"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.
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.
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!"
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!"
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