there was this kid in summer camp who was endlessly scapegoated. I don't know why. He was actually a good guy who tried to wear the black hat.
Long story short, at the end of camp, some kids lined up outside his bunkhouse with a bunch of towels that had some dense looking implement within. The smallest of them quietly peeled back the rusted, opaque screen door. What materialized next before my tired eyes that dim fall morning will forever be seared into my mind.
Each delivered his towel's contents with an awkward, rudimentary swinging arc and as I heard the horrific screams from within, I realized this poor young soul by the name of John Smith was hysterically saying over and over again:
(THIS NEXT PART IS DISTURBING, READ ON AT YOUR PERIL)
"HELP, OH MY GOD HELP ME, THEY'RE THROWING SHIT AT ME!"
