We picked through the rubble of the destroyed Wal-Mart, finding no survivors, just melted clothes, electronics and household goods. Thankfully, it was early in the morning, and the seniors hadn’t shown up for the free coffee, and most of the employees had heard the commotion and ran for cover next door at Lowe’s.
“A mighty struggle here, there was.”
“What?”, I hadn’t noticed the small green guy with the cane, or his tall bearded friend.
“Son, you’ve served your country well, but in four score and twenty minutes, there’s going to be another round of whoop-ass, and I bet you’d rather be far, far away from here. Gather the laborers from the establishment next door, and beat a hasty retreat.”
“A tremor in the force I feel.” The little green guy with the bad hair scampered over the still-smoldering wreckage of low cost melted plastic. “Mr. President, alive this one still is!”
“Mr. President? Holy cow, man, you’re Lincoln!”
“Almost, son, almost. Now, collect your people and depart – battle is coming.”