February 20th
A few days later…

It is a fine morning in San Diego, perfect to go out and practice hockey in an indoor facility. Before that can be done, though, a particular resident of the Monarossabergie House is in a pesky situation one goes through in one point of life: He cannot find a pair of socks.

“Ugh, I’m out of socks?” Brandon Montour mumbles as he peers in his barren dresser’s drawer.

He pushes the drawer closed and lifts his head up with pursed lips and narrowed eyes. He is kneeling on his mattress, which is right next to his dresser.

He throws his legs out in front of him to sit on the mattress and peers down at his bare feet. He wiggles his toes, making sure that it is worth searching for socks. “I have to have a pair of socks somewhere…”

He kneels back on the mattress and leans to his dresser, pulling the sock drawer fully open once again. He peeks inside it, then reaches his hand into it, groping for anything that can be in the drawer.

His hand hits the wooden back of the drawer. He reaches past the drawer and into the dresser, continuing on his rummaging. He traces his fingers down the slightly rough surface of the drawer, immediately catching a feeling of something soft and cushy below.

His eyes light up. “Socks!”

Brandon snatches the socks blindly into his possession and pulls his arm out from the dresser. He peers down at his catch: Sure enough, he is holding a balled-up pair of army green-coloured socks.

He raises his eyebrows. “Hey...I thought I lost these…!” He chuckles as he undoes his socks, separating them. “Well, glad I found them!” He sits back on the mattress and slips the socks on his feet, content that he got socks for practice and for the day.

He then kneels again and puts his the palms of his hands on the mattress to begin exiting his hole in the wall.

Immediately on contact, another mattress springs into view, lifting Brandon up a good foot from the floor.

“Whoa!” Brandon exclaims as he braces himself in the immediate elevation. He lifts his eyes up at the ceiling, which is now a few feet from his head. “I better get out of here before I get slammed up against the ceiling with this mattress…”

He then begins shuffling his knees and hands backward, toward the exit. He lowers his feet backward onto the steps of the ladder, then clutches onto the railings for safety with his hands.

BING!

Another ladder pops into view, causing the ladder Brandon is on to be pushed back toward the wall that is a foot behind him.

“WHOA!” Brandon shouts, grasping onto the handles harder. “I’m...going down…!” He begins clamouring down the ladder; more ladders then begin to appear in front of his ladder every time his hands touch the ladder. His ladder gradually gets pushed back with all of the other ladders begin stacked in front of it.

“Whoa, wait, stop, stop, stop, stop, stop--!” Brandon freezes himself just as he is sandwiched between the ladder and the wall. He lets out a sigh of relief seeing that the ladders have stopped stacking themselves against each other. “Okay. Now I have to get off.”

He slowly lets go of the right handle and transfers his right hand to the left handle to get a good grip to step off. He clutches onto the left handle.

“ULP!” Brandon squeaks as he is squeezed against the wall by another ladder popping into view. “Help.” He hastily yanks his leg into the air, puts it on the floor, then with great balance, pulls the rest of his body out from the tight space he is in. Finally, he pops out, stumbling for a bit, but then manages to gain his balance.

He lets out another sigh of relief. “That was close.” He then peers up at the scene in the bedroom: A line of ladders that are exactly the same as each other is acting as a barricade, making it a challenge to get into the bedroom.

Thankfully, Brandon is on the side of the doorway.

He immediately turns around and speedwalks out of the room, mentally taking a note to deal with the odd situation later on.

Brandon arrives at the empty kitchen without any other strange incidents along the way. He ambles to the kitchen sink that is to his left to get a frying pan for his breakfast.

He grabs hold of the panhandle that is jutting out from the pile of other clean dishes and yanks it out into the air.

Another frying pan instantly materializes and drops onto the floor with a loud clank. Brandon stumbles back in fright and for safety to avoid the kitchen equipment falling on his foot.

“What?” He groans. “What is going on?” He leans over and picks up the new frying pan.

Immediately, another frying pan slips from the new frying pan, clanging against the floor.

Brandon stares at the three frying pans. “How?” He transfers the second frying pan to his hand that has the original frying pan to have a free hand. Right away, another frying pan flies into view and rattles against the floor.

“Oh my goodness.” Brandon places the frying pans he is holding on the countertop. He then swoops over to grab the newest frying pan from the floor.

Instantly, another frying pan pops into view.

“No!” He places the frying pan he is holding on the countertop and grabs hold of the new frying pan.

Yet another frying pan appears and flings itself onto the floor. CLANG!

Brandon lifts his eyes up with a straight line as his mouth. “You’ve GOT to be kidding me.”

He then reaches out toward the frying pan, determined to get all of the frying pans onto the countertop.

CLANG! CLANK! RATTLE RATTLE! BA-ANG!

Rounding the foyer into the living room is the other resident of the Monarossabergie House, Joseph Cramarossa. He quickly catches sight of the growing pile of frying pans from the kitchen, immediately halting in place. He gives the scene an incredulous expression with his hands stuffed in his khaki shorts’ pockets.

The pile of frying pans shakes. Following is Brandon’s head popping into view, surrounded by numerous pans.

“Found the pan already?” Joseph asks him flatly.

Brandon blows his hair from his eyes. “Hey, Joey, just-just one moment.” He breaks free from all of the pans, causing a chaos of cacophony as more pans materialize into view: BANGCRASHCLANKBANGRATTLE!!!

Brandon then wades through the sea of pans, reaching out to safety: the countertop. He throws himself on the island with his hands plastered against its granite surface.

Immediately, a replicate of the countertop pops into view, pushing the original countertop into the dining room.

Joseph immediately stumbles back in shock with his heavy-lidded eyes widen. “What did the heck did you do to the counter?!” he snaps as he makes his way to the second countertop.

Brandon perks behind his shoulder and then in front of him, noticing that he is in between two countertops. He peers up at his fuming roommate. “I...don’t know…”

Then the last resident of the Monarossabergie House lumbers into view.

Nick Ritchie makes his way past the two countertops and through the sea of frying pans to get to the fridge. He pulls out a carton of milk, then reaches to a cabinet and pulls out a box of cereal, and lastly shuffles to another cabinet for a bowl and a spoon.

He wades over to the end of the new countertop, plops himself on the bar stool next to it, mixes the two ingredients in his bowl, then begins enjoying his breakfast like as if nothing is off.

Once the other two roommates are done gawking him, Brandon turns to Joseph. “Uhhh…I don’t know how we got two counters—”

“You touched it,” Joseph points out harshly. “A new came out!”

“I didn’t touch anything that would bring two out!” Brandon cries out, throwing his two hands in the air innocently.

Joseph shoots him a dead expression with lowered eyebrows, a frown, and crossed arms.

“Yeah, I just held onto it--” Brandon places his hands against its surface. “And—”

Instantly, a third countertop springs into view, causing the other two islands and Joseph to be pushed back further into the dining room.

Nick pulls himself back from his bowl as the countertop moves it away from him. With a sigh, he steps down from the bar stool, pushes it over to where his bowl is, sits back on it, and resumes his eating.

“Arugh..!” Joseph storms up to Brandon. “DON’T TOUCH IT.” He slams his hand against the second countertop, glowering at him.

Brandon flicks his eyes from Joseph’s hand to his eyes. “You’re touching it and…”

“It’s your problem, not mine.”

He eyes him. “So if I touch anything, it’d duplicate?”

Joseph shrugs.

Brandon peers behind him, catching sight of the salt and pepper shaker, which is by the third countertop. With a deep breath, he makes his way to the salt shaker and slowly reaches out to the it. He then lays his finger on its smooth surface.

POP! Another salt shaker appears.

Brandon stares at it in horror.

“Ohhh…” Nick is heard saying from the second countertop. “Can you duplicate my cereal?”

Brandon slowly faces Nick and steps over to him. He touch his cereal box.

The same exact cereal box materializes into view, giving him more cereal to eat.

Nick gives him a small, kiddish smile. “Thanks.” He serves himself some more cereal.

Brandon walks back up to Joseph with shock. “I’m duplicating everything I touch now.”

“Nooo! I thought you make everything you touch disappear!” Joseph remarks to him sarcastically.

Brandon’s face drops as he hangs his head. “This is an Icemare curse.”

“Good luck.” Joseph rolls his eyes and begins to walk away toward the kitchen.

Brandon faces him. “Wait! Joey—!” He naturally reaches out to him to stop him in his tracks.

Joseph immediately spins around and stumbles back, dodging his touch. “Don’t touch me!”

“Oh, right. Whoops.” He chuckles with embarrassment as his eyes drift off. “Well, um…” He reverts his gaze back at him. “Can you make me breakfast?”

Joseph responds by scowling at him.

“Unless you want to me to duplicate everything.” He shrugs with uncertainty.

With a frown, Joseph stalks off to the kitchen and begrudgingly fixes breakfast for Brandon and himself.

“Here.” Joseph shoves all of the frying pans that are on the countertop’s surface aside and places a plate in front of him along with eating utensils.

Brandon peers down at it: Leftover gyro plate from last night. He sighs. I should’ve specified what I wanted. But if I did, Joey would’ve still given me a gyro plate.

He then turns his attention to his next task to tackle: the fork. He hovers his hand over it hesitantly.

Now sitting on the other side of the countertop, Joseph slams down his fork. “Don’t tell me I need to feed you too.”

Brandon gazes at him as he feels himself turning red.

“You can eat with your feet,” Nick suggests from the countertop that is behind them, closer to the kitchen.

“No…thanks…” Brandon stares at the plate. “I’ll just make more forks.” Then with a deep breath in, he grabs the fork, letting another fork fall from it, and begins using it to eat the gyro plate.

“Good—” Joseph starts off with his eyes on him. “If you use the pita bread, I would have my lunch for after practice.”

Brandon immediately freezes with his fork halfway to his mouth. “Practice.” He drops his fork. “Oh shoot.” He peers up. “How can I play with this?”

“You don’t,” Joseph replies bluntly.

“But—!”

“You have your gloves,” Nick answers softly. “They’ll prevent more duplications.”

Brandon peers behind him to face him. “Really?”

“It’s logical.”

Brandon fully faces him with an unsure expression. “But what about when I don’t wear gloves—when I dress up?”

“If gloves work, wear everyday gloves,” Joseph responds from behind him.

Brandon whirls around to face him. “Do we even have any?”

Without saying a word, Joseph gets up from his seat and strolls out from the dining room and around the bend of the foyer.

A few moments later, he reappears, this time with a pair of thin, cotton gloves in his hands.

“Here.” He tosses them at Brandon. “Let’s get going.”

Notes

E.9 "Activate Duplicate"
Part 1/4
Episode 9/20