Free Memoirs of a Neurotic Zombie by Jeff Norton Page A

left.
    ‘We’ve got a Greek chorus thing going on,’ I said awkwardly.
    ‘I love the Greek yogurt,’ she said. ‘In fact, we’re making a Greek-yogurt flavoured doughnut in the new batch.’
    I was confused and I must’ve looked it because Growl explained, ‘The Lebkuchen family doesn’t just own this camp but they also own the Canadian Nibble Donut Corporation.’
    ‘You own Can Nibble?’ I asked excitedly. ‘I am completely in love with your product.’
    Even Corina nodded her head in agreement.
    ‘I wish they were in the States,’ I added.
    ‘Someday soon,’ she said with wide grin ‘We’ve just about conquered Canada, but I think the world is nearly ready for our recipes, don’t you?’
    ‘Most definitely,’ I said. ‘I was sceptical at first, but I’m a convert and a cheerleader.’
    ‘We’re totally taking some home with us,’ said Nesto.
    The Bavarian-born doughnut queen of Canada moved down the row to inspect Nesto next.
    ‘Small, but solidly built,’ she said.
    ‘Thanks, Mrs Leprechaun,’ Nesto said, proudly holding up his model of the mess hall. ‘I worked really hard on it.’
    ‘Ernesto,’ said Growl. ‘It’s Leb-ku-hen.’
    ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Sorry.’
    ‘It’s an old name, from the old country. That’s why we bought this camp – this forest reminds us of our ancestors’ home in the woods of Bavaria.’
    ‘Well, it’s really nice to meet you, Mrs Lebkuchen,’ said Ernesto, slowly pronouncing the woman’s name. ‘But, I’m dying to know. Who’s won the contest? Who’s the best?’
    ‘The what?’ she asked.
    ‘The model making,’ said Growl, reminding the old lady, clearly suffering from a bit of dementia, of why she was here.
    ‘Oh, yes, that. Well, I’ve inspected everybody and I think the winner of this group of campers has got to be, hmm …’ She looked slowly around the room. Each of the campers smiled, hoping to will her into picking them as the winner.
    ‘That boy over there,’ she finally said, pointing her cane at Jake.
    ‘Yes!’ he exclaimed. ‘NinjaMan rules!’
    I was disappointed, but gave Jake a congratulatory wave across the room. He really had made something special.
    ‘What is the prize?’ I asked.
    ‘The prize,’ she said, ‘is that we’ll name a new doughnut after you.’
    I saw Jake beaming with pride. ‘My folks are going to freak,’ he said. ‘I’ll be famous. Well, famous in Canada anyway.’
    ‘And soon the world,’ Mrs Lebkuchen reminded him.
    ‘Cool,’ said Jake.
    Lucky duck, I thought.

16
In Which I Learn the Truth
    After stuffing our faces at dinner and destroying our gingerbread creations for dessert, the LITs rounded us up and marched us out of the dining cabin and into the woods. I noticed a dastardly mosquito buzzing around Nesto’s neck and, acting on instinct, I went in for the kill.
    Slap.
    ‘What’d you do that for?’ he asked.
    I showed him my palm, now decorated with mosquito guts and blood.
    Corina inhaled. ‘Even chupa blood smells pretty good.’
    ‘I’m going to go wash this off,’ I said. ‘Hygiene first.’
    I peeled off from the group, marching a well-beaten path through the field and headed towards the wooden restroom hut.
    ‘Where you going, camper?’ asked Growl from the front.
    I crossed my legs and did the universally accepted pee dance and he instantly understood. He gave me an understanding salute and told me to, ‘Hurry back. You don’t want to miss the Camp Nowannakidda Chant.’
    I was certain I did want to miss any such chant – I had vampire-enticing blood on my hand. But when I opened the wooden door to the boys’ bathroom, I froze.
    This was no bathroom.
    It was an outhouse.
    On my left were three stalls, with no more than a wooden plank separating me from the cumulative waste of hundreds, if not thousands, of campers who’d pooped before me, lurking down below in a man-made pit of defecation despair.
    On my right was what appeared to count as the hand-washing