The Men Are Against Me
General Geiger awoke with a start. As soon as the sun
flooded his eyes and burned them with the ferocity of a thousand laser beams,
he clamped them shut. As he lay on his cot in the command tent, he attempted to
figure out where he was and what series of events had led him there.
Ok, Dorman. Think. You’re a general in the Union Army. It’s May
13, 1864. Judging by the temperature and dryness of the air, I would guess that
I’m in Texas. God, I hate Texas. Austin’s nice. Dallas is OK. But dollars to
doughnuts I’m in some shit-kicker town named after some douchebag from the
Mexican-American War. Like “Gifford.” Or “Samuelsburg.” God, I hate Texas!
All Right…focus. There’s probably a battle scheduled for
today. Figures. This is the Civil fucking War. I can hear the men doing drills.
Those lazy motherfuckers. They never do anything unless I’m around to watch
them. They’re against me. I know they are! Every one of them is probably a spy
for the South. Maybe a mass execution would be better for today then a battle.
Shit. I really have to piss. Like, wicked bad. Should I get
up and go? Maybe I should get some more sleep. Fuck that. I’ll never be able to
sleep if I have to piss this bad. All right, Geiger. Let’s open the old eyes
and roll out –
Fuck! What was that! Somebody’s in the bed with me. Oh, God.
What did I do last night? Am I hung over? Do I have a headache? Am I nauseous?
OK. OK. Uh…right: imagine the taste of alcohol in your mouth. Imagine taking a
swig of whiskey –
Ughhh! Shit! Oh, God, I almost threw up! And my head is killing me! I’m hung over. Great. So who did I go to bed with last night? Oh,
please let it be a woman. Please please please please please God let it be a
woman! This is the 1860’s! The men will never understand my homosexual urgings!
They’re against me as it is! Shit! This is awful!
Fine. I’ll try to reconstruct the evening. I remember
dinner: Colonel Shartz and Major Struntz shared a wonderful dinner with me in
the officer’s mess tent last night. I brought mango dumplings with shaved lemon
zest and a duck comfit sauce. It was a huge success, and I totally earned their respect. Let’s see: we broke open the brandy afterwards as we
imagined ourselves as intellectual elites subjugating the barbarian hordes of
Swaziland. Then, Captain Prund came in with his guitar and we had a sick jam
session. I went to get my accordion –
Oh God. On my way to get my accordion, I ran into Lieutenant
Mkembe. His dark countenance has always inhabited my innermost fantasies! It
must be him that doth lie beside myself. I…hehehehe. “…doth lie beside myself?”
What am I, Byron? Who talks like that? Jesus Christ I’m hung over.
OK. I can’t open my eyes yet. But I have to know who this is
next to me before they see that I’m awake. I’ll…Oh, God. I’ll spoon with them
and see what happens. Yeah. That’s it…Here we go…
Thus was General Dorman Geiger, respected soldier,
husband, and resident of Maine devoured by a coyote who had snuck into his
tent. Upon his promotion to General, Abernathy Shartz led the 5th Organic Battalion to its greatest defeat to that point in the Civil War.
