"Gather Round, Kids!"

A truly horrifying tale!

                                            

"Gather Round, Kids!"

 

     "Gather round, kids, I, as a your camp counselor, Skipper, want to tell you a ghost story that will make your hair stand on end, so terrifying is this tale, you'll be begging Momma to come get you, but she too has been sucked into this ogre's horrible sphere of fear. It starts,

 

     "There once was a man so egotistical, and so mean, that no one dared speak up about his dickness--err--I apologize kids, see Councilor Skipper  sometimes gets so caught up in this truly unbelievable shi--err--stuff, and swears like an adult. I truly care about this country's course, and--Bobby, I see that beer bong, hand it over! Now, where was I? Oh yes, he was so egotistical and mean, no one could believe he was a candidate for President of these United States. I--yes Kenny?"

 

     "You're already scaring me, can I go back to my tent?"

 

     "No sir, sit your a*s back down and let me finish, okay?"

 

     Kenny begins to whimper softly, and Counselor Skipper hears this. "You've got to be kidding? Alright, get lost, I'm not going to sit hear and listen to that s**t all night, puss-boy!"

 

     Kenny gratefully gets unsteadily to his feet and staggers away from the campfire.

 

     "Alright, anybody else want to be a puss?"

 

     No one else speaks up, they're too terrified of incurring Counselor Skipper's wrath.

 

     "Okay, I'll continue--so, anyway, this candidate seemed to appeal to people with no teeth, and the like. He lashes out at anyone who speaks out against him, just like the dick-bullies at your school. He basically dares anyone to call him what he is, an egotistical, racist moron in a clown suit. Only, this clown doesn't make people laugh, he frightens them--I guess you could call him a dick-clown, and do you know what makes this such a nightmarish tale? It's absolutely true! That's right kids, your parents aren't the responsible voters they make themselves out to be. No, I shudder to think of you futures if this joke gets anywhere close to the White House, on anything other than a tour bus--yes, I'd say your futures are all messed up, if they actually believe this slop-head, literally, is the way to go!"

 

     No one spoke in the flickering light of the campfire. After a couple of minutes, Councilor Skipper grabs the confiscated beer bong, and says,

 

     "Okay, kids, Councilor Skipper's too bummed out by his true horror story to talk anymore, so he's going back to his tent, and use this beer bong. He brought several 6-packs, and he wants to slam one to try to block out reality," and with that, staggers away from the campfire. The shell shocked kids are quiet until his weaving form disappears into the darkness, and after a couple more minutes, one says,

 

    "From the looks of him, as well as the sound, he's already well on his way to Drunk City. Now what do we do?"

 

     Another produces a deck of cards, passes out cigars, and says, "Anyone up for a game of poker?"

 

The End