Camping Trip Revised
Kathryn and I took off for the Ozarks this weekend with a bowie knife, a two liter of mountain dew, a bag of raw potatoes and a sheet of dirty canvas. We got to the campground, and finding it full, we scaled a cliff, and hiked into bear country, where I built a fire by rubbing together two small trees that I uprooted with my bare hands, hacking limbs from it with the bowie knife. It was at this point that the inevitable happened: the sheer strength exhibited by my display of manliness caused my shirt to burst apart into tiny shreds. Sweat poured down my hairy chest and I howled savagely like a wild beast, scaring away the twelve advancing grizzly bears. After I had a roaring blaze, I waited patiently. Sure enough, off in the distance I spied a wolf, which I pounced on from a crouched position and clamped my jaws around its neck, ripping out its jugular.
The next day, we encountered a rabid Ozarkian named Clem. He was guarding a pile of firewood with a bloody battle ax. I offered to trade a wolf skin for some. He promptly and fiercely sprang on me. I knocked the axe out of his hands, but he caught me with a wicked roundhouse to the face. I jumped on his back and dragged him to the ground... after which it's all kind of a blur. The next thing I clearly remember, I was standing over a ravine with a handful of teeth and a mouthful of hair. I weaved the hair into a new shirt, and ground the teeth to dust in my hand, then used the dust to bake a three tier cake over the fire.