The snarling werewolficorn howled in anguish as the airship drifted out of its reach. Genghis repeatedly spurred the creature into wild leaps that fell short by more and more distance. He screamed and his nightmarish mount howled with him in a bone chilling duet of evil. The airship slowly elevated away in silhouette against the full moon, and Khan realized his foe had escaped.

A deafening explosive crack signaled a glowing streak that struck both nightmare mount and sinister rider. Khan bled on the cold ground writhing in pain and growling in frustration. The werewolficorn lay still next to him with two flaming holes in its fire breathing chest. Well polished knee high cavalry boots stepped on the dying creature’s neck and thick powerful hands wrenched the horn free of its bleeding skull.

Bathed in pale moonlight, wearing a cavalry sash and stetson, brandishing a gleaming brass rail gun, with a set of glasses that reflected the moon, Theodore Roosevelt, the rough-rider, said, “Bully!” and Genghis wept.