EPISODE 1: Are You Kidding Me?!?!?!?!?!?
Bullethead stumbled into his office for the first time in 6 months or so, he couldn't remember. He'd been on a bender ever since his private jet had rotated off the runway back in Nicotina at the end of the Quarantine Island project, as his mercenaries were barely keeping the Dictator's Guards regiment off the runway. If any SAMs were going to chase him over the horizon, he'd wanted to be drunk when they hit. After that, it was all a blur. Acuña, Tijuana, Olongaopo, Pattaya Beach, he'd lost track. And several other important things. Somebody would pay for this! Oh yeah, that would be himself, boss of Bullethead Sweatshop Industries. And the Dictator of Nicotina, to get his park working again after the airstrikes. Calling those in was Bullethead's last clear thought in who know's how long? He snickered at this happy memory.
He looked at his desk. It was buried under half a ton of paper and covered in cobwebs. "Mi mas rausim haus bilong spaida," he thought, then wondered where he'd picked that up that turn of phrase. Papua-New Guinea was as good a guess as any. Oh well, best to roll with it as this was his first coherent thought in seemingly forever. But "rausim haus bilong spaida" made Bullethead spend several minutes trying to do just that to his mind, clearing the cobwebs. Eventually, he remembered he had subordinates who were supposed to keep his desk clear. What were their names? How to summon them? Bullethead's eye fell on an empty bourbon bottle in a corner, then to the heavily scarred and dented area of the wall right above. Oh yeah, that was how. He picked up the bottle and banged it on the damaged part of the wall as hard as his hangover allowed.
Immediately, there was a scuffle of shuffling feet outside the office and then the strange, oblong, and greenish visage of Jaysef looked in cautiously around the door with an expression of glum cheerfullness or cheerful glumness, Bullethead wasn't sure which.
"Husat?" demanded Bullethead, brandishing the empty bourbon bottle.
"Sir, it is I, Jaysef, at your service, Sir! Good to see you back from your vacation, Sir. You're looking.... like you had a very good time, Sir!"
"Yu toktok wanem? Yu klinim ofis bilong mi nau, o mi paitim yu long het bilong yu long dispela botol!", said Bullethead as he brandished the bottle threatenling, all the while wondering what the Hell he was saying.
Jaysef sighed but still said "Yes, Sir! At once, Sir! Let me get some help, though, Sir." With that, he withdrew. A moment later, Bullethead heard the scuffling of many feet and numerous indistinct but imperative whispers outside his office. After a minute, Jaysef's strange head reappeared around the corner of Bullethead's office door. "Still feeling chipper, Sir?", he said.
"Yu rausim haus bilong spaida nau!" demanded Bullethead, waving the bottle wildly and pointing at his desk.
"As you wish, Sir," replied Jaysef cheefully, and then he withdrew again. An instant later, Bullethead's office door was smashed open by a gang of BSI security goons in full riot gear. They stormed in, tackled Bullethead, and inserted several IVs of proprietary substances into his veins. In due time, Bullethead's struggles ceased and, after a brief intermission, he returned to his normal, but not usual, self.
*********************
"So olgeta dispela, em i wanem samting?----er, I mean, what's all this, then?" asked Bullethead as he sipped his 3rd cup of coffee after his recovery. "Why can't you all take a vacation at the same time I do?"
"Well, Sir," replied Jaysef, "there was some difficulty between the Swiss and Bahamian banks involved so the Dictator's last payment for Quarantine Island was hung up for a while. It's cleared now but in the meantime, we had to scrounge for cashflow. In your absence, I took the liberty of accepting a new job. This pile of paper is just informational stuff. Nothing needs your signature."
"So, we're going to some paradisical tourist destination this time, right?"
"I'm afraid not, Sir. We're not exactly a high-profile firm. So I'm afraid we're once again bound for 'a pestilential tropical Hellhole with a despotic government and no economy to speak of', as you said at the beginning of the Quarantine Island project."
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?"
"I'm afraid not, Sir. However, on the plus side, that's just the setting we're trying to reproduce. We'll actually be working in some remote and nameless place in a country that doesn't have an extradition treaty with the US. Our client has... um... retired.... there but wants to recreate a portion of the land of his birth, the part that gave him the most joy. Of course, the actual setting isn't much different, except it's a bit less despotic, a bit less tropical, and has a bit more of an economy. We'll be ignoring all that for construction purposes, though."
"Mi ken---I mean, I can hardly wait. So what are we doing, specifically?"
"Well, Sir, we're going to recreate a place called Dixie Landin' and, if things work out, its tragically conjoined twin, Blue Bayou. These 2 parks in 1 are located on the outskirts of Baton Rouge, LA in real life but we'll be bringing this 'little slice of heaven' to another land that previously had no hope of enjoying such things."
"Oh bloody Hell," said Bullethead. "Where did I stash my booze in here? Oh yeah. OK, let's have a drink while you tell me about this project."
*************************
"well, Sir," Jaysef began as he rummaged around for the appropriate pictures, "to make an accurate model of the real place, the 1st requirement was to make sure it faced the same direction as the original, so the shadows would fall in the right directions at the right times. To this end, after clearing the site, we built a sundial to determine the direction true north, adjusted for Daylight Savings Time, as this park is only open in the summer.

"Having done this," Jaysef continued, "we laid out the general perimeter of the park oriented to the direction of true north. The real thing in sandwiched between I-10, Highland Rd, and Perkins Rd."

"This is just a placeholder showing where the peeps will arrive. The arch is a peep-spawner, in case you've never seen one. It's there to pretend to welcome the peeps as they get off the bus."

Jaysef showed another photo. "Thus, however, is not a placeholder. It's replica of of the actual park admissions building that greets the customers as they make their way across the parking lot or arrive by tour bus."

"From the admissions building, the customers will access the park via a narrow, rusty bridge across Highland Rd. The same narrow bridge is used by customers going home. There is unlikely to be much of a traffic jam on this bridge. It's surrounded by chain link fencing to deter suicidal customers from jumping into the traffic on Highland Rd, a 6-lane state highway."


"After crossing Highland Rd., the customers will see the park office building. Here you can buy a season pass, as opposed to a priority pass. But 1 price of admission covers both the Dixie Landin' amusement (not theme) park and the conjoined Blue Bayou water park. Again, this is not a placeholder."


"And here's an overview of the start of this project," Jaysef concluded. "The red lines are the APPROXIMATE boundaries we're working in. We've also got some of the initial rides in place, although the 'Screaminator' is about twice as high as the original. There are also 2 of the 4 coasters in the park, one each for adults and kids. On the Perkins Rd. side there will be a kid-oriented area with a number of tiny rides under a pole barn, plus a Model T driving track."

Bullethead took another drink and twirled his moustaches idly. At last he spoke. "Orait---er, I mean 'OK'... We're committed I guess, so it has to be. I must have lost a bet to @JPalmighT or something while I was drunk. But I understand he has a bunch of kiddie rides we can steal---er, I mean 'use'. And I take it the coasters are off-the-shelf things, right? OK, this will have to do until we get some real business. Carry on."
Lukim yu long narapela taim---Er, I mean, 'See you next time".
Bullethead stumbled into his office for the first time in 6 months or so, he couldn't remember. He'd been on a bender ever since his private jet had rotated off the runway back in Nicotina at the end of the Quarantine Island project, as his mercenaries were barely keeping the Dictator's Guards regiment off the runway. If any SAMs were going to chase him over the horizon, he'd wanted to be drunk when they hit. After that, it was all a blur. Acuña, Tijuana, Olongaopo, Pattaya Beach, he'd lost track. And several other important things. Somebody would pay for this! Oh yeah, that would be himself, boss of Bullethead Sweatshop Industries. And the Dictator of Nicotina, to get his park working again after the airstrikes. Calling those in was Bullethead's last clear thought in who know's how long? He snickered at this happy memory.
He looked at his desk. It was buried under half a ton of paper and covered in cobwebs. "Mi mas rausim haus bilong spaida," he thought, then wondered where he'd picked that up that turn of phrase. Papua-New Guinea was as good a guess as any. Oh well, best to roll with it as this was his first coherent thought in seemingly forever. But "rausim haus bilong spaida" made Bullethead spend several minutes trying to do just that to his mind, clearing the cobwebs. Eventually, he remembered he had subordinates who were supposed to keep his desk clear. What were their names? How to summon them? Bullethead's eye fell on an empty bourbon bottle in a corner, then to the heavily scarred and dented area of the wall right above. Oh yeah, that was how. He picked up the bottle and banged it on the damaged part of the wall as hard as his hangover allowed.
Immediately, there was a scuffle of shuffling feet outside the office and then the strange, oblong, and greenish visage of Jaysef looked in cautiously around the door with an expression of glum cheerfullness or cheerful glumness, Bullethead wasn't sure which.
"Husat?" demanded Bullethead, brandishing the empty bourbon bottle.
"Sir, it is I, Jaysef, at your service, Sir! Good to see you back from your vacation, Sir. You're looking.... like you had a very good time, Sir!"
"Yu toktok wanem? Yu klinim ofis bilong mi nau, o mi paitim yu long het bilong yu long dispela botol!", said Bullethead as he brandished the bottle threatenling, all the while wondering what the Hell he was saying.
Jaysef sighed but still said "Yes, Sir! At once, Sir! Let me get some help, though, Sir." With that, he withdrew. A moment later, Bullethead heard the scuffling of many feet and numerous indistinct but imperative whispers outside his office. After a minute, Jaysef's strange head reappeared around the corner of Bullethead's office door. "Still feeling chipper, Sir?", he said.
"Yu rausim haus bilong spaida nau!" demanded Bullethead, waving the bottle wildly and pointing at his desk.
"As you wish, Sir," replied Jaysef cheefully, and then he withdrew again. An instant later, Bullethead's office door was smashed open by a gang of BSI security goons in full riot gear. They stormed in, tackled Bullethead, and inserted several IVs of proprietary substances into his veins. In due time, Bullethead's struggles ceased and, after a brief intermission, he returned to his normal, but not usual, self.
*********************
"So olgeta dispela, em i wanem samting?----er, I mean, what's all this, then?" asked Bullethead as he sipped his 3rd cup of coffee after his recovery. "Why can't you all take a vacation at the same time I do?"
"Well, Sir," replied Jaysef, "there was some difficulty between the Swiss and Bahamian banks involved so the Dictator's last payment for Quarantine Island was hung up for a while. It's cleared now but in the meantime, we had to scrounge for cashflow. In your absence, I took the liberty of accepting a new job. This pile of paper is just informational stuff. Nothing needs your signature."
"So, we're going to some paradisical tourist destination this time, right?"
"I'm afraid not, Sir. We're not exactly a high-profile firm. So I'm afraid we're once again bound for 'a pestilential tropical Hellhole with a despotic government and no economy to speak of', as you said at the beginning of the Quarantine Island project."
"ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!?"
"I'm afraid not, Sir. However, on the plus side, that's just the setting we're trying to reproduce. We'll actually be working in some remote and nameless place in a country that doesn't have an extradition treaty with the US. Our client has... um... retired.... there but wants to recreate a portion of the land of his birth, the part that gave him the most joy. Of course, the actual setting isn't much different, except it's a bit less despotic, a bit less tropical, and has a bit more of an economy. We'll be ignoring all that for construction purposes, though."
"Mi ken---I mean, I can hardly wait. So what are we doing, specifically?"
"Well, Sir, we're going to recreate a place called Dixie Landin' and, if things work out, its tragically conjoined twin, Blue Bayou. These 2 parks in 1 are located on the outskirts of Baton Rouge, LA in real life but we'll be bringing this 'little slice of heaven' to another land that previously had no hope of enjoying such things."
"Oh bloody Hell," said Bullethead. "Where did I stash my booze in here? Oh yeah. OK, let's have a drink while you tell me about this project."
*************************
"well, Sir," Jaysef began as he rummaged around for the appropriate pictures, "to make an accurate model of the real place, the 1st requirement was to make sure it faced the same direction as the original, so the shadows would fall in the right directions at the right times. To this end, after clearing the site, we built a sundial to determine the direction true north, adjusted for Daylight Savings Time, as this park is only open in the summer.

"Having done this," Jaysef continued, "we laid out the general perimeter of the park oriented to the direction of true north. The real thing in sandwiched between I-10, Highland Rd, and Perkins Rd."

"This is just a placeholder showing where the peeps will arrive. The arch is a peep-spawner, in case you've never seen one. It's there to pretend to welcome the peeps as they get off the bus."

Jaysef showed another photo. "Thus, however, is not a placeholder. It's replica of of the actual park admissions building that greets the customers as they make their way across the parking lot or arrive by tour bus."

"From the admissions building, the customers will access the park via a narrow, rusty bridge across Highland Rd. The same narrow bridge is used by customers going home. There is unlikely to be much of a traffic jam on this bridge. It's surrounded by chain link fencing to deter suicidal customers from jumping into the traffic on Highland Rd, a 6-lane state highway."


"After crossing Highland Rd., the customers will see the park office building. Here you can buy a season pass, as opposed to a priority pass. But 1 price of admission covers both the Dixie Landin' amusement (not theme) park and the conjoined Blue Bayou water park. Again, this is not a placeholder."


"And here's an overview of the start of this project," Jaysef concluded. "The red lines are the APPROXIMATE boundaries we're working in. We've also got some of the initial rides in place, although the 'Screaminator' is about twice as high as the original. There are also 2 of the 4 coasters in the park, one each for adults and kids. On the Perkins Rd. side there will be a kid-oriented area with a number of tiny rides under a pole barn, plus a Model T driving track."

Bullethead took another drink and twirled his moustaches idly. At last he spoke. "Orait---er, I mean 'OK'... We're committed I guess, so it has to be. I must have lost a bet to @JPalmighT or something while I was drunk. But I understand he has a bunch of kiddie rides we can steal---er, I mean 'use'. And I take it the coasters are off-the-shelf things, right? OK, this will have to do until we get some real business. Carry on."
Lukim yu long narapela taim---Er, I mean, 'See you next time".