Of Mice and Men

McDougal was born a slave on a plantation on the Mississippi in 1799. It was an odd plantation, growing mainly steamed vegetables like artichokes and broccoflower, and tits. McDougal's grandfather was captured by a slave owner named Onida Dockery, who was so cunning of a negro that he tricked white people into being his slaves. The slaves from neighboring plantations would come over at night and beat the white slaves, including young McDougal, and this had a profound effect on his development.

It was during the Civil War that the McDougal family realized they had fucked up and were on the wrong side of the fence. They quickly moved to Detroit and set to work in a factory riveting bolts into Ford F150s, a full 140 years before they even existed. Another driving factor in the confusion of young McDougal was the fact that these vehicles didn't need rivets, and his mother, uncle, aunts, and sister were just walking around shooting rivets into the windows and doors at random. McDougal's father did nothing but eat hot dogs and shit mice. (Note: He didn't eat entities called "shit mice," but when he shat, his fecal matter contained only live mice that infested the assembly plant.)

McDougal's sexual awakening came to him in the form of a smack from the labia majora of an attractive young girl from Poland. It was a steaming hot night in Kuala Lampur, where McDougal retreated following years of ritual abuse at the hands of his father's shit mice (Note: Here I am referring to the mice who were shat out by his father and branded shit mice by the rest of the family.)

Also, earlier I said "hands." Being shit mice and not the common variety house mouse (Mus musculus), which features claws, the shit mouse has actual hands -- very similar in nature to human hands, only much smaller, of course. The shit mice used these hands to punch, pinch and strangle young McDougal until he was driven mad and ultimately escaped to Kuala Lampur, where he was deflowered by a beautiful young Polish whore, who brought him kicking and screaming into manhood.

The woman, whose name dare not be spoken in polite company, taught McDougal the Polish language, how to make sausage, and how to be a man. In the years since, McDougal has often credited this nameless Polish whore with his many great successes.

Likewise, he has attributed his equally numerous failures (i.e. the minja, the Hindenberg, Gigli, the Pontiac Vibe, and Paul Simon's short lived attempt at theater) to her overly aggressive labia.

Truth be told, however, McDougal owes all his colossal life events to one man and one man alone. This man, his true father, is Onida Dockery.