everyone was still trying not to get trampled, or beamed by a flying missile.
BamaOay whistled aloud.
That seemed to get a good numbers attention.
“Listen to me you Jackasses!”
More and more eyes were directed in his direction. Some eyes went loopy after a rock rebounded off their skulls.
BamaOay raised his driver above his head, swinging it in a oval arc above his head. This caught more and more of his warriors attention.
“You must fight! My magical club...” more waving of the driver overhead, “will bring us victory today. But, you must fight!”
“But, we don’t know how to fight!” someone shouted back, a Jackass warrior BamaOay recalled seeing in a war council meeting who resembled Noble Prize winner, Paul UgmanKray.
“Shut up you yellow belly! Don’t listen to that fool...you do know how to fight!”
“No, we don’t!” hollered back another.
“Yes, you do!” screamed the barbarian. “I know you don’t have any weapons, but you can bite and scratch can’t you?”
“I suppose so,” answered a dubious bystander.
“That’s right, you can bite and scratch...and you can win by clawing and taking chunks out of them with your teeth. You are cannibals, after all, so just think of those evil Round Heads as barbecue!”
These were words of wisdom for some and the rabble began to take heed of the BamaOay’s words. He could see that he was getting to them by the rekindled fire he saw in some of his hairy warriors’ eyes.
“That’s right, you can do this!”
A few more of his men, between moments of covering up from an incoming barrage, bellowed out their approval.
Hurrah!
“Remember all the barbecue you will eat!”
Hurrah!
“Remember who we are...we’re Jackasses!”
HURRAH!
“I say we beat back those Round Heads...and make them barbecue!”
A rousing chorus of support rung out among his warriors.
“For the honor of our people!”
More cheering.
“For the honor of our clans!”
Yet, more cheering.
“For the honor of me, your magnificent leader, your King!”
Everyone joined...
HURRAH!
“Now attack!”
Everyone paused, glancing at one another with questioning looks and asking one another, “What did he just say?”
“I said, ATTACK!” screamed BamaOay.
There was more hesitation.
“Look you idiots, when you win think of all the raping and pillaging.”
“Holy Shit! Sex with different women?” shouted one warrior with obvious joy in his hearty voice.
“Yes, and they have a lot less hair growing everywhere like our women,” responded another.
“Yes, my warriors...no animals, but real women!”
HURRAH!
That did it, the thought of the plunders of war had lit their fuses.
“Now go, attack like you really mean it!”
“Attack!”
“Attack!”
“ATTACK!”
The second echelon of Jackasses were off.
He smiled inwardly as he saw the horde move off to battle. Just as in the other world, he still had that magic touch to work his voodoo on the simpler minds of both worlds.
“You truly are a great leader,” marveled Moonbeam.
“Never mind that now, I must return to my throne. Get moving!” BamaOay shouted, with a swat to Moonbeam’s large, burly buns.
Riding his lieutenant horseback through the surging crowd, the two moved slowly back to the safety of the Barbarian King’s camp.
Trajan had been fighting from the stone wall with his sling from under the clan’s scarlet banner. He took pause when he saw his dogs of war being brought up on their leashes from the reserve. Those brute beasts were going to be unleashed on those screaming Jackasses, but only at the right moment, at the climax of the battle. Trajan was waiting for the right moment, the moment when he saw the much-dreaded Amazonians running like banshees at his position.
Trajan smiled as he watched the handlers having to struggle to maintain their grips on the four-legged beasts.
“Take ScrowSucka (Illaryhay) down to my quarters. There is no need for her to see the bloody mess that’s about to ensue.”
Moments later, he remarked to his staff, “You see that, those war dogs smell the fear! Our men can barely maintain control over them. Wait until those beasts get a taste of those leftist do-gooders. Their worst nightmare is about to occur.”
At the rear of his horde the President could clearly see that there was a lot of fighting going from his perch. In the distance a wild melee was taking place as the two great hosts vied for victory. He thought all was going according to plan, however, Bill AherMay, aka Rat Catcher, was at the front and now beginning to realize most of the chaos and bedlam was occurring within their own ranks.
The former baggage porter could not clearly remember the details of the final charge at the enemy barricades followed by an unexpected violence that left him stunned and lying among a heap of fellow Jackasses. AherMay had only a confused impression of the whirl of mayhem around him—the terrifying grip of pleading hands, the blazing eyes of terror, and the hot stench of sweat and blood. Everything seemed disorganized and confusion was beginning to take hold. Groups of Jackasses were clubbing one another in the bedlam mistaking them as the enemy in the heat of battle. What began as minor skirmishes were growing in self destructiveness.
AherMay looked about him in disbelief, stones were flying through the air from the enemy parapet, then the madness at not being able to respond to those casting the missiles from the battlements, soon he was running fleetly to the rear crying like a baby. Then there was the sudden sensation of pain, of hurtling through the air, and lastly of seeing racing man-hoofs stampeding past him, before everything went dark.
Harry Eidray, aka B.O., came running up to the lifeguards chair where upon his majesty, the Barbarian King sat in all his greatness. Sweating with eyes full of fear he choked to catch his breath before delivering the message.
"Master, we must reform ranks immediately, or use your magic wand for we are getting pounded like flies out there in the valley."
BamaOay rose up, seeming to get taller, to grow more awesome and terrible. “What does that mean, ‘reform ranks?’”
“It means...wait a second, I don’t know what that means.”
BamaOay, sensing the urgency of the alarm pointed to one of his war cabinet, Jimmy ArvilleCay, saying, “Ig’nollum, come heather.”
“Yes, B’jagoff.”
“What does ‘reform ranks’ mean?”
In barely coherent English, and so tinged with hillbilly, Cajun, hick speech impediments the Jackass who resembled the so-called political guru of the Clinton Administration responded, “It means to close ranks.”
“I just said that you idiot dolt!” scolded BamaOay. “What does it mean? It sounds important.”
“Have you ever the game played ‘red rover?’”
BamaOay shook his head, “No.”
“It a game with two teams on opposite sides of a field just like here.”
“Okay, go on.”
“One team says red rover, red rover let someone from the other team come over."
“Yes,...”
“And they hold hands.”
“So, are you saying we need to hold hands?” asked the President with a dubious look.
“Exactly, everyone needs to hold hands.”
“Excuse me exalted one, but what the hell are holding hands suppose to accomplish?” asked the messenger, with urgency in his voice.
“Ig’nollum, do you have the answer?”
“Yes, me thinks so....”
Ig’nollum spent countless minutes describing how having everyone holding hands would prevent the enemy making any headw
ay should they counterattack. It was a defensive measure that was only going to slow down an attacking force. BamaOay let the mindless dribble continue because he had a secret weapon that he believed would take advantage of the defensive tactic and the moment was approaching when it was going to be the right time to unleash them.
“Okay, there you have it from someone who should know. Go tell your commander that he needs to get everyone to hold hands.”
“Excuse me Lord, but do you really think holding hands is going to help?”
BamaOay smiled and answered, “Yes, I think so.”
Looking in Jimmy’s direction with a wink, “Right, Ig’nollum?”
“Yep, that be doing the trick.”
“Okay, enough, get back to your position and inform the troops,” commanded BamaOay.
The messenger bowed, saluted with a huge fart and then stumbled his way over corpses and injured warriors back down to the front.
“Moonbeam, come hither.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Are those bitches of yours ready?”
“Yes, they’re ready Sire.”
“When I give the word I want them to charge, but wait for the signal.”
“Yes, Master.”
“Remember, no go before me signal."
“Yes, B’jagoff.”
“Say words. Before signal no go.”
“Before signal...go.”
“No...no, you dickwad! Before signal...DON’T go! Got it?”
“Yes, I think so. Before signal...before signal...”
“Don’t go!” screamed BamaOay. “Don’t go! Now you say!”
“Before signal...don’t go.”
“Yes, yes that’s it. Now, how hard was that?”
“Not hard.”
“Right, go now and have the hairy bitches ready for the attack.”
Women’s screaming could be heard coming from the rear. A fear-ridden cry suddenly came tumbling from the mouths of many from the rear, “The Amazons, they are coming!”
BamaOay had finally acted when he saw the first
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