The campers and I have just returned from our dog-paddling races. Because of the ungodly gasoline prices, I was forced to cancel our trip to Lake Lewisville. Instead, the children swam in the creek near my house. Aside from a minor incident with a snapping turtle, everything went well.
I have begun to see a change in the human campers. At first, they resisted my methods. I encountered much crying, many calls to go home. During our circular marathon yesterday, many of the children complained of dizziness and nausea. But I showed no sympathy. Like a drill sergeant, I demanded that they finish the 26-mile race. And now the campers are beginning to come around. Their defiance is being replaced by obedience, a desire to serve the canine race. This was all part of my plan. From the start, I knew that I had to break the youths down so that I could rebuild them in my image. God willing, we will produce the next generation of ayatollahs. Or, in the case of the human campers, the next generation of ayatollahs' servants.
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