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 5^th Organic Battalion to its greatest defeat to that point in the Civil War.