"Karl? It's…it's three in the morning…what's going on? Is Mark OK?" I had to start getting more sleep. This life-of-the-campaign-manager crap was killing me.

"Yeah…yeah, he's OK. His, uh, his eye started hemorrhaging, but he's okay."

"His what? Where are you guys? I better get up there…" I hopped out of bed, cradling the phone in the crook of my neck and looking for pants.

"No, no, we're back at his place," Karl esplained. "I just wanted to let you know about this whole thing. Mark was just sitting in his basement watching Flintstones re-runs and his eye started bleeding. The doctors said it just happens, but…"

"Just happens my ass!" I heard Mark say in the background. "Some political operative did this to me! I can tell! When I get my…" his voice trailed off.

"Anyway," Karl continued, "I just wanted to let you know that for the three hours he was in the emergency room, I maintained the succession of power, and stood in as candidate."

"Huh?" I asked, sitting down on the edge of my bed.

"Y'know, like I'll do when I'm vice-president. If Mark's ill, I step in."

I shook my head. What Karl was saying was insane. It was always fairly apparent that we had no chance whatsoever of Mark winning the Presidency. That said, the gamut of incredible losers that the Democratic National Committee was pitting against each other in pitiful gladiatorial combat was making it obvious that Bush was in dire need of a legitimate challenger. The grassroots neurosis of the recent California gubernatioral campaigns had convinced Karl and Mark that they had the presidency tied up nice and tight. It was merely a matter of publicity and waiting. Karl was even drafting plans for a new White House basement bowling alley.

"Well," I said, "well done, soldier. Glad to hear that we're following all applicable protocols. Could you put the president on?"

Mark scrambled on to the line. "Tyler, I had the most spectacular vision!"

"What the hell happened with your eye?" I asked.

"I don't know…the doctors said this sort of thing just happens. I don't like that answer either, but what are you going to do?"

"So, you had some sort of hallucination while your eye was bleeding?"

"No, no," Mark said, much more soberly, "Nothing like that. Although, everything did have a slight red cast to it."

"Like looking at the world through rose colored glasses?" I asked.

"Point one for you," Mark said. "No, but I got to thinking about what I have to do in the days leading up to my presidential victory. I have to emulate Arnold Schwartzenegger."

I shuddered and sighed.

"Hear me out," Mark said. "Wait, let me just get in to character…ahem…mmmmmmmmmm…"

Karl hopped on the line while Mark meditated or did whatever the hell he was doing. "You're gonna love this!" he bellowed. "He was doing this for hours in the emergency room. The nurses were just about dying!"

Suddenly a deep Austrian-sounding voice boomed from behind Karl. "Give me die phone, you reprobaaaate!" All of a sudden, I was talking to Governor Ahnold himself, or an extremely believable facsimile thereof. "Hallo, I am die Gov-ah-norr of Califforneeah, Ahnold Schwartzenegger."

I sighed. "It's three in the A.M., Mark…"

"Silence! Did I say you could talk? Ja? I am die Governator…formerly die Terminator…and once upon die time, die Fornicator! Hah Hah! Ja!"

"I'm glad your eye is not falling out or anything Mark, but…"

Mark said in his normal voice, "Come on, Tyler, you're already awake. Just go with it for a minute, huh?"

I sighed again. "Fine. And how are we today, Mr. Governor?"

"Wir sind very excited! Very very excited. It is good to know dat I am in control of die fifth largest economy in das Vorld! I am preparing to fix the California-economic-problemen over die next few months."

"Uhh…" I said, "Yes, I heard that you have Warren Buffett as your economic advisor."

"Ja," Mark continued. "I have hired die man who wrote die 'Margaritaville' to provide me with das economic-advisen."

"Ah, Mr. Governor," I continued, "Didn't you hire Warren Buffett, the world's most famous investor, as your counsel, not Jimmy Buffett, the songwriter?"

"Ja, Mr. Buffett also wrote 'Cheeseburger in Paradise' and 'Vhy don't ve go get Drunk und Screw'! Ja! Dat von ist my favorite."

"Well…how are you faring after the mudslinging campaign of the last few days of the recall?" I asked.

Mark paused a moment. "Dere vere so many of the hurtful thingen that vere said during those last few days, ja? Die things about my boobie-gropen-history und my vater."

"Your father?"

"Ja, meinen vater."

"Is it true that he was a Nazi?"

"You know, there were so many twisted lies about him. All that he was was a common man with an interest in body-building and inventions."

"Inventions?"

"Ja! He created an early proto-type of the vonder-bra."

"Really?" I asked. "I thought that was a fairly recent invention."

"Vell, in die open market, ja, but he created something quite similar in the fifties. He called it die gestoppen-floppen."

"The what?" I asked, laughing.

"Die gestoppen-floppen. It was pretty much die same thing, but you know, the name kind of sucked, and he had no idea how to market it."

"Ahem…well, Mr. Governor, you have so many famous film lines - 'I'll be back', 'Hasta la Vista, Baby', 'I lied', and so on.

Are there any other actors who got better lines in films than you? Any lines you wished you'd had?"

"Ja! Most certainly. In Cyborg-2, a bad knock-off of Bladerunner and Terminator, Jack Palance, a fellow European, had a great one. It is very deep and philosophical, I think."

"What's that?"

"Ahem, it vas… 'If you're going to dine with the devil, you'd better bring a long spoon.'"

"What?"

"I said, 'If you're going to..'"

"Mark," I said, breaking the bizarre version of The Two Thousand Year Old Man improve we'd just developed, "I gotta go to bed."

"Bring a long spoon," he warned in Arnold's voice.

"Bring an eyepatch, chief. If anything happens to you, we've got Karl on our hands."

Mark paused and spoke in his own voice. "I'll wear the Kevlar vest to bed, buddy. Don't you worry."

THE MARK HUGO ARCHIVE
The Article That Started it All - Mark's Gubernatorial Campaign Announcement.

Bad Night in The Bunker - Strategy Gone Awry.

Strike A Pose - Image Consultancy in the Post-Carville Era.

An All Time Low.

A Tape Transcript.

Mark's Gubernatorial Concession Speech.

The Beginnings of Mark's Presidential Campaign.

Angry Sports, Elmer Gantry, and Freedom Fries.

Orange Alert, Again.

Mermaid Parade Invitational.

American Idols.

The First Parade.

Independence Day.

California Dreamin'.

Where Do You Go When the Lights Go Out?.

Please email your support and suggestions to: tyler@greathoboes.com. Remember, vote early, and vote often!

Tyler M. Carey
Publisher and Editor-in-Chief, The Great Hoboes of New York
Apparent Campaign Manager, Mark Hugo for President '04 Campaign