"Awaken!" boomed the ethereal sensation.

The boy-king was rudely dragged into consciousness by the demanding sensation emanating around the burial chamber.
He heard no sound, he felt its presence.

"Servants!" he ordered. No sound came from his throat as he raised himself onto his bony elbows, fighting free from the crumbling wreckage around the sarcophagus. "Servants! Where are my servants?"

"Password?" required the demanding ethereal entity.

He had no vision. He had no hearing. No sound came from his mouth. His mother had told him many times in his childhood that, in the afterlife, he need do nothing but wish to have his every whim catered for - it appeared that mother was right!

"Username and Password?" demanded the entity again.

"My name is Tutankhamun. Tutankhamun. Where are my servants?"

"Welcome to the Afterweb, Mr Tankaman, continued the entity. "To access the services of this organisation you must sign in or register.
Please enter the following code to the system. Your unique code is: M E R I T A T E N. Please note that all entries must be in standard hieroglyphics, please enter the code using a compatible tablet."

"Tablet? Tablet? Ah yes, I have tablets somewhere here," communicated the boy-king excitedly. "Just let me find them."
Disentangling himself from his mummification bindings, he groped, his aching bones complaining, in the darkness through the age-worn detritus, to rifle amongst what worthless antiquities had been discarded by the long departed tomb-robbers.

"Please enter your details," repeated the entity.

"Yes,Yes, just wait. I did not pack these items," he responded helplessly. Servants, where are my servants?"

"If you are not sure of the details, please enter forgotten password," insisted the entity.

"Wait, Wait, I have my tablets, I have," he counted slowly' "three hundred and seven of them. Which one do you want?"

"Please use the tablet that was originally used to register you to our system."

In a fit of pique, the boy-king threw a number of the inscribed sandstone tablets the floor of the burial chamber where the three-thousand four-hundred year old artefacts shattered as glass. "My servants arranged all of the details and requirements for my journey to the afterweb," he raged. "I demand respect, now."

"Password and username, please?" repeated the entity.

"I do not have I password and username!" raged the boy-king. "I am a pharaoh, a god. My name is Tutankhamun!" "You cannot have access to the afterweb without registration," repeated the entity boringly. Please register?"

"My name is Tutankhamun. I am a member of the ruling dynasty of Upper Egypt and I have earned and demand entry to the afterweb." As a king I am entitled to, and demand, all the honours due to those of my family!"

"The username: Tankaman is unavailable, please choose another name."

"This service is about to time out - please press any key to continue."

"I do not have a key. I do not need a key." The boy-king raged. "I demand access to the afterweb.
It is my right to travel onward into Paradise as a revered king of Upper Egypt!"

"We are sorry, that service is no longer available - have a nice day."

[THE END]

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