For a moment she could have sworn she was standing in one of those history-comes-alive museums--the kind that feature animatronic robots, the narration stylings of James Earl Jones, and the sort of exhibits that invade children's nightmares for years to come. But instead of a cyborgish John Wilkes Booth discharging his deadly bullet into the back of a plastic Lincoln's head, a very real version of the assassin was engaged in a furious arm-wrestling match with Elvis Presley.

Lincoln was watching the tussle, amused. "Come on, John," he said. "You can do better than that."

"He's all talk," Elvis whispered back.

"Silence!" roared Booth. "I'm trying to concentrate!"

Lincoln rolled his eyes.

Autor: Gina Damico

For a moment she could have sworn she was standing in one of those history-comes-alive museums--the kind that feature animatronic robots, the narration stylings of James Earl Jones, and the sort of exhibits that invade children's nightmares for years to come. But instead of a cyborgish John Wilkes Booth discharging his deadly bullet into the back of a plastic Lincoln's head, a very real version of the assassin was engaged in a furious arm-wrestling match with Elvis Presley.<br /><br />Lincoln was watching the tussle, amused. "Come on, John," he said. "You can do better than that."<br /><br />"He's all talk," Elvis whispered back.<br /><br />"Silence!" roared Booth. "I'm trying to concentrate!"<br /><br />Lincoln rolled his eyes. - Gina Damico




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