All is lost.

The campaign is in complete disorder. Now lacking in any management whatsoever, we continue to sit on the broken down bus at this rest stop in Minnesota. There must be money to fix the bus in the campaign fund, but no one outside of McDougal himself and his former campaign manager know how to access those funds. At this point, the staff just wanders around aimlessly, trying to occupy the time. Some have fashioned the inflatable gorilla into a crude tent, where they are holding nightly religious revivals. Others have taken to turning tricks for passing truck drivers. Two of the interns went feral and disappeared off into the woods. Sometimes at night I can hear them howling at the moon.

The only staff member who has remained stoic in the face of this soul-crushing boredom is Fiberglass Caveman, McDougal's press secretary. This morning I found a typed press release on his desk, declaring that McDougal is making the elimination of Daylight Savings Time one of the cornerstones of his platform. I sent the statement out, expecting it to be ignored as usual. To my surprise, a reporter from the Duluth Sunshine Telegraph Register Tribune showed up to inquire about an interview with McDougal. The big man gave his consent, so the interview was arranged underneath the Gorilla Bigtop. I think if the interview had stayed on topic, it would have gone well. The elimination of Daylight Savings Time is actually something I agree with, as, I imagine, many of you do. Unfortunately, the interview strayed off topic very quickly. Here's a transcript:

DSTRT: So, I understand you want to make Daylight Savings Time a campaign issue?

McD: Absolutely. Those fat cats in Washington have misled the American people for too long. Daylight savings... Ha! While John Q. Public is sleeping in, the politicians are off lining their pockets with our precious daylight.

DSTRT: Um...

McD: Open your eyes, sir! It's a scam! There is no reason to save daylight in a modern society with the technology we have... sunlamps and such...

DSTRT: I don't think... uh...

The reporter is starting to look nervous and is beginning to sweat. As McDougal talks he gets more and more animated, first standing up, then waving his arms around ever more frantically.

McD: And think of all the benefits! Do you realize that if we don't set our clocks back in the Spring, by the summer the drive-in movie theaters will be able to open a whole hour earlier. And the Fourth of July fireworks! We've been stealing time from the birthday of our country! Why, as a red-blooded American, the very thought of it makes my blood... my red blood... boil. Boiling hot. Red hot. Blood... Say, would you like something to drink?

DSTRT: Yes! I'm... er... Wait.

McDougal hands him a glass. The reporter looks at it, relieved.

DSTRT: You know, for a second there... I thought you were going to give me blood.

Both laugh and McDougal sits back down. The reporter takes a sip of his drink, then immediately spits it out.

DSTRT: Ghaaa! What the hell is this?!

McD: That? Oh, that's poison. It's bad, huh?

DSTRT: What?! Why the hell would you give me poison?

McD: (chuckles) To kill you, of course. Why else would I give you poison?

DSTRT: (beginning to panic) Oh my God!

McD: Relax. You would have to drink the whole thing for it to kill you. It's kind of a weak poison really. As little as you drank, you probably won't even get sick.

DSTRT: So... So I'm OK?

McD: Well, you may notice a tiny bit of blood in your stool, but basically... yeah.

DSTRT: Jesus...

McD: So, what did it taste like?

DSTRT: What?

McD: The poison.

DSTRT: Wait a minute... If you wanted me dead, why didn't you just shoot me or something? I've seen quite a few guns laying around here. Other weapons too.

McD: (getting impatient) Well I didn't want you to die here! Then I would be stuck disposing of the body. The plan was that you would die on the drive home. The freeway really would have been perfect. Especially a nice fiery accident.

DSTRT: Um...

McD: Like I said, weak poison... slow acting... So, you said the poison tasted terrible?

DSTRT: Uh... Yeah?

McD: Terrible how? Like, what specifically made it bad?

DSTRT: I... I don't know... What?

McD: Well, do you have any recommendations on how I could make it taste better? Like, is there something I could add? I'd really rather not have a repeat of this situation.