Camping Trip: The Whole Truth and Nothing Butt

I've been away for a few days with a large group of campers up at Grundy 'Bloody' Lake, it's unique name comes from the reddish colour of the water which resembles a Bloody Mary; but with more tampons in it.

The first day was rather uneventful; we spent most of the time trying to figure out how to orientate our tents so we did not exit into a tree. With careful planning, we managed to stack the tents on top of each other to create a tower block with a glass elevator that carried three occupants at a time with very little weight limit.

My friend Tim lived on the 50th floor of the tent tower; he had a nice view of the bloody lake, and he invited me up for a cigarette and some brandies. As we stood on the balcony overlooking the forest and the lake, I noticed that Tim wasn't quite himself, 'what's wrong Tim?'
'I miss the city', replied Tim, 'You can take the boy out of the city but you can't take the city out of the boy.'
'That's very profound, Tim.'
'Chaucer.'
'No thanks Tim, I've already eaten.'

The next day, I woke up to find that I was slowly being eaten alive by carnivorous frogs. I had been warned about them and it was the season where they would swarm small towns and eat all the people. The frogs had a small evolutionary problem, you see, they had a taste for human flesh but nature had denied them teeth, so they would slowly suck their victim to death: some men would enjoy the experience but fail to realize that the enzymes in the frogs' saliva would be slowly digesting their bodies. I ran out of my tent, dived into the lake with the frogs still attached to my body and managed to drown them all; only suffering superficial wounds.

The restaurant in the basement of the tent tower was run by a Monsieur Pompideu. He cooked on top of a large fire which would often roast the occupants on the lower floors. 'Do you really think that it's a good idea to stack a load of tents on top of a fire?', I once asked him.
'Burt ef curse!', replied Monsieur Pompideu, 'It keps ze building werm in wenter.'

It was sweltering that night, so I turned on the A/C. I immediately felt the tent begin to cool down. I turned on the television to watch the local news; a decapitated dog had been found in the lake. How gruesome, I thought to myself as the next headline, 'Bears Run Amok in Frocks' presented itself. I must have had a psychic flash or something because I knew that instant that the bears did it; they stole the dog's frock.