VooDougal 2006 (Part IV)

In retrospect, attempting to overthrow the Haitian government was a bad idea. Those UN peacekeepers are surprisingly good shots. I take back all those bad things I said about the Sri Lankan military.

I spent all day stitching zombies back together.

On the plus side, the campaign staff beat a very organized and tactically sound retreat when things started to head south. I like their instincts.

Still no sign of McDougal. I stopped by his distillery and all of the rum was gone. I imagine if I find the rum, there I will find McDougal.

VooDougal 2006 (Part III)

We haven't seen McDougal in several days. I have completed the retraining of the campaign staff. I can't think of anything else we need to accomplish here in Haiti, but we are unable to leave without McDougal. In the meantime, I've been trying to find busy work for the staff. Helping the zombies cut sugarcane and such. I've been telling them it helps them learn humility, but I'm pretty sure they know I'm bullshitting them.

I took a team into Port au Prince today. We took a quick drive by the airport. McDougal's plane was nowhere to be seen. Damn. Where the fuck is he?

I decided to take the staff over to the Presidential Palace and have them do a security survey. You know, for training purposes. Sort of a "if you were going to stage a coup, right here, right now, what would you do?" kind of a thing. Their ideas and tactics seem sound. I particularly liked their suggestion that the machete-wielding zombies could be sent in first, as a distraction.

The plan is so good, maybe we will try it out for real. After all, people are always complaining that McDougal's lack of political experience is a liability. President of Haiti might be a good entry level position. Plus it will build some serious foreign policy cred.

VooDougal 2006 (Part II)

The campaign staff is making so much progress here in Haiti! I'm very proud of them. They are mastering election rigging and their marksmanship has improved greatly. Yesterday we went down into one of the slums in Port au Prince and practiced the fine art of starting a riot. Some of the interns have even taken up voodoo. Right now they are working on a curse that will kill the political careers of McDougal's competitors. I'm thinking of letting them test it out on Barack Obama.

We haven't seen much of McDougal since we've been down here. Turns out he owns a large sugar plantation here. He had completely forgotten about it until I mentioned Haiti last week, so he was eager to get down here and have a look. Since the campaign is low on funds right now, McDougal generously offered to let us stay in the workers quarters at his plantation. These are concrete block shacks (see photo) without electricity or running water. Each shack ordinarily houses fifteen workers, so with the campaign staff added to the mix, space is a little tight.

After observing production at the plantation for a few hours, I complimented McDougal on how hardworking, obedient and silent his workforce is. Most of Haiti is a noisy, chaotic place, but McDougal's plantation is silent as a tomb. There is no complaining or backtalk. McDougal told me that is because all of his employees are zombies. I was certain he was joking, but the big man just fixed on me with a steely gaze and my laughter quickly faded. Later, when McDougal was gone, I went to talk with the foreman. For the first time, I noticed that he seemed terrified of the workers he was supposed to be in charge of. He told me that when McDougal first started the plantation, he spent several years scouring the backwaters of Haiti for the zombies that would become his workforce. Mindless and soulless, they would do whatever they were told. At the end of the day, if the foreman didn't tell them to stop working, they would hack with their machetes until every plant and tree on McDougal's property was gone. Then they would turn on each other.

Once harvested, McDougal's sugar cane is loaded onto ox carts. It is then taken to a distillery in town, which McDougal also owns, where it is brewed into a particularly potent variety of rum. Before the rum is sealed in oak casks to age, a hougan (voodoo priest) adds a secret ingredient to each batch. He says that this will give anyone who drinks the rum the power to communicate with the spirits. Or something like that. My Creole isn't that great.

It speaks of this in the Bible

There has been a small outbreak of “zombism” in a small town near the border of Laos in North-Eastern Cambodia.

The culprit was discovered to be mosquitoes native to that region carrying a new strain of Malaria which thus far has a 100 percent mortality rate and kills victims in fewer than 2 days.

After death, this parasite is able to restart the heart of its victim for up to two hours after the initial demise of the person where the individual behaves in extremely violent ways from what is believed to be a combination of brain damage and a chemical released into blood during “resurrection.”

Cambodian officials say that the outbreak has been contained and the public has no need to worry.

General Ary Serey had this to say, "We have obtained samples of this new parasite and plan to learn how it starts the heart and other major organs of the deceased. We intend to use this to increase the quality of life for all."

US Secretary of State Condoleeza Rice opposed the plan saying that the Cambodian government holds a great biological weapon and should destroy it immediately. Cambodian officials have yet to comment.

A United Nations team will be dispatched to Cambodia to confirm the safety of biological research in Cambodia.

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.