From: Shodan, Special Project Manager, Africa Division
To: Phil Phatcat, Assistant Director, Overseas Development
Ronco Corp.
Date: January 3, 2012
Dear Phil:
You asked for weekly status reports on the progress of the Cap Snaffler[sup]TM[/sup] factory I am supposed to set up here in the lovely Republic of Boo-foo-Yoo. Okay, here we go.
As you heard from my secretary, my arrival in this Godforsaken country was delayed by the national emergency General Acid Lamp declared after the latest disaster. You probably know more about it than I do, since there is a news blackout in the country and all I hear is rumors. From what they say, the General called a peace conference last week, and actually got two of the larger warring factions to declare peace and disarmament in return for a general amnesty. This got a hell of a lot of positive press - some were talking about a Nobel Prize - but it kind of fell apart after the Congoleum Liberation Front, a group I never heard of but who is apparently funded by a Marxist faction in neighboring Bumfukistan, took advantage of the disarmament to shoot everyone in sight and attempt a coup in Boo-Foo-You’s second largest city, Marasmus. And it was only last week that travel into or out of the country was allowed.
So I arrived here to find that, essentially, nothing has been done. I stopped by the docks, first of all, to see if the shipments of equipment had been off loaded and prepared to be moved to the factory site. No, they were not. The head of the docks said they hadn’t received the special license needed to move freight during a national emergency.
When I went to the office to see about the license, somebody there who claimed to be the Under-Secretary in Charge of the Executive Washroom said that the Chief Secretary was off at a party celebrating his grand-nephews circumcision, and wouldn’t be back for a week. However, for a special fee of $5000, he said he could expedite the license. I didn’t feel like we could wait a lot longer, so I approved the fee (see my expense report). He stamped the hell out of a piece of paper which said something in their indecipherable language (the interpreter we arranged disappeared yesterday to go to the funeral of the nun who taught him to read - she died in prison under the recent Religious Freedom Act that got passed last year).
So I went back to the docks, armed with the license, and the dock workers said they wanted an extra $20 apiece to work during a national emergency. I paid up (see my expense report again) and promised a bonus if they got it all off loaded by the end of the day.
Then I went off to the factory site. You remember it, maybe - it was the site of one of the soccer stadiums that got leveled in a riot when the Boo-Foo-You Strikers lost in the quarter-finals to the Bumfukistan Beagles. There were a whole shit load of squatters on the site - with the emphasis on the word “shit”, no sewage facilities seem to have been arranged - but we expected that, and the local army types moved them off pretty quick. There was a photographer from Time there taking pictures, and I don’t think he was real happy about how the squatters were being treated, but there isn’t anything I can do about that.
While they were clearing the shanties off the factory site, I went back to the docks to see how the off loading was going. Most of the dock workers were gone, although it was still only about 3:00pm, and all the heavy stuff, including both the generators, were still on the ship. I finally located the supervisor, who said they were done for the day, but if I doubled the bonus and paid overtime, they could load some of the construction materials on the trucks and get it out to the factory site. I paid up (see my expense report), we loaded the construction material and set off for the site.
We got there fine, although the road is little better than a cow track with more holes in it than a college student’s undershorts, unloaded the materials, and went back for more. When we got back to the dock, the generators were still not unloaded, and the dock workers were gone (again). The captain of the ship was waiting for me. He said that he didn’t want to waste any more time in this fershlugginer hole (not his exact words, but I got his drift) and he was losing money because he was not on his way to his next port of call, and that if I didn’t get the generators off at once, he would sail with them on board and I could pick them up when he returned a week from Tuesday. Unless…
I paid up (see my expense report).
We headed back to the factory site. When I got there, not only were all the aluminum rain gutters gone, but also the tin for the roof and half the bricks. Also, the two guards we hired. The special consultant we hired said he didn’t know anything about it, but I spotted some rain gutters sticking out of the back of his Land Rover. I confronted him, he denied everything. So I went off to the police station to see what could be done.
To make a very unpleasant story short, the chief of police is his uncle-in-law, once removed, or something, and not only did he not believe me, he fined me $5000 for filing a false report. (see my expense report.)
The good news is, if I agreed to hire back his nephew-in-law, once removed, he would forgive the thirty days in jail he sentenced me to, and his nephew-in-law could supply all the building materials I was missing. Which he did - by coincidence, it appeared to be exactly the same as the stolen materials, down to the labels on the boxes.
Phil, we are already almost $27,000 over budget to date and a week behind schedule and we haven’t achieved much of anything. I was told the only reason we agreed to get into this project was that the new government had cracked down on corruption. Also that we got an international development grant from the US government. Unfortunately, that grant stipulates that we do all our transactions in the local currency, to stimulate the economy. Nobody will accept the local currency - they want dollars, or euros.
Phil, I was chosen for this project because I worked on that Russian project. The Russian Mafia is pretty unpleasant, but at least when they see their cut threatened, they knee cap some people and things start to get done, and they stay bought. Here I got someone coming to me with their hand out every minute, and it’s a different guy every time.
On the up side, the local beer is acceptable. (See my expense report.)
Regards,
Shodan