Stanley Runk

My friends call me Runk The Punk, and I was a C.I.T. here at Camp North Pines before the revolution. Let me sum up a bit. Using my Counselor In Training title made it easy for me to terrorize and bully the kids, especially the computer geek, Donald Poultry. Ever since he called me as a "Giant purple dork" I had taken a serious disliking to the little peckerhead. The new camp director, Mr. Warren, is about as fun as having your scrotum jammed in a paper shredder. Too many rules, and only one television channel which only gets all that religious shit like Peter Popoff. Poultry, in his only redeeming moment, rigged the tv to give us a channel of girls parading about in lingerie. I would have preferred something like No Man's Land 6: Latina Edition, but it's better than listening to Peter Popoff trying to get you to annoint your butthole and phone bills with radioactive holy water. Warren pulled the plug on this and the temperature of the campers was near it's boiling point. It came to a head when the girls' camp got together with us for a talent show. Myself and John Mason are a rockin' duo called The Horndogs. We were doing our fantastic cover of Fear's Beef Bologna(my pics were shot during this landmark performance), when Warren deemed it obscene, and not only cancelled the talent show, but the fucking coed dance that was coming up that weekend! John Mason, Chris Wade and myself snuck over to the girl's camp where I met my girl, Trixie. Chris got caught making out with his girl in the Arts and Crafts center and Warren locks him up in "The Pen". Richboy Franklin Reilly decided to form a revolution to overthrow the counselors and give the camp back to the kids. So, we whipped up a cockamamie story about Warren molesting one of the kids to get some of the more unsure guys to go along with the plan. At gunpoint, we forced Warren and the counselors into The Pen and freed Chris. The Supreme Revolutionary Committee was formed and I am second in command to Franklin Reilly. He runs the camp like a dictatorship, but that's cool coz everyone has fun. To paraphrase Eddie Murphy, we just like to party all the time, party all the time, party all the tiiiiime. Booze, sex and dance music rule 24/7. No one gets hurt unless they disobey the Committee. If so, the traitor must cross the dilapidated rope bridge hand over hand without falling into the rocks below. Other than that, it's fun. I still torment the kids and I can play Beef Bologna whenever I want now.