Somehow, in the winter of '11 (I was 12), I ended up spending Christmas at a Boy Scout camp. It was relatively dark out, approaching dusk, and my friend and I were just walking around what we called "The Hub" (populated area of camp) and we came upon a trailer. There was an empty can of spray paint sitting in it, and it started out innocently enough. We weren't planning on being malicious or anything, but a rogue counselor saw otherwise. We shook it and gave it a tap and it colored an insignificant rock a very faint red. We pretty much just shrugged it off and put it back in the trailer, but that counselor screamed at us from the trading post balcony about forty feet up the mountain, and he told us to not move while he came down. Being as it was dark, I didn't think he'd seen us, and we took off like bats out of hell. The next morning was Christmas Day, and we gave gifts to eachother. The counselor from the night before approached both me [i]AND[/i] my friend and unloaded on our uniforms with a spray paint can, and laughed it off with us. I was scared to death with the whole thing, but the counselor made it a good sort of awkward via changing our terror into a comedic aspect. Kind of a dumb story, I'm aware, but it just sticks out in my mind nonetheless.