From: "Rev. Magdalen" <magdalen@subgenius. com>
Date: Wed, Jul 6, 2005 3:42 PM
This year X-Day had the lucky fortune to have a quorum
of Bachelors for
"Bob", enabling them to exude their own personal brand of impeccably
well-dressed Slack, augmented by the addition of the Littlest Bachelor,
L'il Reverend Alex, who is now all growed up and eighteen years old!
The Bachelors created an elaborate Gitmo-themed camp,
complete with a
surrounding fence of six-foot-high black plastic chicken wire, which
was completely invisible at night, leading to many humorous incidents.
But they did not stop there! Boss Dynamo was all "Bobbed" up and
determined to perform a ritual of zombification, intending to destroy
the Church of the SubGenius and resurrect it in a fiery zombie form,
purged of the dross and phlegm that had collected on its shining face
in the many years since its last destruction and rebirth.
In true Slack fashion, the plan for this zombification
was modeled on
that of the Underpants Gnomes:
Phase 1 - Dress in badass droog outfits.
Phase 2 - ?
Phase 3 - Fiery zombie resurrection!
So after dressing, the Bachelors consulted Chris Lee,
master of all dark arts, who said, "To make a zombie, use rum and a
pinch of cumin." Oh had they only heeded the part about the cumin!!
They ignored it to their peril. They also consulted some pagan guy who
revealed that you need to perform your zombification ritual in the dead
of night, and at dawn your zombie creation will arise.
Using the scientific principles of sympathetic magic,
passed their fabulous Marlboro Straw Hat around all the campground,
inviting all SubGenii to add something to it that symbolized the Church
to them. Some added secret and profound items, others picked up trash
lying at their feet. As the sacred ritual of Passing the Hat made its
way through the grounds, Pope Perro and the Pancake Bunny were added to
the mix, drops of swamp water and pool water, the flag from the dummy
""Bob's"" impaled head, some stuff Philo Drummond found in his pockets,
and even an item that had touched the sacred lips of Suzie the Floozie
herself! Truly it was a potent mixture, and perhaps they went too far
when they walked with it widdershins around the burned out pit of the
secret pagan ritual fire back in alt.slack woods. Yes, friends, maybe
it was the widdershins that did it.
At long last the hat was full and the Bachelors returned
with it to
their Gitmo camp for the ritual burning. Phloighd provided the rum,
and all participants spat brilliant, splattering streams on the sacred
burning remnants of the Church and said a few timely words of parting
as the hat and its contents were rendered into ash.
Now all that remained was to wait until dawn for the
zombie fire church
to arise from the ashes. SubGenii were drawn to the camp like flies to
the rotting corpse of an elk, and a raging, rock and roll, kickass
party began. It would be impossible to describe in detail the true
Dobbsian nature of this party, which was graced by many great SubGenii
as they made their wandering ways through Brushwood, pursuing their
As the party was in full swing, with may singing along
to the immortal
strains of Ween, Prrostata Cantata marched into the camp in his
underpants and shut off the radio. He turned on his heel to face the
assembled masses and announced that he wanted to sleep and therefore
the party was over. A long, long second followed while the gathered
faithful stared in slackjawed consternation, waiting for the punchline.
And Prrostata did not disappoint, adding in true deadpan style:
"Unless you get me so drunk I don't care about sleep."
After everyone had a good laugh Rev. 808 handed Prrostata
a bottle of
rum with about four inches left in it. Satisfied, Prrostata sat down
and began a lovely conversation with Suzie the Floozie, steadily
drinking his way through the bottle and partying with the Bachelors for
a good two hours, before being graciously escorted through the maze of
Gitmo fencing back to his tent by Mr. Morocco.
Soon after, Boss Dynamo called everyone's attention
to the fact that
there was a faint glow in the eastern sky. You can imagine the
excitement and anticipation in the hearts of those with true Faith in
"Bob" as they eagerly awaited the resurrection of the fiery zombie
church, purified and reborn with the shining Dobbsian nature exposed in
all its blinding glory! To commemorate the moment and to pass the time
until true dawn, the Bachelors put on that classic Ween song, "Piss up
a Rope", and everyone sang along heartily.
Halfway through the song, Mein Cock spoke up and said,
"How will we
know exactly when dawn comes, since we can't see the horizon through
the trees? Will there be some sign that the zombie fire church has
At that EXACT MOMENT, dear friends, Prrostata Cantata
returned to the
camp, CHANGED, oh how horribly changed, by the dark forces that had
been awakened that night. Possessed by the spirit of the Zombie Church
Resurrected, he was no longer capable of humanoid speech or action, but
rushed like a wild ape-man into the midst of the party. Charged with
power beyond human reckoning, he brought his mighty fist down onto the
Bachelors' radio, again and again, ending the chorus of "Piss up a
Rope" with the unmistakable sound of expensive electronic equipment
cracking and breaking in an orgy of destruction. He swept the entire
table clean to the ground with a shattering of crockery that resounded
through the foggy dawn, echoing up and down the hills of Brushwood, no
doubt causing the Amish to shiver uneasily in their sleep, as if
brushed lightly with the hand of some undead THING passing in the
I jumped to my feet and at once began to loudly remonstrate
Zombie Prrostata, much to my regret. For at that moment, other zombies
lurched from their tents and began to emerge into that cold, cold dawn.
The short silence of astonishment that followed the breaking of the
radio and my impulsive, ill-fated attempt to reason with zombie powers
beyond all control, was shattered as Zombie Lynx emerged from her tent
and shouted "CUUUUNT!!!" in a long, furious tone of such ringing zombie
purity that all were struck dumb. Motionless we stood as she announced
her intention to beat me to a pulp.
On fire with zombie madness, Zombie Lynx ran at me with
the speed of a
hundred angry undead, fist cocked back and a gleam of pure, unsullied
hate in her eye. She ran at me like an unstoppable juggernaut of rage,
and I was powerless to move, struck to the heart with terror in the
face of what the Bachelors had unleashed. If there had not been that
invisible fence of black chicken wire surrounding the Gitmo camp, I
would surely be dead. As it was, Zombie Lynx was forced to check her
speed and detour to the gate, giving the Bachelors enough time to
gallantly spring to their feet and interpose their very bodies before
her, willingly facing her awesome zombie wrath. Words cannot express
the gratitude I feel to them for saving my life that day.
What followed next is a confused jumble of shouting,
screaming and tears that even now I cannot place in any kind of
chronological order. The only clear memory I have is of shouting
lustily, "This is X-DAY!! You can do WHATEVER YOU WANT!!" to which the
Zombies answered, "NO, you CAN'T!!"
Eventually as that fateful sun rose ever higher into
the sky the zombie
spirit began to dissipate and diffuse throughout the camp, draining
away from those it had originally found focus in. After a period of
time I had the presence of mind to escort the Bachelors for "Bob" to
the Hierarchy Trailer, where they could be locked behind doors that
have stood the test of many a zombie mob in X-Days past. There, safe
for the time being from the anger of their creations, they fully rued
the fact that they had neglected the cumin in their zombie recipe.
But as that zombie sun shone down upon the camp, casting
light on the destruction and rubble of Camp Gitmo, and on the cherubic
faces of the chastened Bachelors in their restless sleep, I walked that
ground and saw that despite the lack of cumin, the spark of the true
Church of the SubGenius had indeed been reborn, vital and renewed,
possibly flawed with swamp madness, but more alive and full of "Bob"
than before that dreadful ritual touched on Matters that Man was Not
Meant to Know.
Viva Pope Perro!
-- Reverend Mary Magdalen, Cunt
Original file name: X-DAY SUPPLEMENTAL REPORT#99D4B - converted on Monday, 18 July 2005, 17:18
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