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Marlene stood in front of her mirror. She was a pretty, thirty-five year old woman. She stood five feet seven inches tall and weighed about 150 pounds. She had shoulder-length sandy blonde hair, and was a slight pear shape, with measurements of 34C-29-40.

Marlene had always been a little bottom-heavy, even as a teenager, and this "problem" was becoming more and more prominent as she eased into her late thirties. She wasn't happy with the fact that she had put on weight in recent years, but she could deal with it.

"You sure this is the correct tomb?" My assistant, Georgia asks me. We both stand in front of a four hundred year old tomb to a Wakellium chieftain.

"The hieroglyphs here talk about Marmaren the great Wakellium chieftain." I point to my left, shifting my weight because of the pack of supplies on my back.

Staring at the skulls on pikes, Georgia is overcome with fear, "Maybe we shouldn't go in there, it could collapse on us or have deadly traps."

It was Halloween, my favorite time of the year. Where you get to scare the crap out of people for no reason, eat as much candy as you want, and you can dress as whoever you want. Well not this Halloween.