The Legend of the Pico Paste

In the hills above Big Sur, California there was a boy scout camp called Camp Pico Blanco. The camp's cafeteria was famous for an oatmeal recipe known among boy scouts far and wide as pico paste. It was a grey gruel so thick and flavorless it functioned better as an adhesive than food, a theory put to the test repeatedly by many. Boy scouts would get in trouble for spreading pico paste on a plate and pressing the plate to a cabin wall. The boy scouts made bets about how long the plate would stay in place, betting money, candy, trinkets, or chores in pico paste roulette.

The summer after fifth grade, our boy scout troop, Troop 831, was gearing up for a trip to Camp Pico Blanco. Having heard the legend of the pico paste from another boy scout troop, our troop began to speculate.

"We should bring extra candy and snack to bet on the roulette," Andrew said. Andrew was a fat kid afraid of bears, an expert in electronics with a merit badge in computer programming.

"We could even bet money on it," Cody said. Cody was a skateboarder with acne and nerves of steel. He didn't have any merit badges, but he was really good at burning things. He had a zippo lighter he stole from his stepdad that he flipped open and closed.

"You guys aren't thinking big enough," I said, pushing my glasses up my nose. "I say we put on our own pico paste roulette, but take it further than anyone ever has before."

"What do you have in mind?" they asked.

"We're going to plant a plate of pico paste on the ceiling."

"Whoa!" Andrew said, getting hyped.

"People will bet more than ever with those kinds of stakes!" Cody said.

"That's the idea," I said. "If we play our cards right, we'll come out of this rich. Here's the plan."

#

On the day we arrived at Camp Pico Blanco, the air was thick with anticipation. Pico paste would be served with breakfast the following morning. Every member of our troop knew their job. Our plan was in motion.

The next morning. Andrew distracted a camp advisor while Cody stole a ladder from the utility closet. As the troop's physics expert, the job fell to me execute the most important part of our plan. And by physics expert, I mean I made a volcano science project one time to get a physics merit badge.

I went through the cafeteria line with a plate.

"How's the pico paste this morning?" I asked the cafeteria worker as casually as I could.

The minimum-wage cafeteria worker was an older high school kid. He shrugged. "I wouldn't eat it. Crap looks like wet cement."

"Perfect. I'll take a scoop."

The cafeteria worker slopped a heavy ladle full of pico paste onto my plate. It's grey gelatinous mass almost held the form of the ladle. I smeared the pico paste around the plate with one hand. My working theory was to get a thin, even layer across the plate, maximizing the adhesive's surface area.

I looked to my left. Andrew winked at me and pretended to trip and fall, distracting the only camp advisor in the room saying he'd sprained his ankle. I looked to my left and gave Cody a signal. Cody ran the ladder to where I stood at the center of the cafeteria full of boy scouts. I climbed the ladder to the top and planted the plate of pico paste firmly on the ceiling.

As we executed our plan, scouts from other troops looked on in anticipation and amazement, talking excitedly to each other in hushed tones as the pico paste remained in place.

Andrew, Cody, and I regrouped after breakfast.

"Start spreading the word," I said, pushing my glasses up my nose. "We're taking bets on the pico paste roulette, and we're staking all of our junk food as part of the winnings."

We high-fived each other, but before we could split up, three other scouts walked up to us.

"Hey you!" said their leader with a vicious smile. He was flanked by a pair of bigger kids. "You think you can start the pico paste roulette?"

"Yeah," Cody said defiantly. "So?"

"The roulette is our game."

"Who are you exactly?" Andrew asked.

"I'm Leo. This is my troop."

Leo's lackeys flexed.

"Guys," I said, holding up my hands. "Listen. I'm sure we can work something out. What do you say?"

Leo stepped forward and looked down his nose at me. His face was so close to mine his breath fogged up my glasses, but I stood my ground.

"You're going to tell everyone that we're the ones taking bets on the roulette, not you," he said.

I took a moment to consider. I could smell Leo's body odor. "Here's the thing," I said. "I'm very sorry we stepped on your toes. But, when it comes to the roulette—" I took off my glasses to wipe Leo's breath off of them, then placed them back on my face and pushed them up my nose. "You snooze, you lose, my friend."

A tense moment followed. Leo and his thugs breathed down on us. I knew calling their bluff was a gamble. I half expected to get a knuckle sandwich any second.

But finally, after what felt like an eternity of standing our ground, Leo spoke.

"This isn't over," he said. Then he turned and walked away. His goons followed.

"Phew!" Andrew said once they were out of earshot. "That was close."

I realized I'd been holding my breath, too.

"Yeah," I said. "Let's start taking bets. But watch each other's backs, okay?"

Andrew and Cody nodded in agreement.

#

The rules of Pico Paste Roulette were simple. You could make a bet on when the plate will fall for any time during the week, handing over snacks or treats as part of the bet. If you guessed correctly within a one minute margin of the plate hitting the floor, you win the pot. Otherwise, you lost, and your snacks were added to the pot. A bet early on in the week was a safer bet, but you didn't stand to win much. A bet later in the week was more risky. But if the plate stayed up that long, the winnings could be enormous. If nobody won the roulette by the end of the week, the house took it all.

Scouts came from far and wide across the camp to make their bets. Andrew kept a detailed log of everyone's bets and which troop they belonged to. Before long our cabin was junk food heaven.

Scouts across the camp worked on merit badges, went on day hikes, and attended workshops. But the talk of the camp was the Pico Paste Roulette. We were becoming fast legends of the camp.

#

The week went by in a haze. Every morning we rushed to the cafeteria to see the plate still stuck to the ceiling. Our cabin was so full of snacks and junk food that we barely had enough room to sleep on our beds. Leo and his troop gave us nasty looks at every turn, but we counted on them not risking a direct confrontation.

On the morning of the last day of camp, the cafeteria was buzzing with excitement. A keen observer pointed out that one side of the plate had come free from the ceiling by a fraction of an inch. Even more bets came in.

In the excitement of incoming bets, we didn't see Leo and his goons approach our table until the last moment. A hush descended on the cafeteria.

"Morning Leo," I said. "What brings you to this side of the cafeteria?"

"We wanna place a bet," Leo said. He snapped his fingers and another scout from his troop began unloading packages of sandwich cookies, pastries, and bags of chips onto our table in an enormous pile of food.

Cody's eyes bulged. Andrew licked his lips. But I didn't break eye contact with Leo for a second.

"You're welcome to participate, of course," I said. "What's your bet?"

"The plate is gonna fall before the end of supper tonight at 7:00," he said.

Everyone looked from Leo to me.

"Andrew," I said, still not breaking eye contact with Leo. "Take down his bet."

"Sure thing," Andrew said.

"Anything else we can help you with?" I asked.

Leo ignored the question. "Let's go," Leo said to his troop, and they turned and walked away.

"What do you think?" Cody whispered to me, nervously flicking his lighter open and closed.

"They're up to something," I said. "There's got to be an angle we don't see that they plan to exploit. At least that's what I would do. Be on your guard, guys," I said, pushing my glasses up my nose. "This ain't over yet."

#

5:42 pm

The time for supper rapidly approached on the last day of camp. We were vigilant as ever. The winnings pot was an absolute mountain of candy and junk food from bets made and lost throughout the week. The plate had shifted slightly, as though it might fall at any moment, but the pico paste still held tight.

6:29 pm

Scouts lined up outside the cafeteria to gain entry before the doors were opened. Whispers spread of Leo's enormous bet. When the doors to the cafeteria opened, everyone rushed in to see the plate still attached to the ceiling.

6:56 pm

As dinner began to wind down, I watched Leo carefully. I knew he was up to something. I glanced at the clock in the cafeteria every minute, willing time to go faster, but it only slowed down.

With only a few minutes left to 7:00, Leo smiled wickedly at me, got up from his seat, and walked over to a camp councilor.

Leo put on a contrite expression as he spoke with the camp councilor. "As someone who's started betting games in the camp before," I heard him say. "I feel like it's my responsibility to tell you—"

"He's ratting on us!" I whispered.

"Why would he do that?" Andrew said.

"If he rats on us, then we have to take down the plate." Cody said.

"And if he times it just right, not only do we get busted for gambling, but he'll also win the roulette," I said.

I cursed myself for not seeing this coming.

"What do we do?" Andrew asked.

I thought as fast as I could. As we watched, Leo pointed at the ceiling, drawing the camp councilor's attention to the plate stuck there with pico paste.

I looked at the clock. Time was moving too slow before, now the second hand was racing far too fast. "We gotta stall him. If the plate hits the ground before 7:01, he's going to take everything. We're gonna need every second we can get. Here's the plan."

6:59:20 pm

Leo stepped onto the bottom rung of the ladder, cleaning supplies under his arm and a self-satisfied smirk on his face. All the scouts in the cafeteria watched, enraptured.

I gave Andrew and Cody signals to execute the plan.

"Oof!" Andrew shouted, falling down and knocking over the ladder.

"You alright?" the camp councilor asked.

"Ow! My ankle! I twisted it."

Leo looked furious. He glanced at the clock, shot a hateful look at me, righted the ladder, and began to climb. Andrew gave an award-winning performance, but we needed more time.

6:59:48 pm

Leo wasn't even halfway up the ladder when someone shouted "Fire!"

Black smoke eschewed from the kitchen as a fire burned in the trash bin. I looked over to see Cody flick his zippo lighter closed and stuff it into his pocket. Scouts and councilors alike covered their ears as the fire alarm went off. The camp councilor began ushering scouts outside. Leo paused at the mention of a fire, but only for a moment.

7:00:11 pm

Leo was at the top of the ladder. I was out of distractions. With the camp councilor organizing an exodus from the room and cooks scrambling to put out the fire in the trash bin, the cafeteria was a scene of chaos.

"Hey Leo!" I shouted up to him in between the pulsing screech of the fire alarm.

He looked down at me. All I had was a split second to do something to distract him. Not knowing what else to do, I turned, pulled down my pants, and showing him my ass.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Leo roared from the top of the ladder.

Encouraged by how much my pasty white butt cheeks infuriated him, I shook my rump back and forth.

Leo screamed obscenities at me. But only for a few seconds. Leo looked up at the clock on the wall, pointed at it, and said, "I'm taking the roulette pot! You can't stop me!"

7:00:29 pm

Leo reached up and grabbed the plate with two hands and pulled. We watched in horror as all our spoils we about to disappear.

But the plate didn't budge.

Leo grunted and yanked harder.

The plate still didn't move.

Leo climbed to very top of the ladder, the step you weren't supposed to use, and pulled harder on the plate. The ladder shook.

"Whoa! Leo, be careful!" I shouted.

"You can't stop me!" Leo said and gave a big tug.

The ladder flew out from beneath Leo and clattered to the floor.

7:00:32 pm

I winced, expecting to see Leo hit the floor. thinking Leo was going to seriously injure himself. But Leo didn't fall. Instead, Andrew, Cody, and I looked up in awe at Leo's kicking feet as he hung by his fingertips from a plate still stuck fast to the ceiling of the cafeteria.

"Get me down!" Leo shouted.

Andrew, Cody, and I looked from Leo to the clock.

"We will," I said smiling. "In about twenty seconds."

#

By the time a custodian came around with a hammer and chisel to scrape the plate free from the ceiling, the three of use were rich. The mountain of candy and snacks we'd accumulated would last us for a year at least. When the plate finally came free, a layer of plaster from the ceiling came with it.

"Man, I love pico paste," I said, patting Andrew and Cody on the back. "That stuff is legendary."

##