Pork v Prok

I want to know why everyone thinks McDougal has something against the pork industry. Let me tell you bloody fucking porkers a little story about when I was in the Army with McDougal.

It was the summer of '84, and we were holed up near Phnom Penh. We were surrounded by peasant zombies, who were intent on eating our brains. McDougal's mind was blown on a pound of premium Iranian hash and CIA-issued brake fluid, but he was still sharp as a tack.

I looked up at him and he had this kind of half-smile, half cryface on and he was listening to Suite: Judy Blue Eyes on his Sony "Walk Man". I was making sweet love to a buxom Irish barmaid we brought along for entertainment, and the rest of the troops were making a hollandaise sauce in the puptent, so to speak.

"Buck Rogers, stop fucking the irishman and get ready, here come a shitload of flesh eating zombies."

I hear the telltale swishing and groaning of the approaching zombies and fear strikes me temporarily flaccid. McDougal is still perched up on the gunnery wistfully singing CSN&Y. All at once he is shooting in 40 different directions, his body a blur of fire and metal as he mows down a hundred slack jawed zombies. I see one creeping into the mess tent and getting his rotting mits into the hollandaise sauce. "McD!" someone yells as his head is being ripped off, "the sau--" and Bam, McDougal is on him like shit on grass, the bullets tear the zombie from his ill-gotten ladle and before I can pull a scream from my throat Tullis and Pettyjohn are getting the ladle back into the pot and cleaning out the pieces of zombie from the sauce and surrounding cooking area. Then I hear another creak and off to my left in the latrine there are three zombies building a Jenga tower with toilet paper tubes "MCDOUGAL" I scream and he's launching a rocket into their fucking faces one for each one of their goddamned stupid fucking faces....

I'm sorry. Every time I let my mind go back to that place I ... I'm sorry.

So anyway, I hope that makes a difference.