You hold the key in your hand. It shines under the floodlights of Shecky’s car lot, as you walk toward the cursed Camaro.

You never learned to drive, so getting behind the wheel would be dangerous, but maybe you can convince the car to drive itself away? Noticing the car is growling, perhaps in pain, you decide to pet the hood of the car. The Camaro pops its hood, then brings it down on you like a mouth, chomping at you!

You turn and run from the car, but after a short chase, the Camaro gobbles you whole, like Pac-Man swallowing a power pellet.

When you awaken, you find yourself inside an Egyptian tomb. There are cobwebs, torch lights, and stone walls with hieroglyphics etched in them. Resting at the base of a sarcophagus is a book written in both English and hieroglyphics. It’s a manual for driving cursed automobiles. On the first page it says, whatever you do, don’t pet the hood of a cursed car. Man, how were you supposed to know that? You’ve always been a staunch proponent of public transportation, cursed or otherwise.


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