//------------------------------// // Camp Everfree // Story: Parent Trap // by PhantomBulwark //------------------------------// The extravagant white limo drew all eyes as it pulled to a stop at Camp Everfree. Crispin Apple sighed a bit, he had wanted to arrive somewhat normally; his mother however had insisted that he take the limousine (apparently a gentleman did not take the bus). He narrowed his green eyes at the driver when he tried to take his bags for him. “I’ve got it.” He bit out. “Thank you.” “Have a good time young master.” He gave no verbal response, choosing instead to make his way toward the sign in desk. After sign in, the campers were led to a courtyard where a motherly woman with bright magenta hair and a brighter smile greeted them. “Welcome Campers!” she cheered, “Here at camp everfree we strive for lasting friendships and memories. I’m Gloriosa Daisy, and over near the sign in is my brother Timber. A full list of daily activities will be available each morning on the board in the mess hall. For today though, we'll be having lunch and then you will go meet your counselors and acclimate. There will be two campers to a tent and six tents to a counselor. Girls, please get your tent assignments from Timber! Guys, you’re with me!” After receiving his tent assignment, the Maple leaf tent, he made his way over to claim the bed on the left. He flopped onto his back and contemplated what the week might be like, he had trouble believing that the other campers would want to hang out with the ‘little rich boy’. If the guys at school were any indication, showing up to everything in a stretch limousine was not cool. “Hey!” a boisterous voice greeted him, “I’m Bass Drop. You’re the kid who rolled up in a limo right?” Crispin groaned, “I suppose I am, I’m Crispin.” “Just Crispin?” “Crispin Apple.” He said tersly. “OH!! I think I know your family, you one of the Canterlot Apples?” Bass asked merrily, “They work with my Aunt Bonnie.” “Nope.” He said sullenly, “My mom’s name is Rarity Belle, I don’t have any family with the name Apple.” Bass’s eyes narrowed, “What about your daddy? Or do ya got another mom like I do?” “I don’t have either.” He grumped, “she’s dead.” “oh… sorry dude.” “Are you my roommate?” Crispin diverted the conversation. “Uh, yeaaaah, that cool?” “You’ll do.” Bass actually turned out to be a good friend once Crispin got used to being called, uhg, ‘Crispy’. It also helped that when Crispin had no inclination to speak Bass simply put on a massive pair of headphones and went quiet. “My parents are musicians.” Bass explained to the dinner table, “Vinyl Scratch and Octavia Melody. My sister Cassette and me were practically composing in the womb.” “Whoa”, one of the other boys exclaimed, “that’s so much cooler than mine, they’re, like, gym owners...” “What about you Crispy?” Bass smirked, “what does Mommy dearest do?” Crispin sighed, Bass had been badgering him about this since day one. “My mother is a professional fashion designer. People come from all over for her clothes.” Bass snorted, “Dude, no wonder you’re so uptight. You’re mom’s some prissy fashion guru?! Hahahahaha.” He devolved into uncontrollable snickers. Without a word, Crispin gathered a spoonful of mashed potatoes and flicked them at his friend. They missed, rather spectacularly, and smacked into the back of someone’s head at the table in front of them. There was a moment of calm before the storm. The boy he’d hit whipped around and hurled his sandwich, but Crispin barely noticed the ham and cheese connecting with Bass’s face. The boy he’d hit, had also frozen, they stared at one another as an impromptu food fight waged around them. This boy, looked exactly… exactly… like him. “Who- I- Wha?” He didn’t get the chance to finish the question. His counselor, Sandbar, hauled the boys out of mess hall as the other counselors attempted to end the carnage. “Crispin what was that?” Sandbar barked, “why would you pelt your brother with potatoes?!” “He Isn’t-” “I AIN’T-” “My-“ “His-” “BROTHER” The boys chorused together. Sandbar stared at them, looking back and forth for several long moments. “You’re identical.” He said, still looking startled. “No we AIN’T” the clone insisted, “I’ve never seen this feller in my LIFE.” “Ditto.” Crispin grumbled, “I mean look at him, he can’t even form a proper sentence.” “Shuddup” The clone snarled, “you started this you stuck up blow-hard.” “Ohh the little hick has some bite” Crispin snarked. “ALRIGHT.” Sandbar stepped in, “you’re both to share the Harmony cabin for the rest of this week.” Crispin’s eyes bulged and the hick-clone sputtered indignantly, “You want us to what?”