The McDougal Campaign Tour - Day 36

CAMPAIGN MANAGER'S JOURNAL - 9/27/2006 - THE PREHISTORIC FOREST

Once again, I'm hung over. And once again the bus comes to a screaming halt in the middle of a busy highway. McDougal has become enamored with another cheesy tourist trap. This time it is The Prehistoric Forest. While we are stopped a driver behind us fires several obscene gestures at McDougal then tries to pass the convoy on the shoulder. I've heard the stories before, but this was the first time I've actually gotten to see McDougal stop a car with his bare hands, in person. That guy is going to have a hard time explaining the damage to his insurance company. Poor bastard.

Since the gentleman whose car McDougal had turned inside out would almost certainly call the police, I decided that we would be best off laying low for the day. The Prehistoric Forest would be as good a place to lay low as any. Of course, this meant that they day's round of campaign appearances would be a complete wash. I'm afraid we are making very little headway with this campaign. Few people outside of the campaign staff and the readers of this blog are even aware of McDougal's candidacy. I often find myself sinking into depression. McDougal, on the other hand, is in high spirits. Life on the road agrees with him.

The Prehistoric Forest is basically a collection of fiberglass dinosaurs and other creatures arranged in a patch of woodland next to a trailer park. A few of the dinosaurs are animated and speakers hidden amongst the trees broadcast roars and various other noises for atmosphere. I was right about it being a great place to lie low. This being well beyond peak tourist season, we had the place all to ourselves. It is also a considerable distance from all of the day's scheduled campaign stops, so if the police figured out who we were (not a difficult bit of detective work, the bus says McDougal! on the side in huge letters) they would most likely be waiting for us. At least this time we found someplace to pass the time where we would not be attacked by dangerous animals. Although, while posing for this picture, campaign intern Tina did hit her head on one of the outstretched arms of the giant mantis.


While many tourist traps struggle to maintain the illusion that everything you are seeing is 100% real and the result of a warp in the space time continuum or some other such nonsense (World Famous Mystery Spot, I'm looking at you), The Prehistoric Forest doesn't stand on pretense. In fact, the first thing we encountered was a man fabricating a new pterodactyl. McDougal was very disappointed that we would not be seeing any real dinosaurs. Apparently he thought he would be able to hunt them like the animals at the Drive Thru African Safari (I didn't even bother trying to explain that he wasn't supposed to hunt those animals). McDougal said he really wanted a T-Rex to strap to the top of the bus with his elk. He never did get around to barbecuing those elk, by the way. They are still tied down on top of the bus, between the speakers. They are really starting to stink, not to mention attract flies, crows and the occasional turkey buzzard. One of the interns told me that they are also starting to ooze fluids down the sides of the bus, but with the hangover I could not bring myself to make a closer inspection.

At any rate, McDougal looked around for a few minutes and decided to go back to wait for us on the bus. If only he had made it further down the trail. Then he would have encountered this animatronic tyrannosaurus, safely secured behind an electrified fence. McDougal had the last laugh, however, if you want to call it that. While we were running around through The Prehistoric Forest he was on the bus getting into the pills, the mescaline and, probably most damaging, the Jurassic Park DVD we bought earlier to watch between campaign stops. By the time we got back it seems he had forgotten completely that the dinosaurs were mere fiberglass replicas. I found him crouched in the back seat of one of the Jeeps, staring intently at the fiberglass brontosaurus that stood over the entrance to the park, and clutching a .50 caliber elephant rifle.

"Thank god you're back! I've been watching this guy for hours," he hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't move, damn you! Their vision is based on movement!"

I was unsure how to proceed. I've never had any luck calming McDougal down. I don't think anyone has. But I knew we had to get out of there quick. McDougal solved this problem himself by suddenly leaping out and blasting off five rounds into the brontosaurus. Fiberglass is capable of taking a huge amount of abuse. While the large rounds tore several ragged holes in the brontosaurus' neck, McDougal did not succeed in completely removing the head, which he told me later was his goal.

"My GOD," he screamed, "that just pissed it off!" He then dove into the open door of the bus. I took that as are cue to leave.

Before we drove away, however, I had two of the interns run back into The Prehistoric Forest and grab this guy. Ladies and Gentlemen, meet Fiberglass Caveman. Right now, as I write this, he is riding in the back of the truck with the inflatable pink gorilla. I think Fiberglass Caveman in a charming dude, much too sophisticated for a backwater like The Prehistoric Forest. Maybe I will make him our new Press Secretary.