Further Adventures of the Real George Washington

“I hate fucking Virginia,” said Washington. “Makes me sweat like a fucking pig from April to October. And the mosquitoes…” He shuddered.

“But many of us feel that the capitol should be in Virginia. It’s the center of our country, after all.”

“No. No, no, no. Not only does it make me sweat, that fucking bitch-monster wife of mine is down there at Mount Vernon. I want as far away as possible. I don’t want to hear her talking about how the money’s all hers. Of course it’s all hers, why else would I marry a woman who insists on owning her own sister? I’m staying in Philadelphia. Do what you want after that.”

“But we have the plans for this new city…we want to name it for you, sir.”

“Do you know what the Iroquois call me, you pathetic little bastard prick? ‘Town-Destroyer’. You build that city, I’ll call back up the army-they’ll come, too-and I’ll level it.”

Just then, the door flew open. A short, ugly old woman, carrying a whip in her muscular right arm walked in.

“Fuck,” said Washington. “My wife.”

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