Camoflunks - S1 - Issue 4: Seeing Double!

Jeffrey Harty trudges through the forest, leaning heavily on a branch he's made into a walking stick. He has been doing this for two days straight, ever since the battle. While he and his teammates were walking back to the camp, he stopped to retie his boots and when he finished, everyone else had left him behind.

"It's a darn good thing I brought sandwiches in case this happened or else I would've ended up eating berries, again!" He grumbles as he steps over the same log for about the third time this morning.

"From now on, whenever I go someplace where I can get lost easily, I'll tie a rope between me and anyone with a sense of direction."

He'd tried following the paths. The way they always split off and twisted was bad enough, but the fact that he didn't know which direction the camp was in or which way he was facing at that moment made things even more confusing.

Jeff freezes. In the distance he hears a really bad rendition of "Yankee Doodle" being played on a trumpet and he smiles, "Saved by the bell, and when I say 'bell', I mean 'trumpet'. And when I say 'saved', I mean, well... saved."

He shrugs and follows the sound to the fence and climbs over.

During breakfast at the cafeteria, Leo asks Mark, "So, why is it that the Blue cabins seem to have free reign to use any kind of weapon, whenever they want?"

Mark raises his voice to be heard over the noise coming from the Green cabins' table, as Jeff steps through the door.

"Simple. Shortly after he became leader, Mo convinced Coach that he was arranging a sort of camp security group and Coach agreed, on one condition. Should anyone need to borrow weapons, they have to supply the ammunition themselves and they have to return it before a battle takes place."

"Security?! What a load of bologna!" Rod says.

"His excuse was that they'd take care of any animal problems and make sure that nobody broke the camp rules."

"Since then, those who dwell in the Blue cabins have become even less desirable company than the troublemakers in the Yellow cabins," says an eerie voice from under the table.

Everyone at the table simultaneously looks underneath, except Mark, who says, "Shawn, what are you doing under there, this time?

"Aliens are trying to contact me through morse code by making one of the overhead lights buzz and it's giving me a headache!"

Nobody pays any mind to it, except Leo, who looks up and sure enough, one of the lights is blinking, not that Leo can tell if it's doing it in code or not.

Leo asks, "The Yellow cabins? Troublemakers?"

"If you hadn't noticed, those fellows en las barracas amarillas consist mostly of muscle-heads and pranksters," says a guy with his dark-brown hair in a ponytail, wearing loose gray jeans, cowboy boots and a dark-red long-sleeve shirt, buttoned up all the way, with the collar turned up.

"Who are you?" Rod asks.

"My name is Edward Velez, amigo. That backstabber, Carlos, is my older brother."

Everyone finishes breakfast and heads back to their own cabins. Before he steps out, Mark takes a quick look at the malfunctioning light.

".. ... | .- -. -.-- --- -. . | --- ..- - | - .... . .-. ." (Is anyone out there?)

He blinks in surprise and looks around to see if anyone else saw. No one else is there anymore.  He shrugs and shakes his head, then jogs to catch up with everyone.

By the time he does, they're almost to the cabins, and Edward, amid everyone snickering, is saying in a very monotone voice, "There is no theory of evolution, just a list of animals Chuck Norris has allowed to live."

At that, everyone bursts into fits of laughter.

"And that's why they call me Eddie 'Deadpan' Velez!"

"How do you keep from cracking up?" Shawn asks.

"Years of practice, hombre."

Suddenly, one of the guys says, "DUCK!"

Shawn pulls out a switchblade and asks, "Where?!"

"No! Duck for cover! It's Sam and Eric!"

Everyone scrambles to get out of the way, as two fourteen year-old's, holding on to each other's feet to form a human wheel, roll in. They spring apart and land on their feet, laughing in an amused fashion the whole time.

In appearance, the two of them seem to be absolutely identical in every way, the same white tank tops, blue-jeans, heelies, the same bleach blond hair, blue eyes, freckles, and an all around jock-ish, pretty-boy, look about them, they even wear their yellow armbands, as headbands instead. The only way one can tell them apart, is that they have their names written on their "headbands" in marker.

"Sheesh Sam, did you see the way they ran for it? Almost as if..."

"...they don't like us very much." Sam finishes, both of them speaking sarcastically with smug grins on their faces.

Sam says, "One has to wonder..."

Eric picks up, "...why that could be?"

Then Sam picks up one end of a string, they glance at it and their smiles go from smug to maniacal and they both say, "Oh! That's right!"

Sam tugs it and they go cartwheeling off out of sight, laughing mockingly. A small catapult, hidden behind a bush, tosses a bucketful of rotten eggs at the cabins.



"Those two, are the worst twins in the whole history of twins!" Rod says loud enough that anyone else using the showers can hear him.

"With all these interruptions to deal with, how are we supposed to do anything about Mo?" Leo asks from inside one of the other showers.

While running a towel through his hair, Mark says, "Simple, we set a trap. Mo slips up, and we make sure that Coach is there to see it."

As he's rinsing his hair, Leo dramatically stares into the distance and says, "Sounds like fun. So what's the plan?"

Mark replies, "Give me 'til tomorrow and I'll probably have something."

"You mean, you don't even know what we're going to do yet?" Rod asks.

Mark grins at his reflection in the mirror and says, "Nope! Oh, and Shawn?"

"Yes?"

"How did you convince Coach to let you keep that switchblade?"



Meanwhile, over at the Blue cabins.

Everyone is trying to dodge an unexpected volley of rotten eggs. One lands on Mo's hat and he starts shouting, "Whoever did this is a @$!6^*$#* ing *&7#%@3@+ lorinipsum =#^@1^!^@*&$*9#!?=~ abnivinium $^\}&@4*$9^@ tlllagulaf *~7<^$#%![2`^# hippopotamus *$^&@:#*%^ republican []*&8#^%4*&#%** with Daniel Radcliffe }*$^*_+$&^@?5!/|<*$%> and a bucket of }*$^6#?<!5%#$=2&* in a castle, far away, where no one can hear you }3^*@&^!@+/)7%#} soup {(#^@*%>!$*** with a bucket of +*^@%$!?~?<><* Mickey Mouse *#*^9^&!@6^/* a stick of dynamite *!&$9^@^$#?0{*%# magical %!*2%&#@%?/"+* alakazam!"

Everyone present stares at Mo like he recently escaped from a psych ward, and then try to make it look like they weren't staring when he notices.

"Alright, did anyone see who did it?" Mo asks.  Everyone shakes their heads in unison.

"Nobody?! Hmm... I'll bet it was Mark, that wise-guy!" Mo growls in frustration and says, "This is it boys, this is war!"

Camoflunks - S1 - Issue 3: Bluefellas

Rod wakes with a start, as Coach begins to play Reveille on his trumpet, rather badly and loud enough for the whole camp to hear. Rod had been lucky enough to be spared the rude awakening yesterday, since Mark had gently woken him up before Coach started practicing, which Coach apparently does every morning. So far as anyone knows, he hasn't ever gotten better.

After getting dressed and stopping by the cafeteria, Rod and the rest of the Reds start running the obstacle course. While quickly stepping through the tires laid on the ground, Rod asks Mark, "So we have to do this every day?"

"Pretty much."

"Is there any way we could not do it?"

"Only if you're sick, doing chores or Jeffrey Harty after an excursion out back." Mark finishes saying while pointing in the direction of the Battlefield.

With a confused look, Rod asks, "Speaking of Jeff, where is he? I didn't see him at breakfast... In fact, I haven't seen him at all since yesterday. Did he get abducted by aliens or something?"

As they're climbing over a wall with a knotted rope, Mark explains, "Jeffrey Harty probably has the worst sense of direction the world has ever known. He can't find his way anywhere, even with a path right under his feet. Chances are, that after the battle yesterday, he was separated from everyone else and got lost,  again!"

"Shouldn't we be looking for him then?"

"Nah. Every time this happens, he always manages to find his way back, albeit with a few bumps and bruises and in real need of a bath, but he comes back nonetheless."

They get down the other side of the wall and start vaulting, with one hand, over picnic tables, Rod none too successfully. Upon finishing, they get to the last obstacle, where they have to swing over mud (for some reason). Mark makes it across easily, whereas Rod ends up dragging his feet through the mire.

As they head toward the cafeteria for lunch, Mark sees movement behind a cluster of trees and brush. Mark puts a hand on Rod's shoulder and he raises a finger in front of his mouth and motions with his head in the direction of the trees. They crouch and sneak over. Peering from behind a bush, they see a kid, about twelve years old, with a yellow armband, surrounded by teenagers with blue. Among the blues is Mo and one of the others is holding a "Squirrel V.52" handgun.

"We can either do this the easy...", Mo manages to say just before the kid pulls out his wallet and hands him a stack of rectangular pieces of camouflage colored paper with pictures of acorns on the front (camobucks). Mo looks down at it in surprise and says, "Well that was easy." And after taking it, begins saying, "Remember now..."

"If I spill my guts, you know where I live. Got it!", the yellow cabiner says quickly and runs off, occasionally tossing back nervous glances, in case they decide to chase him.

"It ain't fun when they finish your sentences for ya!" Mo says with an agitated look on his face. The other three stand there with blank faces, staring at the ground and nodding in agreement.

"What? You just gonna stand there wit' them dumb looks on your faces? Get goin', com'on, com'on! Move it!"

They all snap out of it and start running back toward the blue cabins, trying to avoid the kicks that Mo aims at their shins.

Once they're out of sight, Mark and Rod rise from their hiding place. Rod says, "Man, I wish we could've stopped 'em!"

Mark holds up a camera.

"This good enough for you?"

Rod gets a smug grin on his face, "You, Sir, are awesome!"

Mark looks through the pictures and says, "Finally nailed you, Mo."

At the cafeteria, the whole red cabin table is abuzz in no time after Mark starts showing around his pictures of Mo caught in the act. Leo asks Mark, "What it is that Mo's been doing?"

"For the past few years, he's been robbing everyone he can manage to corner, even members of the blue cabins, any that haven't joined his mob yet. Some say he even has members of other cabins in his little mafia."

While everyone else is looking at the pictures, a guy wearing a red armband breaks away from the group and sneaks over to the blue cabin table.

"Well, if it isn't the self proclaimed 'Ladies Man'.What is it Carl?" Mo asks the fifteen year-old, Spanish kid with a mullet, wearing skinny jeans and a jacket, unbuttoned to let his muscular chest show.

"For the last time, my name is Carlos, Sir, and it seems you didn't come away completely clean when you robbed the yellow cabin punk."

"How do you know about that?" Mo turns his attention to the three goons closest to him, "Which one of you's been blabbing about it?!"

Carlos says, "Mark was watching you do it and took pictures."

"Dang it!" Mo nearly shouts, then looks around to see if anyone heard. Soon he focuses his attention back on Carlos and whispers, "Carlos, I need you to get those pictures away from him before it's too late."

"Yes, Sir!" And Carlos slinks back over to the red cabin table.

Beatrice, one of the lunch-ladies, rings a bell and says, "Alright, lunch time's over. Everyone finish up and go about your business."

As they're leaving the cafeteria, Rod asks Mark, "So what happens when you tell Coach about Mo?"

"His leadership of the blue cabins will be revoked and they'll elect a new guy. Mo will spend the next few weeks mopping the cafeteria and cleaning the outhouses. The camobucks the blue cabins have will be equally divided among the other cabins, too."

Suddenly, Leo drops on his knees and starts groaning, "I don't feel so good."

Rod kneels beside him and sees how pale he is, making his one mole, on his chin, even more prominent. Mark and Rod help Leo up, then Shawn walks over, "Hey, you look like you've had a little too much mystery meat!"

Leo asks, "Is that what it was?"

Mark says, "We gotta get him to the nurse's office. Shawn you can help."

The three of them carry Leo to the nurse's office and just as they approach the steps, a voice behind them says, "I'll get the door, Amigos."

Mark replies, "Thanks, Carlos."

Carlos opens the door and they haul Leo through and put him on the table. Maggie, who was listening to Anna Blue on her MP3 player, stands up and asks, "What's wrong?"

Mark says, "I don't know. We were just at lunch. He ate an apple, some raw carrots and a ton of the mystery meat."

"Ptomaine poisoning, just great! Bad news is my Mom is at the Doctor's for a checkup. Good news is she mixed up something for this, just before she left." Maggie, half skips, half walks, over to a shelf and grabs a bottle, pops the top off and pours some of the liquid into the cover. While she's doing that, Carlos sneaks over to where Mark had carelessly put down his camera and snatches it.

Maggie says "Leo, Honey, you're gonna have to drink this... here." Leo swallows it and almost coughs it back up.

"He should be fine in about half an hour, but he'll need plenty of rest."

"Thanks, Maggs," Mark says. Carlos heads for the door and says, "Well, I have some business to take care of. See you all later!"

As Carlos passes Maggie she gives a yelp when he lightly spanks her and says with a smile, "Nice job Mejillas Dulces!"

Maggie's hand moves like lightning as she seizes the back of Carlos' mullet, puts on a bone-chilling smile and says in a scarily sweet tone, "Carlos, Honey, if you ever do that again, I swear, you'll get such a swift kick you-know-where that your voice won't stop squeaking, for a year."

Carlos, looking like he's either about to scream, or cry, says, "Si Senorita!!"

Maggie lets go, and Carlos runs like a pack of wolves is on his heels.

"Darn that pretty-boy!" Mark says.

Everyone looks at him and Shawn says, "Yeah nobody treats my future girlfriend that way!" He shakes his fist in the direction Carlos went.

Maggie asks, "And what makes you think I'm ever going to be your girlfriend?"

"Uuuuuuuuuuhhh..."

Mark interrupts by saying, "No, not that. Don Juan there just took my camera!"

Mark, Shawn and Rod, charge after the turncoat toward the Blue Cabins. They run straight through a large clump of trees and when they get to the other side...

*BUGUGUGUGUGUG!*

One of Mo's thugs is standing there with a Beehive V.85, firing at the ground in front of their feet and Carlos is handing the camera to Mo.

Shawn shouts at Carlos, "You Benedict Arnold! How long have you been plotting with General Clinton there?"

Carlos asks, "What, do you read up on American history every night before bed?"

"As a matter of fact... no."

Mo, chuckling the whole time, says, "Well Mark, *hee hee hee*, looks like I, *hee hee*, win again. Ha ha ha haaaa!" He then proceeds to press the "delete all" button and tosses the camera back to Mark.

Mark says as he turns to leave, "Until next time, Mo."

"Yeah yeah, next time, whatever." Mo says with a final chuckle and shuts the door of Blue Cabin One behind him.