If you’re like me and not up on your funeral accessory terminology then this definition might be of some help to you before reading this creepy tale and thus getting an unintentional, mood breaker moment like I did. I was like, “Why are mummies singing about having no beer?” They're spooky mummies too, and The Evil One of this story, with his hypno-eyes, melty teeth, and arthritic claws, reminds me of something Bill Everett would have unleashed upon us; but no, it’s another grand nightmare courtesy of my new fave Jon Blummer to help us wrap up March nicely.
From the Jan-Feb 1953 issue of Skeleton Hand #3
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