~the camping story of doom- Part Three!~
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Author's Note (June 22, 2001):
I'M BACK!!! *maniacal cackling echoes in the background*
It's been a while, hasn't it? No, I'm not dead.
Sorry. I really am... Didn't mean to disappoint you there. So, I'm back with another episode, which should be as good as the other two (sorry again) but I don't know, because I'm too lazy to write the author's note AFTER I write the story. Problems, problems...
Oh, and I know you've all commented on my creative spelling in the last chapter, sorry again. Too lazy to fix it. Just... ignore. Like I do.
And the best part of my author's note: The Song Clip of Doom.
"Because he loves you, cheeseburger, with all his heart,
And there ain't nothin' gonna tear you two apart,
And if the world suddenly ran out of cheese,
He would get down on his hands and knees
To see if someone accidentally dropped some cheese in the dirt
And he would wash it off for you,
Wipe it off for you,
Clean that dirty cheese off just for you!
You are his... cheeseburger..."
It's a clip from "His Cheeseburger," from Veggie Tales. I love that show WAY TOO MUCH.
Oh yeah.
Mooooooooo...
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Author's Note #2 (October 19, 2001):
I feel really dumb. I was just going through my hard drive and I realized that I had this. Upon further inspection, I realized that I hadn't posted this.
So I am.
I'm going to quote Marvin. I like Marvin. He's special. And, well, you see, I've gotten even more infatuated with The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy lately, and so, well, here is the quote.
"My first and only true friend was a small rat. One day, it crawled into a cavity in my right ankle and died. I have a horrible feeling it's still there."
Poor Marvin.
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Previously, on The Camping Story of Doom...
The twins threw up. Wolfwood had a nosebleed. It was Milly's fault. The author couldn't figure out how to spell 'androgynous' and is still not sure she has it right. She spell checked. She does. They got their cabin arrangements. Wolfwood's happy. Midvalley isn't. That's about it.
The Camping Story of DOOM!!!
If anyone was more depressed than Midvalley... well, no one was more depressed than Middie. He was depressed. More so than he had ever been in his life. Heck, he was having a midlife crisis, and he wasn't even ten years old.
He was more depressed than the time he got his big toe slammed in the door and he had to get a cast on it.
More depressed than the time he fell down the slide at McDonald's and broke his toenail off and had to go to the doctor.
He was even more depressed than he was that time when he got his toe stuck in the sewer grating outside JC Penny, and everyone stared at him until somebody finally called the fire department, and they had to come and pry the grating apart with a crowbar and he had to spend the next six weeks in toe rehab with this kid named Oscar who only spoke Polish, and Midvalley only knew three words in Polish, but now he knows four because Oscar taught him the word for lip: Usta.
Thinking back, he realized that almost all of his problems in life up to this point were largely due to his toes. Why do we even have toes?, he thought dejectedly. After all, they're only good for one thing: getting in the way. Your toes will never save you from falling off a cliff, never fix the faulty odometer on your car, never get you a date, and absolutely never, ever, under any circumstances would they help you steer an out-of-control oil tanker through the Arctic Ocean and save hundreds of thousands of innocent fuzzy sea mammals. They won't even brew you a cup of nice warm hot chocolate on a snowy day. So why do we have them?
Here, Midvalley had hit upon a very interesting point, and, getting off his original depression about not getting paired with Legato, he pondered toes for a few minutes. Then he realized that he was the only one standing out in the field, and decided to head off to his cabin, oblivious to the fact that later in his life, his toes would indeed do all of those things mentioned above and more. Amazing, the way life works, and all due to toes.
Now, a bit farther away, Vash was happy. Much happier than Midvalley, but not as happy as Wolfwood (who we will come to in a moment). Why, you ask? Well, largely due to the fact that the sugar from those ex-Reese's Peanut Butter Cups was still buzzing in his head, but partly due to the fact that he, himself, Vash-u the Stampede-o, was getting to share a cabin with a girl. Now, at the age he was, 9 to be exact, most boys would be the average cootie-fearing, mud-slinging, non-princely type that you'd typically expect (much like Knives).
But Vash had an extremely rare hormonal mutation that caused a very extreme reaction to girls.
Especially cute ones, but he wasn't too particular about that, either.
And Dominique was, most definitely, a girl. Which explains why she had a boquet of daisies thrust in her face.
Unfortunately for Vash, she was also a good shot. Which explained why, at that moment, a rock hit him in the forehead with a force that could only be attributed to years of practice.
Now Nick was happy as well. He, by some lucky act of God, Fate, The Nude Cheese-Wielding Maidens of the South Wind, or perhaps a combination of all three, was getting to carry luggage.
Now, this wasn't any ordinary sort of luggage. No, it was massive pink luggage. Two suitcases full.
But what made it so special is not the pink, but the Owner of the Pink, the Pink-Bearer, the All-Powerful High-Reigning Omnipotent Priestess of Pink herself, who had ever so kindly and graciously (in his hormone-clouded mind, anyway) allowed him the honor of carrying her luggage. Yes, this fair maiden, this princess, this goddess who must be perfect in every way, and as such not need to show her wealth and power by carrying her luggage, had blessed him and allowed him, an unworthy man, to do it in her place.
This was the kindest thing anyone had ever done for Nick.
"Thank you for allowing me to carry your luggage, fair princess." This was easier than he thought; staying up late to watch those sappy movies on AMC had helped.
"Um... don't mention it..." said the confused girl, watching Nick haul three suitcases, a backpack, and a giant teddy bear.
"I'm not worthy of such an honor."
"Uh... Okay..."
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Legato opened the door to the cabin, flicked on the lights, and stood in the doorway. He peered around cautiously for anything that might have been hiding in the dark corners.
"I GET THE TOP BUNK!!!" yelled Knives, knocking Legato onto the floor and scrambling up the ladder.
Grey and Leonof stared somewhat amusedly at him, while Legato just tried to peel his face out of the wood.
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Vash opened the door for Dominique and bowed.
Dominique glanced over at him, and walked inside. Grinning, Vash followed her.
EG Mine, with the help of Caine, somehow managed to fit through the door. If he could have, he would have gotten the top bunk, but his outfit made it difficult to climb.
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Kaite and Zazie were hitting it off already.
"Hey," said the blond boy, "who's better- Batman or Superman?"
"Well, duh, Zaz, Batman!"
"Nuh-uh, Superman's way cooler. He has x-ray vision!"
"Yeah, but Batman has a car! Does Superman have a car?"
"Superman doesn't need a car! Superman can fly!"
"Yeah, but Batman doesn't need superpowers! He's got cool weapons!"
"Oh, come on. Kaite, Superman has to fight scary bad guys! I mean, sure it'd be easy to look good when the worst bad guy you have to fight is a guy who wears makeup and laughs at his own jokes! That's just sad!"
"Yeah, but Superman has cooties! He has a girlfriend!"
"No he doesn't! Superman's way too cool to get cooties!"
"Nuh-uh."
"Uh-huh."
"Nuh-uh."
"Uh-huh."
"NUH-UH!"
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"Make me make you."
"Make me make you make me."
"Make me make you make me make you."
"Make me make you make me make you make me."
"Make me make me... what were we talking about?"
"I dunno."
"Oh."
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So, whaddya think? I know there wasn't much, but I'm writing the next chapter, which should be up soon. They tell ghost stories around the campfire... Bwahahaaaa... FEAR THE MOOSE!!!
