Written by Erich the Mad Bassist

Phantasmagoria Theme
This is a disclaimer. I have not copied anyone else’s disclaimer and make no claims to their work. My disclaimer is original, and… oops, I mean this story has some characters that are copies of originals that are like, the property of others and stuff, but I don’t intend harm to Rankin-Bass, Ted Turner, or Mumm-Ra (he owns the Thundercats, y’know.) I post this freely, and do promise to inflict Mutant Crabs on anyone that tries to make money from my hard work. So there!

Mumm-Ra paced around his cauldron and muttered to himself. “What have I been missing here? Surely I should have defeated those miserable Thundercats long ago. If it wasn’t for that accursed sword…”

He began to think about the past and their arrival. He slept peacefully before they invaded his planet. The Warrior Maidens, the Bolkins, the Wollows, and even the Berbils didn’t raise his ire. No, it was that blasted sword—the Eye of Thundera. He once thought it would restore his life permanently and give him great power, but that was not to be. The lousy thing couldn’t be used for evil. He wanted revenge, and that’s why he made the mistake of waking his masters.

He thought about the reason why he was awake now: it was the Ancient Spirits of Evil. They were the reason he wasn’t allowed to dream for very long—just long enough to replenish his energy so either the Thundercats or his masters could humiliate him. Mumm-Ra decided enough is enough. He began to pore over his ancient texts for a new spell to use: something that was based on minor magic that could be perverted with his power. He had ignored the minor spells for thousands of years because he had large ambitions, but perhaps something would show itself. At this point he would be happy if he made them all itch or something.

“Hmm. A sleeping spell. Let’s see… no, that won’t do. It’s only good for one night at a time.”

“Ah, the itch spell.” Mumm-Ra smiled as he remembered using it on his classmates many thousands of years ago. He shook his head. “Oh, it’s no use. Is the ever-living source of evil reduced to childhood pranks?” He looked up at the statues around his cauldron and frowned. Sighing, he went back into his book.

“Hmm. A fertility spell. That would be useful… if I were a Warrior Maiden. Hmm.” Mumm-Ra started thinking about a pest control spell he hadn’t given any thought to, except how to counteract it, which he found to be impossible. Wizz-Ra once used it to destroy a plague of Babylonian Crabs that Mumm-Ra introduced to his enemies’ ranks. He smiled at the memory of Wizz-Ra scratching himself vigorously as he chanted that spell. His subjects, his army, and Wizzy himself suffered for another month before the loathsome yet entertaining insects died out, much to his delight. It was a defeat in the end, but Mumm-Ra had all the laughs. He smiled and quickly leafed through the pages until he found it.

“Yes! We have it, Ma-Mutt! This is the answer, and the key to me enjoying my eternal rest once again!”

Ma-Mutt padded over to Mumm-Ra’s side and sniffed at the book.

“Oh yes, my ferocious fire-hydrant freshener. I have found the answer indeed. Eyahahahahahahaaaa! This spell will render an entire species infertile, and it’s very permanent. I should have thought of this before, but I wasn’t looking at the big picture—the long-term investment. Heh heh heh heh heh heh. Thunderians as a species in this universe are about to end!”

Ma-Mutt barked and ran around Mumm-Ra happily.

“Okay, here we go.” Mumm-Ra raised his hands and moved his lips while memorizing the words. He looked up at his masters.

“Ancient Spirits of Evil, grant your humble servant one wish—to modify this spell with your immense power to raise it above the world of the Arthropods, and into the realm of the mammals. Eyahahahahahaaaa! Then let me get some sleep, yes? The Thundercats will die out, and their teachings will be swept underneath the sands of time. Heh heh heh heh heh.”

The eyes of the statues glowed brightly, and the collective voices of the ancients spoke. “It is about time you used your head, Mumm-Ra. Consider it done. We need our rest too.”

Mumm-Ra frowned briefly at the insult, but was too elated to care. He raised his hands over the cauldron and started to speak. “Imhala imjak noru noru Thunderians heh heh heh nohalaimpetera!” Lightning flashed between his hands and the cauldron.


Later that week, Mumm-Ra awoke to see the results of his actions.

“Look, my pernicious pooch. Tygra is examining everyone. Heh heh heh. This is too good!” He listened to Tygra and Cheetara tearfully explaining to the others that they were the last of their kind, and Tygra swore he would find an answer in science since the Eye of Thundera was unable to help.

Mumm-Ra stretched and sighed blissfully. It seemed his long-awaited rest would finally be granted. Satisfied, the Ancient Spirits of Evil spoke again. “We will now sleep again. If you failed, it will be your responsibility to take care of them on your own. Oh yes, try not to look in any mirrors in the meantime.”

Mumm-Ra said, “What?” and felt a chill run through his body as the ancients winked out.

“Aaaah! I’m back to my old, er, older self.” He thought about it for a moment. No Ancient Spirits rudely waking him up, and he had limited use of their power, but he could take it as he pleased again. “Hmm, this is actually a good thing, Ma-Mutt. Even if the Thundercats somehow defeat my spell, I can ignore them and sleep anyway.” He felt a brief pang of fear and looked up at the now-sleeping statues. “Heh heh heh, old habit. I got used to you guys harrassing me. Heh heh heh. Ma-Mutt, we truly have our freedom now.”

Mumm-Ra transformed himself and he and Ma-Mutt enjoyed an unrestricted flight around Third Earth.

Just for fun, Mumm-Ra introduced a plague of a formidable variety of crab lice to the Thundercats. He watched Lion-o and the others scratching through his cauldron. “Have fun with your new pets, Lion-ho. Heh heh heh heh. It would seem that Plundarrian Crotch Crickets are rather fond of feline types, yes? Heh heh heh heh. This beats the hell out of that old itch spell.”

After a few minutes of laughing hysterically, Mumm-Ra became bored. “Come, Ma-Mutt. The Thundercats are properly fixed. Heh heh. Let’s enjoy a nice, long rest.”

Mumm-Ra stood in his sarcophagus while Ma-Mutt curled up at his feet. He smiled triumphantly as it closed, and had pleasant dreams of Thundercats scratching themselves and bathing in kerosene.


“Maybe this will do it.”

Mumm-Ra faded into consciousness as he heard the intruders talking in his pyramid.

“Yeah, check out these rooms back here.”

Mumm-Ra listened intently and thought to himself, “Hmm. It’s been one hundred forty years, so they’re all dead by now. I’ll scare these kids away and get back to sleep.”

“Cool, Tygra! This will be a killer place for a rave!”

Mumm-Ra’s breath hitched. Tygra? Did he just hear the name Tygra? No, it couldn’t be.

“Excellent, Bengali! I’ll work on the invites.”

“Whoa, dude, look at this!”

“Killer punchbowl, WilyKats.”

Mumm-Ra shook his head. He heard not one, but two WilyKats talking. “Okay, that’s it. I’m waking up right now!”

Mumm-Ra pinched himself. He realized he was awake, and his pyramid was filling up with unwanted visitors. He willed his sarcophagus to open. “Wherever evil exists, Mumm-Ra lives… ack!” Mumm-Ra was temporarily blinded by floodlights that someone installed in his pyramid.

“Whoa, he isn’t dead! Let’s get Lion-o!”

Mumm-Ra rubbed his eyes and looked again. He saw several versions of Tygra, Bengali, WilyKat, and Panthro, all different ages milling around his sacred chamber. He was furious! “Get out! All of you! Get out!” He fired red lightning into the air and blew out the floodlights for emphasis.

One of the Tygras screamed, “Let’s get out of here!” A teenage version of WilyKat said, “So much for the rave idea, Tygra.”

Mumm-Ra’s eyes glowed a bright red as he fished an empty beer bottle from his cauldron. “What in the seven hells is going on here?” He looked into his cauldron and saw the Cat’s Lair looking brand-new. “No, this cannot be!” He willed a closer view and saw many Thunderian children playing in the grass outside the lair. Looking inside, he saw many versions of every member of his hated enemies walking around. He finally found the leader, an older version of Lion-o that possessed the Sword of Omens. He saw the sword give a warning and observed this Lion-o calling for sight beyond sight. He focused his power on the sword and talked to the virtual intruder.

“How is it you live, Lion-o? I will put a stop to this!”

He heard Lion-o speak. “That’s Lion-o-Seven to you, pal, and I uphold the Code of Thundera as the original Lion-o did!”

Mumm-Ra’s eyes widened in horror. “Clones! You filthy cats cloned yourselves!”

“Damn right, you rotten mummy! We thought you were dead, but I guess the tales were wrong.”

“Dead? Dead? We’ll see who’s dead! Ancient Spirits of Evil… transform this decayed form… to Mumm-Ra, the Ever-Living!” Mumm-Ra flew out of his Pyramid at top speed and noticed something very wrong with the villages and towns on the way to Cat’s Lair. There were Thundercats everywhere! Several of the Warrior Maidens were bikini-clad versions of Cheetara, Pumyra, and WilyKit. The Wollows had Bengalis and Tygras living among them. He flew over the Bolkin village and noted with disgust that several of the citizens seemed too tall under their robes. He flew by Castle Plundarr and saw that it had been rebuilt and was populated by more Thundercat clones. Clones! Clones! Clones! They were everywhere!

Mumm-Ra covered his eyes to the horrors and plummeted to the ground. He landed with a crash, making a crater. He sighed, stood up, and floated above the ground while spinning around. He saw clones in every direction. “What did I do to deserve this hell?”

Mumm-Ra gasped as everything around him faded from view like a dream. He was now in his lesser form and standing before the Ancient Spirits of Evil in his pyramid. They spoke in an angry tone. “You came up with a bad plan and selfishly tried to create an excuse to sleep. We are very disappointed in you, Mumm-Ra.”

“M… masters?”

“Oh sure, you call us ‘masters’ now, but the moment we avert our attention, you try to subvert us. That spell would have forced the Thundercats to clone themselves and create the hellish world you just saw.”

“Please, have mercy upon your loyal servant.”

“Loyal, our stone asses. We will spare your life, however. There’s no one else that will do your job, and you’re not too shabby at it. Besides, you make us laugh.”

Mumm-Ra didn’t know if he should be grateful. “How so, oh great ones?”

“Crabs have long been a favorite tool amongst us evil-doers. Nature has a wicked sense of humor.”

Mumm-Ra started to laugh. “You know, you’re right. Shall I inflict them upon our enemies now?”

“Wait until the next time you battle them; they will make a fine distraction. Sleep, Mumm-Ra, for we shall wake you soon enough.”

Mumm-Ra grumbled as he walked back to his sarcophagus. He hated his existence, but at least he knew the ancient devil priests had a sense of humor, and maybe one day he would figure out a way to exploit it. He closed his sarcophagus and dreamed of the day he would create stone crabs to inflict on his “masters” and have them beg for mercy for a change.

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