A scornful chuckle came from the boy.

"Ha! Return? You have no father to speak of!" The kid mocked Melon, making expressions and making the other kids laugh.

"You're incredibly stupid! Maybe your father is already gone! Are you talking about a phone call? That has to be a fake father!"

Enraged, Melon lunged forth, delivering a resounding blow to the rotund boy's face.

“Your father is the one who's dead!"

The chubby lad wailed and, unwilling to concede defeat, grabbed Melon's face, and the two tumbled on the grass. He cried, “I shall report this to the counselor! You hit me! You're a fatherless bastard!"

"I am not fatherless! Shut up!" Melon's eyes glistened with tears as he grappled fiercely with his adversary, their conflict unabated.

The other kids were terrified and raced to alert the counselor.

In the midst of this tumult, the camp's loudspeaker crackled to life.

"Max Anderson, your father just arrived bearing two laden packs of snacks to see you. Please come to the lecture hall."

As the broadcast reverberated through the airwaves, the two youngsters grappling on the verdant lawn found themselves abruptly at a standstill.

The chubby lad, seated on the grass, appeared taken aback and bewildered. Could it truly be the case? Did this lad genuinely have a dad?

Melon, as well, remained in a state of astonishment, surmising that perhaps there was another boy at this summer camp who bore the same name and surname as himself. It took him a moment to connect the dots.

Upon finally snapping out of his reverie, his blood still simmering with the fury ignited by the boy's previous utterances, he lunged at him once more, tugging fiercely at his sleeve while demanding, “Apologize! You've yet to extend your apologies to me!"

By now, fellow campers had rushed to summon the camp counselor. She swiftly approached the scene, taken aback to find the two juveniles embroiled in a tussle. Without hesitation, she intervened, separating them, and inquired, "What's the fracas all about? Why are you two fighting?"

Seeing the counselor's approach, the chubby boy promptly scrambled to his feet, dusting off his trousers, and expeditiously laid forth a grievance, "He was the one who launched a sudden assault on me!"

"No, you're the one who insulted me!" retorted Melon, his face flush with ire.

"He said I'm fatherless and resorted to calling me a bastard with a dead dad."

At this juncture, a timid young girl who had summoned the counselor timidly said, "He started by insulting Max first. We all heard it."

The counselor furrowed her brow upon hearing such harsh language, wondering where these youngsters had picked up such phrases. She chastised the boy, stating, “You mustn't hurl insults at your fellow campers; your words were exceedingly harsh."