It was picture day. Mom took us all to the park. The whole family, I mean. It was her, dad, both sets of grandparents, all 8 great-grandparents, my sister, my brother, his kid, and all our aunts and uncles and cousins and second cousins and third cousins and their dogs and cats and kindergarten teachers. There were 63,293 of us in all. And mom had us all wear the same thing: blue jeans and red shirts.

We all gathered under the shade of the mighty elm and then the photographer took the picture. She had to take 37 shots to get everyone in though. Aunt Marion didn't like the picture because she had her eyes closed. She asked if we could go back the next day to reshoot. Everyone else said they could, but not me. I had a volleyball game.

And I'm happy I had a volleyball game because the photographer, as it turned out, was an undead mummy. As soon as she took the picture, she ate everyone there. The mummy ate my Aunt Marion's fingers and lips. Blood shot everywhere. Then the photographer took her camera and made bean dip with it. She also used the corpses of my family to season the bean dip.

Anyway, the undead mummy photographer marketed the camera, dead people and camera bean dip to 7-Eleven stores everywhere. I bought some yesterday when I went in to get some Dr. Pepper. The bean dip tasted ok but it also tasted a little like my Uncle Herb's shorts.

Now the photographer mummy is on the loose. She was last spotted in Fort Lauderdale, where she was taking naked pictures of Lionel Richie at the Free the Dwarves monument. Lionel had smeared raspberry yogurt on his scrotum and the gophers were licking it off. I don't think Lionel liked it very much. Then the photographer ate him too and turned his mustache into gaspacho. Yum!!!!!!