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Staring at that lone
eyeball lying in the urinal, you become aware of two things: there's
something way strange going on here, and you're pissing on your shoes.
Oh shit! You quickly lift up your overly manhandled manhood to shake out
the last drops, wipe your shoes with some toilet paper, and get the hell
out of this bathroom. You don't even bother flushing or washing your
hands. Pacing through the cabin, it occurs to you that perhaps it was
just a hallucination, caused by the blood flowing into your penis for
the seventh time today. Yeah... sure. Right. Of course. Still, maybe
it'd be wise to talk to someone about this anyway. As you leave the
cabin, you bump into a jolly-looking, oversized boyscout.
"Oh!" he exclaims.
"Howdy and welcome to Camp Chopleton, kid! So, you're setting up camp in
Boys Bunk Six, eh? That's super. I'll be your bunk counselor this year.
Dick Boddy, that's me, your buddy! You can call me Dick, if you want. Or
Mister B!" At that, he cups his hands over his mouth and starts
repetitively spitting in his palms while swaying from side to side. You
look away awkwardly until he stops. "I just want you to know, you can
talk to me about anything. Drugs... religion... friendship...
love..." He wiggles his eyebrows while trying to poke you with his
elbow. "Why, you can even talk to me about - the S-E-X!" he hisses.
"That's great." you say. "Can I talk to you about the weird thing that
happened to me in the bathroom?"
"Oh-hoh-ho!" Boddy exclaims. "Now, I don't need to know about all that.
Just remember that you're gonna have to share this bunk with other
people, you know. Shake it once - shake it twice - dry it off and go
play nice, that's my motto."
"But-" you try, while he holds out a clipboard and a pen.
"Never you mind now, son, I'll take care of things. You just put down
your name right here and then you go and unpack."
Sighing, you sign your name and turn back to the cabin to unpack your
bag.
"Hey, now." Boddy says as he reads your name. "I've heard that name
before!"
You spin around in preparation for another account on what an animal
your mother is between the sheets. You're so sick of getting that at the
mall, the gas station and at church.
"Yeeeeaaah, now I remember." Boddy goes on. "Wasn't your uncle Theodore
here as a kid, twenty years ago?"
"I have no idea." you reply honestly, having never heard of any uncle
'Theodore.' "Was he?"
"Oh, he was. In fact, I'm pretty sure he was the first to d-" Boddy
halts, and his smile vanishes.
"First to d-?" you say. "Denominate? Domesticize? Dromedary? Develop
demonic delusions divulging the dispensing of demented destruction?"
"Um... Oh, look, a bird." He frantically points behind you, accompanied
with dramatic head movements, in an attempt to make you look around.
Finally, he gives up and recovers his grin, telling you: "Hey! How's
about you get your stuff unpacked, huh? I've got a lot more happy
campers to sign in!" Giving you a fruity little wave, he walks off,
mumbling "Everything's fine. Just fine. Juuuuuuuuust fiiiiiiiiine..."
What a wad. Well, back in the cabin, you pick one of the top bunks since
you're the only in here right now, and unpack your bags. It'll be a
while before everyone's settled in, so you've got some time to kill.
You decide to:
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