The Roosevelt and Astor families agreed on one thing in their lifetimes—sending their children away for summer camp.
Not because they wanted the kids to "learn values" or "make friends." No.
They both just wanted a three-week break from the constant noise of,
"SOFIA—THAT TROUBLEMAKER STOLE MY TEDDY!"
"LOUIS—THAT STUPID GIRL BROKE MY CASTLE!"
The camp counselor, Mr. Timothy, had no idea what storm was about to hit him.
He'd checked the roster that morning, sipping his coffee, and nearly choked when he saw the names: Sofia Roosevelt and Louis Astor. "Just two kids," he'd muttered to his reflection. "How bad could it be?" Famous last words.
Scene 1 : Arrival
Sofia Roosevelt arrived first. Or rather, her procession arrived.
Pink trolley suitcase, glitter canteen, portable hand mirror. She wore a sparkly visor like she was here for fashion week: mosquito edition. She struck a pose at the check-in table, flipping her ponytail with a dramatic huff. "Bow before the Glitter Queen, peasants!"
Louis Astor came stomping in two minutes later, dragging a backpack the size of a small refrigerator. It wasn't filled with clothes or essentials, oh no—just stacks of cookies, potato chips, and three comic books.
He also had toy binoculars hanging around his neck, announcing, "I'm the leader of all survival missions here!" He puffed out his chest, binoculars swinging like a medal, and shot Sofia a glare that could curdle milk. "Move aside, Sparkle Pest. Real explorers don't need fairy dust."
Mr. Timothy smiled weakly, sweat beading on his forehead. "Hello, Sofia, Louis… what nice equipment you have—"
"Equipment?!" Sofia scoffed, rolling her eyes so hard they nearly did a full 360. "This is royalty gear."
Louis snorted. His face twisted into a smug grin, crumbs already dotting his chin from a sneaky chip. "More like princess trash. This—" he pointed to his bag, "—is warrior survival pack! Bet you can't even start a fire without your magic mirror."
Sofia's cheeks flushed pinker than her suitcase. "Oh yeah? My mirror reflects your ugly mug right back at you!" The other early campers snickered, but Timothy just rubbed his temples harder.
He'd been warned about the Roosevelt–Astor rivalry. He had prayed it was just an exaggeration. Spoiler: It wasn't.
Scene 2: Team Assignments
"Kids, you'll be divided into two groups for the games!" Mr. Timothy announced cheerfully, clutching his clipboard like a shield.
"NO!" Sofia shrieked, stamping her glittery sneaker.
"NEVER!" Louis roared, fists clenched, face red as a tomato.
The counselor blinked. "Um… why not?"
"Because I can't DESTROY him if he's not on my team," Sofia declared, flipping her ponytail with a venomous smirk.
"Same here," Louis said, glaring. His eyes narrowed to slits, like a cartoon villain plotting doom.
"How will the world know I'm superior if she's hiding behind other losers? I'd win anyway, but it'd be boring without her crying in defeat!"
Sofia gasped, hand on hip. "Crying? Please, Cookie Boy, you'd be the one bawling when I glitter-bomb your stupid fort!"
The entire camp stared in silence.
A brave kid whispered, "Are they always like this?" Another nodded: "Looks like oil and vinegar exploded."
Finally, Mr. Timothy sighed. "Fine. Both of you… same team." The moment the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake and he knew he's gonna regret it sooner or later... no, sooner! His stomach twisted—visions of mutiny danced in his head.
Scene 3: Sports & Games Mayhem
Tug of War
Sofia and Louis positioned themselves in the front, yanking at the rope so hard the kids behind them were dragged like fallen dominoes. "Pull harder, minions!" Sofia commanded, her visor slipping comically. But halfway through, they turned sideways and began pulling against each other instead.
"You're holding it wrong!" Sofia screeched, baring her teeth in a feral grin.
"You're breathing wrong!" Louis shouted back, spitting rope fibers with each word.
The rope snapped taut between them, their teammates yelping as they were yanked forward. "Guys, the enemy!" one begged. Ignored.
The other team just watched, dumbfounded, chuckling as they strolled over and collected the victory flag. "Free win," their captain shrugged.
Sack Race
Louis hopped like a kangaroo, already ahead, grinning triumphantly over his shoulder. When Sofia grabbed the back of his sack.
"CHEATER!" he yelped, flailing wildly.
"STRATEGY!" she yelled, pulling him down.
They both went tumbling, rolling in the dirt, crossing the finish line still wrestling. Dust clouds billowed;
Sofia ended up pinning him with a sack-flap to the face. "Yield, warrior wannabe!" "Never, you sack-saboteur!"
The referee gave up, muttering, "This isn't in the handbook…" He waved his flag in defeat, while campers cheered the chaos more than the "win."
Capture the Flag
Mr. Timothy put Sofia in charge of strategy. "Everyone listen to me—" she began, posing like a general with hands on hips.
Louis cut in immediately. "WRONG. I'm the captain!" He shoved forward, binoculars clinking.
"Says who, Chip Breath?" Sofia shot back, poking his chest. "My plans are flawless—hide in the bushes, then sparkle-attack!"
"Sparkle? Ha! Real strategy: Ambush with snacks as bait!" Louis countered, waving a cookie packet.
They argued for so long—voices escalating to squeaky shrieks, faces inches apart in a glare-off—the other team just walked casually past them, grabbed the flag, and waved it in their faces. "Thanks for the distraction, lovebirds!" the enemy taunted.
Their own teammates groaned. "We're doomed," one moaned.
Scene 4: Campfire Night
The day ended with the campers gathered around a crackling fire. Mr. Timothy thought maybe—just maybe—the night would calm them down. He was wrong. Again.
"Who wants to sing?" he asked, voice cracking with false hope.
Sofia jumped up. "I'll perform my princess anthem!" She twirled dramatically and began shrieking about unicorns and glitter, arms flailing like a deranged ballerina.
Halfway through, Louis barged in. "NO! REAL CAMP SONGS ONLY!" He started bellowing an off-key cowboy song, stomping his feet for "effect," kicking up dirt clods.
Soon, they were shouting lyrics on top of each other, creating a sound so awful a squirrel fell off a tree nearby.
"Yee-haw meets hoedown horror," a camper whispered, plugging ears. Timothy winced, flames flickering like they were offended too.
Then came marshmallow roasting.
Louis purposely shoved Sofia's marshmallow into the flames until it turned into black ash. "Oops," he smirked, eyebrows waggling innocently.
Sofia's eyes narrowed to dangerous slits. She calmly took his perfect golden marshmallow and smashed it into the dirt. "Oops," she repeated sweetly, grinding it with her heel for good measure.
"Butterfingers, huh?"
Other campers gasped. Mr. Timothy clutched his chest. "I'll need therapy after this…" He fanned himself with a singed program, muttering, "Why me?"
Scene 5: Aftermath
As punishment, both Sofia and Louis were made to sit on separate "time out" logs by the fire.
"You ruined my marshmallow, Pink Monster!" Louis growled across the flames, pouting with chocolate-smeared fury.
"You ruined my song, Cookie Ogre!" Sofia snapped back, sticking out her tongue with regal disdain.
The campers huddled together whispering.
"Are they… possessed?" one kid asked. "They must be demons," another whispered. "Demons disguised as children." A third giggled: "Or just really hate each other... cutely?"
Meanwhile, Mr. Timothy secretly scribbled on a notepad: Resignation letter draft #1: I quit. I value my sanity. *He glanced at the duo, still bickering, and added: P.S. Send help. Or exorcists.
When Sofia and Louis [are] present in same summer camp, even the sun regretted being sunny—but the chaos just began.
SOFIA: "Support me, your one and only Glitter Queen of Camp!"
LOUIS: "No! Support me, the undefeated Camp Warrior!"
AUTHOR (exhausted): "Support quickly… or I'm leaving them both in the woods."
PLEASE SUPPORT,
🔥 CHAOS GUARANTEED FROM,
👑 SOFIA AND 🥊 LOUIS 👑