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From: NP-f31
Newsgroups: alt.fan.prettyboy
Subject: More Stories for Boys for Chad
Date: Sun, 13 Sep 2009 21:58:22 -0400
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Hey Chad,
Glad you liked the story, here is what happened next!
Love,
Doc
NP-f31
How Summer Camp Ruined Me - Part 2
The second week of Summer Day Camp didn't go as well as the first, and
I'll tell you, it nearly ruined me. On Monday, Tim and I found
ourselves in the trampoline room. We were having a good enough time,
but we were being spotted by the serious minded Head Camp Counselor
and his obnoxious teenaged son. The son's name was Dave and he didn't
like us, I don't think. It was something about the way he called us
'jackasses' that was the big tip off. I have to admit that we were
pretty cheeky, but I was under the impression that being cheeky was
expected behavior for boys at summer camp. Its okay that he didn't
like us, we weren't standing in line to join his fan club either.
In the middle of our bouncing, an aide came in and called away the
Head Counselor. He ordered us down off the trampoline and forbade us
from any more jumping until he returned. And so he left us alone in
the trampoline room with his oversized son. Now Tim and I were pretty
good sized boys for our age, but this guy Dave was a walrus. He was 14
and going to High School the next month. Overall he left us with the
impression that if all teenagers were like him, we'd just as soon skip
our teens and go straight to adulthood.
Now I've already admitted to be cheeky, but Tim, for some reason,
decided to take it the next level. I guess he figured if he was going
to be called a jackass, he might as well be one. So he started trash
talking and taunting Dave. I didn't understand his sudden interest in
suicide, but he was my best friend and I had his back, but I was
beginning to suspect that he wasn't as smart as I'd given him credit
for after all. As you might expect, Dave was not about to take
anything from a couple of jackasses and was soon informing us that he
was going to take us apart.
Tim looked at me with a sort of insane grin that I should have
recognized for what it was. "He's big, but we can take him," Tim
whispered, "Come on, there's two of us." It wasn't until much later
that we found out that he went on to become the Tri-State wrestling
champion in his weight division.
Within seconds he had us both helpless on the ground. He had me tucked
under one arm and Tim tucked under the other. What made it truly
horrible was that our faces were stuck in his armpits. That was my
rude introduction into the misfortunes of teenage body odor and armpit
hairs. The smell was truly wretched, clearly he had not been told
about the importance of deodorant, or the joys of good personal
hygiene. The overwhelming stench brought tears to my eyes. I heard Tim
gagging and spitting as he had apparently gotten a mouthful of armpit
hair. I was spared that horror thankfully. We were both ready to
surrender, but Dave didn't seem to be interested in demanding terms of
capitulation from us. All we got was, "How do you jackasses like
that?"
Neither jackass was of a mind to open his mouth to reply. I briefly
entertained the thought of checking to see if he was ticklish. I
thought better of it as he said, "Don't even think about trying to
tickle me!" Man, he was good, he could read minds too! Finally, after
perhaps considering how he was going to explain having two expired
children under his arms, he gave us a way out. "Admit you're
jackasses, and I'll let you go!" We quickly admitted to being
jackasses and he freed us as promised. We got up and ran, full tilt,
to the boys' restroom where we washed our faces repeatedly, taking
turns sniffing each other to make sure all traces of BO were gone. We
tended to avoid Dave for the rest of the week. But in our twisted
little minds we were planning our revenge.
There was an overnight camp out planned for the next to last day of
Camp, which was downright odd considering it was a Day Camp. We'd have
sleeping bags, a campfire, marshmallows, the whole works. Tim showed
me a pack of firecrackers that he was planning to set off at an
opportune moment. Tim had a real naughty streak, that's why I liked
him.
The night of the camp out came and we were all gathered around the
campfire. Dave's Dad was all over us. He was in a bad mood, probably
because he'd forgotten to bring the marshmallows. And if he wasn't
watching us like a hawk, his odiferous son was eyeing us jackasses
balefully. Finally I was able to distract them both by looking up at
the sky and asking if that particular constellation was the Hydra.
Both father and son looked in the direction I was pointing at the same
time. Tim casually tossed a couple of firecrackers into the fire. And
we each took a subtle step back. Dave's Dad dismissed my question by
saying, "No that's the constellation Orion." I already knew that, I
picked it out because it was way up high in the sky. Tim and I waited
for the imminent explosion, but it didn't come. Apparently the
firecrackers had landed on the ground in a section not surrounded by
fire. We waited and waited, figuring they were duds. When they
exploded, the timing couldn't have been any better. Dave had just
tossed something into the fire, I don't know what it was, but seconds
later "POW"! the first firecracker exploded.
It even scared Tim and me because we'd stopped expecting it. Dave's
Dad wheeled around and yelled accusingly, "Who put fireworks in the
campfire?" he was furious.
Tim, who could have won an acting award for his performance, pointed
at Dave and said, "I just saw him throw something in the fire."
Dave angrily turned on Tim. "I did not!" he growled.
"Yes, you did," I said with complete honesty, "I saw you too." Several
other kids confirmed our story.
Dave's Dad questioned him severely. And gave him the whole, 'I'm
disappointed in you' speech. Dave defended his honor rather meekly
when confronted by his Dad. "It was just a twig, Dad. I swear!" and he
turned his pockets out to show his Dad. "I don't have any fireworks,
see?"
It seemed to work, because Dave's Dad started speculating about cement
expanding until it exploded, or pine tar igniting. For some reason the
second firecracker hadn't exploded. So things died down after a bit.
We did notice however, that Dave kept glaring at Tim and me. Was he
planning a double murder?
We settled down into our sleeping bags a bit later and the campfire
burned low to embers. The grown ups went inside to play cards while
the kids whispered quietly to one another. Suddenly, the peacefulness
of the night was shattered by the explosion of the second firecracker.
A long line of kids in sleeping bags began to giggle.
The next day after breakfast we had a big softball game. I was serious
about softball. I loved it almost as much as I loved baseball. Tim and
I were on the same team and I batted second. I singled to right field
and was safe at first. Tim was up next. On the third pitch from Dave's
Dad, who was pitching for both teams, Tim hit a hard grounder down the
third base line. The boy at third made a nice grab and threw to
second. Now, as I'd said I took my softball seriously, so in an
attempt to break up a possible double play I slid hard, head first
into second. Not a good idea, for two reasons. First, we were playing
on the soccer field and so I was sliding into grassy clumps, not on
sand or dirt. Second, Elaine, the girl who was playing second base
stuck her foot directly out in front of me. I slid into her leg,
smashing my arm between her shin and my head. Ouch!
I got up and said, "Man, I think I broke my arm."
Elaine laughed and said, "I think you broke my leg."
I looked at my arm and said, "No, I really broke my arm, look!" My
left arm looked sort of like a candy cane. It was bent back at an
unnatural angle from the rest of my arm. "Yep, it's broke," I said.
Elaine and the kids closest to me went 'Eeeeewwwww' and got a bit
hysterical. Tim came running over and said, "You should have slid feet
first." When he got a look at my arm he said "Hey, that looks really
cool. Can you move you fingers?"
I was fine until tried to wiggle my fingers, then my arm started to
throb and I got a bit woozy. I politely asked, 'Is it okay if I go to
the hospital?' They had to finish the softball game without me. I
missed football season too, all because of a broken arm.
I tell you, Summer Day Camp nearly ruined me.
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