Blue Wolfe and Friends presents: Camp Here and There.
Episode Forty-One: A Sad Mandatory Appreciation Day
[CLICK]
SYDNEY
Good morning, campers! The time is [STATIC] 8:64AM and let’s address the elephant in the room—no, still not that one!
The sky is a pleasant, creamy orange this morning, both burning and citrus. It resembles the straining tape of bureaucratic process…
Kids, we have… visitors.
The Bureau of Enforced and Essential Festivities (or BEEF, for short) took its sweet time piling onto our grounds. To punish us, I mean. They arrived just before sunset yesterday evening, striding through the camp gates like a decorative parade of piety and bunting. Bureau flags held proudly above their heads, tucked into pockets, tied around limbs, even displayed on what must have been Bureau-issue underpants. They have an alarming love of banners. They set up camp overnight—no, literally, they set up their own camp, full of flapping orange tents and documents written in the foreign tongue of government paperwork.
Kids, am I the only one who thinks we have too many camps?! I mean. What are we even supposed to call this one? Camp “bunch o’ guys”? Camp “Over here?” Camp “just kill me now”?
[AHEM]
A procession of gray suits marched the paths this morning, their hyper-polished shoes crunching the underbrush. Leading the pack is the infamous Inspector Yule B. Jolly, his round face stretched into a plastic smile. When I went to introduce myself in lieu of Lucille boarding up her office again, the sunlight glinted off his sunglasses until the shine hurt my eyes.
He made no notice of me. And with the thrust of his arm, the Joy Compliance Officers fanned out across our camp, a flock of starched collars and ready clipboards. They moved with the precision of windup toys, each step perfectly in sync with one another.
The gentle breeze carried with it the scent of cheap cologne and government-issued hand sanitizer.
Inspector Jolly surveyed the camp, his manicured brow critical. He shook his head, the motion setting the numerous medals affixed to his suit clinking. Tutting under his breath, he made a dramatic show of scribbling notes on his clipboard with his comically oversized pen. And all of the officers followed suit, their pens scratching against paper in sync.
With a theatrical sigh, he retrieved a megaphone from the depths of his briefcase.
“Attention, campers and staff of Camp Here & There!” His voice boomed across the grounds. “We are here to conduct a mandatory audit of your holiday compliance. Please form an orderly line and prepare to present your Merriment Documentation.”
The officers began to circulate, their clipboards at the ready…
Kids. He is here to right our wrongs. That is to say, he is here to discipline our abysmal festive compliance, to spank us until we meet international regulation standards. That is to say, he is here to help with Opposite Day, the celebration yesterday of which was, quote, “a pathetic excuse for effort.”
But we had a plague going on. It’s not as if the campers were prepared in any way, shape, or form, which may be our bigger crime.
I can explain that I just plum forgot. I’ve been… not in… ship-shape lately, but nobody else was doing anything either! Why is it always me who has to keep up with this stuff!?
Did I say I explain? Because what I really mean is that I am forced to confess. I’ve learned that we need to be festive on a set schedule. Holidays are not only for days that start with “T” after all! (like Trombone Awareness Day, Tarantula Reconciliation Day, the Turnip Solstice, or Tupperware Remembrance Day). Did I mention that we missed Opposite Day? Because I’m sure Mr. Jolly has mentioned it at least seven times, and will do so many times more.
The sooner they finish with us, the sooner the air will clear. Till then, Jolly tells me we can all pretend we’re elsewhere, or maybe someone else. We are under extreme inspection until further notice.
They peer at the campers with intensity. Every party hat is scrutinized, every smile evaluated for sincerity. Woe betide anyone caught without the proper paperwork or insufficient enthusiasm!
Just… do as they say, kids.
Today’s breakfast is eggs (pending approval), civic duty danish, sausage of due process, and the mandatory toast unit. For staff we have coffee (regulated strength) and tea (subject to review).
Enjoy!
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
SYDNEY
Lunch time, campers! The time is [STATIC] 12:31 PM, and I hope you’re all enjoying your government-approved midday snack rations of “nutritionally optimized sustenance” and “hydration fluid.” If the gray cubes taste like old shoes, that’s because they’re made of old shoes. Reduce, reuse, recycle, am I right?
So, our esteemed guests from BEEF have decided that the best way to teach us a lesson and make up for our transgressions was to force us into an impromptu Opposite Day simulation. That’s right, kids – we’re all doing the opposite of what comes naturally now! Isn’t that just the beeswax candles?
In our sports field is a sea of orange tents sprouting up like mushrooms after a bureaucratic rain, each one emblazoned with the BEEF logo (which, I must say, is a masterclass in graphic design – who knew you could make a slab of meat look so authoritative?). The tents are filled with all sorts of contraptions wielded by the officers, designed to test our commitment to contrarianism. There’s the Lie Detector 3000, the Sarcasm-O-Meter, and my personal favorite, the Sincerity Sieve.
And we’ve done our best to comply, though it’s proving um… GREAT! Just fantastic!
Rowan, our resident panic and friend to all things grounded, has been instructed to act as carefree and sky-loving as possible. Last I saw, he was attempting to climb a tree while loudly proclaiming his newfound passion for cloudwatching. It’s going about as well as you’d expect.
Every time a breeze rustles the leaves, he lets out a yelp somewhere between a chihuahua and a tea kettle.
“I love the sky!” he shouts, voice cracking. “Look at me, just hanging out under the clear expanse!”
The BEEF officers circle the base of the tree, their clipboards at the ready. They murmur amongst themselves, jotting down notes and nodding approvingly at Rowan’s display of appropriately opposite behavior.
Juniper, bless his heart, was forced to act like an accomplished and astute career professional. He spent the morning strutting around in a borrowed suit, speaking in an artificially deep voice about “synergy” and “market trends.” He’s currently parading around the camp with a briefcase full of leaves, offering unsolicited “business advice” to bewildered campers.
But Juniper’s “accomplished professional” schtick isn’t too far off from how he usually behaves when on the phone with his father. I’ve overheard snippets of their conversations before, and it’s always the same song and dance.
“Yes, father, the firm is doing splendidly,” Juniper will say, his voice dropping an octave as he paces back and forth. “We just landed a big client – very hush hush, you understand. Can’t divulge too many details, but let’s just say it rhymes with Bortune Fivehundred.”
He’ll pause, nodding along to whatever praise his father must be heaping on him. “Indeed, I’m on track for partner any day now. The corner office is practically mine.”
In reality, the closest Juniper has gotten to a corner office is the time he got lost on the way to the Sanitorium and ended up in a broom closet. He sat there for a solid hour, pretending to take important calls on a mop handle before Rowan found him and gently guided him back to reality.
Juniper’s performance is almost too convincing at this point, though. He strides confidently from cabin to cabin, his usually blasé demeanor replaced by an air of self-importance. The ill-fitting suit jacket strains against his shoulders as he gesticulates wildly, spouting off about “synergistic opportunities” and “leveraging assets.”
“You see, it’s all about diversifying your portfolio,” he lectures to a group of lost campers, who nod along as if they understand. “I’ve got my fingers in all sorts of pies – real estate, stocks, and even a little venture capital on the side. It’s all about being proactive, you know?”
He punctuates his speech with a hearty guffaw, slapping his knee for emphasis.
Truth be told… this isn’t much of a stretch for Juniper.
But then there’s Yvonne, party animal and purveyor of all things wild. The Joy Compliance Officers took one look at her vibrant hair and idiosyncratic fashion sense and knew they had their work cut out for them. They immediately set about trying to subdue her into a state of bland normalcy. Gone are the colorful, mismatched patterns and chunky, statement jewelry. In their place, Yvonne has been stuffed into a drab, gray pantsuit that hangs off their frame like a sad, deflated balloon. Her once-vibrant and wild hair has been pulled back into a severe bun, and not a single neon streak or funky clip in sight.
She slouches around the camp, her usually bubbly demeanor replaced by a flat affect and monotone voice. When campers approach her for her signature high-fives and fist bumps, she responds with a limp handshake and a mumbled, “Pleased to make your acquaintance.”
And Soren was immediately stripped of his black robes and various magical talismans, much to his sputtering indignation. In their place, the officers stuffed him into a garish, neon-colored sweater adorned with teddy bears, smiling cartoon suns, and rainbows! His dark, usually unkempt hair has been slicked back with an alarming amount of gel, not a single strand out of place. He was forbidden from mentioning anything occult-related or supernatural. The last time someone said “mother,” he nearly cracked his teeth from the force of his biting down. [CHUCKLING] They have successfully transformed him into a beacon of wholesome, family-friendly fun!
And Jedidiah? He’s been forced to be emotionally expressive and neglectful of his secret project. Earlier, he looked me dead in the eye, said “I feel things,” and then walked away. I swear I saw a tear in his eye, but it might have just been a trick of the light.
As for yours truly, I’ve been instructed to act as though I’m completely autonomous and utterly disconnected from the natural world. It’s like they’ve taken my deepest insecurities and turned them into a character prompt! Thanks, BEEF!
It’s fine, I’m fine, everything’s fine! Here is my opposite day holiday jubilance! I definitely don’t feel like I’m having an episode or anything. Nope, just a regular old human doing regular old human things, like breathing air and having a sense of self. I am not one with the natural world and the cycle of life and death, and I will not one day join the ground to decompose as I have always meant to. Totally normal! And this cycle is not my method of prayer! I may as well be a living corpse with the way I am so out of whack with the natural order!
HA HA HA! HA!
Mr. Jolly, for his part, appears to be having the time of his life! He keeps popping up around the camp, clipboard in hand, to make sure everyone’s staying in character. And get this: every time he catches someone slipping up, he makes them sing a little song about the joys of conformity!
But the real star of this circus is none other than Inspector Yule B. Jolly himself. His quirk, as it turns out, is that he’s physically incapable of not holding his clipboard. I suspect that it may be an extra appendage. He eats with it, sleeps with it, probably showers with it too. I bet he has a little clipboard-sized pillow for it. [WHISPERS] I swear, I saw him cradling it like a baby when he thought no one was looking.
Oh, and get this – his favorite holiday is Mandatory Appreciation Day. A holiday he invented himself. For himself. To appreciate him! That holiday just so happens to be today! Everyone must appreciate our inspector. But of course, is it not opposite to then act in defiance of Mandatory Appreciation Day? Well, I don’t particularly want to find out what happens when you don’t appreciate him! So, let’s us all do as the Romans do and join the officers in unchallenged, unrelenting praise!
For example, let’s take a moment to appreciate the walking trophy case he wears on his clothing. The breast of his suit jacket is adorned with a dazzling array of medals, each one shinier and more ostentatious than the last. They clink and clank with his every movement, a jangling symphony of self-importance.
There’s the “Most Efficient Holiday Crackdown” medal, a gaudy affair featuring a stylized boot stomping on a cheerful pumpkin. It’s awarded to officers who successfully quash any unauthorized merriment with ruthless efficiency. Rumor has it that Mr. Jolly earned his by single-handedly shutting down an underground Easter egg hunt ring. Next to it is the “Outstanding Commitment to Enforced Cheer” medal, which features a smiling face that looks more like a grimace. Apparently, he won that for making a whole town sing “Jingle Bells” for an indeterminate but prolonged length of time. Some say you can still hear them singing to this day…
[AHEM]
Lunch today is a delightful spread of opposites! We have hot ice cream, savory cotton candy, and a hearty helping of deconstructed salad (it’s just a whole head of lettuce). The toast is untoasted, the juice is dry, and the utensils are… well, let’s just say you’ll need to get creative.
In a shocking twist, Inspector Jolly has mandated that lunch be eaten backwards, starting with dessert and ending with appetizers. He’s currently patrolling the mess hall, gleefully enforcing his culinary bedlam with the help of his trusty megaphone.
So dig in, campers! And remember, if anyone asks, you’re having the best opposite day ever. Which is to say you’re having the worst opposite day ever! We’re all just one big, happy, sad, opposite family today!
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
ADAM
[TAMBORINE SOUNDS] Hello, Camp Here & There! The name is Up and Adam, and I’m the person of importance, as I say what’s happening here. Here is the infernal space between hell and unearthly chaos, or maybe a giggly purgatory, depending on who you ask. And happening is a mass panic party orchestrated by me, thank you very much. Not that anyone appreciates it. Before I arrived, my sweetheart and his problematic, live-in partner were already in deep trouble. A festive task force was scrutinizing them, threatening to expose the nurse covering for him and possibly booking him for indescribable cause. I shan’t say. One might ask, “What’s the opposite of scrutinizing Sydney?” I’d say it’s causing the appropriate storm of disturbance and distraction! I should be generous enough to give myself a trophy or seven.
But it was almost too easy! I showed up and took these unsuspecting mortals by storm, literally, and I’m really not sure why I didn’t get an invitation to this soiree. Rude! Without yours truly, the merry enforcers were pushing hard to expose dear Sydney’s condition. When they could not find his identity in their system, they demanded he produce all kinds of paperwork, X-rays, and bloodwork, that of which would surely reveal a dastardly surprise of illicit dealings. Poor thing. He must have been an inch away from an indicting confession, barely holding it together before I got here to mess with the meddling officers. I wasn’t subtle for long, though the officers never quite connected the dots well enough to compromise anyone’s cover.
You might say I’m an unregistered disturbance. Or the true inspector of festivities. You’re welcome!
Let’s take it from the top. Until I made the rounds, Camp Here & There was having a hard time keeping up with the clipboard parade.
BEEF, I hear, the Bureau of Fucking-up-my-patient.
So many poor, confused creatures swarming the grounds like organized cockroaches! They’re caught in the middle of a surprise inspection. All must show their opposite colors or else risk consequences unknown! Doom and bureaucracy!
And now for my favorite thing, an unanticipated roll call! Who’s the adorable failure on a fishing line, and why does he look like an unbranded, desaturated color photo of old Jeddy-poo? Why, that must be Juniper. I don’t know him, but I already know I like him. I put the right scare into the bushy-tailed type before. What are they having him do, change his hair? Young professional, 9-to-5, sell sell sell? [HE LAUGHS] Love it. He’s strolling around with an empty briefcase and a greasy side-part, shaking leaves and sticking out like the imposter he is. What fun! I almost don’t want to get too close.
I don’t need a distraction from my distraction, and I can already tell this limey fellow will not shut up about “gross revenue.” If he’s anything like the corporate drones I know and love, my hard-earned money is on stock options and “financial freedom.” I’m touched! It reminds me of a tiny devil I used to know. What’s your hourly, sailor? Are you sure you’re ready for it? Do you fear a father you’ve never known? He sees me watching, my best behavior. I toss him a self-important wink, and send him into a tizzy.
And oh, look at this! Little shambles of a tree-climber. It wouldn’t be an old fashioned panic party without our favorite disaster. Or did you think he was staying out of the weather, doing some big existential brooding? Where you can’t get a drop of rain or blood on your parades? Afraid not. The sky-fearing forecast says clouds and nausea, wind and shrieking, everything’s hysterical with a high chance of prophetic vomiting. In other words, Rowan. I can practically taste the discomfort on his quivering little flesh. He almost knows something’s about to make him even more out of his environment than usual.
Yes! Me! 🙂
I offer him a helping hand, which sends him scurrying, all doom and dismay, back to his fellow mammals. BEEF agents circle him like buzzards, pens and checklists and recording devices hot on the trail. Before I got here, they must have thought he was in danger of caving, because they know he’s one jumpy chipmunk, but now I’m a serious threat to their slowpoke evaluation. [TAMBORINE] Good! I’ll make him break before they do. I get up close, promising some excitement, threatening low-grade comical lightning strikes. I say “remember the other time you thought you might die? Remember how funny it was?” Looks like a storm is coming, doesn’t it, Rowan? Are those more clouds on the horizon, I see?
Nobody knows what hit them when I drop in like a suspicious fruitcake left on your doorstep. Scaring the officers with a whirl of contradictions. Oh, and that! Jolly arguing politely with my therapy sweetheart, trying to pin him with criminally abnormal cheer. A few songs and dances too late, you starched fiends! The anomaly of my flesh cannot be named, and I’m sure that fascinates the soul. Our main inspector takes his sweet time inspecting me, instead of where the true affront to law would point him to. But I’m not bothered by how badly he misses the ball!
Oh my, such a classic disruption. I should have thought of this earlier.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
SYDNEY
Sorry about that, kids. I really need to get a lock put on this door.
What a day it’s been, huh? Our friends from BEEF kept us on our toes with their impromptu Opposite Day extravaganza. We were all doing our best to be the antithesis of ourselves– Rowan embracing his inner peace, Juniper channeling his inner Wall Street tycoon, Yvonne dull and monotone, Marisol mean and imposing, and me… well, let’s just say I was doing a stellar job of pretending to be a person of complete autonomous control over body and mind and completely disconnected from natural process! Yes! Nailed it!
But then, our director from the camp across the lake, Adam is his name, crashed our little opposite party. He prowled onto the scene in a cloud of wit and mischief, his red paisley suit clashing magnificently with the sea of BEEF’s orange tents and grey cotton.
At first, the officers tried to corral him, demanding to see his paperwork and accusing him of “unauthorized whimsy.” But Adam just laughed.
Pandemonium ensued. The officers scrambled to restore order, but Adam was always one step ahead. He led them on a merry chase around the camp, leaving a trail of misery and chaos in his wake.
At one point, he even managed to convince a group of them that the sky was blue and the grass was yellow. They spent a good hour filling out forms to report this “alarming color anomaly” before realizing they’d been duped.
He started by accosting poor Juniper, who was already beginning to struggle to maintain his “business professional” persona. Adam sidled up to him, a grin on his face, and started whispering things like “benchmarking” and “fiscal responsibility” in his ear. Juniper’s eye twitched, and I saw a bead of sweat drip down his forehead. He clutched his briefcase a little tighter and started spouting off random corporate jargon like “synergizing” and “paradigm shift.” The BEEF officers seemed pleased with his commitment to the bit, but I could tell he was one, quote, “quarterly report” away from cracking.
Next, Adam set his sights on Rowan, who was valiantly trying to maintain his “carefree sky-lover” act while clinging to a tree branch for his dear life. Adam started circling the base of the tree, making ominous comments about the weather. “Looks like a storm’s brewing,” he’d say, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. “I can feel the electricity in the air. Can’t you?” Rowan, to his credit, just laughed nervously and said something about how much he loved the feeling of wind in his hair. But his fingers were turning raw from gripping the branch. And I think he did run away at some point…
And poor Soren. Adam took one look at his wholesome getup and burst into a fit of what I can only describe as… giggling. He spent the rest of the afternoon following Soren around, making exaggerated “aww” sounds and cooing over how “adorable” he looked. He even asked if Soren wanted a “pupcup!” I thought Soren was going to combust.
Adam’s little “distractions” actually ended up working in our favor. The BEEF officers were so busy trying to keep up with his antics and figure out what he was, that they completely forgot about their original mission. Inspector Jolly was running around like a chicken with its head cut off, attempting to maintain some semblance of order amidst the chaos.
And that’s when I realized… This whole Opposite Day thing? We were doing it all wrong. We were so focused on trying to do the opposite of our usual selves that we completely forgot the most obvious solution: doing the opposite of what BEEF expected us to do.
So, I marched right up to Inspector Jolly, looked him dead in the eye (or at least, where I assumed his eyes were behind those large sunglasses), and told him that our failure to properly celebrate Opposite Day was, in fact, the ultimate expression of the holiday’s spirit. We were doing the opposite, by not doing the opposite at all!
For a moment, Inspector Jolly just stared at me, his plastic smile frozen in place. The silence stretched on, broken only by the distant sounds of Adam’s laughter and the rustling of BEEF officers’ clipboards.
Then, slowly, Inspector Jolly’s smile began to twitch. It started at the corners of his mouth, a barely perceptible quiver that gradually spread across his face. His eyebrows furrowed, then shot up in realization.
He began to pace back and forth, tapping his clipboard thoughtfully against his chin. The evening sun glinted off his sunglasses.
He stopped pacing and turned to face me, his smile now a bit rueful.
“I must admit, I’m impressed,” he said.
Around us, the BEEF officers had begun to gather, their clipboards hanging limply at their sides. They murmured amongst themselves, a low buzz of confusion.
Inspector Jolly held up a hand, silencing them. He took a deep breath, then let out in a long, dramatic sigh.
“It appears that our work here is done,” he said through his megaphone, his voice ringing out with an air of finality. “Camp Here & There has proven itself to be a bastion of subversive celebration. We came here to enforce merriment, but it seems the joke was on us all along.”
He turned to his officers, who stood at attention.
“Pack it up, boys,” he barked.
And as the officers scurried to dismantle their tents and gather their belongings, Inspector Jolly turned back to me. He reached out a hand, and for a moment, I thought he was going to shake mine. But instead, he unclipped a medal from his breast – a small, silver thing in the shape of a jester’s hat.
He pressed it into my palm. The “’Confounding Conundrum’ award,” as he called it. An award for “exemplary service in the field of festive mind-bendery.”
He lastly instructed me to, quote, “wear it with pride,” before turning towards the sunset and walking at the head of his bureaucratic pack.
By the time Mr. Jolly left, he was practically bursting with goodwill, which I suspect is how he explodes and kills his victims.
But anyways. I sure am GLAD that’s over! Everyone can return to the status quo as if nothing has changed! I guess we can thank Adam for the little foray, and perhaps our steady truce with Camp Over Where is built to last!
[RUSTLING PAPERS]
So let’s talk about tonight’s activity, shall we? We have a good old-fashioned campfire singalong scheduled. Gather ’round the flickering flames, kids, and let’s raise our voices in a rousing chorus of all your favorite tunes. Soren will be leading us in such camp classics as “Don’t Eat the Glowing Berries,” “Hands on the Log, Eyes on the Fog,” and everyone’s favorite, “We Sang it Backwards and Now He’s Here.” Don’t worry, we’ve got plenty of marshmallows for toasting, but fair warning – Gracie may have accidentally summoned a vengeful spirit last time, so if your s’more starts writhing and convulsing in agony, just toss it back into the flames!
For tonight’s dinner, Matthew has made us Bureaucratically Boneless Chicken! He explains that it represents the spineless whimper and gasps that the structures of our governance operate with! Vegans have a “chicken-free” chicken alternative, which has been certified boneless by seventeen different agencies! Now, twenty four agencies have since ruled it full of bones, but that’s hotly disputed and we don’t need to get into it.
Enjoy your meal, my little geckos!
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
SYDNEY
Oh my God. Drop it, Jeddie.
JEDIDIAH
I-I’m just saying… that was far too close today. They got into my—
SYDNEY
What?
JEDIDIAH
N-Nothing… But what if—what if you got caught? You need to be more careful.
SYDNEY
It wasn’t like I was trying to—
JEDIDIAH
No, of course not. I know you’re doing your best but can.. can you do a-a little better…? Uh, I guess? Now that I-I know that… that you’re not impervious, and—
SYDNEY
What—! [HE TAKES A MOMENT] What you do propose I had done differently?
JEDIDIAH
Uh—
SYDNEY
They came to me. I can’t exactly abandon my post in lieu of some suits—
JEDIDIAH
N-no, Sydney. You… you could have maybe…? Maybe you… uh should– should have just… should have just hidden? Not– not talked to them, I mean. Stayed—
SYDNEY
Locked up?
JEDIDIAH
[MEEKLY] I– I guess.
SYDNEY
Right.
JEDIDIAH
I can’t lose you…
SYDNEY
Right.
JEDIDIAH
They would have you locked up, Sydney, if they somehow found out.
SYDNEY
Mhm.
JEDIDIAH
I-in much worse circumstances…
SYDNEY
You’re right.
JEDIDIAH
Maybe even executed…!
SYDNEY
Hey, calm down!
JEDIDIAH
A-and what you told me Soren said… I-I can’t even fathom how he knows. I mean, what if he tells someone? What if someone gets hurt? You shouldn’t get near him either—
SYDNEY
Don’t tell me who I can or can’t “get near.”
JEDIDIAH
… Right. Sorry.
SYDNEY
[ANNOYED] It’s fine, Jeddie.
JEDIDIAH
I don’t like him.
SYDNEY
I know, Jeddie.
JEDIDIAH
And the way Adam talked—! Is he trying to get you in trouble?
SYDNEY
No one was listening to that but you, Jedidiah. He knew that…
JEDIDIAH
A-…are you alright?
SYDNEY
I’m fine. I know it’s not your fault that… that…
[A PAUSE]
JEDIDIAH
You don’t need to lie. It is my fault.
SYDNEY
Mm.
JEDIDIAH
I’ll never be forgiven for my transgressions, Sydney.
SYDNEY
[SIGH]
JEDIDIAH
Talk to me.
SYDNEY
I need to do this. I need to not do that. Where does it leave me?
JEDIDIAH
[HE PAUSES, UNSURE WHAT TO SAY] I love you.
SYDNEY
I love you too.
JEDIDIAH
I’m sorry. I’ll try to lay off.
SYDNEY
I would appreciate that.
JEDIDIAH
I worry.
SYDNEY
I know. But it does me no good.
JEDIDIAH
Right. You can consider this my promise to… to temper…
SYDNEY
It does us no good.
JEDIDIAH
I’m sorry.
SYDNEY
It’s alright
[A PAUSE]
Can we go to bed?
JEDIDIAH
Mm… May I beg a goodnight kiss?
SYDNEY
[AMUSED] Mmm.. If you really beg.
JEDIDIAH
Oh, dear!
SYDNEY
[DRAMATIC] Get down on your knees.
JEDIDIAH
Oh, dear!
[CLICK]
Today’s episode of Camp Here & There was written and directed by Blue Wolfe.
The role of Sydney Sargent was performed by Blue Wolfe.
The role of Jedidiah Martin was performed by Voicebox Vance.
The role of Up and Adam was performed by Dio Garner.
With original music composed by Will Wood and produced by Jonathon Maisto.
Additional music composed by Kyle Gabler and Another You.
Dialogue editing by Emily Safko and Beetlesprite.
Sound design by Blue Wolfe and Another You.
And a special thanks to Patrons for making this possible!
Special thanks to: N. Wildnan, KWarthog, _PixelPaws_, and Tasia
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Thank you for listening to Camp Here & There! And remember: Never try to read lips.