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Flag Pole

“Listerine?” She asked.

“Yes, Listerine. It’s an antiseptic, it’s flammable, and it gives you fresh breath.”

“I thought you said you needed duct tape, paper clips, and rubber bands to rule the world?” Her arms crossed her chest and her left eyebrow arched.

“Those things are kid’s stuff. A true survivor needs chemistry, and matches. Did you know that historically the ball on the top of a flag pole contained a match, a razorblade, and a bullet.”

“Why?” She leaned forward and dropped her head to gaze over the edge.

“A razorblade and a match, to shred and burn the flag so that it couldn’t be taken by an enemy.”

“And the bullet?”

“It’s to shoot yourself to avoid surrender.”

“Not much good without a gun, is it?” She hoisted the rifle to her shoulder and gazed down the barrel at the company below. “Flag poles are kinda tall. Not sure you could reach that razorblade in time.”

“Not really.” I concurred as she pulled the trigger and sent the foot soldiers running while I lit the fuses.

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