Boy Scouts

At the age of 12 I attended “Fire Mountain” camp with my Boy Scouts troop. The troop included at least two nerds, two morons and a retarded child named Troy. The Morons mostly lit fires, while Troy tried to play Magic the Gathering with Nerds. One day, I had to take a shit quickly before the Nerds started their game of Magic, but I saw that the toilet-seat was covered in crap from Troy. To avoid contagions, I shat from a distance of approximately .3 meters. After wiping my ass in a similarly apish pose, I realized that, not only had I missed the toilet, but I had erred more badly than Troy. I left the turd on the ground and ran to the game, saying I had been with the Fire-lighters.
When the adults found the turd, they first asked the Fire-lighters, who blamed the retarded kid. Accordingly, tacit consensus among the Scoutmasters attributed the stray shit to Troy.
But the Fire-lighters angrily accused me as soon as the adults left, since they saw through my alibi. I indignantly denied all charges, but they told the rest of the scouts. In retribution, I stole their implements and took another shit even further from the pit. The group leaders again called an emergency meeting:
“If this was any of you, don’t be embarrassed, we will accept your apology now without punishment.”
Nobody responded; scout eyes turned again to Troy. But the leaders quizzed the Fire-lighters instead. When they resumed the “Troy” defense, the Chief Scoutmaster frowned:
“Boys, I sure am disappointed…”
“It wasn’t us, what the fuck! It was that little douche again!”
“Look, kid, he may have a disorder, but I’m pretty sure he doesn’t shit flaming turds.”

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