It was a beautiful day at Camp Huron
Lake as parents lined up just outside the camp’s gates eagerly awaiting
reunions with their children. Once the proverbial flood gates opened,
Jake’s mother, Elisa, ran to Bunk 11 with candy and bunk junk in hand. As
she reached the bunk porch, she was tackled by frothing-at-the-mouth Jake who
ravenously grabbed the candy tennis racquet, yelled “Gimme bitch!” He then retreated back inside the bunk like a
mouse scampering back into its hole while his mother lay semi-conscious in the
dirt under some damp towels on the outside lines.
Jake began to work on the racquet
handle made up of Gummi Bears and Gummi Worms. After polishing them off
in six minutes he started to work on the mini Three Musketeers on the shaft of
the racquet quickly devouring between fifteen and twenty bars. Just as
his mother began to regain consciousness, his father, Jon, arrived after
parking the car and feted him with a box of twenty-eight black and white
cookies spelling out “Camp Huron Lake.
We love you Jake!”
After thanking his father for the
cookies then quickly brushing him aside, Jake got back to work devouring the
licorice strings of the racquet then hastily munched on the outer edge adorned
with packages of Sour Patch Kids and Reese’s Pieces. Letting out some
foul-smelling anal acoustics, Jake then passed out on his bed in a two and a
half hour sugar-induced coma. While his father accompanied his mother to
the infirmary to check out his mother’s head wound and possible concussion,
Jake rested comfortably waiting to continue the candy onslaught.
The afternoon siesta ended as Jake woke
up from a horrible nightmare that Cap’n Crunch and Count Chocula were choking
him to death. Wasting no time once awake,
the ten year-old went to town on the cookies.
Unlike his childhood hero, Sesame Street’s Cookie Monster, Jake not only
chewed all twenty-eight cookies, but he actually swallowed and digested them
too. As his stomach growled and he
hunched over with sharp intestinal pains, the boy yelled out to everyone, “Everyone
out of the bunk!! You’ll thank me
later!!”, grabbed an Archie comic book and did a dead sprint to the first
bathroom stall.
A lengthy cleaning out of his bowels
led Jake to scarf down a one-pound package of Oreos and washed it down with a
six-pack of diet Mountain Dew. As
visiting day came to a close and Jake’s counselors were kindly ushering the
parents out of the bunk area, Jake let out a 115 decibel (approximately equal
to that of a rock concert) burp, vomited all over his bunkmate’s bed and the
surrounding floor, then passed out again. His
parents, witnessing this unfortunate event, quickly rushed to their car to
escape any responsibility. “We pay a lot
of money for him to go to this camp.
There’s no way I’m cleaning up after him. Hell, it wasn’t even his bed he yakked on,”
explained Jon as he jumped through the open window into the car leaving his
concussed wife in his dust. “It was still a better day than we expected.”
No comments:
Post a Comment