Please, pleads the Command Sergeant Major! 2

“You my two new felle’as’?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Well,” said Andrew Jackson, “party on the White House lawn.”

“I am so hard.”

“I am going to beat the biggest, blackest guy I can find.”

Tyler ran off, Jayson savored the moment. Both in suit and tails, one discreetly out.

“Oh, Lord no,” a voice drawled in alarm, “that’s my best one for the house. No mandingo!”

“Slaveholding motherfucker!”

Tyler took the, admittedly innocent, bewildered man to the ground and after a brief hold, rolled off and was up. Then besting the slaveholder into a coma which he never awoke from, three score later.

“How do we indicate the passage of time?”


“Jayson, if I break and run,” said the President clandestine preparing for a super-illegal duel, “I’d like it if you’d run me down with a carriage.”

“It would be an honor.”

“Damn right!”


“Sorry, Mr. Jackson. President. But the bank nullified this check.”

“What did you say to me?”

“You’re credit is always good.”

“Boys! Get my stick.”

“You fucked up now!”

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