Missouri Escapades (Election 2000) by Fiona Hendricksen

Missouri Escapades (Election 2000)

by Fiona Hendricksen

[Researched mid November, 2000, on location.]

The following three episodes are rumored to have occurred within twenty-four hours after polling commenced on the morning of the presidential election in the state of Missouri, where so many irregularities are reported to have taken place. The chronicler has no wish to reveal the alleged political affiliations of those involved. She presents the episodes solely for entertainment value.

I.
On election night, after the polls had closed in a medium sized town in one of the more densely populated counties in Missouri, volunteers were transporting boxloads of ballots from the polling area to the basement where counting machines were already tabulating votes for the respective candidates when a large black bear suddenly burst into the room by way of a back window. It wouldn't be possible to exaggerate the consternation of the ballot workers, who instantly fled outside through the two available doors. Those in the basement, having heard the exclamations of panic and also alerted to the danger by those outside, likewise exited the building through a cellar door.

But what happens once the place is deserted, not counting the bear that proceeds to swat over a garbage can and commence to forage for scraps among its contents? Two men in their early twenties, wearing the uniforms of a nearby amusement park, appear from somewhere upstairs and advance to the abandoned boxloads of ballots. Betraying no fear of the bear whatsoever, they plunge their hands into the ballot boxes and begin rapidly sorting. The ballots that favor the primary threat to their preferred candidate are placed in mailing envelopes that are stuffed under their shirts or inside their pants. The two men work with amazing rapidity; within five minutes close to a dozen of the envelopes are filled with ballots and concealed under their clothing. Satisfied at having removed several hundred votes that oppose their candidate from the final tally, they turn their attention to exiting the place.

"It's ok, people -- this is a tame bear!" one of the young men announces as both appear in the main doorway, each holding a leash fastened to a collar on the bear's neck.

"We were right on his heels -- followed him through that window!" says the other young man. "He wandered off from the park, but he won't get away again! A truck's been sent to fetch him back -- look, it's here already!"

Sure enough, a van with the logo of the amusement park plainly stamped upon it pulls up to the curb. With many apologies and repeated assurances that the bear, good-natured and harmless as he is, won't be permitted to escape again, the young men conduct him to the van and nudge him inside. Off they drive, with many of the formerly frightened volunteers laughing. A subsequent police investigation reveals that the amusement park has never kept a bear on the premises.

II.
Likewise on election night, just outside the school auditorium in a virtually one-party district where a long line of voters had another hour in which to cast their ballots, an unforeseen and disruptive incident occurred: a skimpily clad woman, apparently drunk, forced her way inside without bothering to stand in line. "I've got to ask a question! I need to ask someone in authority something!" she kept shouting in response to requests that she take her place at the end of the line. "Hey! Where's a cop? Where's a professional person?" she continued to exclaim while darting among the voting booths, fending all requests that she exit away, daring anyone to touch her. "Don't handle me!" she yelled several times. "I won't be handled!"

In addition to being clothed in nothing but a torn dress, seamed stockings, and heels the woman's exceedingly attractive: tall, slender, with a high beehive of orange hair, and sizeable breasts. She boldly steps up to a voting official: "Can you tell me where the nearest hairdresser is?" she inquires while seizing his shoulder and staring him fixedly in the eye. "Come on, honey! I won't bite!" she continues on account of his confused silence, "All sweet little innocent Missy-Sue wants is to get her hair properly done!"

"I -- I think you'd better leave!" replies the official in a glancing at the ground manner, obviously embarrassed to suddenly be stared at by nearly everyone in the room.

"Well, that beats everything!" Missy-Sue yells while waving her arms, "I come here in all humility and mannerliness to be assisted and just get screamed at instead! You're no gentleman, you rude snob, you stupid snit!" she says to the official who, now more uncomfortable than ever, is seeking to walk away. "Maybe you just need a little bump and grind in your life, honey?" Missy-Sue mercilessly continues, "Is that the problem, dear?" She wiggles and shakes quite skillfully as the official beats a hasty retreat to a back room.

As we've said, the incident takes place in a school auditorium -- a circumstance Missy-Sue's quick to capitalize upon: with a shout of, "Someone's going to help me, the vote be damned!" she races towards and climbs upon the stage. "I still have no idea where to get my hair done!" she continues to yell, "Won't somebody direct me, anyone at all?" While making her plea for hairstyling assistance, she commences to wiggle again. Eventually she removes the skimpy dress and is standing on the stage in stockings and heels.

Some people are amused at the proceedings, others are outraged, some are quite blatantly excited; one thing's certain: Missy-Sue is the undeniable center of attention and is successfully hindering the election process. By the time the police arrive to arrest her the remaining hour of voting time has elapsed and the polls are closed, despite the strip act that has prevented a large number of votes from being cast in this, we say it again, virtually one-party district.

III.
In the early hours of Wednesday morning, following election night in a mixed party suburb of St. Louis, a high-powered water hose was aimed through the window of a state building at boxes of ballots awaiting tabulation in a backroom. The force of the jet of water, at least three inches in diameter, easily knocked most of the boxes off the tables on which they'd been stacked, tore the lids off, and scattered ballots everywhere.

"Ballots were stuck to the walls, even the ceiling," laughed the teller of this particular tale. "Officials were frantically flailing their arms and yelling in the spray, glancing about in utter confusion, as if a hurricane had struck! Apparently, a couple of them were magnanimously urging their comrades to spare themselves additional discomfort, excitedly pointing the way to the door, holding it open -- ha ha! after which these two were briefly -- or so, at least, it's said -- glimpsed absolutely stomping the wet ballots into the floor, grinding them into mush with their heels, as if crazed on a wild dance floor! Yes, seen doing that after they thought the door was fully shut but when, unknown to them, it opened a couple inches for a few seconds! Reportedly mish-mashing as many votes as possible! But, afterwards, you know what? They're able to swear they were just struggling to stay on their feet, and no one can prove otherwise! And it didn't last long, either -- people were at the window in short order, where they discovered the hose held there with duct tape -- they just yanked it down. Who really knows what the full implications are, dirty politics wise? Could have been a prankster out for a thrill! Hard to pin it on one of the parties in this mixed party district, all suburb, meeting of city and country dispositions: how could those two workers, assuming they were up to manipulation, have been able to distinguish one ballot from another and know whose chances they were helping or hindering? So, yes, it might have been a botched attempt to go after one candidate's votes -- or just a joke -- or non-party preferential outrage in general -- impossible to know! But I do dare say it's funny what elections tend to bring out in people -- election night's always got some shenanigans going on -- it's always like a full moon's up and influencing behavior, conjuring craziness to the surface!"

"For instance," he continued after downing another shot of Jack Daniels, "four years ago, during the last election... Well, it was a given Clinton was an easy shoo-in -- highly doubtful anyone would waste their time fruitlessly attempting to influence a presidential election so one-sided; but things were different concerning a certain county commissioner race in which two bitterly opposed rivals representing opposite interests were running neck to neck. And so in the said county votes were being cast in the youth center of a church whose parishioners were generally strongly in favor of one of the county candidates -- the place was fairly crowded, with a lot of voters lingering at the refreshment stand, trading gossip while partaking of fresh baking and coffee. Suddenly a fancy customized pickup with tinted windows, curling side exhaust pipes, and no muffler comes to a stop near the entrance -- as the invisible driver continues to rev the engine and cause an annoying roar, two men with gunny sacks wrapped about their heads leap from the back, carrying something concealed in a dirty tarp -- they race into the midst of the people at the polls, and what happens? They dump a bloated, smelly, rotting animal carcass onto the floor, yell, 'Good eating, folks!,' and dash back out the door. The carcass is in such a state of decay it's barely recognizable as that of a pig -- maggots wildly writhe in the fetid flesh, spill onto the floor -- the smell is so suffocatingly repellent a couple of people retch and vomit -- sleeves are rapidly placed over mouths, faces grimace in revulsion, all feet hasten for the exit!

"And now, listen to this: on the same night in the same county votes were also being cast on the premises of a college, in a town whose residents were generally thought to favor the other candidate. A young man -- close to seven feet, nearly three hundred pounds, mostly muscle -- proceeds to drag a struggling girl inside, bend her forwards over a large desk, yank up her dress, pull down her pantyhose, and flog her with fresh celery stalks -- tearing one after another off the bunch he'd tossed on the desk alongside her, as they broke with the force of impact against the round globes of her buttocks. Workers, voicing disapproval from a safe distance, were greeted with, 'Mind your own business -- it's a family matter -- no sister of mine's going to make out like a tramp in a backseat -- no sister of mine's going to slobber on a backcountry slob's face!'

"So here we had, in the same county," he laughed while pouring himself another glass, "two disruptive incidents in opposite camps on the local level: were they intended to influence the outcome of the tight commissioner race? Or was the pig carcass episode a non party-affiliated prank and the flogging incident an authentic sibling disagreement that only chanced to occur during the vote?

"Yup, I love election night!" concluded this teller of tales with another upturn of his shot glass. "Silliness galore, never a bore!"