The only person who hadn’t gotten seriously punked by now was Norman. Not that I thought the Bobcats had forgotten about him. It was more like they were saving the worst for last.
That night was the camp play, You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. And just like with the camp dance, we all had to go.
Was it any good? Let me put it this way: If you took a car wreck, a stink bomb, and a bunch of seriously awful singing and somehow mixed them all up together in a blender, you might have something about as bad as that show.