Holy shit theres some hilarious stuff in there!

Two days prior to this day, and with absolute faith in the infinite possibilities of science, I climbed the highest peak of the Ozarks in search of the aerie of a North American condor. Having located a particularly fearsome specimen, I engaged the patriotic beast in hand-to-hand combat atop its mountain fastness. I dispatched its mewling young with contemptible ease, but the enraged matron of the flock scored several brutal pecks to my hands and arms. Weakened by these expert exsanguinations, I grabbed the bird around its feathered neck and throttled it.

This dwarf specimen is only one tenth the girth of the creature I faced [drawing of condor]. During what I assumed to be the creature’s last moments of life I was overcome with a natural and complete love of country. I could see bombs bursting red in the sky and singed flags flapping beneath a gently tooting bugle. In my patriotic fugue I unwittingly lessened my grip on the condor’s gizzard, allowing it to slip free my grasp and begin anew its attack on my face. My love for the Union was so powerful that I became blinded by the tears streaming from my eyes.