The Animal took one final sip of tea and let it swish around in his mouth. He reluctantly swallowed it. He kicked away a Spaniard body so he could put his dishes into the small dishpan full of water that was in his trench. He’d wash them later if he got the chance.
He picked up his AS gun and clicked a drum of Executioners into it. He slowly climbed up the great mound of carcasses which had accumulated around and in his trench. He hopped down when he finally reached the top, and he was on level ground. A group of tanks stood in formation very close by.
“All right, I’m ready to fight!” he yelled out to the tanks.
The cupola of one of the tanks opened and a familiar face came out.
“Glad you’re ready,” said Jones, “The battle is over. We won.”
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