The Weenies or Frankenweenies

[Sebastian]

It was a cold night in Michigan, but nothing would ruin this camping trip. Bobby and his dad had been planning for WEEKS and he could not pass up the chance. They had even bough a bag or two of hot dogs to cook over the fire. They were a new brand he didn’t recognize but they were the cheapest and they had to conserve money whenever possible considering his dad was having a hard time holding down a job. “Good for nothing jerk, at least he is taking me camping,” Bobby thought, “ Though it’s not like it will make up for him shoving two jobs on mom.” They pulled up to the campgrounds “Camp Lots-O-Fun” the sign read. It was probably once a summer camp for kids but now its open to the public. It didn’t matter to Bobby as long as they got to roast the weenies.

They paid for parking and instead of renting them a cabin his dad just went up to a bare spot on the ground and pitched two small tents, he then laid two ragged sleeping bags down, one inside each tent. “Dad, you HAVE to be kidding me,” Bobby said, “This is pathetic, what were you thinking!”

I was thinking,” Bobby’s dad began, “ that the parking alone was more then your mother wanted spent, she doesn’t like me spending too much. I don’t get it, I wonder why that is. Look son there is still a fire pit over there, we can still roast some weenies later.”

So I guessed something sparked in Bobby because he shut his trap after that and fluffed his sleeping bag. As long as they had those hot dogs he was fine. “I know son! Let’s look at the stars and try to make shapes or find constellations.”

“No way dad, that’s lame,” Bobby was a little annoyed. He wished he could play an Playstation or XBOX, but he couldn't afford any. He didn’t even bring his used PSP.

“Then lets look around at the wildlife or take a hike in the woods!”

“Still REALLY lame dad, in fact that idea was worse, besides… I’m tired.”

“Tired! It’s only seven thirty, I remember when I went camping with my pop we…”

“Oh! Was he as cheap as you are, did he have trouble holding down a job? I wouldn’t know seeing as he died before I was born! Of a stroke too! Stupid old man I bet all he did was sit around smoking and drinking! That’s what Grandmother told me! Maybe mom and I should live with her! At least she STILL has a good job as a teacher, and she’s SEVENTY-THREE!”

“Stop yelling son! Just hand me the stinking weenies!”

“Fine! That’s the only reason I came on this stupid trip!” His dad stormed over to the fire pit. There was already wood left there from earlier so the fire was quickly started. Bobby ripped the hot dogs from his dad’s bag. “Frankenweenies” the label read. That was quite an odd name; below the name it read “Definitely brings life to the party!” Well, no matter what it said he was going to eat them. “Found them!”

He ripped open the package and got ready to stick one on a nice stick when… SNAP! It jumped out of Bobby’s hands and chomped on his nose. The others quickly jumped out of the package and got two huge sticks. Then they came toward Bobby and his dad. Their screams could be heard miles away. I guess the weenies weren’t the ones roasted and eaten that night.

Sadly no one believes this story. They can’t find any more Frankenweenies, but I no for a fact that they are being sold in some small store they overlooked, though I’m not sure where. Be warned, the Frankenweenies might take over the world someday. All because they didn’t believe this story. You can though, you can still believe, and save yourself and your friends, from Frankenweenies. When they come to your town they could have a different name but just stay away and stick to regular brands like Oscar Meier or Johnsonville. That way they have no income to spread. You, reader, are our only hope.

Edited October 16, 2012 by Emotional Outlet