Secret Gov't Slaughterhouse in Arizona Desert Uncovered!

BEEF CANYON, ARIZONA – Top Liberator journalist Hugh Jaynis recently infiltrated the Pentagon's top secret project lab in the remote Arizona desert, commonly known to the press underground simply as "The Slaughterhouse." Although we fear his subsequent death, Hugh's tattered diary was found outside of Beef Canyon city entombed In a pile of cow dung. Although mostly rotted beyond legibility, the Liberator staff was able to recover the following entries:

Day 1:

I have decided to approach the "Slaughterhouse" compound in disguise, perhaps as a common Holstein cow. I hope to enter through the main gate, passing by the guards while they sleep. Unfortunately, It has been rather difficult to make the disguise, for there are few cows roaming about wiId in the closert for me to capture and skin. I hope my plan succeeds.

Day 2:

I made a big mistake today by approaching the "Slaughterhouse" via the main personnel gate, which cows do not usually have access to. I was immediately apprehended and told "Bad Bessie! How did you get out of your pen?" I was immediately stuffed Into a rancid, defecation-filled room where cow corpses were abundant and maggot-infested. My own body odor does not make the situation any more favorable, and I have forgotten to bring along my own food. I am continually forced to eat Bovine Growth Hormone laced with Brazilian coca leaves which I believe have been seized by South American drug cartels. I fear my error may prove to be fatal.

Day 3:

I suddenly have begun feeling far better and full of energy. I can't seem to got enough of the wonderful food which I have been given by my captors. Wait! I'm beginning to feel so tired and hungry. I wish I didn't have to relieve myself so often inside this awful costume. I think I shall eat some more of the leaves that I have been given...

Day 4:

The time is approximately 6:42 a.m. We cows are being led down a long, dark tunnel as I write this. I smell the aroma of fresh blood as we travel further forward down the hall. Down further along the way I can see the shadow of a large, muscled-up man with what appears to be a massive ball-peen hammor. I can hear the cracks of snapping skull bones and splattering of cerebral fluid as I get closer. I fear the worst.

Day ???:

I awoke not long ago to find myself suspended from metal hooks piercing my ankles and keeping me attached to the walI. It is difficult writing upside-down in this condition. Blood is now dripping from my eyes and nose, and I have a big headache, screaming for Excederin ©. Not long ago I was approached by a tall, lanky, somewhat aged man. With a multitude of hand gestures, he explained that I would "never leave this complex alive" because it just "wouldn't be prudent to have this, you know, this cow thing in the press during the, you know, election thing." I am now placing this valuable journal in the rectum of another cow next to me, for I fear I shall never escape to the outside world again. This Is Hugh Jaynis saying, "good-bye, world."

Hugh Jaynis will remain in our hearts forever.