Recon children

When I was a little tyke I always wanted to become a special operation soldier. Now this isn't out of the ordinary or anything for an 8 year old child, we all want to become policemen or army dudes. However, I got walkie-talkies for Christmas one year and it really got me going.
A week after I got these shiny new two-way radios we went to our annual Loseth Christmas get-together for 3 days at Christopher Lake. I loved it there, lots of family I could talk to and intense games of crokinole. Yes, life could be no better than that. However this year it was better because of my new gadgets. When we got there (our family was almost always last to arrive) I unloaded my stuff and ran to my room where I would be staying, claiming bottom bed. I then whipped out my walkies to show off to the three cousins I would be hanging out with all weekend.
Well, I was surprised to know that my older cousin Jason had also got walkie-talkies. I was also jealous because unlike my pink and black ones (which looked really sweet), he had a base set, my guess is for the headquarters, and then two other hand-held ones. And his were camo! I swallowed my pride and we all ran downstairs to make a base and start the reconnaissance.
After making a fort out of beds and mattresses, we quickly set up teams to go and spy on the older cousins. Now this year was scary, because there was some new faces in the place we were staying. My cousin had brought her boyfriend or fiance or something like that, and I was scared of him. He looked frightening, bald with piercings and what-not. Yes, I was truly going to have to watch myself around him, I couldn't trust him.
Well, we started out, all 3 of us, to go upstairs and start the spying. I think that Jason and Luke stayed downstairs, but I could be badly mistaken. I know someone was down there because I was talking to then via the new expensive toys.
As we started to watch two of my cousins, the one with the scary dude and her brother, who was also bald, something bad started to develop. They saw us. I don't know how they figured out we were spying on them, maybe it was the fact we sat underneath tables with walkie-talkies strapped to our bodies and our eyes glued to them. This is only a guess however, because the real reason is unknown.
Then my smallest cousin, who happened to be the bravest of us all, started to crawl towards the table at which these guys sitting around. I began to scream into the walkie-talkies to HQ, hoping that through them we could get Larsson to abort his suicidal mission. These guys were punks, and we were little children who still had most of their baby-teeth left (I actually knocked out one of my brothers baby-teeth here, swinging my arm and smoking him in the kisser accidentally). Our pleas for the madman to stop his advance to useless, and soon all we could do was watch in horror as he went right under our cousins chair. His small arms worked madly as our cousins continued to talk about how there freakishness was going, and how their band was going to be a huge hit.
All of a sudden Larsson crawled away, and we all blew a sigh of relieve. Larsson was laughing to himself, and we all wondered what he did.
All of a sudden Ryan, the bald cousin of ours (not the boyfriend, the cousin), tried to get up and to everyones surprise his chair came up with him. Larsson had wrapped his keychain around his chair and now he was stuck to it. Everyone in the cabin noticed this unusual phenomenon and began to do the only thing they could do; laugh. Ryan turned about 10 shades of red as he looked around as fast as he could, trying to find out who had done this unspeakable act of cruelty. When he saw a small boy rolling with laughter under a table with a walkie-talkie clipped to his shirt he knew at once hit was him. He lunged for for Larsson, roaring loudly (I never could figure out if it was a roar of anger or a roar of laughter), but Larsson was faster because he didn't have a chair stuck to his butt. We all escaped downstairs and enjoyed this time because for once in our young lives we came out on top.