This Means...WAR

Welcome, Campers...Staff!

"Alright, campers, come on down to check-in to get your room and camp color assignments!" Chris McLean, the Director of Camp Wawanakwa, announced through his fire engine red megaphone. Trying to navigate these teenagers was a certified pain.  Almost as difficult as when the kids would show up. 

"You realize we're camp staff, right?"  The curvaceous brunette motioned around her.  "We're not campers."

Chris smirked.  Not bothering to turn off or move his mouth away from his megaphone, he replied.  "As this is a camp and you will be living here for the next 12 weeks, that does, in fact, qualify you as campers."

The young woman started to respond, but Chris shushed her.  Glancing at the clipboard between his hand and hip, he recognized her by the picture submitted with her CIT application.  "Courtney, right?  Yeah, you're gonna get used to zipping it when I talk."  He paused and awaited for a proper amount of silence to be had.  "Thank you.  Now, if you'll follow me..."

Chris turned around from the camp's entrance and started heading towards the second largest building in sight.

As the group of 12 followed suit, one of the most out of place looking amongst them jogged up to Courtney at the front.

Once he reached her, he nudged her side with his elbow. "Hey, I thought it was pretty cool how you challenged him."

Courtney looked over at her assailant and scowled upon viewing his oversized clothing and green mohawk. "Shhh! You heard him; I don't want to get in trouble on the first day," she whisper-yelled at him.

The punk grinned. "Damn, I didn't realize you were so uptight."

That set Courtney off. "I'm not uptight!"

Up ahead, Chris stopped and turned around. "Courtney, what did I say? Bad listener much?"

A look of shock spread out across the girl's face. Her mouth hung agape. She wasn't used to getting in trouble, yet alone two reprimands in five minutes. Note to self, stay away from mohawk-guy.

After an excruciatingly embarrassing minute of making her way towards the building, Courtney was glad that they had come to a stop on the porch. She hoped everyone would get distracted by the anticipated instructions.

"Alright, this is the camp staff house. There is a common area and a kitchen, but most of your time will be spent with your campers and the majority of your meals will be provided by Chef Hatchet in the mess hall. There are two large rooms in the back; ladies on the right, guys on the left. You dudes don't have chaperones as you are the chaperones, so I'm trusting that you won't get into too much trouble, but who am I kidding? Just don't do weird shit, especially in front of the kids 'cause if I see or hear about anything, then you're going to get reprimanded, and that's a lot of paperwork on my part. Do not make me do paperwork." Chris stared down each and every one of the new camp counselors.

Once satisfied by the impact of his threat, he yelled for his assistant. "Noah! Noah! Oh, there you are."

A way-too-well-dressed-for-a-summer-camp scrawny young man materialized out of the cabin with a clipboard in his hands. It seemed everyone official around here possessed a clipboard.

"Noah here," Chris explained, "will give you your Color Team assignments. Each color has two camp staff leaders, one for the boys and one for the girls. I have to take care of some things, so acquaint yourselves and get situated. I expect you all to meet me in the mess hall in an hour!" With his final instruction, the man was off.

Everyone looked towards Noah.  The man cleared his throat before listing off the team leaders.  Each person went up to Noah to retrieve their Color Team Captain name badge as their assignment was revealed.  It was as best an introduction to each other as they would get, assuming they were all paying attention to anything but themselves.