[ WP ] Your party makes camp for the night , and you 're first on watch . Unfortunately , someone foraged psychotropic mushrooms for dinner .

`` Wait, what the fuck? Did you just speak?'' 
 I stared intently at the stick. *You're imagining things*, I told myself, *it's late, you're alone; your mind is playing tr-* 
 `` Oh grand! The man has ears'' the stick said. `` Now throw me a little closer to fire!'' Said the stick. `` It's cold is n't it? I tell ya, the moss ai n't as thick as it used to be, and it ai n't the time of year to be a stick. It's not like we have jumpers like you. Come on, toss me a little closer!'' 
 I carefully practised my throw. 
 `` Ahh that's right, now chuck me over there, that'll be grand, th-AHHHHHHH'' 
 `` Fuck!'' I yelled. `` Oh fuck I'm sorry I did n't mean to throw you that far. Shit!'' 
 The stick crackled in agony. `` AHHHH YA FUCKER, I'LL PISS ON YOUR GRAVE YA CLUMSY FUCKIN IDIOT,'' It called. `` WHY DONT YOU JUMP IN HERE AND SAVE ME YA FUCKIN DOZY TWAT. YOU THREW ME IN A FUCKIN FIRE!'' 
 `` Shut up!'' I hissed. `` You'll wake the others, shut the fuck up!'' 
 `` IM BURNING ALIVE AND YOU'RE TELLING ME NOT TO WAKE THE FUCKERS UP? THE FUCK'S THE MATTER WITH YOU? HELP ME! HELP MEE!'' 
 I had to do something. I could n't be caught in this. How long would I get for killing a stick? 5 years? Maybe 10? I had to drown it out, so I started to scream as loudly as I could. Suddenly, Paul's tent unzipped, and he came tumbling out. 
 `` They're here! The monster has found us! RUN!'' He disappeared into the trees. 
 The hell was he talking about,'monsters'? But that was when I noticed. My arms... They were thick with black fur. My nails were yellow, and pointed. And my breathing was almost a growl. I realised then that *I was the monster*. I'd killed a stick in cold blood. And now I had a taste for more. I eyed Kevin's tent hungrily. I could hear his pulse, feel the rush of his blood. His scent carried even through the tent. I started to drool. 
 
 I found that I was now walking on all fours. I stalked over to the tent, and used my nail to make an incision in the canvas. It resisted my efforts however. Somehow, my nail was not sharp enough... It was no ordinary tent. I realised too late that it had to be a trap. I was n't about to become someone's pet, so I let out a mighty roar and leapt backwards with all my might. But it was too late. A tree had already snuck up behind me, and used its trunk to strike my skull. I swayed dizzily, and just before collapsing, I heard something shout: 
 `` THANKS MA, HE FUCKIN DESERVED IT'' from the campfire. 
 
 
 

