Dirty began laughing so hard that he had difficulty eating the stolen food. He nearly choked and had to stand up from where he was sitting at the picnic table to regain his composure.
We all shared laughs in between healthy mouthfuls of Scout sustenance. Meanwhile, Fire Crotch continued to search through the surrounding tents, assumedly pocketing whatever treasures that he came across.
“Let’s get going,” I suggested, after the three of us had finished binging on the liberated snacks for several minutes.
“Where the hell did Fire Crotch go?” Dirty finally asked, looking around the campsite.
“I’m right here!” Fire Crotch responded, as he emerged from one of the nearby tents, empty-handed.
“We’re leaving—come on, let’s go!”
Seemingly disappointed, Fire Crotch ran up to us and we began marching out of the rival troop’s campsite together, eating the remains of the looted grub box storage as we trudged along.
“Where did you guys get all that stuff?” Fire Crotch asked.
“While you were dicking around inside those tents we cleaned out the grub box back there,” I replied.
“Did you guys bogart everything? Is there anything left?”
“Nope,” Dirty stated, stuffing his face with some trail mix.
“You have to be up on things when you’re with us,” I stated. “We move pretty quick. There’s no time for waiting around.”
“Yeah, what the hell were you doing in those tents anyway?” Kmart Cowboy asked Fire Crotch. “Did you find anything good?”
“I was looking for some toilet paper,” he replied. “I have to shit.”
Kmart Cowboy ceased his march up the trail. “Well, shit then!” he said.
“But I didn’t find any toilet paper back in the camp,” Fire Crotch pleaded.
“So what? Use some leaves!” Kmart Cowboy commanded. “Hurry up!”
“Shit, damn, hell, fuck, son of a bitch, bastard, bloody puss,” Fire Crotch cursed, stepping away from the group. We all turned our backs on him to give our comrade some privacy to defecate. While we waited, we continued to consume some more stolen food that we each had stuffed inside our swollen pockets. Moments later, Fire Crotch called out from behind us. “Hey, guys! Look!”
I turned around and saw Fire Crotch’s bare ass no less than five feet away from me. His pants were pulled down around his ankles and he remained standing, only slightly bent over. The moment my eyes met his pale white buttocks, Fire Crotch squeezed out a gooey, green swath of fecal matter that resembled a stream of mulched avocado.
“Oh, hell no!” I repulsed.
“Oh God!” Kmart Cowboy responded.
Dirty swiftly cowered away as well. “That’s fucking gross!”
Fire Crotch offered a healthy laugh as the semi-solid fecal stream parted from his rectum and splashed upon the ground, making a pie-shaped formation. He pulled up his pants somewhat, allowing himself to walk in a wobbly manner, and wandered back into the campsite.
“Where the hell are you going now?” Kmart Cowboy called out after him.
“I need to find something to wipe my ass with!” Fire Crotch replied.
I stood in the middle of the trail with Dirty and Kmart Cowboy, revolting in shock from the foul nature of the incident. Seconds later, Fire Crotch rejoined us. He was seen walking up the trail, wiping his ass with a pair of underwear that he had salvaged from another Scout’s tent.
“Can’t you do that back there?” Kmart Cowboy yelled at him.
“What?” Fire Crotch asked, as he continued walking toward us with his hand up his crack. “What’s the big deal?”
“Why don’t you go behind the trees or something?” I said. “Damn!”
“You guys act like a bunch of pansies,” Fire Crotch stated, while hobbling up to us, still wiping his brown eye as he came forward. “Haven’t you ever seen a man wipe his ass before?”
“Not like that I haven’t,” Dirty conceded.
Fire Crotch dropped the confiscated pair of underwear that he had used to clean himself. “Much better,” he said, buttoning up his pants.
“Hey, you know what would be really funny?” Dirty stated. “—If we put those shitty drawers back inside someone’s tent.”
Kmart Cowboy started cackling.
“That would be pretty gross, man,” I said. “Let’s do it!”
Dirty found a long stick from the nearby woods and used it to pick up the soiled underwear from off the ground. He then gingerly walked back into camp with the brown-streaked drawers hanging from off the end of the stick.
Fire Crotch rushed into one of the nearby tents and produced a pillowcase from within. “Let’s put it inside this pillow case!” he suggested.
With the skill of a surgeon, Dirty guided the stick into the open end of the pillowcase that Fire Crotch held in his hands. Dirty then scraped the soiled undergarment off inside the pillowcase and withdrew the stick.
“That’s what I’m talking about!” Kmart Cowboy stated with a loud tone.
“That’s pretty funny and all but we’re wasting a good resource back there,” I stated.
“What do you mean?” Dirty asked.
“Well, Fire Crotch left a nice pile of mulched shit back there on the trail. Why don’t you scoop it up and put that inside the pillow case?”
“Dude!” Dirty snatched up the pillowcase that contained the soiled underwear and ran back to the sultry fecal pie that Fire Crotch had dumped upon the trail. He then began to drag the stick through the excrement, attempting to comb as much of the substance as he could into the pillowcase. Due to the near liquid consistency of Fire Crotch’s greenish excrement, the operation proved messy and quite awkward. I became impatient.
“This isn’t working,” I said, walking off toward a different tent. “I got a better idea.”
“What are you going to do?” Kmart Cowboy asked from behind me.
“I’m going to do this the proper way,” I replied. I entered one of tents within the camp and zipped myself inside. I then pulled open one of the rival Scout’s sleeping bags on the ground, dropped my pants, and pinched a moist and meaty loaf inside its downy interior. After wiping my ass with a shirt that I found inside the tent, I threw the cloth inside the sleeping bag and zipped up the package of neighborly love. Once I repositioned the sleeping bag back to its original position, I exited the tent to rejoin my friends. Dirty was seen depositing the shit-filled pillowcase into an adjacent tent. I started to laugh uncontrollably, impeding my continued gait up the trail.
“Dude, check this out,” I said in between bouts of amusement. “Those idiots are going to come back to camp all tired and hungry. They’re going to find their camp raided and their grub box empty. Then, after a long day of merit badge work and foraging for food out in the forest, one of them kids is going to go inside his tent and crawl into his sleeping bag. He’s going to find himself a warm present inside! It’s going to get all over his legs! He’ll be crawling out, smelling like my shit! Then what’s he going to do? He won’t have a sleeping