Rabble rousing is not as deprecated as it once was, it having been discovered that rabbles are good for nothing else but to be roused and roused further. At the point of ultimate rabble rousertude they become hurrahbles.
The old spirits in the desert thrive off of the pain and desolation they are capable of causing when they inhabit human forms. They are almost impossible to locate or pinpoint, are impossible to catch without luck and God on one's side, and can not be killed by anything the average human has knowledge of.
"What is that?"
"I don't know, but whatever it is sucks at being whatever it's not."
"Maybe it didn't know what it was."
"That's hard to believe. Look at that grotesque -- what is that? And the color... it's like vomit mixed with blood."
"Okay, Okay, no need to study it. Let's just get it out of sight somewhere."
"You mean touch it?"
"Yes, I mean grab it and bring it with us."
"I had the sinking feeling." Moves to grab hold of thing, "It'salive!"
"Hit it with something! Kick it!"
Both men commence to kicking and beating barely moving corpse.
Suddenly it reared up its head and shouted, "WTF?"
"It's a drunk! Run before it gets our change!"
Both men exeunt stage right.