Home > Stories > The Legend of Campin' Words

Upon a cold winter evening familiar voices could be heard entering the Lime Bay campsite.
"Oh no, it's them again I must warn the others," Boss Poss said as he scurried down the tree off into the bush.
"Quick, quick, they're here!" Boss Poss yelled desperately.
"Who's here?" Lucy asked Boss. "THEM! You know! Those three stupid men who come here every year when it gets cold. You know, Pierre la Claire or Ethyl, Mr. M or Harold and Paul," Boss said desperately.
"Oh no! not those three!" Lucy said with a shudder.
"Do you remember what they did last time?" Boss asked Lucy.
"Yes I do, and when they come across the entrance of the camp site their personalities change dramatically. I'm sure that when they are home they are logical thinking males. Instead of greedy, alcohol consuming, practical joke playing men," Lucy said.

"I remember the grand blazing camp fires that they always light and how they sit around the fire playing cards and warming their (Ahh) souls. Playing cards seems to be an obsession with them, as they only stop to eat, drink and sleep. Occasionally they would wander off in the middle of the night to water the trees and then drink some more before retiring to bed, or going back to their game of cards. Their drunken wanderings brings around many a tale that even the most gullible camper or possum would find hard to believe." Boss started to settle in to a story as other possums gathered around. "One time Mr. M wandered off to the toilet and was missing for hours. To this very day both Pierre and Paul still believe that he fell asleep on the toilet, but Mr. M denies it as much as they persist." An amused chuckle came from the listeners as Boss Poss continued. "Once their precious camp site was invaded by young 'Hoods'..."
"What are Hoods Daddy?" enquired Boss' son Sandy as he stared at him inquisitively. "Well they are a bit like these men except they wander around the campsite and annoy other people," Boss explained as he continued with his stories. "Terrified at the thought of the young 'Hoods' invading their camp site and stealing their grog, they decided that someone had better keep guard. Reluctantly Mr. M gave in to Pierre and Paul's badgering and he staggered off patrolling the area for the enemy. You should have heard him, he whinged and whined all the time he was patrolling the campsite. He kept complaining loudly about having to patrol the area and missing out on playing cards for some of the evening. He moaned profusely about the only things that were keeping him company was the bloody possums! Well, that was enough for me, so as he passed the tree I was perched on, I let a branch fling back at his face. It was a direct hit! The branch managed to lash his eye open a little causing it to weep, but it was enough to send him running! The first casualty for the night had fallen and had to be seen to by Paul. A few beers later and his eye looked at, he was well enough to play cards for the rest of the night. Oh, I remember that night well! I did that to teach him not to insult us possums and to keep him quiet for a while. Never have I heard a man complain so much in such a little time." Boss Poss smiled victoriously as he continued.

"Do you want to know how Pierre la Claire was given his name Ethyl?" Boss Poss asked his now large and inspired audience.
"Yes! How did he get it Daddy?" Sandy asked excitedly. "Well.., he paraded around in front of the other men in a satin nightie. As it turned out Paul had placed the nightie in Pierre's bag. When he opened it to get out a jumper he saw the nightie and as a joke he tried it on. A ranger came up to the camp site to talk to the whistling and hooting men, only to find one of them was wearing a beautiful pink satin nightie. On seeing the ranger Pierre dashed into the tent, leaving Paul and Mr. M laughing them selves silly trying to explain to the ranger what was going on. After the bewildered ranger left Harold started to tease Pierre.
'Hey Ethyl! You looked better in that nightie than my wife does. As a matter of fact she probably couldn't fit into the nightie!' Paul shook his head as he said to Harold.
'Now come on Harold, you are lucky your wife isn't here, those are campin' words that you are using you know.' From that day forward Pierre was also known as Ethyl and has never been able to live it down."

Laughter and the clinking of bottles could be heard as the three men began to settle in for the night. "Well, its time we were off to annoy the boys again," Boss Poss said as he made his way through the group towards the campsite.

The next night Lucy was busy going through the bins when she heard some possums asking Boss Poss to tell them another story about the men. As Boss gave in to their pleading she noisily lumbered across the ground to listen in on the story. "One bitterly cold October night, a drunken Pierre decided he wanted to go floundering. Both Paul and Mr. M sensibly refused. Unfortunately, Mr. M is not very strong willed and he had a change of heart. I suppose he decided that someone should go with him to make sure he didn't drown himself. As Paul and I sat comfortably around the campfire, him in his favourite blue chair and myself looking for scraps, we heard his drunken mates yelling.
'There's oonnee! Oh noo that's just ya foot Harroold,' Pierre yelled. 'Careful, don't get the battery in ya backpack wet Harroold, or ya will end up with curly hair! There's noo way in hell I'm dragin' yoouu all the way up to the camp site soo Paaull can fix ya up!' Pierre slurred. Tears ran down both Paul and mine's cheeks as we laughed ourselves silly, as we listened to his crazy friends stagger along the beach looking for flounder. But somehow they managed to make it back to the campsite without electrocuting or spearing them selves. It's amazing you know, I don't know how they survive their stupid exploits. One day they are going to hurt someone," Boss Poss said as he looked at the plastered men playing cards around the fire.
"Isn't there something that we can do?" Lucy asked desperately. "I mean look at them, they give us and this place a bad name!" "You think they are bad now, you should have been here when Harold had a snoring problem. It sounded like you were entering Heathrow airport in peak hour. One time they invited some of their gullible mates to join them. After the first night Shawn, one of their friends, decided to sleep in the car. But in the middle of the night you could hear a lot of muffled swearing as a car door opened and slammed shut. Shortly after another car door opened and shut and the engine was started. Shawn drove another few metres away from the snoring so he could get a good night's sleep. You know I don't blame him, I couldn't believe how much noise Mr. M. made! I think he was the only person getting a good night's sleep! But the problem was soon to be remedied, they all got so plastered for the rest of the trip, that they couldn't hear him snoring anyway."
"Well I suppose that is the most logical way for them to remedy that problem. I mean what else would come to their well pickled minds!" Lucy commented as she saw Harold stagger off into the dark leaving Pierre and Paul at the inviting fire.
"He must have had an operation because his ear splitting snore is now about the sound of a rumbling car engine. Plus both Pierre and Paul have discovered the wonders of earplugs. Now everyone gets a good night's sleep," Boss informed the crowd as they continued to watch the amusing humans. "Look Daddy, they are going to bed. Let's see what we can get. There is usually something lying around," Sandy said excitedly, his eyes gleaming. As they moved over they heard Paul talking to Pierre.
"You should put your food away or else the possums will get it."
"Don't be bloody stupid! Those possums wouldn't know how to open an eski." Pierre scoffed at Paul. A smile swept across the face of the possums as the men retired to bed.

The next morning, much to his delight, Paul was proved right, but only Pierre's food was missing.
"The possums must've heard you Pierre, serve yourself right!" Paul began to laugh with delight.
"My rolls! My expensive steak! My bacon and sausages! They've all been half eaten and dragged through the dirt. I bet it was Boss Poss who did that!" Pierre sank to the ground, as if he was hoping that the food would reappear. Boss Possum watched in anticipation as the event unfolded. He had stayed up late to see the result of his handi-work, and boy it was worth the effort! But as Pierre began to look for Boss Possum, he scurried off into the bush to a well-earned rest with an enormous grin on his face. As he did so he could hear the conversation continue.
"That will teach you, won't it Pierre, they must've heard you last night." Paul teased Pierre.
"So what's for breakfast guys?" Harold said amusingly. "Oh ha ha, very funny. Now I will have to go into town to get more food." Pierre whinged. "Can you wait until after breakfast, we're starved!" Harold said teasingly. "Don't you start those campin' words with me Harold! This is getting to be beyond a joke. I'm starving!" Pierre sneered.

As he made his way back home he could still hear the men laughing and teasing Pierre, Boss just shook his head and said, "Humans, they are a disgrace to the animal kingdom! You would never catch a possum doing something that degrading!" When he arrived home Boss Poss talked about last night's incident to Sandy and the outcome of it. "I suppose this incident will lead to them to using those Campin' Words more often. Now remember my son that in their world it's just an expression, as it is a joke to them. Campin' Words are to be taken lightly and not to heart. They are only to be said while you are camping and are not acceptable at any other time. One of the golden rules of camping also came out of this incident. Always lock up your food, because if you don't WE will get it!" Both Sandy and Boss Possum laughed to themselves as they made their way to bed. "Will there be any more stories Dad?" Sandy asked Boss as he made himself comfortable.
"Well, I suppose as it comes around to October again we, the respected society of possums, will report on the goings on of these men, who are foolish enough to brave the chilling nights. I'm quite sure that there will be plenty of stories to tell.

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