The morning was warm, the sky was blue, cloudless, sunny -- and around the Black Pyramid the world slowly came back to life from its nightly slumber. In the main chamber Ma-Mutt pranced through the cover of dark shadows -- through the adorned columns that supported the arched roof, from where dying torches spewed eerie, gray smoke -- through the immortal statues of the ancient spirits of evil, whose glowing, red eyes scarcely broke the thin, electric mist -- through the stagnant pool of purple liquids, upon which floated disemboweled, sacrificial remains -- to the ajar portal of its master's sarcophagus. The dog jumped onto its hind legs, scratching at the engraved stone, wincing with stifling barks -- for it had something in its mouth.

From within the sarcophagus a red aura emanated -- along with a low, booming voice that rumbled the ground: "Who dares disturb the eternal rest of MUMM-RA, the --" he stopped. "Oh, it's only you, my pet." The lid creaked open the rest of the way by its own, unseen mechanics. A small, hunched figure crawled out, cloaked in a red shoal. "What is it now, Ma-Mutt?" He looked down at the horrid hound. "You're not hungry, are you?"

The dog circled once around his bandaged legs then it stopped before the mummy and dropped what ever it held in its jaw with a short bark.

"A newspaper?" He was puzzled at first. "I thought had I canceled that subscription."

Ma-Mutt barked.

"No?" Mumm-Ra knelt down over the thin pile of papers. "Well, what have we here, then?" He picked it up -- the cover sheet was coated with slobber and many of the pages were mushed together, unreadable. "Why, it's the latest script -- I didn't know we were filming today." He snapped his fingers and a ball of light materialized over his head, illuminating the ad hoc work. He thumbed through as much of it as he could. "It seems we're not in this episode, odd that it was delivered to us anyway. Are you sure there's not more to it?"

The dog barked and disappeared within the recesses of the pyramid.

"Hmmm. It's about the mutants. I wonder how the Thundercats defeat them this time? Hmmm. What does it matter, anyway?" He threw the script into the pool where it was quickly consumed by a bright, orange flame. The ball of light over his head whisked away and dissolved into the air from whence it came. "I'm awake, now, I might as well do something today." He looked around aided by the torches that had by his command re-lit themselves. "Ma-Mutt? Where is that devil dog? What is he up to?" He stepped away from the tomb to the reeking, littered altar -- scraps of fur and clumps of bloody carnage dotted its rough surface. "I should have cleaned that up last night -- Ma-Mutt!"

The dog reappeared with a stick in its mouth.

"Hahahahaha," Mumm-Ra quipped. "All right, all right, boy, if that's what you want, we'll go out and play."

Outside, next to a sparkling lake upon whose surface the tip of the Black Pyramid was reflected, Mumm-Ra paced impatiently near an old, rotting dock -- its mangled wood, painted red ages ago, by the action of the breeze slowly creaked and leaned into the calm, still waters. Ma-Mutt appeared with a large, leafy stick in its jaw. It dropped it before the mummy who then threw it into the thick trees nearby.

The dog went after it immediately but after a long, long time it did not return.

"Where is that dog?" he asked himself. "It's not like him to take this long."

He continued to pace over flattened leaves of grass for a minute or two. A long shadow was cast over the sprawling, rolling land -- he looked up to see that clouds had formed in the sky. He sighed and, resigned, he headed toward where he had thrown the stick.

To his shock and horror the most amazing thing began to happen -- first colors and then outlines of shapes began to fade, erased from existence and in its place evolved a scene out of the familiar Middle Ages. Even Mumm-Ra had been altered -- his red cloak was now green, his head was covered by a pointy, felt hat, his feet were adorned by curled shoes with bells at their tips.

"Ahhh!" he screamed when looked down upon himself. "I look like Robin Hood in this bone-headed outfit!" He held a long, wooden bar in his hands and in disgust he threw it away, toward a shimmering river that angled around a tall, distant castle -- it white stone walls were covered in flowered vines. "Ma-Mutt! Ma-Mutt!" he shouted. "My poor dog, he must be so traumatized."

Mumm-Ra walked away from the clearing to the forests -- but before he had walked a yard's length once again the scenery faded into a dull, off-white, featureless void.

"I guess I should have taken a closer look at that script." He noticed he was wearing his normal clothes again and, relieved, looked over the strange, new world around him.

From the nothingness new shapes formed: in the distance a conical jet of land grew out of a vast, blue sea. A faint, black smoke plumed through its jagged peaks and mingled with clouds that floated in the purple sky above. Mumm-Ra hovered precariously over the waters -- his dog was no where to be seen.

"A sea story? What, are the Beserkers in this episode? Ahhh!" Aware of his height over the ocean he fell into the foamy crests. He swam toward the island but the head-on view of the camera did not change and when he did at last reach the wave-beaten shores he appeared as nothing more than a small, red dot, oblivious and indistinct by the great expansive distance.

"A close up!" His voice was barely audible over his theme music. "A close up! A trained mutant could film this episode better!"

The camera began to zoom, steadily, over the winding miles, until Mumm-Ra's full figure was in view -- but the camera continued to inch closer until only his face could be seen -- his glowing, red eyes, his curled lips, the sharp, wet teeth exposed. In response he moved back and tottered over by the ocean, muttering to himself about his missing dog.

The waters washed up a gnarled stick that came to rest before his feet, he knelt down to pick it up and noticed that his bandages were soaked -- he noticed, too, that the stick was familiar.

"Of course it's familiar, it's the one me and Ma-Mutt were playing with before all hell broke loss."

If you say so.

He threw the stick back. "And dry me off, why don't you? Unless you want me to collapse into a pile of mush."

Fair enough: a strong, hot air, that bellowed down slope from the summit of the overlooking volcano, streamed toward the waters and dried Mumm-Ra's soggy bandages.

"A simple 'and then Mumm-Ra was dry again' would have sufficed."

Sorry.

"You're not RD, are you?"

No

"These elaborations -- come on! Enough of it already! Get to the point!"

A gigantic pink object swooped down from the sky and rubbed against the substance of the island. The volcano, the green jungles, the beach, the great oceans were consumed by it and, dissolved, only a light ash or dust remained behind. Even Mumm-Ra was affected by the erasure -- only his glaring eyes and angered grin remained.

"What's the big idea? What the hell's going on? Will who ever's in charge make up their mind already!"

A pointy, black object materialized around what remained of his features. It began to draw him again in a very weird and unusual way but he did not notice, he kept complaining: "In all the years I've had to suffer defeat upon defeat at the hands of those blasted Blundercats I've never had to deal with this --"

Although his face continued to be covered with bandages, little was left of his original design. He was now a four footed beast, covered in a light, striped fur that ranged in hue from a bright red to a deep purple. The hands and feet were green, the underbelly was yellow. The tail, too, was striped in red and black -- it stood perpendicular and tied around its tip was a white cloth upon which was imprinted the Thundercat insignia.

He kept talking and walking in the void that the world had become once more, unaware of his metamorphosis.

"I don't understand what your obsession is with this good always triumphing over evil. Where I come from it's intelligence that gets you up in the world, not some dumb sword that can do cheap, parlor tricks. Honestly --" he stopped. "I feel, different, I feel --"

A mirror was drawn before him and he looked in.

"WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE ANCIENT SPIRITS OF EVIL IS THIS!" He jumped up and down, bouncing on the trampoline-like ground that was largely imperceptible. "THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! AN OUTRAGE!"

Bolts of red lightning shot out from his eyes, his arms and hands waved violently in the air.

"When I find out who's responsible for this!"

The eraser came down again and soon all that was left were his eyes and teeth -- he dissolved like a Cheshire cat.

When he was redrawn everything was back to normal it seemed. Except -- he tried to speak but no sound came out. His lips moved but there was no voice. He was visibly annoyed and from his back he displayed a small, white sign, square in shape with black letters: "Sound, Please!" it read.

The note disappeared and from the distance there came a soft, airy echo.

He found he had a strange hat on his head and in his hands was a metallic guitar. Disturbed for a moment he wondered if Rankin and Bass had not confused him with a character from another of their shows. Curious, however, he plucked a string -- machine gun fire followed. Shocked and taken aback he tried again and that time the sounds of the bullets firing was far more violent and even the instrument shook uncontrollably in his hands. Angered, he threw the guitar on the ground where it shattered in syncopation to the calls of a donkey e-yawing. He stomped on it and it made a vulgar sputtering similar to that of a bottle of mustard backfiring.

Mumm-Ra looked into the foggy, reflective glass of the screen -- he opened his lips once more.

The babbling of a wilderness of monkey rang out of his throat.

His eyes widened in shock.

Again he tried to speak but that time his 'voice' was a lonely frog croaking.

Violent and agitated he stormed through the scene, tearing away at the fabric of its substance, ripping to shreds the pale, yellowish void. Red lightning and thunder flashed from his extended fingers, singeing and burning the scraps left behind. He cursed but only the sounds of jackhammers and planes taking-off followed. He screamed but only the soft sounds of a soothing stream followed.

"And you'll take that! And that! And that!" at last his voice had returned. "I'll teach you to mess with Mumm-Ra, the Ever-Living!"

He stopped -- he caught his breath.

"Better, so much better."

Ma-Mutt ran up to him, barking in tail-wagging excitement.

"Oh, Ma-Mutt! I was so worried!" He picked up the dog and clasped it in his arms. "I was so worried, my pet. I hope you weren't too scared." The dog winced.

Around them the world had returned to normal. They were by the edge of the lake next to the forests, out before them loomed the tip of the Black Pyramid. Lightning and thunder resonated from the darkening heavens.

"There's no place like home, Ma-Mutt." He let the dog drop to run to the pyramid. "Now, we have something to talk about, you and I -- we have something to discuss! I want to know -- I want to know --" he fell to his knees -- "I want to know who's responsible for this! This outrage, this torture. Who are you? I'm damned to know who you are! Show yourself!" He pounded on the wet grass with his fists. "I demand that you show yourself!"

Mumm-Ra fell to his side and looked up -- in shock and in horror for just then the clouds parted and a face was visible in the sky.

"No! No! It can't be true! It's impossible! -- I should have paid attention to who wrote the script. It's -- it's -- it's William Oerstead!"

"Ain't I a stinker?" that faraway voice boomed and echoed over Third Earth.