When my pastor was still in seminary, he counselled at a small High School camp in the Organ Mountains every summer. Traditionally, all the kids would tramp down the mountain to an old cemetary on the last night of camp and tell ghost stories. And every year, everyone tried to scare the seniors because no one could ever do it.
His last year there, my pastor and the other counsellors cooked up a scheme. They found all the necessary equipment and rehearsed it all. Finally, the last night came and it was time for....D-Day, I guess. It was a perfect night, pitch black, no moon. A chilly breeze was blowing through the trees.
The designated counsellor began telling of a ghost who lived in that very cemetary, who had been known to swoop down from the trees and carry kids off alive. At that very moment, one of the counsellors, dressed in a white robe and hidden in the trees, jumped on the zipline they'd rigged the night before and came hurtling down towards the kids huddled into groups, screaming bloody murder.
Well, that was a little much. All the kids jumped to their feet and ran towards the entrance where counsellors were buried under the leaves by the graves. As the kids came towards them, they rose from underneath the leaves, howling and moaning. The kids did an about face and ran, screaming this time, towards the back exit, where a giant fish net, perfectly placed,dropped and captured them all.
Let's just say they didn't stop screaming for a very long time.
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Shanna Moakler and Jesse DeSoto have beenELIMINATED!!!!!
1 comment:
Sreaming... bloody murder? That sounds familiar, just like Dad when the girls get all riled up. :)
I would hate to have been one of the seniors there!
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