Gather 'round, kiddos! We've got a choice for afternoon activity. Softball with Pete or Arts and Crafts with Bianca. If you want softball, raise your hand. Hands down. Arts and Crafts, raise your hand. Anyone? Well, okay, don't cheer yet. That was a preliminary vote to see where everyone stands on the issue.
Now, we've got all of Rest Hour to make this decision. As your counselor, your friend and your mentor, I urge you to reconsider. Softball is fine for the brutes over in Cabin 9, but Arts and Crafts is a far more suitable, even noble, pastime for young men such as yourselves. Especially under Bianca's tutelage! She's so talented, and considerate Gentle. Pretty. Like a delicate daffodil swaying in the breeze.
You know, if you guys would have a little more respect for Arts and Crafts, people might take us more seriously as a cabin. Remember that first day of camp when you were working on macaroni necklaces? I leaned over to Bianca and whispered seductively in her ear that I'd like to give her a pearl necklace. Playful yet sensual. The perfect opening line. But she turned her head away from the table so she wouldn't have to look at your pathetic excuses for macaroni-based artwork! Yes, yours too, Evan. Don't think because you ate most of your macaroni pieces that you're off the hook. What, were those 4 hot dogs you had at lunch not enough for you, little piggy? Huh?
The same thing happened when I offered to share a seat on the bus with her. As I was explaining that we would have to sit in the front of the bus because I suffer from debilitating motion sickness, there you were, Alex, right in her eye-line, working on your friendship bracelet, like a retarded turtle but with less dexterity. Of course she said "In your dreams" to me and got on another bus. How could she possibly trust me when my own campers can't even master a simple pretzel knot? In my dreams indeed!
And yesterday, when I extended an invitation to the All-Camp Social, she informed me that she would be attending with Rob from Cabin 12. Now, I know what you're all thinking. What does Rob have that I don't? No Geoffrey, not chest hair. And we've all seen you changing for Swim, Mr. Hairless Weinie, so I wouldn't talk. The answer is, Rob has campers whose dreamcatchers don't look like an ostrich threw up on a popsicle stick. Don't even get me started on your lanyards. Barrel stitch? More like barf-el stitch! And you, Rodney. Sticking beads up your nose? That kind of attitude brings shame to the tribe. It's no wonder your dad left.
So we've got a choice to make, Warriors. Are we going to give up and go to Softball, or are we going to rise to the challenge? Are we going to run around like a bunch of sissies, or are we going to man up and make a badass crayon mural and show Bianca what we're made of? Warriors?
Fine. We'll leave for Softball in 10. You kids are a disgrace. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if I don't get a date all summer.