today I command the most fearsome army the world has ever known. An army of Animal Mummies. Now . . . forward march!”

Bab was pacing back and forth in front of the Sharkey Shack.
“What if that wasn’t Prong and Scaler playing with the Beard box?” he asked. “It could have been anyone from the Mumphis world. It could have been Cainus!”
Prof Sharkey had driven off to Cairo for the day to pick up some fresh marshmallows (and a few less important groceries). So Bab was talking to the statue of his dad, the one that he and the Prof had put outside for some fresh air.
Not that the air was too fresh out here – the day was stifling and hot.
“How could I be so careless?” Bab went on. He grabbed his stone father by the shoulders. “Have I just told Cainus how to make another Pharaoh’s Beard?”
The statue stood silent. Bab’s dad had been permanently stuck in stone while in the middle of fixing his short shorts. He looked a bit ridiculous, but he was still Bab’s dad. Bab often talked to the statue, part of him hoping that his dad could hear him. That one day he might respond.
A fluffy sort of noise came from the desert.
Swish Swish flish.
Bab squinted at the shining dunes. A white ball of fluff was blowing through the air, zigzagging its way towards him.
Is that a bird? Bab wondered. Man, it’s a bad flyer. Hang on. That bird has no wings! I guess that explains the bad flying . . .
The fluffball flew closer. It sailed over the dig site fence and right up to Bab. Intrigued, he reached out to grab it but . . .
FwOOMF!
. . . a sudden gust of hot wind blew it straight into his face. It looked so soft, yet the force of the white tuft planting itself into Bab’s chin sent Bab hurtling backwards. He slammed into the Sharkey Shack wall.
“Whoa!” he cried, peering down at the tuft. “It can’t be. Is . . . is this what I think it is?”
It feels the same on my chin, he thought. But it doesn’t look much like the old Pharaoh’s Beard. It’s white! It looks more like stuffing that fell out of a cushion.
SshhhPUNG!
The white tuft shone like the Egyptian sun, blinding Bab. Two golden shen rings materialised around it. Unlike the original rings, though, these ones were soft and looked sort of . . .
Knitted? Bab thought. They look like tiny woollen scarves.
Bab screwed his eyes up as the blinding light faded. Then he sat bolt upright.
I know that smell!
It was the smell of parmesan cheese.
“DUDE!” bawled a voice.
“FLESH-BOY!” honked another voice.
It was them. Bab’s only friends. His best friends!
Bab’s heart hammered so wildly he thought it would leap out of his chest, like it did that time in the Underworld.
“Prong! Scaler!” Bab roared. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES! You did it, you brilliant brainless animals. I knew you’d figure it out! Well, I didn’t know. In fact, I had major doubts you could figure anything out ever, but . . . come here!”
The three friends wrapped each other in a smelly, slightly crunchy monster hug. Prong wept floods of happy tears, soaking Bab’s shirt.
“Man, am I glad to see you both,” Bab told them. “It felt like forever!”
His joy soon evaporated into the desert air. He felt swamped by a thousand worries. “How are things?” he asked. “Are you both okay? How are the other Animal Mummies?”
But before his mummy friends could respond, Bab looked up and saw for himself. Standing among the ancient dunes was Mumphis, city of the Animal Mummies. Only it wasn’t the mighty city he remembered – it was crumbling. Parts of the exterior walls had collapsed, buildings leaned dangerously sideways, and even the giant Pyramid had a large chunk missing from its tip.
Worst of all, black wisps of smoke drifted up from the city, as if parts of Mumphis were on fire.
“What happened to Mumphis?” Bab asked, his voice husky.
Scaler placed an ostrich talon on her friend’s shoulder. “It doesn’t look good, Pharaoh pal. Started to fall apart after you were gone.”
“Mumphis may have depended on the magic of the Pharaoh’s Beard to bind it together,” Bab guessed. “Mum destroyed it, by the way.”
“Your flesh-mum is a strange lady,” honked Prong.
“Mind you,” said Scaler, “from here Mumphis looks even more damaged than when we left to chase that cottonball. The smoke is definitely a new addition.”
“I think the smoke’s very pretty,” Prong replied. She placed a cold wing on Bab’s other shoulder. “Don’t worry, Bab, it’s not all gloom and doom. The city may be falling to bits, and the Animal Mummies might be turning on each other, but I have good news too.”
She turned to look Bab in the eye. “I’m a mummy!”
“Huh?” frowned Bab. “Prong, you’ve always been a mummy. At least, while I’ve known you.”
Scaler rolled her bulbous green eyes. “What our bird friend means to say is, she’s a mother. A Beardmother, if we’re being exact. We figured out your invisible charade so Prong grew that white fluffball that’s now on your chin. It’s Beardo, version two.”
“I’m so proud of my little fluffy-wuffy,”