A boy was riding his bike along an old road and had become lost. He was trying to find his way back to a gas station to get directions when it began to rain. He pulled his jacket up over his head to help keep the rain away, but it began to rain harder. Then it began to thunder and lightning, so he knew that he must find shelter quickly.
Up ahead he saw an old abandoned house, so he ran onto the porch. Certainly nobody would mind. But the wind began to blow and blew the door right open. The wind blew so hard, that it blew the rain onto the porch soaking the boy even more. So he went inside to get out of the rain. The house was very large and though it was abandoned, dirty, full of cobwebs and in need of some repair, it kept the boy dry.
A big gust of wind blew in the door and then back out again, slamming the door shut. The boy tried to open the door, but the rain had caused the door to swell, wedging it in the door frame when it slammed. He could not open it.
Just then, he heard a voice call out, 'Do you know what I do with my red sloppity lips and my long green fingers?'
Next to the door was a large, green hairy monster with huge red lips, pointed fangs, and gangly legs and arms with very long green fingernails. The boy panicked and ran down the hall. The monster followed.
Again, he heard the monster say, 'Do you know what I do with my red sloppity lips and my long green fingers?' as he followed him down the hall.
The boy ran up some stairs at the end of the hall. And the monster pursued him.
The monster was getting closer, and he heard the monster say louder, 'Do you know what I do with my red sloppity lips and my long green fingers?'
The boy ran away from the monster down the hall at the top of the stairs and into a room at the end of the hall, closing the door behind him. But he heard loud footsteps coming down the hall. And he had run into a room with no windows, so he hid in the closet.
The bedroom door crashed open and again he heard the monster say even louder, 'Do you know what I do with my red sloppity lips and my long green fingers?'
The boy tucked himself into a corner of the closet and hid as best as he could. The closet door opened wide and the huge hairy monster stood before him. Again, so loud that it hurt the boy's ears, the monster once again said, 'Do you know what I do with my red sloppity lips and my long green fingers?'
The boy shook as he answered with fear in a quiet voice 'no'.
The monster said, 'Then I'll show you!'
BLBLBLBLBLBLBLBL (Put your fingers to your lips and strum them across your lips while you make a 'b' sound. Cross your eyes when you do this if you can. This should result in the desired silly effect.)
Scouts on an Indian Grave Story
A few years ago, we lost 2 scouts near here. There used to be campsites over in that area, but its all closed to camping now. Our patrol set up camp, did their scouting things, had campfire, and got ready for bed - 2 scouts per tent.
Around 2:30 in the morning, there was an awful, blood-curdling scream that echoed all across the prairie here. Everyone woke up and I got on my shoes and ran over to the tent where the scream had come from and where I could hear someone crying hysterically. I opened the tent and there was one scout sitting there crying.
'Where's Randy?' I asked.
'I don't know. He's just gone!' said Joey, the scout. 'I just heard some weird scraping sound and then Randy screamed and was gone.'
Looking around with my flashlight, I saw Randy's sleeping bag torn to shreds. There was also some blood on it. But, there were no rips in the tent and Randy's shoes were still sitting by the door just fine. But, looking again, I noticed the floor of the tent had a large rip in it under Randy's sleeping bag.
I told the other scouts that had gotten up to go in pairs and patrol the campsite looking for any clues, but to not go more than 50 feet out. I ran to the park ranger's cabin for help.
About 5 minutes later, the ranger and I were running back here when we heard another awful scream. When we got here, all the boys were crowded around the campfire - all except Joey. The scouts said the scream came from Joey's tent but none of them would go near it. They said they had heard some scraping noises and then Joey's scream and then silence.
I opened the tent flap and Joey's sleeping bag was ripped up just like Randy's and the floor of the tent was shredded.
The park ranger called 911 and in about an hour, just around dawn, the sheriff was here with dogs. They searched the entire camp - not a trace of either boy.
The local newspaper had a story of the tragedy and the investigation continued for weeks. The boys' folks were heartbroken and our troop had a rough time of it too.
A couple days afterward, I got a call from an archaeologist expert in local Indian history. He said that the tribe of Indians that used to inhabit this area were especially ruthless and fought the whiteman's invasion to the very last person. Their burial grounds were protected with many signs and curses and he believed that there was a burial ground somewhere on the camp property. I contacted the park ranger and he, the expert, and I spent a weekend exploring the area where we had camped.
After some digging, sure enough, he found some bones, arrowheads, and knives. He also found a Boy Scout kerchief slide and compass - they were marked with R.R. - Randy Roberts. These were found in an Indian grave 4 feet underground directly under where Randy and Joey had pitched their tent. We quickly filled in the excavation and then the ranger closed off that part of camp and seeded it with nettles, poison ivy, and brambles to keep everyone away.
To this day, I'm a very light sleeper when out camping. When I lay down, the slightest rock or root beneath my tent will keep me awake remembering how Joey and the other boys described the scraping sounds - and wondering if it is really just a root, or maybe a finger.
