Camp Headless

Hello kiddies.  Your old FIEND, CREEPS, is going SCARE-A-NADING at the local orchestra.  What instrument am I SLAYING in it? Why, a HUMAN-ORGAN of course heh-heh!  While, we play Beethoven's classic MOON-FRIGHT SONATA, enjoy this MUSICAL-PIECE...
A teenage girl was hiking through some woods up, in southeast-Canada, one morning back in the summer of 1951.  She found a Summer camp, seeing a teenage boy painting a sign.  "Hello, I am Debbie Sanders, I am the new camp counselor here" the girl introduced herself to him, explaining.  The teenagers shook hands.  "Hi Debbie, I am Pete Newton, another camp counselor here.  Uh, welcome to Camp Maple!" the teenage boy introduced himself and welcomed Debbie.  Pete continued painting the sign blue that read: "WELCOME TO CAMP MAPLE!" in red-letters. Debbie went into a cabin and put her bag on a bed, going into the kitchen.  That evening, Pete Newton and Debbie Sanders sat around a campfire outside.  "There is a legend here, about a woman who worked here when the camp opened back in 1922.  She was chopping off a dead branch of a tree with her machete next to a cabin.  She mistakenly cut her throat with the machete when the branch hit her head.  The lady fell down and was decapitated by it then" Pete told.  "Campers have seen her headless zombie wandering around the area each summer" he finished.
"That is horrible, Pete" Debbie replied.  "Just a story Debbie" he answered, smoking a cigarette.  "The kids have called this place 'Camp Headless' for a few years" Pete said.  Later on, as Debbie was cooking a pot of tomato soup on the stove, she heard a little knock on the cabin-door.  Debbie turned off the stove and looked out the cabin-window.  The door opened and Debbie saw a headless zombie.  It was dressed in a white-dress and its flesh was decayed and rotting.  The decomposed-neck oozed with a disgusting mix of slime, the colors of white and red.  Debbie screamed in complete horror, opening the kitchen-window and climbing out, running.  She ran through the darkness, to another cabin.  Debbie turned, watching the headless corpse approach her, a moldering-head of brown and decayed-flesh dangling in its rotting-hand.  The zombified-head, with mold-covered, long hair and black, hollow-eye-sockets, smiled speaking to Debbie, "good evening young lady, can I make you some tea?".  Debbie felt the corpses moldy-hand of rot, touch her hair, twisting its decomposed-fingers on her scalp.  "Pretty hair" the zombified-head croaked in a dry-voice.  Debbie screamed and looked back, discovering the zombie was gone, the only sounds were from crickets.  
Talk about getting A-HEAD OF THE GAME PRE-SCARE-RING for camp.  The flute section of our orchestra really BLOWS ha-ha-ha-ha.  The piano section is a bit OFF KEY too.  Oh, well, with their practicing, I'm sure they'll get a HANDEL on it hee-hee-hee-hee!