Monday, March 18, 2002
Lincoln sat at the end of the large banquet table of Napoleon’s. It’s a shame, he thought quietly, I could feed every hungry slave in the Union for the price of this fancy French table.

“You are quiet, Monsieur Lincoln,” said Napoleon, his eyes barely peeking above the other end of the table. “Henri!” he shouted to his butler with a clap of his hands. “Fetch the phone books for my seat!”

“You need not do that, Henri,” Lincoln said in his heavy, somber voice. “I won’t be staying for dinner.”

“I sense you do not like me very much, Monsieur Lincoln,” said Napoleon, and he was right. Lincoln had only come for one thing—military expertise. Perhaps there was something he could find out from Napoleon, some secret to his success that would help end the Civil War without more casualties.

“It’s nothing personal, Mr. Napoleon. My feelings are of no consequence, even if they’re right. I’m not here to make friends. I’m only here because perhaps there’s something I can find out from you, a secret to your success that will help end the Civil War in America without more casualties.”

“Maybe I can help you, in some way,” said Napoleon. “Tell me more of this fantastic time machine, Monsieur Lincoln.”

“Perhaps later,” said Lincoln.

“Now!” demanded the short bastard. “I must know! I must have this secret to time travel! If it is in my hands I can conquer more than Europe, bon homme. I can conquer the Roman Empire itself!”

“You would misuse the technology, I’m afraid,” said Lincoln. “Napoleon, Napoleon, Napoleon—don’t you know no matter how many men you dominate you will never be tall?”

“Shut up!” screeched Napoleon, smashing away all the silverware in front of him. “You think you know what it means to be short? Bah! How tall are you? 6’9”?”

“I am a tall man, Mr. Napoleon. I am the tallest president the Union has ever seen, and perhaps ever will see. I was born in Kentucky as well. But my strength comes not from the stature of my body, but the height of my heart.”

Napoleon’s face boiled over with red. “Garcon! Seize him!”

The waiter grabbed Lincoln from behind, wrapped his smarmy French arms around the president’s neck.

He’s got me! Lincoln thought. It’s fortunate I traveled into the future first and learned jujitsu.

Lincoln flipped the Frenchman over his shoulder, landing in brie cheese. Lincoln turned and darted for the door.

“We’ll meet again, Napoleon!”

Before Lincoln could escape, the French army surrounded him.

“No, no, Monsieur Lincoln,” said Napoleon, dusting himself off with the hand that wasn’t tucked in his shirt. “You’re not going anywhere.” Lincoln was cornered. “Tell me of the time machine.”

“No,” said Lincoln gravely. “I promised the professor I wouldn’t tell anybody the secret of time travel. Honest.”

“Then you will die!” snapped Napoleon. “Garcon! Take him for torture!”

But before they could grab the 16th president, Lincoln reached up and grabbed the chandelier. He climbed up onto it and jumped over the French army. He leapt through the window and landed on a horse.

“Not today, Napoleon!” laughed the president, waving a hand good-bye. “Away, Planters!”

As the president rode off, Napoleon watched from a milk crate in front of the window.

“This Lincoln… he is my greatest enemy.”

For more of this great story, buy Davidson Estherhouse’s historical fantasy novel
Lincoln & Napoleon.

The Rheumatic Sleeping Doomsday Machine
“I’m John Patriot! Stay calm. I’ve saved the president six times so I think I can handle this situation.” Joking helped alleviate the situation for Patriot.

A Normal Family (Sarcasm Voice)
Bernard hated going home for the holidays. Flag Day was no exception. Flag Day always brought out the worst in the family—Dad’s drinking, Mom’s neurosis, brother Bob’s verbal abuse, sister Val’s being dead.