HH camping

Once upon a time, there were three hardworking friends: Baxter, Niffty, and me, Sir Pentious. We went fishing all day and, by the end, we had caught 500 fish! Excited, Baxter flapped his tail, Niffty twirled with joy, and I slithered proudly around the huge pile. “Who will help us season the fish?” I asked. “I’m too busy!” Angel Dust replied. “Not me,” Alastor said with a smile. Husk grumbled, “I don’t feel like it.” Lucifer just shook his head. Cherri shrugged. Charlie looked away. Vaggie crossed her arms. “Then I guess we’ll do it ourselves!” Baxter clucked. Once the fish were seasoned, I asked again, “Who helped us cook the fish?” “Uh… nope!” Angel Dust said. “Not I,” Alastor replied. “Cooking’s your problem,” Husk muttered. Lucifer yawned. Cherri waved. Charlie shook her head. Vaggie rolled her eyes. “Fine! We’ll do it ourselves,” Niffty chirped, sprinkling the last of the spices and flipping the fish. Finally, the fish were almost ready. I asked one last time, “Who helped us blow the heat off the fish so we could eat it?” “Nope!” they all shouted together. “Not a chance,” Alastor added. Baxter, Niffty, and I looked at each other. “Then you get nothing,” I hissed. And with that, the three of us—Baxter, Niffty, and me—Sir Pentious—sat down and enjoyed all 500 fish while Angel Dust, Alastor, Husk, Lucifer, Cherri, Charlie, and Vaggie went hungry. The End.

After the great 500-fish feast, Baxter, Niffty, and I—Sir Pentious—were feeling pretty proud. But guess what? The lazy bunch—Angel Dust, Alastor, Husk, Lucifer, Cherri, Charlie, and Vaggie—had learned absolutely nothing. One sunny morning, Niffty had an idea. “Let’s make 500 cupcakes this time!” she squealed. “Excellent idea!” Baxter clapped his paws. “We’ll do it ourselves again if no one helps.” So we gathered flour, sugar, eggs, and all the sprinkles in the world. I slithered around, announcing, “Who will help us mix the batter?” “Ugh… too much effort,” Alastor said. “Not interested,” Husk grumbled. “Mixing is beneath me,” Lucifer added. Angel Dust, Cherri, Charlie, and Vaggie all shook their heads. “Then we’ll do it ourselves!” Niffty cheered. After mixing, I asked, “Who helped us bake the cupcakes?” “Oh, no thanks!” Angel Dust replied. “I have other plans,” Alastor said. “Baking? Not me,” Husk grunted. “Not my style,” Lucifer waved. The others all mumbled “no.” “Fine! More cupcakes for us, then!” Baxter declared. Finally, the cupcakes were golden, sweet, and steaming hot. I asked one last time, “Who helped us cool the cupcakes?” “Not me!” they all chorused. “Nope!” Alastor added. “Why should I?” Lucifer said. I raised my claw. “Then you get nothing again!” And so, once again, Baxter, Niffty, and I enjoyed all 500 cupcakes. The others sat there, staring, licking their lips… but learning that hard work earns the reward. Niffty twirled. “Maybe next time they’ll help!” Baxter shook his head. “Doubt it.” I slithered, hissing happily, “Either way… the feast is ours!” The End

After the fish feast and the cupcake catastrophe, Baxter, Niffty, and I—Sir Pentious—were feeling unstoppable. But the lazy gang—Angel Dust, Alastor, Husk, Lucifer, Cherri, Charlie, and Vaggie—still hadn’t learned a thing. This time, Niffty squealed, “Let’s make 500 escargots!” I hissed with excitement. “Yes! But we’ll see who actually works for this feast.” We gathered the snails, butter, garlic, and all the seasonings. I turned to the gang and asked, “Who will help us prepare the escargots?” “Ew… no,” Angel Dust said, recoiling. “Absolutely not,” Alastor said, folding his arms. “Snails are gross,” Husk grumbled. “I’ll pass,” Lucifer waved. Cherri, Charlie, and Vaggie all shook their heads in unison. Baxter clucked proudly. “Then we’ll do it ourselves!” Niffty twirled her little cleaning cloth and got to work, while I slithered around supervising. After preparing the escargots, I asked again, “Who helped us cook the escargots?” “Not me!” Angel Dust shouted. “Nope!” Alastor added. “Cooking is your job, not mine,” Husk muttered. “I don’t touch snails,” Lucifer said. The others all murmured “no” in perfect chorus. “Then we cook them ourselves!” Baxter declared. Finally, the escargots were golden, buttery, and steaming. I raised my claws and asked one last time, “Who helped us blow off the heat so we could eat?” “Nope!” they all yelled. “Not a chance!” Alastor hissed. “Absolutely not,” Lucifer agreed. I glared at them and hissed, “Then you get nothing!” Baxter, Niffty, and I dove into all 500 escargots, savoring each buttery, garlicky bite. The lazy gang sat there, licking their lips, hungry, frustrated, and very, very regretful. Baxter clucked happily, Niffty twirled with joy, and I slithered smugly around the empty plates. “Three feasts, three times the lesson,” I said. “Hard work gets the reward, laziness gets… nothing!” The gang never tried to skip work again… or at least, that’s what we like to think. The End.