Predator Press
[LOBO]
A badly sunburned Lars Arson stumbles into the campsite about 9pm. His Hawaiian shirt is tattered, and he is wearing only one flip-flop.
He has been missing for seven hours.
Music is playing, glow sticks are flying, the grilled food smell wafts through the air, and a naked woman is working a hula hoop by the bonfire.
"We were playing 'Capture the Flag!'" he gasps between gulps of water.
"Right," I says, pulling a blue rag from my back pocket. "Here. You win."
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