"What the hell happened here?" The man in the blue button up military coat came up to the wreck. He wore a hat on his head, and had a handlebar mustache.
"Well sir... It-" A young black man began to explain the incident.
"Shut up, I didn't ask you nigger." The man immediately silenced the young black man, who rested a large pick-axe on his shoulders. The black man recoiled slightly. "You there, tell me what happened here." The military man pointed to a young white boy who was looking at the wreck.
"The train just... Crashed Mister. It was going along the track alright and it just sort of... Turned over, top heavy or something." The white boy ran his hand over his dirty face. Smog and dust was just beginning to clear, the general had been leading a small platoon across the desert-like plain lands, when he had heard the twisting and tearing of metal.
"Sir, I think I can explain what happened here, you see the-" The young black man again, trying to speak slowly and get the soldier's attention.
"Did I ask for your opinion nigger?" The soldier turned on the young black man harshly, the black man once again recoiled, letting his pick fall into the ground.
"No sir, but my opinion isn't opinion, it's fact. The train-" The black man began again, not taking any kind of hints, insisting on giving his two cents.
"Shut up nigger! You will address me when I ask you and you will talk to me when I talk to you." The soldier's face turned read as he shouted at the black man. The black man's countenance took on a look of anger, his jaw shifted and his teeth began to grind.
The soldier looked over toward the white boy.
"These niggers all think they're self-entitled and-" The soldier was cut off by the crunching squelch of his own skull shattering as a pick-axe struck it and poured blood out onto the dusty soil.
"Hope you don't mind young boy."