The Camp Prospero Files: Rudolph von Hasselberry and Regulus Crowley


The following report and its contents are classified TOP SECRET under Federal Code 7906-A. The information contained within is the exclusive property of the United States Department of Defense, The Bureau of Magical Affairs, and its branch offices. Any unauthorized release will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Interviews conducted by professional staff for the purpose of determining the mental status and fitness of key training camp personnel.


Subject: Rudolph von Hasselberry, Regulus Crowley

Designation: Class 3, Class 2

Rank: Co-Scoutmasters


RUDOLPH VON HASSELBERRY: Excuse me, Crowley, but just what in Merlin’s name do you think you’re doing?

REGULUS CROWLEY: Umm–just sitting, as far as I can tell. What do you mean?

RVH: That’s precisely right. You’re sitting. In my seat.

RC: But I was the first one here, and there’s only one chair.

INTERVIEWER: Gentlemen, if I could have your attention for a–

RVH: Well, I suppose you’re to be commended, Crowley. People should follow their strengths, and yours is very much sitting on your backside doing nothing useful in particular. Now get up.

RC: I beg your pardon?

I: Sirs, if I may–

RVH: [glares] Get out of that chair. That’s an order.

RC: [smirks] You can’t give me orders anymore. In case you forgot, Scout Marshal Rhodes promoted me. We’re the same rank now.

RVH: Fortunately for everyone, Crowley, I’ll never be as rank as you. [shakes his fist] Now get up before I give you a lump no amount of makeup will cover, you prancing pansy.

I: Gentlemen–

RC: That was one time! And I’ll have you know, Rudolph, that was only after you threw your nameplate and hit me in the face. You’re lucky I didn’t sue you.

RVH: [clenches jaw] What did you just call me?

RC: Oh, pardon me. All this first-name basis talk is very new to me. I suppose you’d prefer Rudy. After all, Rudolph is an awful name.

RVH: Why you slimy, self-important son of a–

I: Gentlemen! [bangs on table] Control yourselves. This is a psychiatric evaluation, and you are high-ranking BMA officers. A little decorum, please! [clears throat] Scoutmaster Hasselberry, there are extra chairs against the wall.

RVH: [raises eyebrow] Folding chairs.

I: Problem?

RVH: I wouldn’t be caught dead using a folding chair like some AA bum. [snorts] Not to mention that I have a bad back. It’s from an old injury during my service to this country in Vietnam.

RC: I seem to recall you got that from running away from the enemy too quickly.

RVH: Shut up, Crowley, or I’ll put actual stones in your kidneys by pushing them into your body as slowly as possible.

I: [growls] Do I need to call security? I’ll remind you two that this evaluation was ordered by Director Masterson and Scout Marshal Rhodes–both of whom you answer to. I would advise you to cooperate if you want to keep your jobs. No more petty bickering. Are we clear?


RVH: Very well. I suppose I’m capable of being the bigger man. [gets a folding chair and sits down] Then again, it’s not difficult to be bigger than a worm like this one.

RC: Stuff it, you old windbag. A worm couldn’t possibly be a worse commanding officer than you.

I: [sighs] Can I have the children back now, please? At least they were semi-intelligent.

RVH: What was that?

I: Nothing. [folds hands] Anyway–I gather you two have known each other for a while.

RVH and RC: [glance at each other] Too long.

I: Uh-huh. May I inquire as to how?

RC: Well, for the better part of the last 10 years, I’ve worked as assistant scoutmaster at Camp Prospero, serving under Scoutmaster Hasselberry. [mutters] And his barely distinguishable command–

RVH: [glowers] I heard that. Sir, how would you feel if you were hampered every day in your duties by being followed around by a drooling incompetent who wouldn’t know a spell from a sunburn? That’s been my life for the last 10 years.

RC: [smirks] I wouldn’t say that. You didn’t drool that much.

RVH: One more word out of you, Crowley, and I’ll–

I: Not to interrupt, Scoutmaster–

RVH and RC: Yes?

I: Ugh. Sorry, I meant Scoutmaster Hasselberry: I think you mean nine of the last 10 years, correct? The record shows you were unemployed at this time last year.

RVH: [grumbles] Retired, actually.

I: Which I believe was less by choice and more forced.

RC: That’s correct. After the incident with Camp Prospero’s graduation two years ago, Scoutmaster Hasselberry was let go, and I was promoted to commanding officer.

RVH: Oh, please. You were a commanding officer for two whole days. And look what happened! My entire camp was destroyed by that rampaging mad woman they sent in to replace you, and they had to bribe me into coming back to pick up the pieces. You were so staggeringly inept that you let an illegal blood witch take control right under your nose.

RC: [flushes] What choice did I have? The Bureau ordered Barstowe to take command. I had no recourse. And of course I didn’t know about the blood magic at first. If I had–

RVH: You would have done what, exactly? Hidden under my desk?

RC: I’m sure the record shows that I was instrumental in the liberation of Camp Prospero.

I: [pages through notes] Yes, it does. That is, after you allegedly collaborated with her for the better part of two months in the unlawful oppression of scouts.

RVH: Ha! Explain that one, Crowley.

RC: [stammers] Well of course I did! I had to! Who wouldn’t? At first I was frightened, and rightfully so–Barstowe was an incredibly powerful witch with control over a piece of the Spear of Destiny itself. I’d like to know what you would have done in my place.

RVH: [snorts] Well, not rolled over and let a woman walk all over me, for starters.

I: Actually, Scoutmaster Hasselberry, your own slate is far from clean. Aside from your–shall we say, mishandling–of the Scout Jamboree two years ago, my files indicate the BMA fired you for gross misuse of camp funds, embezzlement, insurance fraud, and numerous other offenses. The money was apparently used to fund a lavish lifestyle in which, among other things, many women were paid to literally walk all over you. And do other things.

RVH: [splutters] Well, I hardly see how that’s relevant here. Anyway, the Bureau cleared me of all charges when they reinstated my rank. Which they did for services rendered, I might add.

I: Indeed–services rendered only because Jack Ferguson and his fellow scouts had the presence of mind, or perhaps the desperation, to come to you for help.

RVH: [folds arms] They certainly did. And thanks to my quick and decisive moves to take charge of the situation, everything turned out all right.

I: [purses lips] If you call the destruction of hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of government property, near-exposure of a secret military installation and the magical world in general, dozens of private lawsuits against this department, and the barest aversion of a potential global extinction event “all right.” Let me be perfectly clear, gentlemen: neither of you are in the BMA’s good book at the moment. The only reason we haven’t replaced the both of you is because we’d have to pay any slightly intelligent new commander a greater salary than what you two make combined.

RC: [gulps] Understood.

RVH: [narrows eyes] This sounds suspiciously not like an interview.

I: That’s because it’s not, Scoutmaster. This is to let you know that you’re both on notice. The BMA promoted you to co-scoutmasters to preserve accountability in the decision-making process at Camp Prospero. But you’d best be paying attention. One more slip-up, from either of you, and you’ll both feel the might of the Bureau come down on you like a ton of bricks. Understand?

RC: Of course. Whatever you say.

RVH: Wait a moment. I thought you made Crowley and I co-scoutmasters so I could keep an eye on him.

RC: [glares] Who says they don’t want me to keep an eye on you?

RVH: Well for one thing, you mental defective, I certainly wouldn’t–

I: Quiet! In Merlin’s name, shut up! You want the honest truth? Well? The truth is that we’re not relying on you to keep each other in line–that’s what the scouts are for. The very troops you command: Ferguson, Stone, Cho, Falco, Scott, Masterson, and all the rest. You’re both such sorry excuses for leaders that we’re asking them to police you. And based on our profiles, we know they’d be the least inclined to give favorable marks to either of you sorry examples of human beings. So watch your step. Do I make myself perfectly clear?


I: Good. You’re dismissed.

RC: [gets up to leave] I think he yelled at you more than me.

RVH: Shut up, Crowley.


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