Dom Olivadoti

It was 9th grade, and I was starting out at a new school. I was doing well making new friends and our group would always sit at the lunch tables at the front of the school. I was off to a good start. 

But then, suddenly, there was Outdoor Ed. For the ninth grade trip, we were headed to Big Bear, and I was excited to find out who was in my cabin. Was I going to be with my friends? 

I was expecting a small hut, a one room place, for us all to sleep. When we got there, we found out that we were going to have our own bathrooms! I thought that was pretty cool. However, as soon as I got to my cabin we discovered that our bathroom was flooded. We opened the closet to find a giant can of Barbasol shaving cream and three fart bombs. Fart bombs are these little bags with a liquid packet inside. When the packet is squished, the chemicals inside react, which causes the bag to pop, and a hideous odor to fill the entire area. My friend, Landon, had been the one that opened the closet and when he did, he had turned around to all of us and smiled with the most evil-maniacal grin that you had ever seen. Everyone had their share of giggles when they saw the “holy grail” that we had found in the closet. No words were exchanged, but we all knew that what we had found was going to turn our entire trip into something fun and hilarious, OR something right out of a nightmare, Mostly because no one in our cabin could be trusted with fart bombs OR shaving cream. 

That night , when I was brushing my teeth standing in a puddle on the floor, I saw that the shaving cream canister was on the ground... “Meh, who cares.” I thought. The next morning, when I stepped into the tub to take a shower, it was cold, squishy, and nasty. The entire tub was filled with shaving cream. I yelled “What the heck is this?” as I beat the shower door with my fist. The shaving cream had blended in with the tub and I never saw it. Outside the door was the roaring laughter from all of the guys sitting in their bunks. I rinsed off my feet and carried on with my day. I knew that I was going to get those guys back for what they did, and it was going to be hilarious. I put a fart bomb in my pocket.

There was the call. “Meet your naturalist!” It was almost lunch time. I was walking to meet up with my advisory, and my group leader. The area was filled with tall pine trees, and we were near a trail. Suddenly, I heard a sizzling in my pocket, and I quickly realized that the fart bomb was expanding. I chucked it behind a rock, and no one seemed to notice. I then ran to meet up with my group, about 15 feet away, and a couple seconds later I heard a loud POP sound and everyone looked over at the rock that I had just thrown a fart bomb at. Someone asked “what was that?” to no one in particular. I tried to cover it up by saying that it must have been a pine cone falling or something. The conversation started to carry on, but to my horror, a second later, I felt a slight gust of wind blowing in our direction. I was shaking as I watched the entire group’s faces as they inhaled the essence of the fart bomb. People were gagging, holding their noses, and bending over from the excruciating stench that was in the air, and I was terrified because this was my advisory group, NOT my cabin group, and if anyone found out that it was me that did this then I don’t even KNOW what would happen. When I glanced at Mr. Brammah he had a “different” look on his face, like he wasn’t grossed out or anything, he just looked confused. Our group leader was trying to play it off like “it’s probably the ducks that live close by or something” to make it seem like it wasn’t OUR campsite that had that toxic odor. She continued on giving facts about ducks, but no one cared at that moment, they were all too preoccupied with being grossed out.

Our group leader kept talking to us, and lecturing about our plan for what we were going to do that day. I wasn’t really listening. I was too busy losing it inside my head about what had just happened. Ten or fifteen minutes later, we finished our discussion and we continued hiking. I took my place in the back of the group, because I was NOT about to have a discussion with anyone, just in case they brought up “the smell” or anything. The scent was long gone, but Mr. Brammah still had that weird look on his face, and that made me worried. When no one was paying attention, he pulled me aside while we were walking and started a casual conversation about stink bombs, and remembering a certain smell from his childhood. He definitely knew it was me, there was no point in denying it anymore. I just confessed that it was me, and he asked me to go back and pick up the fart bomb that I had left behind. I was scared for a minute that I was about to get in big trouble, but after I picked it up and we continued walking back to our trailgroup, he said something along the lines of that being “well executed”, and I’m pretty sure he gave me a high five. All I could say in response was that “it was pretty ok.”

During my years at RHP I became good friends with many of the people that were in my cabin. I learned that there is a time and place for fart bombs. Throughout my time at high school, I grew closer to my teachers and friends. Although my future probably won’t include pranks with barbasol and fart bombs, I am looking forward to going to college and beyond.