Free George Washington Zombie Slayer by David Wiles Page B

zombie stood chained helpless to the fencepost in George Washington’s rainy backyard, with Benjamin Franklin’s kite string tied securely to the zombie’s lifeless balls, the kite bobbing in the wind and flashing clouds.
    “What happens now ?” Washington asked loudly, yelling above the wind.
    “ Well, the metal key tied to the string near the kite ‘attracts’ the electricity,” Franklin explained. “So as the thundercloud passes by, lightning should strike the key with a powerful electrical voltage.”
    “I see,” Washington replied.
    “The rain-soaked string will act as a conductor,” Franklin continued, “channeling the electricity from the key through the string and down into the body of the creature through its John Thomas.”
    At just that moment, a power ful bolt of lightning flared across the sky and struck the key on Franklin’s kite with a tremendous shower of sparks.  A booming crack of thunder followed an overpowering flash of light which illuminated the kite, the string, the zombie and even the spectators in its blinding intensity.  Washington, Franklin and Mr. Kindly were all knocked to their asses on the wet grass, momentarily stunned by the electrical discharge.
    The three men stood up as tiny , smoking remnants of the exploded kite fluttered back to earth in the wind of the passing storm, the rain finally stopping. The fence post where the zombie had been chained was splintered and fully aflame, but the zombie was no longer attached to it. One severed, burning leg of the creature was ten feet to the right, the other smoking leg draped over the fence to the left. One of the creature’s severed, burning arms lay just in front of the three spectators, while the creature’s fiery, legless, one-armed torso was propped against a nearby tree.
                  “My God, said Franklin, looking at the smoking zombie torso. “It’s still alive!”
                  The zombie torso was almost entirely aflame, its testicular area now vaporized in testimony to the power of Franklin’s discovery and harnessing of electricity.  The creature’s hair was burned fully away and its flaming skull held only one functioning eye.  But even thus disabled, the creature began crawling forward, clacking its teeth together, using its one good arm to crawl towards the three observers, eager to feed upon them.
                  “Fuck me,” Washington said. “These things are truly tough cocksuckers to kill.”
                  Benjamin Franklin reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a small, loaded dueling pistol, wrapped in cloth to keep the powder dry. Franklin took careful aim at the zombie that crawled towards them, pointing the gun right at the zombie’s forehead. He squeezed the trigger and the ball shot from the barrel with a puff of smoke and shower of sparks.
                  The projectile hit the zombie in the center of its forehead, passing through the skull and into the creature’s brain. The creature made a growl, followed by a gurgle, and then fell silent and motionless into the wet grass. The three men were all a bit surprised that this single gunshot appeared to immobilize the creature.
                  “Well,” Franklin said to George Washington, “It appears that electricity did not harm the creature. But a shot to the head seems to do the trick nicely.”
                  A few hours later, Reebok climbed aboard his horse, Ballbuster, and Washington and Franklin handed him the leather pouch bearing their letters to leaders throughout the thirteen American colonies. They bid him safe journey and watched him ride off down the main road of the Mount Vernon estate.
    “I hope they all don’t think we’re crazy when they read those letters from us,” Benjamin Franklin said. “We are hittin’ them with some really unbelievable shit.”
    “Hey, if they don’t believe us,” Washington said. “Then fuck