The  Harrowing Tale Of James Franco

There we were, swimming in the depths of Crystal Lake at Camp Tesomas, our annual Summer Camp destination, when we saw him. Just a glint at first, but upon swimming down, we discovered a common lawn flamingo. However, this flamingo was special. Not just because we found him, but also due to the rope around his neck, and the rocks that filled his gizzard. We retrieved him from the muck and raised him back to salvation. Upon closer inspection, most of the paint was either chipped off or missing. There, at the Hanna Waterfront, we stayed for the rest of the day, which turned into the rest of the week, throwing him out into the waters, only to race to retrieve him. In that summer he was christened James Franco, by Charles Baker.

Although we did not take him home that summer, we hid him within the murky depths, saving him for the next year. And summer turned into fall, which withered into winter. The lake froze and the troop took the annual car trek to the Hanna Venture Base. Although we did not find him when we looked at the ice of the lake, we hoped he was hidden well, and trusted he would be there the next year.

Winter blossomed into spring, which bloomed into summer in turn. And the trek reoccurred, and the troop returned to Crystal Lake Scout Reservation. And we returned to the Hanna Lakefront in hope to find our fabled friend. He stayed for us, there frozen at the bottom of the lake. We swam down to retrieve him, and continued our now yearly ritual. This time, we brought him with us, to the place where he now resides, the storeroom of Troop 104.

-Excerpt from the Tales of Troop 104 by Charles Baker