My original plan was to write a 100% factual story once a week. Promise you won't be mad.... but I sort of missed my mark, in that I haven't written in the last 11 months, and that story was 3 months after the last before it. Not to mention, not all my stories have been 100% factual... they've been about 213% factual. So, without further uhdoo, here's my story.
There was once a General of the Chinese army. He was a wealthy man, and often wore suits with a high thread count, as wealthy men do, because he was wealthy, had plenty of money, and was loaded. He also liked to look presentable, okay? Get off the man's case! Unfortunately, he didn't want to be a general. He was drafted into the military at a very young age (living in a communist country), and he excelled quickly. What he really wanted was to be a truck driver in the United States, and experience nagging dispatchers, irritating DOT inspections, live away from family and friends for long periods of time, and eat greasy truckstop food. But that is another story entirely, and does not have its hand in this one. The general's mother was a famous cook, and had her own show on the Chinese equivalent of the Food channel, the name of which roughly translates to, "What, You Don't Like Our Communist, Government Provided Food? Network". The name was forced by the communist government, and the government seemed to be hostile to the channel. However, the government officials did enjoy forcing their inferior wives to make the food displayed on the channel, and so it stayed. But his mother was long away from her job at the WYDLOCGPR Network, as she was on her death bed. The General came as soon as he could when the news was delivered to him by a small Chinese boy who was later beaten for diverting from his pre-scheduled day, as every communist child had. He leaned in to his mother to listen, as she struggled to gasp for air, every breath becoming weaker and weaker. "Son, I left," she said, stopping to cough and pull in enough air to speak. "Would you please speak up, mother?!" shouted the General, putting his female mother into her rightful place in the Communist Chinese system. "I left you a gift." she struggled to say. "Would you just come out with it mother, and please annunciate, I don't want to be here all day," said the General. His mother was taken aback, but she continued, "I left you three tons of my famous chicken. I even named it after you. It's kept in a vacuum sealed freezer so it will last." She looked at her boy with a proud expression on her face, but he just looked confused and angry. "You're just leaving me chicken?! What a parting gift that is!" her son shouted. He continued to throw over her bedside table and storm out of the room, his mother breaking into tears. What a tragic moment that would have been, right? Well, it was pretty bad, but fortunately for her she got better in a matter of days, and was thriving after a month. The General paid no mind to his mother's recovery, however, because he had work to do. Or so he thought. He sat for days, pondering what to do. There had to be some infidel to attack, right? Some evil military force, maybe a country talking smack, or a group of innocent civilians expressing their desire for an actual republic, as their name suggests, instead of a communism. But nothing came to mind. He sat pondering, while his right hand man, Ying-yang Ping-pong awaited his orders. "Sir," Ying-yang said, "what exactly are we going to do? You've had our entire military at attention for days now, but we have yet to hear one order other than to ready for battle." Ying-yang Ping-pong had a point. The General responded, "Hold it Ying-yang, I need to ponder." He sat in silence, thinking about what he could do. "Ying-yang Ping-pong, my right hand man with a ridiculous, stereotypical Asian name," the General said. "Would you please order an attack on all civilians who want a republic?" Ying-yang sat for a few seconds, with a concerned look on his face. "So, you want open season on anyone who is not a government official, sir?" The General thought it over, and changed his mind. "No, I've changed my mind," he said. "I know," responded Ying-yang, "the narrator has made it quite clear that you have changed your mind. The General was concerned by Ying-yang's schizophrenia, but shook it off and continued. "We'll attack China, those communist pigs!" the General exclaimed. "We are China," said Ying-yang. The General was confused for a moment, then realized how correct Ying-yang Ping-pong was. "Russia?" he asked. "No," responded Ying-yang, "that will probably cause a nuclear war." He thought for a moment. "United Kingdom?" he asked. "Nuclear war." "Iran?" he continued. "Nuclear." Ying-yang retorted. "United States?" the General asked. Ying-yang said nothing, he was just in shock by the General's insanity. "Sir, would you excuse me?" asked Ying-yang. "I thought you looked a little antsy." the General replied, "Do you have to pee?" Ying-yang left the room. The General sat for a few minutes, then a few men in suits entered the room. One said, "Sir, you've been relieved of your position, as you have suggested going to war with the country whose name is not spoken. They would utterly crush us, and we know it. We are not suicidal, just power hungry." With those words, the General was out of work. He got home, but General Tso yelled with a disheartened, angry look and a baffled tone, "Who the heck ate all my chicken?!" But he noticed that the perpetrator left their pants. In it he found a wallet, with a torn library card that had the remains of a name, ending in "siah Johnson". He was angry, but upon finding a Zippo lighter in the pocket, he was overjoyed, and played with it to his heart's content. This alone was enough to constitute the overused, almost expected ending of, "and he lived happily ever after." But don't fret. He died in a house fire started by the lighter only three weeks later.
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