George Washington Zombie Slayer

by Wiles, David

“Me?” Washington said. “I’m going to go get my wife back from these British cocksuckers!”

  Chapter 66

  Washington Goes to Rescue His Wife

  What had started out for George Washington as a marriage of convenience and economic opportunity had, over many years, grown into a union of genuine love and affection. He loved Martha Washington with all his heart, and he would make every effort to save his Snuggle- Muffin.

  George Washington was expected at the British Headquarters in Yorktown this evening to surrender his army, and himself, to that asshole Cornwallis. Washington planned to make his appearance, but in a very different way than Cornwallis might expect.

  Washington spent most of the morning scouting the British camp, their roads and bridges and fortifications, and observing the comings and goings of officers and soldiers. He quite rapidly identified a large stone clock tower near the center of Yorktown as just the type of phallic symbol that the insecure British General would choose as his own. The tower would also offer a good vantage point, as well as a secure location to hold a prisoner.

  After sunset, George Washington began the difficult mission to rescue his wife. Pulling his ninja hood over his face, Washington grabbed only his ninja sword, and the brown leather backpack that Benjamin Franklin had given him. It contained an invention that Washington thought might be of some use in his rescue operation.

  The black-clad Washington approached and scaled the British perimeter fence and began his entry into Yorktown by diving into a small drainage creek, swimming past the British sentries along the shore, and into a drain pipe that led to the heart of Yorktown.

  At several points, the British had placed one or two zombies to guard alleyways or doorways. These Washington dispatched with speed and silence. Onward he moved, approaching the tower with stealth and concealment. Climbing the trellis of one building, he climbed to the roof of the structure, and then hopped from rooftop to rooftop until he finally stood atop the building right next to the base of the clock tower. It was almost 9 pm.

  Washington now knew that his wife must be housed in the clock tower, for Cornwallis had chained the last of his remaining zombies in leg irons at the base of the structure. There were perhaps a hundred of the snarling, flesh-eaters being used here to defend against approach. Such a deployment must certainly indicate something within that needed to be carefully guarded.

  In the front of the British camp, the main gate was thrown open and a detachment of Cornwallis’ personal guard stood waiting by torchlight for Washington to formally arrive, expecting his military and personal surrender. They stood, and waited.

  Inside the stone clock tower, the clock had struck nine, and Cornwallis paced nervously back and forth beside his desk while the blue hooded man sat stoically in the corner of the room.

  “The hour is struck,” Cornwallis said nervously while eating a jelly donut. “Do you suppose he’s not coming?”

  “He said he would be here,” the blue hooded man replied.

  Cornwallis paced faster, and beads of sweat were noticeable on his forehead. Finally, after finishing his donut, he sat down at his desk at quarter past nine.

  “He doesn’t think I will kill her,” Cornwallis said. “He’s not coming.”

  “He said he would be here,” the hooded man said. “He said he would…be here.”

  The dawning realization hit the blue hooded man like a ton of bricks and he looked upward instinctively and sprang to his feet. Washington had never stated he would surrender himself. He said only that he would “present himself.”

  “What’s wrong?” the startled Cornwallis asked.

  “Send British guards! Upstairs!” the blue hooded man shouted. “Quickly, before he escapes!”

  “What do you mean?” Cornwallis asked.

  “If my guess is right,” the hooded man said, “Washington is already atop the tower now, rescuing his wife!” He ran from the room and into the stairwell to make the long ascent to the top of the tower where Mrs. Washington was held.

  “Kill her!” Cornwallis shouted after the blue-hooded man. “And if George Washington is there, kill both of them!”

  Several minutes earlier, Washington had thrown a rope from the rooftop where he stood up to the top of the tower next to him. With the rope secure, he gently swung to the side of the tower and over the heads of the zombies below. He quickly began climbing up the side of the clock tower and, with his ninja skill and training, he was at the top in under a minute.

  Washington stepped onto the balcony at the top of the tower, looked into the room and saw his wife Martha chained helplessly in the center of the room. Around her stood four zombies chained at equidistant points, meant to deter anyone from approaching her. Although they could not reach her, the close proximity of these creatures had clearly frightened her.

  Washington leapt into the room and stepped within striking distance of the first zombie. In his anger and urgency to rescue her, he did not even draw his sword. Punching the first zombie in its forehead, the incredible power of Washington’s blow shattered the creature’s skull. His next blow to the second zombie did the same, and the third zombie shared the same fate. The fourth hapless creature stood somewhat dazed at the General’s lightning speed. In a fluid motion, Washington grabbed the top and bottom of the zombie’s head with both hands and, twisting it clockwise, ripped the foul creatures head from its shoulders!

  “Georgie!” exclaimed Martha upon seeing her husband. “I knew you would come!”

  Washington kissed her and quickly removed the chains from her wrists. She hugged him the moment her hands were free. “They will try to stop us,” Washington said to his wife. “We must hurry!”

  George grabbed the corpses of the zombies he had just slain and dragged their bodies to the locked door and piled them there. Within seconds, George and Martha could hear pounding on the door as the British tried to force their way inside the newly blocked entrance.

  Washington pulled his wife to the balcony outside and opened the brown leather backpack that Benjamin Franklin had given him at their last meeting.

  “Howsoever shall we escape?” Martha Washington said breathlessly as she looked down over the balcony to see the mass of zombies standing at the bottom of the tower. The door to the room was almost smashed in, and the British soldiers would enter at any moment!

  Washington pulled a handle inside the backpack and the spring loaded mechanisms of the device sprang to life. The leather backpack seemed to stretch and unfold itself as the cogs and wheels of the invention clacked and whirred into their assigned positions. In a few seconds, a device shaped like a giant leather bat wing stood propped on the balcony.

  “Doctor Franklin called this a hang-glider,” Washington said as he grabbed Martha and placed her under the center of the wing. “He says it’s a device with which we can sail upon the wind!” George strapped Martha into the device and then wrapped his arms tightly around her. There was only one safety harness, as the glider was only meant for one person. Holding Martha tightly, they could feel the stiff evening breeze as Washington lifted them both to the edge of the balcony, and pointed the glider in the direction of the Continental Army, less than a mile away.

  “We’re going to FLY?” Martha asked excitedly. “Will it hold us?”

  “Let’s find out!” Washington said bravely, with a sparkle in his eye.

  “Fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck-fuck!” Martha Washington panted as her husband prepared to launch them off the edge of the balcony in the hang-glider.

  “Are you ready?” George asked her just as the British soldiers broke through the upper door. He didn’t wait for an answer and instead pushed the glider forward and off the edge of the balcony.

  “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!” Martha Washington screamed as the glider caught the wind and sent them both sailing into the evening sky.

  Chapter 67

  General Cornwallis And The Blue Hooded Man

  For the briefest of moments, George and Martha Washington were trul
y flying! The strong evening headwind had caught the underside of the hang-glider and held it aloft, much like a ship’s sail upon the open sea. George and Martha Washington were speechless, becoming the first Americans to actually fly.

  But in a few seconds, as the headwind slackened, the glider banked sharply to the left and began a downward spiral around the clock tower. The glider was simply not built to hold two people, and it was too heavy to remain airborne.

  “Oh, shit!” Martha Washington exclaimed. “We’re going to crash!”

  “No we’re not!” George replied. As they spiraled downward, just a few feet from the tower, George turned the glider sharply to the right, in the direction of the Continental Army, and he leapt from the glider. Martha screamed as the glider, now lightened, soared skyward once again.

  “You will be fine!” Washington hollered as he fell and his wife sailed off into the distance with panicked shrieks. “Just hold on tight!” he yelled.

  In freefall, Washington reached out desperately and grabbed the rope that he had originally used to climb the clock tower and swung to the midpoint of the structure, and hung there for a moment, now unsure what to do. There were a hundred zombies below him, as well as 20 newly arrived redcoats, with muskets pointed upward at him. If he climbed down, he must fight them all.

  He decided to climb back up to the balcony at the top of the tower to face the undoubtedly smaller force that would certainly be waiting there for him. Several Redcoats below fired a few shots at him as he ascended, missing him entirely.

  Washington climbed back onto the balcony as was greeted by three armed Redcoats with muskets pointed directly at him. Behind the two soldiers stood General Cornwallis and the blue-hooded man.

  “Drop your sword,” Cornwallis said angrily, “Or they will fire!”

  Washington did as he was told and dropped his sword upon the floor.

  “At last, we have you as our prisoner!” Cornwallis said gleefully. “Tie his hands,” Cornwallis said to the Redcoats. One guard tied Washington’s hands behind his back while the other two pointed their muskets at him. Once he was tied, the guards lowered their weapons.

  “Go downstairs,” the blue hooded man said to one of the soldiers. “Inform the Captain of the Guard that we have captured General Washington, and that he should make preparations for a public execution!” One guard left and went down the stairs, while two remained.

  “You swore to surrender your army, and yourself,” Cornwallis stated.

  “No, General,” Washington replied. “I stated I would return to the Continental Army and then I would appear here. I have done both.”

  “You lack honor, General,” Cornwallis huffed. “Using verbal technicalities.”

  “You break into my home like a thief, kidnap my wife and hold her as a hostage, for purposes of blackmail,” Washington replied angrily, “and you have balls to say I lack honor?” Washington laughed mockingly. “General Cornwallis, you truly are an ignorant shitbag.”

  “Vulgarity and duplicity,” Cornwallis taunted. “That’s what I expect from a Colonial.”

  “Vulgarity and Duplicity is sometimes required,” Washington replied, “in the face of a kidnapping and blackmailing British cocksucker!” Just then, with lightning speed, George Washington raised his two hands with the shreds of rope dangling from his wrists. He was holding a sharpened steel ninja throwing star in each hand, which he had hidden in his back pocket and had just now used to cut the ropes that bound him. And sadly for the British Redcoats, they had lowered their weapons.

  In an impossibly fast move, Washington threw two ninja stars forward, with one striking each redcoat in the neck, and both dropped dead to the floor. Washington leapt forward and did a perfect judo roll towards his sword, which he grabbed in a fluid motion and stopped on one knee, next to Cornwallis, who Washington punched forcefully in the groin. Cornwallis fell breathless to the floor, holding his crotch.

  The Blue hooded man drew his sword just as Washington pulled the boot and sock off one of the dead Redcoats, and stuffed the sock into Cornwallis’ mouth.

  “Shhhhhh,” Washington teased the fallen General. “Put a sock in it,” he added, unable to resist the pun. The dazed and crotchfallen Cornwallis could only lie on the floor, writhing in pain.

  Washington stood now with sword drawn directly across from the blue hooded man.

  “You and I have unfinished business,” Washington said, pointing his sword at the man.

  “Indeed we do,” the blue hooded man replied, removing his own blue jacket and then pointing his sword angrily at Washington. “Only one of us shall leave this tower alive.”

  “That suits me just fine,” Washington replied.

  Chapter 68

  Reebock is Captured By The British

  As Washington fought for his life against the blue-hooded man, Reebock slowly led a convoy of three wagons along the Old Mill Road, just past the American lines, along the eastern edge of Yorktown. He was so close to the British position that he could hear the soldiers in their trenches discussing tea and croquet.

  These wagons had come to the Continental Army just hours after Washington had arrived at Yorktown. They were fully loaded and provisioned at Mount Vernon, per Washington’s message and instructions to his slaves, and driven to Yorktown by slaves LL Cool, Denzel and Beyonce. On this night, Reebock and Beyonce shared the lead wagon, with the two other wagons trailing behind.

  “Are you nervous?” Reebock asked Beyonce.

  “Yes, I am,” she admitted. “At Mount Vernon, I’m usually limited to various domestic and household duties. But these tactics of military strategy and subterfuge are well beyond the scope of my normal daily experience.”

  “It will be OK,” Reebock said. “Just remember to stick to the plan as we discussed.”

  For a moment, they considered aborting the mission as they suddenly observed Franklin’s giant hang-glider sailing overhead, bearing the frantic Martha Washington, who was screaming obscenities as she flew past. But they watched the glider sail well into the lines of the Continental Army and gently touch down within the camp, delivering her safely.

  At that moment, from up ahead, a handful of British sentries jumped out into the road, with muskets pointed at the lead wagon. All three wagons came to an abrupt stop.

  “What’s all this then?” the Redcoat in charge asked, stepping forward with musket levelled at Reebock and Beyonce.

  “Oh-Lord Jeezus Christ!” Beyonce screamed. “You done scared us jumpin outta da road like dat! Is dis here the army of Gen’l Washington?” Beyonce asked, as the British soldiers laughed. “We has us a delivery of supplies for da army.”

  “Blimey,” the chief Redcoat said to the soldier next to him. “These bloody wankers fancied an evening delivery of bits n bobs and got themselves a tad all turned about.”

  Reebock leaned close to Beyonce and whispered in her ear: “I thought the General said they spoke English?”

  The British surrounded all three wagons and made all the drivers step down and assemble together. More and more redcoats soon gathered about, soon numbering near a hundred.

  “You tossers are in a shambles now,” the Redcoat explained to Beyonce. “You done found the British army, luv!” he added, as the British soldiers all laughed again.

  “I TOLD you we shoulda taken dat OTHER road!” Reebock yelled at Beyonce as he looked pleadingly at the British. “Never trust a woman driver!” Reebock added, generating additional British laughter. Reebock and the other slaves were all escorted to a holding area, shackled and left alone.

  “Do you think they believed us?” Beyonce asked.

  “I think we’re good,” Reebock replied.

  Back at the wagons, the wary British, suspecting some type of trap, cautiously approached the vehicles, muskets at the ready. But as the wagons were opened, the nervous, cautious frowns of the Redcoat soldiers were soon replaced my bright, joyous smiles of newfound happiness.

  For the wagons were stuffed with barrel af
ter barrel of Mount Vernon’s finest whiskey, and crate after crate of the plantations finest weed, rolled into giant blunts and ready for smoking! All three wagons were nearly filled to bursting with marijuana and whiskey! It was like a scene from a Redcoat’s happiest dream!

  “Oh shag me in the morning and call me Sally!” the chief Redcoat exclaimed! “This is the happiest day of me whole fuckin’ life!”

  The scene was one of song and jubilation as hundreds of British soldiers flocked to the captured wagons to partake in the captured bounty. The casks of whiskey were quickly tapped and ale mugs appeared as if by magic. The joints and blunts were also quickly dispersed to the eager masses of Redcoats who fired them up almost instantly.

  Those Redcoats still manning the trenches who remained on duty were not neglected, as their brothers-in-arms quickly passed them flagons of whiskey and bags of weed in ample quantities to sustain them through the evening. Many a hearty whiskey was drunk and many a blunt was smoked that night as the jubilant Redcoats partied all throughout the evening.

  The hours wore on and as the drinking and smoking continued well past midnight. The Americans could hear the hearty British drinking songs being sung, and smell the distinct aroma of marijuana wafting across the redoubts. It did not take long before the entire British army was both drunk and stoned, much to their own delight. Even the British officers, long deprived of any substantial comforts, enjoyed ample samplings of whiskey and weed.

  By the thousands the British partied, very nearly to dawn, until the ample supply of booze and reefer was finally, fully consumed. But there was no sadness. Each and every man had enjoyed his fill, and more again. And after many hours, shitfaced and laconic, the Redcoats bedded down to a well-earned rest. They slumbered peacefully did the British, mellow and relaxed as only stoned inebriates can be.

  In the small cabin where Reebock was being held with Washington’s slaves near the front lines, Reebock picked the locks on the shackles that held them, as Washington had shown him, and the lock on the door of the room where they were imprisoned.