I was at Boy Scout camp one year, and there was this camp counselor named Hester. She was a blonde Swedish girl who worked at the waterfront and was brimming with nice delicious breasts. I think she existed solely to tease the hormone-raging adolescents to attended the camp. But I digress...

My particular troop was one of the most hated in camp. We didn't give a shit about "Scouting". We were more concerned with lighting fires and using sharp, bladed objects, and generally pissing off folks that went to camp to (*gasp*) earn merit badges. Another pastime we had was smuggling as much food from the dining hall as we could without getting caught. Said food would then be sacrificed later that night in that night's bonfire of many non-wood objects.

We had managed to get a wide variety of foods - rolls, fruit, pudding, even an entire ham, but the Holy Grail had avoided us. We had to acquire an entire 12 serving shepherds pie. Luckily, we had our chance...

The group was equally divided into two camps: wimps, and those with the intestinal fortitude to forego dinner for a greater cause. We had weeded out the non-believers and formed a solid group who would sit together. Mealtime arrived. It was the zero hour. The time had come. There was nothing that could stop us! Nothing... but...

Hester. You see, every table must have at least one camp counselor at it, and Hester decided, as she often did, to sit at our table. I think this was because she respected the fact that we outwardly flirted with her, rather than the standard introvert Boy Scout who gathers up mental images and then "pitches his own tent" later that night. But again, I digress. Hester was hungry. We tried to placate her with bread and punch, but it was to no avail - she wanted shepherds pie. We came clean and told her of our plan, hoping that she would see the bigger picture. Instead, she started toying with us!

"Well, then," she said in that sweet Swedish accent, "I won't have any unless you guys have some. But Chris, wouldn't you like some shepherds pie?"

Chris shook his head. He was far too young to fall victim to such wily charms.

"Jason, how about you?"

No dice. Jason was perhaps the one among us who loved fire more than anything else in the world.

"Timothy, wouldn't you love to share some delicious shepherds pie with me?"

Jackpot! I've never seen a shepherds pie torn into so quickly. Hormones can do that to a shepherds pie, I guess. After that, saving the rest of the pie became a moot point. Tim never lived it down, though. His Oreo stash was sacrificed to the fire god that night, and he was open-aired that night after he went to sleep.

Jeez. I guess the moral of the story is that if you're a buxom Swedish blonde, you can get a teenager to do anything you say, just by using the words "love", "share", "me", and "delicious".