There may be some content not for younger kids. However, there is nothing here they wouldn't say on the Total Drama series.
|Tristan||Team Masculine||12th (Eliminated)||
|Edward||Team Masculine||13th (Eliminated)||
|Andrew||Team Masculine||14th (Eliminated)||
|Shannon||Femme Fatales||15th (Eliminated)||
Chapter One: "Refresher Island"
Sixteen reasonably attractive teenagers stand waiting outside of an abandoned film lot.
"Hey guys," Andrew, visibly hurt by the loss of his accent, "Do you think that this season will bring out our worst, previously unknown personality aspects?"
"What are you talking about?" Edward scoffs.
Andrew sighs, "Like it did to the original contestants. Everyone was normal at the start of their season two, and by the end, everyone's different...will that happen to us?"
Kevin laughs, "Pff. Of course not. We know how to stop that from happening. Yep, I only see good changes on the horizon."
Everyone stares at Kevin, who is dressed completely different from what they remember. He now wears much nicer clothing, and his hair is it's natural color.
"Dude....what happened?" Zuma looks confused, as she eyes Kevin up, head to toe.
"Well," Kevin begins, "After the unfortunate accident during the final five challenge, last season, I decided to accept that no matter what I do, there's no stopping so called 'bad luck'. I came to peace with my misfortune. Since then...I don't know," Kevin smiles, "My luck's changed drastically. My father got a huge bonus at work, and sent me these clothes. They got here about the time my natural hair color started growing back in..."
Gerald frowns, slightly, and looks to the ground.
David yawns, and lays his head on the nearest suitcase. The name on the suitcase is printed clearly, 'SHANNON'
"Excuse me!" Shannon leaps into action, "Would you mind getting your head off of my personal property?"
David's eyes barely open, "Do what...?"
Shannon grasps his hair, "Look at this! Pitiful! Your hair is extremely oily, and it's a wonder that you don't have acne to match! It's nothing personal...I just have a 'thing' about people touching my personal items..." Shannon's eye twitches.
David stands up, "Look, Chicky, all I did was...." David is interrupted by the screech of a horn, and the sound of screaming.
"Look out!" Gerald's eyes grow wide, and he catapults into the air, knocking Shannon to the ground. David looks to the side, only to see the freshly polished grill of Chris' car, which slams into him, sending his being flying across the film lot.
"Oh my gosh! Call an ambulance!" Quinn calls out, as she, and the other contestants, rush to where David landed.
"Hmmm, I was going for more of a....'come-to-an-abrupt-stop'," Chris shrugs.
"Chris! Do you have a cell phone? He needs help!" Wendy yells from across the lot.
David speaks up, "Really, I'm fine. Actually...," he looks himself over, "I'm not fine...Shannon, you're right...I'm a disgrace," he stand sup, and brushes himself off. He tucks in his shirt, and ties his shoes. The others stare at him, puzzled.
"But...how are you fine? You got hit by a CAR, David..." Hannah speaks up, visibly shocked.
Parker looks disturbed, "This is totally illogical...you shouldn't be able to speak, let alone stand and brush yourself off....how is this so?"
David smiles, "Well, I was nearly asleep when the car hit me, meaning my muscles were very relaxed, allowing my body to absorb most of the impact. Thank goodness for my habitual laziness."
Jessica, who had been coiling pieces of string in her hand, looks to Quinn, "Bet you didn't know that," Quinn scowls.
David feels his hair, "Does anyone by chance have a comb?"
Tristan slowly pulls a comb out of his pocket, and cautiously hand sit to David, who smiles gratefully. David combs his hair down, and hands the comb back to Tristan.
Chris walks up, "Okay kids, enough of this. I have an announcement! This season's teams will be.....Boys vs. Girls!"
"Really?" Victoria smiles, "That is so cool! The girls are totally going to kick some boy-butt!" Victoria cheers, as Zuma high-fives.
"Dudes, we get to hang, and form brotherly ties that will last us a lifetime!" Reese smiles wide, as he pulls all the other guys into a hug. He releases them, after getting several glares.
"Do we get to name our teams?" Francine's eyes light up.
"Um...sure, why not?" Chris shrugs, and looks at a clipboard.
The guys and girls form two huddles.
"How about...Team Awesome?" Andrew suggests.
"No way. That's juvenile," Parker raises an eyebrow.
"I think we should be....Starscream and the Seekettes," Kevin pipes up.
"No," Parker shakes his head.
"Team Masculine?" Tristan says weakly.
The boys look at each other, and then to Tristan. They smile, and put their hands together,
"Go Team Masculine!" they all throw their hands up at the cheer.
"Okay girls, let's be.....the Blackhearts," Francine smiles slyly.
Quinn frowns, "No, that's trashy. We're the Storm Troopers."
Zuma shakes her head, "Nerdy. Let's be the Originals."
"Femme Fatales?" Francine questions. Zuma and Quinn nod in agreement.
"Wait, I don't like that name..." Victoria speaks up.
"Too late," Quinn brushes her comment off, and calls to Chris, "We're offically the Femme Fatales, Chris!""
"Took you all long enough. Anyway, this season will be...the Femme Fatales against Team Masculine. Now, everyone, follow me into the lot for your first challenge!" Chris beckons for the teens to follow.
Upon entering the lot, the teens spy two large pirate ships, the decks of which are full of junk.
"Your first challenge will be based on Pirate Movies! Now, since pirates have pretty much fallen from grace, in the eyes of Hollywood, this challenge will only have one part. The challenge is to fire upon the enemy ship, using your cannons. The first team to demolish the other team will be declared the winner. The losers will send someone home in the very first Gilded Chris ceremony of the season. Your ammo...will be whatever you can fit into the cannon," Chris explains, as the teams begin climbing up rope ladders hanging down the sides of the ship. Once both teams are completely situated, Chris blows a whistle, signaling the start of the challenge.
Andrew immediatley assumes leadership for Team Masculine, "Alright, Parker and David, I want you two firing the cannon. Tristan and Reese, you two start moving material next the cannon, so we'll have easy access. Edward, Kevin, and Gerald, you three can act as decoys to lure the girls away from firing on the others."
Meanwhile, a power struggle erupts on the Femme Fatale side.
"No, YOU get ammo," Zuma shouts at Francine.
"Man the cannon, Debbie!" Quinn shoves Zuma away.
Francine rolls her eyes, "Look you two, logically, the males are going to try and take us out as quickly as possible. If we all stand in one big group, we're only making their job easier. So, here's what we'll do. Quinn, you take Shannon, Wendy and Jessica to collect ammo. Zuma, you take Victoria and Hannah and man the cannon. I'll stay up here and call out when the boys are getting ready to fire."
Andrew loads a folding chair into the cannon, and shoots a glance to Parker and David, "Fire!" he calls out.
Francine glances over her shoulder to see Victoria nad Hannah tangled up in a length of rope, with Zuma trying desperatley to untie them.
"What happened?" Francine calls out. However, her voice is silenced by the deafening boom of Team Masculine's cannon. Francine can only stare wide-eyed as the folding chair takes out all three girls. Francine throws her head back, cursing the heavens.
Andrew sees Francine crying out in fustration, and smiles, satisfied.
"Orders, sir?" David calls outs from behind the cannon.
Andrew turns, and starts to say something. The boom of a cannon blast cracks in the distance, and he falls to the deck. A card table knocks Edward, who is standing next to Gerald, off his feet. Gerald screams, and falls to his knees, grasping at his face, and begins crying. Kevin rushes over.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" He tries to pulls Gerald's hands from his face.
"Don't touch me! Don't even look at me!" Gerlad momentarily lets go of his face, to shove Kevin aside. Kevin stumbles, and looks confused, as well as dejected.
Andrew calls over, "Hey, you two! Back in formation! Go see if Edward's alright, and go back to trying to distract the girls!"
In the background, Parker and David are firing another object.
On the Femme Fatale side, Victoria, Zuma, Hannah, Quinn and Wendy are out.
Shannon picks up a rusty anchor, "Ew...rust, oxidation...more rust.."
Jessica sighs, and takes her mini hand sanitizer bottle from her pocket, and tosses it.
"What is that for?" Shannon glance over.
"Huh? Oh...um, I'm just mad that we're losing..." Jessica's eyes refuse to eat Shannon's.
"Watch out, you two!" Francine shouts, from the front of the ship. Jessica and Shannon have little time to react, as a load of dirty, rolled up socks smash into them.
Francine groans in fustration, and grabs a brick, and loads the cannon up.
"Trust in thine self, and thou shalt triumph over thine enemies...." Francine aims her weapon at the sillouette of a tall young man.
"Captain! Watch out!" David sees the brick launch out of the cannon. He dives through the air, pushing Andrew out of the way, as the brick passes them, and sideswipes the deck.
Andrew picks himself up, and glares off, knowing who had fired on him. He says nothing, but instead grabs loads of knick-knacks and junk laying around him, and shoves them into the cannon. He shoves more and more in the barrel, stuffing it to the brim. He softly pushes Parker out of the way, and fires.
Francine looks to the sky, and sees the horrifying sight of numerous objects falling to earth, right over her.
Chris blows his whistle, again. "Team Masculine wins the first challenge of the season!" Femme Fatales, I'll see you at the Gilded Chris ceremony."
Francine glares at Zuma and Quinn, "You two didn't..."
Zuma pushes past her, "Don't start with me. You don't have any right to command us like that!"
Meanwhile, Shannon sprays herself with cleanser. "Ugh....socks...socks...dirty socks..," she notices Jessica sulking.
"Hey..." she scrubs her arms, "Are you okay?"
Jessica lights up, "Yeah, I'm fine."
Shannon looks concerned, the look on her face is one of disbelief, yet, she nods, and continues scrubbing.
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
A montage of Chris' best moments playes, as fanfare booms, and a spotlight hits the stage. Chris, clad in power blue tuxedo, walks onto the stage, holding a plate of seven golden statuettes.
"Under your seat, you will find your voting devices. Cast your vote for the member of your team you wish to vote off. If you don't recieve a Gilded Chris, you must walk the Red Carpet of Shame, and catch the Lame-o-Sine."
The girls reach for their voting devices, and cast their votes.
"The votes have been cast," Chris says, "And the Gilded Chris' go to.....Hannah, Victoria, Jessica, Wendy and.....Shannon," Chris throws out the awards to the safe castmates.
Francine, Zuma and Quinn sit in the bleachers, awaiting the result.
"The next Chris goes to.......Francine," Chris throws an award to Francine.
"The final Gilded Chris goes to.................."
"Quinn," Chris throws the final award to a visibly relieved Quinn.
"What..? But, why?" Zuma slowly climbs to her feet, looking at her former team.
"You, Quinn and Francine were extremely annoying, today..." Hannah sighs, "Bu, at least they had strategy. I'm sorry, Zuma, it's really nothing personal..."
Quinn smiles, and looks to Francine, who nods and returns Quinn's smile.
Zuma sighs, and gives a half-hearted smile, "Well, at least I made it far last season, right? I'll catch you guys later..." she waves, as she walks the Red Carpet of Shame, and enters the Lame-o-Sine. The Lame-o-Sine pulls away, and Chris speaks into the microphone.
"Well, the guys were the big winners today, but we've got plenty more episodes ahead of us. Will the girls solve their internal conflict? Will David return to his lazy former self? Why was Gerald crying? Find out next time on Total.......Drama......Action!"
Chapter Two: "Not Another Team Movie"
After Zuma leaves on the Lame-o-Sine, the girls walk out into the middle of the film lot, where they see the boys standing.
"What are you guys waiting for?" Wendy asks.
"Chris said he wanted us to wait here, and after your ceremony, he'd give us our trailers," Parker yawns, "Little did we know, the Gilded Chris thing wouldn't start for three hours."
"You guys got rid of Zuma?" Reese scans the group of girls, and fails to see her. He frowns with obvious displeasure.
"Dude, what do you care? Better one of them, than one of us," Edward sneers.
Chris walks into the film lot, froma back door coming down from the stage, "Okay kids, your trailers should be here any second."
Seconds later, two trailers fall out of the sky, (a pink one, and a blue one), landing on either side of the contestants.
"Hey, where did those trailer come from?" Shannon asks, stupified, "Are they clean?"
Chris rolls his eyes, "If you'd been paying attention, you would know the answer to both of those questions."
"But, you never said anything about.." Shannon begins, "Ah, what's the use?"
"Now," Chris begins, "Boys in the pink trailer, girls in the blue one."
No one moves.
"Maybe I wasn't being clear enough, boys in the pink, girls in the blue," Chris snaps his fingers, and Chef Hatchet melts from the shadows, holding a large spoon in a menacing way.
The boys rush to the pink trailer, throwing each other to the ground in order to get there first, the girls rush single file into the blue trailer, looks of ghastly terror painted all over their faces.
Chris nods to Chef Hatchet, who melts back into the shadows, silently. Chris whips out his trusty megaphone, "Oh megaphone, sometimes it seems like you're the only one who understands my frequent need to be obnoxiously loud...." Chris smiles fondly, and turns the object on, "Attention castmates, you will have the rest of the night to relax, before tomorrow's challenge. Sleep well, you have a five a.m. wake up call."
Inside the girl's trailer, the air is full of tension.
"So, Zuma got voted off..." Hannah says quietly, trying to start a conversation.
"Yeah," Quinn scoffs, "And she deserved it. She had no strategy."
Victoria frowns, "I regret voting her off, kinda. She was nice, at least."
Quinn shakes her head, "That's why you'll never last in this game, Victoria. Let me ask you a question, who wins American Idol?"
"The best singer," Victoria says without hesitation.
Shannon raises an eyebrow, "Everybody knows that, what are you getting at?"
Quinn laughs, and shakes her head, "You would think that. The best singer doesn't win, the best preformer does. You know, the person everyone talks about at the watercooler the next day. They're the ones who bring in ratings, and viewers. If you let someone like her get far, she'll dominate. You saw the Total Drama Action finale on television, didn't you? It ended with a vote for the winner. Do any of you seriously think you would beat her in a vote? Raise you hand if you think you could"
No one says anything. Francine slowly raises her hand.
"Yeah, I didn't think so," Quinn smiles, and lays down on a bed. The other girls look to each other with fustration and confusion.
Meanwhile, things inside the guy's trailer are much more relaxed. Andrew smiles proudly, and lays on his back, basking in the light of his team's victory.
"Dudes, we rocked out there. We rocked like hurricanes," Reese hands out random cans of soda.
Tristan smiles slightly, "Word."
Edward shoves past him, "Don't say that," he opens his soda can, spraying Tristan in the face.
Andrew laughs, and throws Tristan his own soda, "C'mon guys, he tried just as hard as any of us out there, I say he deserves a second chance."
The other guys shrug, and more or less agree.
"Thanks, Andy," Tristan smiles.
"Andy?" Andrew sits up.
Tristan shrugs, "Andrew is so southern, and without your accent, you don't sound like a 'good ole boy' anymore, I figured Andy fit you better, now."
Andrew nods, "Thanks, I think I'll stick with Andrew...like, forever, though."
"Suit yourself, Jethro--er, Andrew," Tristan nods, and sips his drink.
Andrew dismisses this comment, and goes back to relaxing.
Reese throws his arms around Parker and Tristan, "Great job, you guys!"
Parker looks uncomfortable, "Uh, Reese, this is a little awkward..."
"Oh, right, the gay thing," Reese slaps his forehead.
Tristan slips out of Reese's grip, "Dude, you're gay? I thought you had something for little miss Prozac?"
"Actually," Parker says, "I'm gay, not him."
Tristan slowly nods his head, "Oh...I see...hey, how 'bout I go grab us some snacks from the mess hall tent?"
"Sounds great!" David says, "I'll go with you, in case you need help."
As David and Tristan depart, and the other boys start to settle their belongings in, Kevin notices Gerald's absence.
"Guys, has anyone seen Gerald?" Kevin asks.
"He stepped out, like, fifteen minutes ago," Edward grumbles.
Kevin nods, and steps outside the trailer. After a few minutes of searching, he sees Gerald sitting on the ground, with his head buried in his arms.
"Hey, hey, what's wrong, man?" Kevin puts his hand on Gerald's back.
Gerald jerks away, "Nothing."
Kevin frowns, and sits down next to him, "Why were you crying during the challenge?"
"If you must know," Gerald sighs, "About three years ago, my mom was driving me home from the dentist. We were...at this stoplight, and..." his eyes begin tearing up, "This tractor trailer sideswipes us out of no where. Totals our car, completely....twisted metal....broken glass everywhere...the smell of hot asphalt close to my face..." Gerald breaks down.
"Gerald..." Kevin looks stunned, "Did your mom die?"
Gerald shakes his head, "Nah, she made it out with only a hairline fracture in her wrist and some cuts and bruises. Doctors said it was a miracle it wasn't worse. But, every since then, I've had the feeling that I'm constantly in danger...like, everything exist solely to harm me..." Gerald lies his head in his arms, and sobs quietly.
Kevin gives Gerald a quick hug, and stands up without saying anything, at first. He looks at Gerald for a moment, "Hey, bud, if you need to talk...I'll listen. Anytime." Kevin begins walking away, "I can feel that you need some time to vent, so I'll leave you for now."
Kevin steps back into the trailer.
"We're an excellent team, at this point," Parker raises his soda can.
"I'll drink to that," Andrew smiles. The boys clink their cans together, except Tristan, who looks to the ground.
Edward pokes him, "You missed the toast, spacey."
Tristan looks up, and raises his glass, "Team....Masculine," he mumbles.
The next day, Chris walks between the two trailers, "Okay kids, time to wake up! Meet in the mess hall tent in ten, people!"
The castmates sit in the mess hall tent.
"Alright kiddos, today's movie genre is...Inspiration Sports Movies! You know how a new sports movie comes out every, say, every other week? Well, today, we'll be making our own...sorta!" Chris announces.
Tristan's eyes light up, "I SOOO have this..."
"Not quite," Chris continues, "You won't be judged by your preformance in each sport, but on how inspirational you are. Now, everyone meet in lot six for the first part of today's challenge!"
As the teens walk into lot six, they see an amazing basketball court, complete with scoreboard and bleachers.
"Chris....this...is impressive.." Tristan stands in awe.
"Okay, if you know anything about basketball, you'll know that each team may only have five members on the court at a time, so, Femme Fatales, sit out two people, and Team Masculine, sit out three," Chris walks away, to let the teams prepare.
"Okay," Andrew steps forward, "Reese, myself, and...Tristan will sit out."
Tristan's head jerks, "What? You wanna reconsider that?"
Andrew puts his hand on Tristan's shoulder, "What's more inspirational, us three jocks beating some girls at basketball, or three short, frail, and chubby kids trying to beat some girls at basketball?"
"You're right, I guess..." Tristan sighs, and sits on the bleachers, resting his frowning face in his hands. Andrew and Reese sit next to him.
Quinn stands before the Femme Fatales, "Francine and I will sit out, we're the least athletic."
Francine shakes her head, "This is an acting challenge, and who here is more suited to act then," Francine throws her arms in the air, and points her fingers down at herself, "Than a thespian, like moi?"
Quinn ignores her, "Wendy, Victoria, Shannon, Jessica and Hannah, get out there!"
Chris blows the whistle, the teams have been chosen, now, when one team reaches thirty points, or fifteen minutes pass, this part of the challenge will end, and I'll award a point to the winner......now, play ball!"
The game starts, and the girls immediatley take the upper hand. Wendy easily ducks and weaves past Parker and Edward, score a basket in less than a minute. Hannah quickly makes a basket from the tree-point line. The boys dribble off their feet, trip, and are intercepted at every turn. Chris blows the whistle,
"Half time! The score is currently, Femme Fatales: eighteen, Team Masculine: three."
Both teams huddle.
"Okay boys, we need to get in the game," Kevin says, "Let's show them that just because we're weak," the camera pans to Gerald, "Short," the camera moves to Parker, "fat," the camera moves to a scowling Edward, "and kinda really ugly," finally, it moves to David, who doesn't really realize Kevin was referring to him, "That we can win this," he narrows his eyes, "Because we're a team..." the boys nod.
Meanwhile, the girls simply stare at each other. Shannon speaks up, "Um...do you girls happen to know if they clean the basketballs before games? It's been on my mind this whole time, and it's really bothering me..."
Chris blows the whistle again, and everyone moves back onto the court.
Kevins rushes through the girls, stealing the ball from Wendy. Wendy jumps in front of his, blocking his shot to the basket, he looks to the left, and sees Edward, open.
"Think fast, Edward!" He calls as he heaves the ball.
Edward turns, "Do what?" The ball cracks him square in the face. Edward falls to his knees, and seemingly in slow motion, falls flat on his face. His team surrounds him.
Tristan winces, "Holy rockin' jingle bells..."
"Edward, speak to me..." David flips him over. Reese, Tristan and Andrew rush down off the bleachers and onto the court.
"No more than five players on the court, it's the rules," Chris calls from the sidelines.
"Forget the rules, Chris! Can't you see this boy needs help?" Andrew snarls. He lifts Edward off the floor, "Why must we fight..why must we cause so much pain, in this already painful world....Edward....WHY?????" Andrew cries out.
The buzzer goes off.
"Well, I think it's pretty safe to say, Team Masculine wins the point," Chris smiles.
"That's totally illogical, we dominated..." Quinn pouts.
Chris shrugs, "Sorry, tragic death of a team mate in a freak passing accident trumps gender role- reversal everytime," Chris waves the castmates over to the lot exit, follow me to lot nine for part two."
Andrew drops Edward, and leads Team Masculine to lot nine, Quinn leads the Femme Fatales.
Lot nine has a large, olympic sized pool.
Chris explains, "Okay people, each team select one person to swim. The swimmers will walk to the other side of the pool, and swim to this side, simple as that."
"How are we suppose to be inspirational swimming one lap?" Quinn complains.
"I can find a way," Francine chimes, "Let me swim."
"I'll swim," Jessica volunteers.
Quinn smiles "Great. Francine, I don't want to take a chance on you overdoing things."
"Did you not see how the guys won the last challenge? Overdoing is how you win these acting challenges!" Francine pouts.
"Hmm..." Andrew observes his team. Tristan waves his arms frantically.
"Put me in, coach! I can do it!" he begs.
"Sorry, bro....Edward, you swim," Andrew points to Edward, who is rubbing his back.
Edward looks angry "What? You drop me on the ground, and now you want me to swim for you? Get real, bucko."
Andrew smiles, "But you got this, man...think about it...an injured athlete, trying desperately not to let his team down. That bleeds inspiration."
"Yeah, well," Edward holds his nose, "My nose is bleeding blood, thanks to that last challenge."
"Have the swimmers been selected?" Chris asks.
"Yeah," Andrew shoves Edward forward. Jessica stands next to him.
"Good, these choices are final, and will not be changed," Chris begins.
"I think it's broken," Edward points to his nose.
"Under any circumstances. Swimmers, take your positions," Chris claps his hands.
"Ah, crap..." Edward mumbles, as he walks to the other side of the pool.
"Ready....set....SWIM!" Chris fires off a pistol. Edward and Jessica leap into the pool. Jessica quickly pulls ahead of Edward, who begins to sink below the water.
"Mnmmhhmm!" Edward gasps, as he sinks, and struggles to keep swimming. Jessica reaches the other end of the pool, in the meantime, but continues to swim back and forth, from end to end.
"Chris, isn't it inspirational how Jessica keeps going?" Quinn says slyly.
"Hmm...no, not really. It's kind of sad. That chick need help, or a slap upside the head at least. Once again, tragic death of a team mates trumps what the Femme Fatales have up their sleeve!"
"Oh, yeah, that reminds me.." Andrew pulls his shirt off, and dives into the pool, pulling Edward to the surface.
"You okay, man?" Andrew sets him on the ground.
Edward scowls, "I hate you....so much..."
Andrew smiles, "S'okay everyone, he's fine!"
"Well," Chris smiles, "Looks like Team Masculine wins again!"
Victoria looks confused, "Isn't there still one more challenge, though?"
Quinn slaps her forehead, "It doesn't matter, they've already won tow out of three, moron..."
Victoria frowns, the other girls glare at Quinn, and leave the lot, except for Shannon, who watches Jessica swim.
Chris calls out after them, "Meet up at the stage for your second Gilded Chris Ceremony!"
Chris, and Team Masculine depart.
"Jessica, does it bother you at all that you have OCD?" Shannon asks calmly.
Jessica finally manages to climb out of the pool, "Whatever gave you that idea..?"
Shannon frowns, "I know last season, you said it didn't bother you, but I think it's fairly obvious that it does, deeply."
"Look, it's fine, okay? It doesn't bother me, and even if it did, there ain't much I can do about it, is there?" Jessica grabs a towl, and leaves the lot. Shannon sighs, and follows behind her.
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
Tension mounts, as the Femme Fatales enter their second ceremony in a row. Chris walks onto the stage with a plate of six awards.
"Under your seat, you will find your voting devices. Cast your vote for the member of your team you wish to vote off. If you don't recieve a Gilded Chris, you must walk the Red Carpet of Shame, and catch the Lame-o-Sine." Chris reads off a note card.
"Chris, this is your second season of doing these award ceremonies, shouldn't you have that speech down pat by now?" Jessica sighs.
"They don't pay me to memorize things, they pay me to look gorgeous," Chris smiles, as his eyes shimmer, and his stubble shines.
"Whatever," Jessica rolls her eyes and pushes a button on her voting device. She pushes it an additional six times before Quinn smacks her hand.
"Your votes have been cast, and counted. I have the results, and the first Gilded Chris goes to.....Hannah," Chris takes an award off the plate, and throws it to Hannah.
"Next up, Victoria, Jessica, Shannon and Wendy," Chris throws out awards to the safe members of the Femme Fatales.
Francine and Quinn slowly shift their eyes to each other.
"This is the final award, girls..." Chris says, more dramatic than necessary, "And it goes to..........."
"Francine," Chris throws the final award to Francine, as the color fades from Quinn's face.
"But....I..." Quinn stammers. Chef Hatchet appears silently from the shadows, and lifts Quinn up, slinging her over his shoulder. He carries her down the Walk of Shame, and tosses her carelessly into the Lame-o-Sine.
"Well," Chris claps his hands together, "There ends another's dreams over becoming a millionaire, and so ends another episode of Total.....Drama.....Action.!"
The girls begins stepping down off the bleachers, and heading back to the trailer. Shannon watches Jessica squirt a glog of hand sanitizer into her palm, and rub feverishly. She sighs, and drops her head, and walks to the trailer with the rest of her team.
Meanwhile, the boys celebrate their second victory with a round of root beer. Kevin sips his root beer in solitude, and Gerald approaches him.
"Hey....is it okay if we go outside and talk?" Gerald looks nervous.
Kevin smiles, "Sure, pal." Kevin hands Gerald a root beer, and they leaves the trailer.
Tristan hops up onto one of the top beds. Parker looks up, "A little early for bed, isn't it?"
"Um," Tristan glances at Parker, but his eyes move back to his bed, "You know what they say, early to bed, early to rise...something, something, something..."
Parker stares hard at Tristan, and nods, walking away to join the other guy's celebration. Tristan sighs, as he lays on his bed, and rolls over, facing the wall of the trailer.
Chapter Three: "You, Ruined"
The remaining six Femme Fatales sit motionless in their trailer, each staring blankly at the empty bunk Quinn once inhabited. It was right next to the door, on the left. Quinn had slept alone, on the bottom bed. Directly across, on the right side of the trailer, Victoria and Shannon share a bunk, they look dumbfounded, as a montage of Quinn snoring loudly plays, briefly. The montage ends, and the camera switches to the set of back bunks on the right, where Jessica and Wendy sleep. They stare silently at Quinn's former bed as a montage of Quinn talking nonstop while they try to sleep. Finally, the camera moves along to the set of back bunks on the right, the one Francine and Hannah share. Their stares are slightly more perplexed, as if fascinated by the new, placid ripple seemingly washing over the team, in wake of the fresh elimination. Hannah stands, and slowly shuffles her way to the empty bed. The other girls shift their eyes over to her, as she slowly lays a hand down on the unruffled bedspread.
"She's not here, anymore," Hannah's voice is casual, yet carries a touch of satisfaction. The others nod dumbly at her statement, and rise, slowly. It is quiet for a few seconds, and the girls burst into insane fits of cheering, laughter, and hugs.
Across the way, the guys are relaxing in their trailer. The set of bunks closest to the door, on the left side is occupied by David, who is busy shining his shoes, and Edward, who has fallen asleep in his faded, hole-filled underwear. Opposite them, on the right side, Andrew reads a copy of Lord of the Flies on the top bed, while Gerald sings along to a song on his iPod on the lower bed. The back-left bunk is shown to have Parker relaxing peacefully on his back on the top bed, while Reese eats a bag of corn chips on the bottom. The right-back bunk has Kevin combing his hair on the bottom bed, while Tristan tosses a baseball up in the air, on the top.
The scene changes back to the girls, Wendy says, "I think we should elect a captain! Maybe that's the reason the guy's team keeps beating us, they seem to have some sort of chain of command," she suggests.
"It's worth a shot," Hannah shrugs, "And volunteers?"
Wendy and Francine catapult their hands in the air, startling the other girls with thier enthusiasm. The other four girls look to each other, and in unison say, "Francine."
Francine giggles with joy, and hugs the other girls. Wendy looks irritated, "Why her?"
Shannon holds her arm, "It's just...Francine's the more theatrical one...and this is partially an acting contest.."
"Plus, I know about what you did to Steven," Jessica looks at her, angrily.
Wendy looks annoyed, "Look, he's a nice guy, but we just live too far..."
Jessica shakes her head, "No, that's not what I'm talking about. You have a boyfriend back home...and you led Steven on.."
"I don't know what you're--" Wendy's eyes fly open, Jessica interrupts.
"Don't even, I head you talking to him over the phone at Playa Des Losers!"
The rest of the team stare at Wendy, who's face shows fright.
"Is...is that true?" Victoria raises an eyebrow in suspicion. Wendy goes to say something, but stops, and nods her head.
Chris calls from the loudspeaker outside, "Oh, castmates! It's time for your challenge!"
The Femme Fatales shove their way past Wendy, and head out into the film lot. Wendy sighs, and trudges behind them. Team Masculine arrives a few seconds later.
"Fourteen of you left, huh? Hmm, after today there will be thirteen..a very unlucky number for some," Chris nudges Kevin.
"Haha," Kevin says sarcastically, "My luck's come around, McLean. Thirteen or no thirteen, I'm in this for the long haul."
Chris shrugs, "Whatever you say. Anyway, today's movie genre is...Futuristic Evil Robot movies!" Chris wiggles his fingers menacingly, in front of an unimpressed audiance. "Fine, be that way. For your challenge, each team will need to act as an investigative unit, tracking a robot suspected of plotting against the human population. Your team will need to gather evidence against the robot before you move in to arrest them, otherwise, you may provoke the rest of the robot population, sparking a giant world war between man and machine, that ends in global devastation and economic ruin. Also, you'll lose the challenge, so be careful. The robot may actually be innocent, so pay special close attention. Team Masculine, since you're on a winning streak, you'll go first."
In the distance, Chef Hatchet appears, wearing a robot costume, made out of a large box, spray painted gray and silver.
Andrew turns to his team, "Okay, Parker and Tristan, you two go forward, the rest of us with spread out."
"Um, I can't," Tristan says abruptly.
Andrew looks confused, "And why not?"
"I totally feel like I'm going to puke, dude," Tristan holds his stomach, and groans slightly.
Andrew is quiet for a moment, "Gah, fine. Go back to the trailer and lay down," he looks annoyed as Tristan hobbles away.
Chris interjects, "Oh, I almost forgot, here," Chris hands out walkie-talkies to Team Masculine, "So you can converse, and stuff."
The seven remaining members of Team Masculine spread out, surrounding the area around the 'robot'. David and Reese get the closest, and watch tensely as the 'robot' reaches for what appears to be a laser.
"He's going for his weapon...he's ready to strike.." David says into the walkie-talkie.
"Hold your position, we don't know what he's going to do.." Andrew's voice comes from the walkie-talkie, sternly. The 'robot' pulls the supposed weapon out all the way, and points it at a building.
"He's gonna attack!" Reese stands up, "Get him!" David calls out. The two boys rush the 'robot', tackling him to the ground.
Chris runs up, "What are you doing!? I said watch him carefully!" Chris shakes his head, and picks up the supposed weapon. He points to the side, where a label reads 'Storage Room Key-Free Lock'. "This isn't a gun, it's a futuristic way to unlock doors without using a key. Did you forget this is suppose to be the future? Everything looks like a gun in the future!" Chris drops the item, "Femme Fatales, you're up."
"Okay, how should we approach this?" Shannon asks Francine. Francine puts her hand up, and walks straight up to the 'robot'.
"Excuse me, Mr. Robot, but are you plotting to destroy the human race as we know it?" Francine asks sweetly.
The 'robot' shakes his head, "Nope."
Francine grabs his wrist, twisting his arm behind his back, "Ah-Ha! Just as I suspected, his robot fingers are robo-crossed..."
Chris looks confused, and looks at Chef Hatchet, "Really?" Chef Hatchet shrugs, and removes his robot costume.
"Well, I guess this is a Femme Fatale victory," Chris says, "Team Masculine, meet me for your first Gilded Chris Ceremony in two hours.
Andrew looks at David and Reese, annoyed. "C'mon guys, let's head back to the trailer and check on Tristan." Team Masculine shuffles back to thier trailer, as the Femme Fatales cheer, and carry Francine back to their trailer. Team Masculine arrives back at their trailer, and see Tristan huddled ontop of his bed.
"How are you feeling?" Parker taps him.
"Uh, better, I'm better, dude. But, uh..I think I'll catch some more Z's," he says briskly.
Andrew sneers, "Okay, but don't sleep too long, we've got to eliminate someone tonight," he sighs, deeply.
"Dude, we lost?" Tristan looks worried, and Andrew nods.
Parker says, "Well, you get some sleep, I'll wake you up a few minutes before we have to leave."
"Um, alright, cool, thanks," Tristan rolls over, quickly, and faces the wall.
Parker looks confused, but shakes his head, and walks over to the wall, he notices a lot of the guys are laying down, so he flips the light switch.
"Hey, Parker?" Reese says, somewhere in the dark.
"Yes, Reese, what is it?" Parker grumbles.
"Could you leave the light on for me?" Reese sounds a little frightened. Parker sighs, and flips the light back on, causing the others to groan, and curse.
Parker walks back to his bunk, and starts climbing the ladder up to his bed, from below he hears, "Thanks, pal."
-Gilded Chris Ceremony-
Team Masculine enter their first elimination ceremony of the season. Chris walks onto the stage with a plate of seven awards.
"Under your seat, you will find your voting devices. Cast your vote for the member of your team you wish to vote off. If you don't recieve a Gilded Chris, you must walk the Red Carpet of Shame, and catch the Lame-o-Sine." Chris points to the awaiting Lame-o-Sine.
The boys pick up their voting devices, some shift their eyes side-to-side.
"The votes have been cast," Chris is handed a slip of paper by an unnamed intern, "And the Gilded Chris' go to...Andrew, Parker...and....Kevin!" Chris throws out the awards to the safe castmates. Edward, Gerald, Tristan, Reese and David sit, anxiously awaiting their fates.
Chris shifts his eyes, "Next, Gerald, Edward and........Tristan!" Chris tosses three more awards out. Reese and David quickly glance at each other, both looking extremely nervous. David mumbles incoherently to himself, Reese sweats bullets.
"The final Gilded Chris is in my hands, gentlemen," Chris waves the chocolate statue tauntingly, "And it goes to.................."
"David," Chris carelessly throws David the award. Reese sighs, and stands up, so does Parker. Reese begins walking down the Red Carpet of Shame, Parker trails behind him. The rest of Team Masculine stay seated on the bleachers, watching the two. Reese comes to the end of the carper, reaching the Lame-o-Sine.
He clutches the handle, and opens the door, looking over to Parker, he says, "Well, my ride's here," he smiles. Reese puts his hand out, gesturing for Parker to shake it. Parker pushes his hand aside, and hugs his friend. He steps back, and Reese smiles fondly, "Take care of yourself, P-Man."
Parker gives a faint, yet warm smile, "Don't be a stranger. We'll leave the light on for you, in case you decide to drop in for a visit."
Reese nods, "You know Parker, some people might be smarter than me, and heck, there's probably some stronger ones out there, too. But, none of them will ever think of you as their bestest friend, like I do," a single tear rolls down Reese's face, and he climbs into the Lame-o-Sine, closing the door behind him. The Lame-o-Sine pulls off into the night.
Chris walks up, slinging his arm around Parker, "Man, that was deep...." He is silent for a moment, before pointing into the camera, declaring cheerfully, "There goes a fan favorite! Join us next time, for the most dramatic episode ever, of Total....Drama....Action!"
Team Masculine walks back to their trailer, tired and annoyed. Parker looks unphased, yet his eyes appear to be watering. Once they reach their trailer, they all go inside, except for Kevin and Gerald.
"I feel sorry for them," Gerald says.
Kevin looks over, "Who?"
Gerald looks to Kevin, "Reese and Parker. It must be hard getting separated from your very best friend this early in the game," Gerald says, and Kevin nods.
"Yeah, but Parker's a strong guy, he'll cope, plus, I think the rest of the team will comfort him, if he needs it," Kevin smiles.
Gerald nods his head, "Kevin....this may sounds weird, but I think you're my very best friend. You talked to me when no one else would, and you helped me deal with something that dozens of therapists couldn't scratch the surface of. Only a really good friend can do that," Gerald nods his head as he finishes.
Kevin pats him on the back, and smiles, "That means a lot, man." The two bump fists, and head back inside, smiling.
Meanwhile, in the Femme Fatale trailer, Wendy is being evicted from her bunk.
"Well, where am I going to sleep?" She cries.
"You can sleep in Quinn's bed, you rat-fink," Victoria snaps her fingers in a sassy manner. The rest of the girls stand behind her, frowning angrily. Wendy sighs, and moves her stuff over to Quinn's bed, as the camera fades out of the film lot.
Chapter Four: "Child's Nightmare on Halloween in Urban Texas: Part Thirteen"
The Femme Fatales sit in their trailer, quietly. Victoria, Francine, Jessica, Hannah and Shannon stare angrily at a lonely Wendy.
"Guys, you don't know the whole story...c'mon, let me explain," Wendy begs. Shannon's face loses some of it's anger, replacing it with concern.
She looks to the other girls, "Maybe we should let her give her side of the story"
Francine clears her throat, "As captain of the team, I say we take a vote. All in favor of letting Wendy share her side of things, raise your hand." Wendy and Shannon raise their hands, and, after a few moments, so does Hannah.
"All in favor of continuing the anger, silent staring, raise your hand," Francine says, raising her hand. Jessica and Victoria also raise their hands, "Hmm," Francine taps her chin with her fingers, "A tie. I guess we can comprimise. Wendy, you can share your side, but we'll all stare angrily at you while you do so. And....commence the glares!"
Wendy rolls her eyes, and begins to tell her side of the story, "Look, I did have a boyfriend back home, but we broke up right before I left for the island. Then I met Steven, and I really liked him. And....I'll admit, I lied when I said we couldn't be together because of the distance, the real reason was, I didn't want to start anything with him because I wasn't completely over my ex-boyfriend yet, and I didn't want to end up cheting on Steven, if I was ever hanging out with my ex. When I got to Playa Des Losers, my boyfriend called me on the resort phone, and we ended up back together...Please, I wasn't leading him on..."
"Hmm," Francine says, "I think--" Francine is interrupted by the sound of Chris' voice.
"Attention remaining castmates! Before your next challenge, I'd like you all to come out and see the newly arrived, Confessional Trailer!"
The thirteen remaining castmates meet outside, where they see the previously mentioned trailer.
"Okay guys, you know the drill," Chris says, "Vent all your thoughts, get things off your chest, yadda, yadda, whatever."
--Confessional-- Francine enters, "I don't believe Wendy's story for a second, and I think it's high time she left the film lot..." --Confessional--
--Confessional-- "Sigh, sometimes, I don't want to be jerk," Edward sighs, "But I've had a rough time. My home life isn't the greatest, and I guess, it's just my way of dealing with my unhappiness..." --Confessional--
Edward exits the confessional, and shoves Tristan, the next person in line, to the ground.
--Confessional-- Tristan looks saddened, "Dude, you know you're off kilter when the fat kid is picking on you.." --Confessional--
--Confessional-- Hannah enters, looking annoyed, "Okay, I thought once Quinn was gone, things would finally quiet down...but, I was wrong. I can't stand these people..all they do is talk, talk TALK!" Hannah tugs on her hair, "It drives me crazy! I'm telling you right now, nothing is going to stop me from winning this game, because when I do win, I'm buying a house out in the middle of nowhere, so I don't have to deal with these psychos anymore!" --Confessional--
-- "I really wanted to talk to Jessica some more...but I think I should give it some time. She still doesn't seem to happy with me, so I figure I'll give her a few days to cool off. In the meantime, I've been thinking about my own problem," Shannon pauses, and looks at her rubber gloves. --Confessional--
The rest of the contestants take turns using the confessional, until Chris announces the start of the challenge. "Okay kids, today's genre is....slasher horror movies, commonly referred to as, dead teenager movies! Isn't that exciting?" The contestants stare uncomfortably at Chris.
"Uh, not really..." David says.
"Oh, you," Chris chuckles, "Anyway, for your challenge, you will travel through the three quintessential setting of classic slasher films, 'the graveyard', 'the old abandoned summer camp', and 'the creepy looking house on the equally creepy looking hill'. Our slasher, played by the lovely and talented Chef, will hunt you kooky kids through the first two locations until the set time limit is up. In the third location, he'll hunt you until only one of you remains 'alive', haha!"
"What's the first location?" Jessica asks.
"The first location is the 'graveyard'," Chris says, "Everyone on the bus, so we can head over to Lot 26." Chris and the teens head onto the bus, and drive to Lot 26.
The teens exit the bus, to find themselves in a large, extravagant graveyard. Crumbling tombstones, overgrow moss, and eerie statues blanket the entire area, which seems to go on for miles. Chris leans out of the bus and says, "Your challenge starts...NOW! In ten minutes, the 'survivors' will move on to the second location!"
The teams break off from each other, with the Femme Fatales going east, and Team Masculine heading west.
Team Masculine follows Andrew, who leads them through the dilapidated gravestones. He stops infront of an unusually large headstone, covered in moss.
"What does it say?" David asks. Andrew wipes the moss away with his hand, and squints as he reads, "RIP 'The Drama Brothers', December 2009-April 2010."
"Who the heck are 'The Drama Brothers'?" Edward walks up to the headstone, and looks at the inscription.
"I'm not sure, but they sound like sell-outs," Andrew sneers. The other boys nod in agreement.
The Femme Fatales have formed a hundle, exceot for Wendy, who has been pushed aside.
"We've got to throw this challenge," Francine says.
"What? But we'll have to send someone home!" Victoria cries out.
"Exactly," Francine says, "We all know Wendy is lying, so if we throw the challenge, we can all vote her out. We'll all be safe, her elimination will be a sure thing."
All of the girls, exept for Shannon, smile enthusiastically, and nod in agreement.
No sooner do they break the huddle, Chef Hatchet, dressed in his slasher garb, appears in the distance.
"Oh no. It's the killer," Hannah says, unenthusiastically.
"Um, let's like, run, or something. Ahhhhhh," Victoria waves her hands slowly, looking bored.
"Guys, what the heck? Let's get out of here!" Wendy calls frantically to her team, who begin fast-walking away from the charging Chef. Wendy groans, and runs off by herself. Chef quickly catches up to the Femme Fatales, and 'kills' all of them, minus the escaping Wendy. Moments later, Chris announces the end of the challenge's first part.
"Wow...you girls are really bad at this, you only have one team member left in the game. Team Masculine is still operating at full strength," Chris chuckles, "Now, let's head to your second location, 'the abandoned summer camp'!"
Team Masculine, and Wendy, walk to a nearby lot, the inside of which has been dressed to look like a deserted summer camp, conplete with lake and fog.
"Okay dudes and dudette, the challenge will start once all of you are inside the cabin!" The teens scurry inside the cabin, and Andrew slams the door behind them.
He looks to the other teens, and says, "Okay people, to survive a horror movie, all you have to do is use your head. So as long as you don't do anything stupid, selfish, stupid or stupid, you'll survive."
"You said 'stupid' three times," Parker says.
"I wanted to make sure everyone remembered that one," Andrew replies.
Tristan walks up, and whispers in Andrew's ear, "Hey, why are you telling us how to survive when she's listening," Tristan says, pointing to Wendy.
"Don't worry about her," Andrew whispers back, "There's seven of us, and one of her, what are the odds she'll survive?"
Tristan nods, and looks over, "Hey, where did David go?"
The camera cuts to outside, David is holding his stomach, "I knew drinking seven root beers before the challenge was a bad idea...Now, where's that outhouse?" David looks around, and finally spots one. He happily walks over to it, a flash of lightening reveals the outline of a large figure a few yard behind him.
Back in the cabin, Gerald says, "We've got to go look for him, c'mon, someone come with me!"
Andrew stops him, "It's too late for him, now. He was dead the moment he left the cabin."
Back outside, David opens the outhouse door, and thirty bats, a black cat, and a ghost fly out. "Whoa, that was weird," David pauses for a moment, and shrugs before closing the outhouse door behind him. Another flash of lightning shows the shadow of the large figure cast over the door of the outhouse.
Back inside, Gerald argues with Andrew, "There could still be time, maybe Chef Slash'em hasn't found him yet!"
Andrew shakes his head, "I'm telling you, things are already in motion, it's only a matter of time before Chef comes here. So, instead of worrying, we should fortify the weak points in here," Andrew looks around at the broken windows, loose floorboards, and family of sparrows nesting in the rafters, "And it looks like there's a lot of them."
Back outside, "Ah, what a relief that was," David smiles. Seconds later, the door to the outhouse is ripped off, "AHHH! Oh my God!" David screams frantically, as the killer raises his weapon, (a plastic machete). "Wait!" David cries out as he cowers, "Let me pull my pants up first!" The killer nods, and lowers his weapon. David pulls his pants up, and gives a thumbs up to the killer, who promptly 'murders' him.
Inside the cabin, everyone hears the screams. "What did I tell you," Andrew sighs, "Now, before anyone does anything else to get themselves 'killed', let's go over some rules to survive. Number one, never go off alone. Number two, never say 'I'll be right back', and three, don't stand near any doors or windows."
Kevin comes out of the cabin's kitchen, and stands next to the door, "Look, everyone," he holds up a bag of marshmallows, "Who wants a marshmallow?" An arm bursts through the door, grabbing Kevin by the neck, "AHHH! There was absolutely no way to prevent this completely unforseeable event!" He yells as the arm pulls him out of the cabin through the hole.
--Confessional-- Kevin, looking embarassed, says, "Okay, not my brightest moment.." --Confessional--
Andrew slaps his forehead, and rolls his eyes, "Okay, everyone follow me!" Andrew leads the remaining teens into the kitchen, closing the door, "Now, help me move this refridgerator infront of the door!"
Wendy and Parker begin trying to open the kitchen's only window, while Tristan, Edward, Gerald and Andrew begins pushing the refridgerator over, getting it partially in front of the door, when the killer's arm pushes the door open, slightly, grabbing Gerald by the arm.
"Help! He's got me! Don't let him take me!" Gerald calls out for help, as the killer slowly begins pulling him through the partially open door. Tristan and Andrew grab his other arm, but the killer is too strong, and Gerald is lost. The boys, and Wendy, quickly push the refridgerator all the way in front of the door, and move away.
"Gah, I can't get it open," Parker groans, as he frantically tries to push the window up.
"Let me see it," Andrew says. Parker moves out of the way, and Andrew looks at the window sill, he shouts in anger, "It's been nailed shut!" At the other end of the room, Chef charges the door, knocking the refridgerator to the ground. He slowly walks into the kitchen, eyeing the trapped teens. He grabs Tristan, who is closest, and 'slashes' him.
"Gahh....ugh..." Tristan moans, as Chef drops him, and begins closing in on the other four teens. As he is about to take them all out with one swing of his 'machete', Chris blows a whistle.
"Congradulations to you four! You've all made it to the third, and final part of today's challenge! Wendy is all the Femme Fatales have left, while Team Masculine still has Andrew, Edward and Parker."
Tristan gets up off the ground, "Man, that was freaky. I was really scared for a second, haha," he chuckles. David and Gerald walk into the kitchen, joining the group,
Chris points to Tristan, Gerald and David, "You three casualties can head to the bus, and join the Femme Fatales, while these four take on the final challenge," Chris throws his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing to the four remaining players.
--Confessional-- "If there's one thing I've learned from watching slasher flicks, it's that girls tend to fare better than boys do," Andrew says, "I've only seen a very small amount of horror movies where a guy survives, as opposed to a girl, so I've got to be on my toes if I want to win this." --Confessional--
--Confessional-- Wendy frowns, "I overheard my team's plans...," she sighs, deeply, "I'm really not lying...Well, you know what? I can win this challenge by myself, and then they can't vote me off. Maybe that'll buy me some time to try and talk this out with them..." --Confessional--
Chris leads the four 'surviving' teens to the next lot over, "Welcome to location three, the 'creepy house on the equally creepy hill'. This will be the final part of today's challenge, and since Wendy is the only member of her team left, it will end either when all of the boys have been 'slashed', or when she is. Good luck, chumps."
"What did you call us?" Edward glares at Chris.
"I said, good luck, champs!" Chris laughs, as he closes the door to the lot. From outside, his voice booms from a megaphone, "Challenge begins in three minutes, whether you're in the house, or not!"
The four teens survey their surroundings. The hill is unnaturally steep, and it's grass is brown, and withered. The house itself is reminisent of Dracula's castle.
"Okay, everyone, we better get moving," Edward gestures for the others to follow him up the long path, leading to the front door.
"This sucks," Parker kicks a single pebble as he walks, "People like me never survive these things..."
"You mean gay guys?" Wendy asks.
"I mean guys in general. We're death magnets in these kind of movies, incase you haven't noticed," Parker sighs. No sooner does he finish his statement, Parker is lifted into the air from behind. The other contestants look on in horror as he struggles in vain against the killer's grip.
"Run, you idiots!" Parker shouts, seconds before being 'killed'. The killer drops his body carelessly.
"Ouch!" Parker groans, when he hits the ground. The killer looks at him, "You're dead, kid. Dead people don't say 'ouch' when they're dropped, they 'thud'"
Parker rolls his eyes, and goes back to playing dead. Meanwhile, Wendy, Andrew and Edward are literally running for their lives, as they desperately scamper up the driveway, towards the front door. Mere yards from the door, Edward trips.
"Agh! Guys, help me!" He holds his knee, and groans in pain. Wendy and Andrew hesitate, and look to the door, and back to him. Reluctantly, Andrew runs over, and slings Edward over his shoulder.
"Now, let's get insi--" Andrew is cut off my the sound of Wendy slamming the front door closed, behind her. He also hears the sound of a lock. "She didn't..." Andrew stops, when he feels the soft pressure of breath on his neck., "Edward...that's you, right?" Andrew slowly turns around, just in time to see Chef swinging his 'machete'.
Chris blows his whistle, "Well, with that, we have our winners! The Femme Fatales!" Andrew and Edward grumbles, as Wendy cheers from inside the creepy house, "Now, you three get on the bus."
As they shuffle onto the bus, Parker asks, "Who won?" Edward and Andrew bitterly point at Wendy. Everyone, including the other Femme Fatales, sigh in disappointment. Wendy's eyes water slightly, and he face shows the hurt she is feeling.
Andrew whispers in Tristan's ear, "Tell everyone except David and Kevin to vote for either of those two, they did pretty bad out there, today." Tristan nods, as the bus starts up, and the teens begins heading back to the film lot.
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
A montage of Chris' best, and the castmates' most painfully embarassing moments play, as Chris enters the stage holding a plate of six awards.
"Team Masculine, welcome to your second elimination ceremony. I think we all know whose going home tonight," Chris points at Kevin, who glares at him, "Under your seats, you will find your voting devices. Cast your vote for the person you want eliminated," the castmates do so, and Chef Hatchet hands Chris a slip of paper, "The votes have been cast, and the Gilded Chris' go to....Gerald, Edward and.....Tristan," Chris takes a handful of three awards, and throws them out to the safe contestants, "Next, is Parker," Chris throws Parker his awards, "Andrew is also safe," Chris throws the second-to-last award out to Andrew.
David and Kevin look shocked, and turn to face each other.
"Ah, dude, no.." Gerald says, obviously worried about his friend's status.
"The final Gilded Chris goes to...................."
"David," Chris throws David the final award, "Kevin, it's time to take the Walk of Shame!"
Kevin sighs, and gets up, "I guess my bad luck was just on vacation..." As he is about to reach the Lame-o-Sine, Gerald calls out,
"Wait! Chris, let me take Kevin's place!"
Kevin looks confused, "Dude, what are you doing? After all the progress you've made, you want to throw it away, just like that?"
Gerald heads down the Walk of Shame, "I'm not throwing it away. After all, the only way to see if I've actually learned anything is to put it to the test in the real world, right?" Gerald smiles, "Dude, you deserve this more than I do, please, let me do this."
Kevin smiles, and he and Gerald bump fists. Chris calls out angrily from the stage, "Somebody get in the Lame-o-Sine, already!"
Gerald opens the door, "Good luck, bro, I'll be rooting for you!" He closes the door, and the Lame-o-Sine drives off, leaving a cloud of dust in it's wake.
Chris' arm comes out of nowhere, and slings itself around Kevin's shoulder, "Another friendship split up! Dude, I love this show! Be sure to join us next week, for the most dramatic episode ever, of Total......Drama.....Action!"
As Kevin walks back to the trailer, Edward says, "Guess your bad luck really is gone."
Kevin frowns, "My best friend just left, because of me...it hasn't gone anywhere, it's just changed shape.."
Chapter Five: "The Aftermath"
The Total Drama Action Aftermath logo flashes across the screen, as the camera zooms in on the aftermath stage. There are three couches on the stage. A large on on the far left, an equally large couch on the far right, and a smaller, comfortable looking couch directly in the middle of the stage. Seated on the far right couch are Laura, Steven, Rachael and Charlie. Nicole and Morgan are seated on the smaller, comfortable couch.
"Well, hey there everybody!" Nicole chirps, "We're here on the set of the first ever Total Drama Action Aftermath!"
"Actually, this is technically the fifth Aftermath," Steven says from the side, "You know...just saying..."
Nicole's eye twitches, she glares at Steven ever so briefly, and returns to her usual, cheerful self, "We're here today in order to find out what those of us who didn't make it to season two have been up to! Isn't that exciting? We'll also have special guest appearances by the first four eliminated castmates! I'm just gooey with excitment! Aren't you, Morgan?"
Morgan is sitting with his arms crossed, "I shoulda been on season two....," he grumbles.
Nicole stares at him blankly for a few seconds, "......Anyway, we'll check back with Morgan a little later in the show! Let's see what our old friends have been up to! Laura, care to begin?"
Laura clears her throat, "Well, in the time since my elimination, I've gone on to produce my very own sports beverage," Laura smiles, and holds up a can of her drink, the label reads, "X-TREME PROTEIN! IT'S LIKE MEAT IN A CAN!", with an illustration of a steak skateboarding down a recently erupted volcano, "We also have a diet version," Laura holds up a similar looking can, whose label reads, "DIET PROTEIN! IT'S LIKE TOFU IN A CAN!".
"Oh, let me try some!" Steven exclaims. Laura tosses him a can, and he takes a sip, "Mmm....hey, what does it mean if your left arm goes numb?"
"I dunno. The healthiest thing you can do is ignore it....and sign this release form stating my product has nothing to do with it," Laura says nervously, and whips out a clipboard, holding a legal document.
"Well, alright," Steven shrugs, and signs the document with his right hand.
"Moving along...," Nicole says, "Rachael, how's the has-been life treating you?"
"Terribly," Rachael scowls, "I'm still grounded. Today is the first day in nearly three months that my parents have let me leave the house for something other than school."
After about ten seconds of silence, Charlie, Steven, Laura and Morgan burst out laughing. Rachael's scowl becomes much more intense.
Nicole, obviously trying to stiffle her own laughter, moves things along, "Baby, what have you been up to?"
Charlie smiles sly, "Well, babe, after my elimination, I only had five dollars in my pocket. So, I went down to my local casino, showed 'em my fake ID, and played the slots. I think I racked up some pretty good dough, considerin' I'm the one whose producing dis thing," Charlie puts his hands behind his head, and reclines, "I also bought those diamonds my girl currently has in 'er ears," Charlie moves one arm out from behind his head, and points to Nicole's diamond earrings, "And, with what I had left, I paid off 'The Spoon', so he didn't, you know, like break my legs, and stuff."
A disclaimer flashes across the screen, "Total Drama does not endorse underage gambling or the use of fake I.D.'s. Using fake identification is illegal, do not attempt it."
"Gambling? That's a swell message to send to the kids, Chuck," Laura rolls her eyes.
Charlie, looking insulted, retorts, "Oh, and giving people heart attacks is a better one?"
Both look over to see Steven drinking another can of Laura's beverage, his left arm is laying motionless on the cushions of the couch, "....What?" Steven says.
"What have you been up to, Steven?" Nicole smiles.
"Well," Steven sets his can down, and apparently regains movement in his left arm, "I've gone on to market my very own brand of T-Vests," Steven holds up a magazine article showcasing holiday themed T-Vests, "We've got a T-Vest for every holiday occasion. Christmas, Groundhog Day, Arbor Day, Mother and Father's Day, Thanksgiving, the list is endless. Our slogan, 'T-Vests, the Soul Patch of Upper Torso Wear', has become an internet phenomenon. Since our line debuted, crime rates, poverty, and the percentage of nerds who can't find girlfriends has dropped sharply all over Michigan," Steven smiles proudly, "Eighty percent of my salary has gone to the 'Steven W. Home for Homeless Kittens'. Another eighteen percent went to funding for my new reality show, 'Are You Sexier Than a T-Vest Wearer?'. The final two percent went towards my own personal dream, owning the time travelling car from the Back to the Future trilogy. The time circuits are being prepared as we speak, and soon I will embark on my own exodus....travelling through time, righting things that once went wrong," Steven's eyes close, and nods his head, slowly.
"And we're back," Nicole announces cheerfully.
"Wait, what?" Steven exclaims, "Did you guys go to commercial while I was talking?"
"Before, actually," Nicole smiles, "Guess the viewers at home will have to check our website to see what Steven has been up to!" Steven frowns, and finshes his drink in one gulp. His left eye spasms violently for a few seconds, after doing so.
"Alrighty, Morgan, care to share your escapades?" Nicole turns to her co-host.
Morgan smiles, and looks directly into the camera, "What up, my peeps? It's the big 'M' here, did you miss me? I thought so. So, anyways, since my totally unfair elimination, I've been cutting tracks with the hottest acts in the music biz!" Morgan crosses his arms, and looks smugly into the camera.
"I think we have a clip of Morgan's musical career!" Nicole says, excitedly.
Morgan's face jumps from smug to scared, "What? No! No! Please, I'm begging you, don't show it!"
"Well, the audience is begging to see it, so, here goes!" Nicole's smile is a little sadistic, this time. She takes out a remote, and presses a blue button. A screen lowers from the ceiling. She hits a green button, and the clip plays. On screen is a child's birthday party. Morgan and another man, both wearing makeup and clown costumes, walk on screen.
"Happy birthday to you....Happy birthday to you....Happy birthday, dear Wendel..." Morgan mumbles. The other clown hits Morgan in the back of his head with a rubber chicken.
"More feeling!" the angry clown commands. Morgan snatches the remote from Nicole, and shuts the clip off.
"Uh, hehehhe..." he laughs nervously, before lowering his head in shame, "Oh, look at the time, isn't it about time we introduced the eliminated contestants?"
"How right you are, Morgan!" Nicole laughs, "She was on the top of her game last season, but got the bottom of the totem pole this season, please welcome....Zuma!"
Zuma walks in, and waves to the audience. She takes a seat on the far left couch.
"So Zuma, how does it feel to be eliminated in the first episode? I bet you feel like a giant loser, huh?" Morgan chuckles.
Zuma frowns, "So Morgan, how does it feel to be kicked between the legs?"
Morgan looks confused, "I haven't been kicked--" Zuma stands up, and kicks Morgan between the legs, "....It's an unimaginable pain..."
"Being the first person sent home is an unimaginable feeling, really," Zuma says, "Especially after making it so far in the first game. It's kind of embarassing, and it's really disappointing," Zuma sighs.
"Aw, don't worry about it, honey, we still love you! Right guys?" Nicole turns to the other contestants who did not qualify. They nod, happily. Steven gestures his hand in the 'rock on' symbol, and goes, "WOOO!!!"
Zuma smiles fondly, "Oh, that's so sweet of you, guys.."
"What are your plans, now that your quest for the money has ended?" Morgan asks, obviously reading off of a cue card.
"Well, I suppose I'll go back to the independant music store, where I work, and try to set up my band's debut album," Zuma shrugs, "So, if you guys ever hear of Partially Hydrogenated Space Caterpillar, it's me," Zuma says.
"What kind of music do you play, yo?" Morgan asks, surprisingly intrigued.
"Indie rock, and the occasional rap-metal song, " Zuma says.
Morgan's eyes grow wide, "I think I love you..."
"What was that?" Zuma questions, looking slighty uncomfortable.
'I think he said that it's time for our next guest!" Nicole interjects, "So, here comes Quinn, everyone!"
Quinn walks on stage and is greeted by a chorus of 'boos' and moderately heavy objects, including batteries, umbrellas and shoes being thrown in her general direction.
"Welcome, Quinn!" Nicole greets her.
Quinn scowls, "I don't feel very welcome."
"That's probably because you aren't! Haha, everyone hates you!" Morgan teases. Nicole glares at him.
"Well," Nicole returns to her perky self, "I have a question for both of you. Why do you think you were eliminated?"
Quinn takes a deep breath, "Well, I think the girls just saw me as a threat, and wanted to eliminate me before the merge. After all, I did tie for winner, last season."
Morgan stiffles his laughter, "Oh really? Care to see this?" Morgan presses a button on the remote, and the screen plays another clip. The clip is the scene of the girls celebrating Quinn's elimination, laughing and cheering while standing near her empty bed.
Quinn gasps, and begins crying. She stands, and runs off the stage. "Oh, crap," Morgan winces. Nicole smacks him.
"Um," Zuma frowns, "I think after competing on nearly every episode of last season, I was just really, really stress out. The stress got to me, and I snapped on people easily," Zuma stands up, "I'm going to go look for Quinn..."
"Well, while Zuma goes to look for Quinn, our next guest is ready! He bench-pressed his way into your hearts, Reese!" Nicole points off stage, as Reese stumbles in, the audience cheers wildly, throwing bouquets of flowers, chocolates, and small pieces of workout equipment.
"Yo, dawg, how's life treating you?" Morgan snaps his fingers, and points at Reese.
"Pretty good, Big 'M'," Reese smiles dumbly, "I miss my friends who are still in the contest, but it's nice to be able to relax, again."
"Ah, how true that is," Morgan reclines in his seat, "How do you relax, bro dawg?"
"Well, I start with a refreshing three kilometer jog, followed by about two-hundred sit ups," Reese yawns, "That's the weekend way to relax."
"Jeez Louise," Nicole chuckles, "Well, I believe we have a video guest!" Nicole takes the remote from Morgan, and presses a red button. The screen flashes, and a portly young man, with a ball cap and a t-shirt that says, 'I Brake For Corn Chips', comes into view.
"Hey, hey, hey! Wazzup, my brother? It's me, Chuggy! Anyway, I just wanted to know, what your favorite experience from either season has been."
Reese taps his chin with his finger, "Hmm, well, Chuggy, I would have to say my favorite experience would be the first time our team won a challenge, in the first season. It was such an awesome feeling back then, and I don't think I'll ever forget it."
"Any advice for your fans, if they decide to sign up for a reality show?" Morgan asks.
Reese's eye twitches, "Whatever you do, never, NEVER, join a season of Total Drama....please, listen to me, you'll thank me later..."
Nicole chuckles, nervously, "Umkay, we have just enough time for our final guest. He was the first one out last season, but managed to last....a little longer this season, here he is....Gerald!"
Gerald walks out, smiling and waving to the cheering fans.
"Gerald, you were doing much better this season, what made you decide to give your place up to Kevin?" Nicole smiles, as she asks her former teammate the question.
Gerald shrugs, "I joined so I could use the money to get help for my fears. Kevin managed to help me out, greatly. So, I already had what I wanted, I figured it would be selfish of me to go after money that I no longer needed, while my friend went home."
"Yeah, well, what if Kevin is like, the next one to be voted off? It would have been a waste then, right? I mean, you could have won, and then given him the money," Morgan says.
"Um....well, uh...I.." Gerald looks confused, and becomes inarticulate.
"Yo, it looks like you got a video caller, thing," Morgan says. He takes the remote back, and presses a button. A boy with a bowl haircut, and crazy red eyes appears on screen. He says nothing, but only laughs. His laughter continues for thirty seconds, before Nicole snatches the remote from Morgan, and shuts the screen off.
"Was that a kid, or some kind of evil leprechaun?" Rachael looks disturbed.
"My vote goes to evil leprechaun," Charlie gulps.
"Well, that's all the time we have for this episode! Join us next time, for another Total Drama Action Aftermath!" Nicole declares cheerfully. Steven calls from off screen, "Can one of you guys drive me to the hospital? My left arm is numb, again."
The camera zooms out, the Aftermath logo flahses quickly, and then the screen goes black.
Chapter Six: "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Kick to the Face!"
The contestants quietly eat their breakfast, which, as usual, is near inedible gruel.
"You know, you'd think that the needlessly dangerous challenges were enough, but no. We have to eat this crap, too," Parker sighs. His team shrugs, too tired to form full opinions on the matter.
Victoria holds a spork curiously, "So, is this suppose to be a spoon...or a fork?"
Hannah rolls her eyes, "Perhaps you've discovered a new tool?"
"Uh! Oh my god! I discovered something! I shall call it....The Foon..," Victoria gasps, and marvels at her apparent 'discovery'.
"Okay, gals, it's time to talk strategy," Francine narrows her eyes, "Chris is a guy, and what kind of movies do guys love more than any kind?" Shannon raises her hand, Francine ignores her, "That's right, kung fu movies. Naturally, it would only be a matter of time before Chris created a kung fu movie challenge, and judging by his late arrival this morning, I'd bet my collection of identical pink dresses he's setting up for a martial arts entrance."
"Chris is late every morning," Hannah says, slightly agitated, "It doesn't mean he's setting up for some kind of grand entr---" Hannah is interrupted by Chris, who, while suspended from safty wires, plunges down from the ceiling. He is dressed as a blackbelt, and carries a staff.
"Greetings, castmates. Can you guess what today's challenge is? Chris starts posing, and attempts to speak without matching his lips to his words.
"Help Chris find his helmet and straight jacket?" Tristan chuckles, as Edward high-fives him. Chris, lightning quick, smacks Tristan in the back of his head with his staff.
"Close, it's Kung Fu movie day! Now, I think we'll skip story structure, plot, backstory and all of the other boring, unimportant aspects of fighting movies, and just focus on the awesome fight scenes," Chris says. Team Masculine cheers, the Femme Fatales mumble, "The challenge will be, each team will step inside a ring that our unpaid interns have constructed outside of this mess hall tent, you will fight each other until only one person remains, or all of one team has been forces out of the ring. Good luck, and let's get to it!"
Outside, both teams enter the massive ring, and pair off. Kevin and Jessica look angrily to one another, while Shannon and Tristan awkwardly glare. David and Victoria flex their nonexistent muscles, Parker and Hannah look bored and uninterested. Edward and Wendy make ridiculous gestures towards each other, while Andrew and Francine have a full-fledge fight monolouge.
Chris stands next to the ring, he takes out a whistle, "On your mark...get set....beat each other to a bloody pulp!" Chris blows the whistle, and the teams rush each other, except Parker and Hannah, who walk briskly.
Edward runs up to Wendy, and makes like he is going to karate chop her. Wendy catches him by the wrist, and attempts to flip him over her shoulder. Edward laughs, as his girth proves too much for her, and sweep kicks her feet, knocking her to the ground.
Kevin and Jessica runs full speed at each other, and end up colliding, knocking each one to the ground. Jessica is on her feet first, and lifts Kevin up by his shirt, "This is for destroying my homeland!" she shouts, as she swings him around and around. Kevin sticks his feet out, and stops her.
"Sorry about this, little lady," Kevin heaves Jessica over his shoulder, and begins walking towards the edge of the ring.
Tristan and Shannon slowly walk towards each other, "So, hey, no hard feelings about this, or anything, right?" Tristan scratches the back of his head nervously.
"Nope, no hard feelings at all," Shannon's hand lashes out, grabbing Tristan's nose, "By the way, got your nose," Shannon swings the jock around by his nose.
"Hey, what the--" Shannon releases him, sending him stumbling uncontrollably into the Jessica-toting Kevin, knocking all three out of the ring.
David and Victoria continue making flexing poses, and unintelligable growls. Shannon sneaks up behind David, and locks her arms around his waist, "Sorry, kiddo. Just business," she smiles, and hurls him out of the ring. Victoria continues flexing, and growling, seemingly oblivious to David's departure.
Andrew and Francine rush towards each other, and simultaneously execute a jump kick. Their kicks meet in the air, forcing both backwards. Andrew and Francine manage to land perfectly on their feet, and speed towards each other again. Francine strikes out with a punch, Andrew deflects it, and counters with a knee kick. Francine catches his knee, and shoves him backwards. Andrew glares, and gestures for Francine to attack. Francine grinds her teeth, and slowly begins moving in on him.
Meanwhile, Edward is throwing his weight around, literally. Wendy tries to punch the boy, but he counters with a devastating body check. A shockwave like no other pulses through Wendy's body, as she hits the ground. Edward takes the opportunity to pin her to the ring's floor, and cackles triumphantly. Shannon and Victoria, noticing their fallen comrade, rush to her aid. Before Edward can react, Victoria unleashes a half-nelson, and Shannon gives him a wedgie. A tear rolls down Edward's face, and he collaspes to the side. All three girls pool their weight together, and roll Edward out of the ring.
Parker and Hannah have not made much progress, with both standing silently. Shannon, Victoria and Wendy come to Hannah's side, and stare Parker down. Parker sighs, "I know when I'm beat," he kicks up some dirt, and steps out of the ring voluntarily.
"Dude! What are you doing!" David calls from the other side of the ring, "Now Andrew's flying solo in a ring full of chicks!"
"Lucky dog," Edward scoffs.
Parker shrugs, "Sorry guys, but there was obviously no way I could win...It just seemed logical."
Andrew quickly looks around, and sees that he is surrounded by Femme Fatales on all sides.
"So it's come to this," Andrew whispers, "Well then," he raises his voice, "I guess I'll jjust have to take all of you on!"
Shannon and Victoria lung at him, Andrew sidesteps and the girls bump foreheads. He grabs both of their collars, and uses Victoria to deflect an attacking Wendy. Hannah come sin from the left, and Andrew tosses Shannon at her, forcing both girls to topple over. Francine executes a roundhouse kick, but Andrew dodges, and catches her leg. He swings her around, and aims her at Victoria and Wendy, who are getting back to their feet. Andrew releases her, and Francine's impact throws the other two girls out of the ring, but Francine remains. Shannon and Hannah jumps onto Andrew's back, and latch on, Andrew responds by falling backwards, crushing the girls beneath him. He jumps up, and both girls groan, clearly having little fight left in them. Andrew quickly pushes them outside the boundary, and turns to face Francine. The Femme Fatales leaps into the air, and lands a kick on Andrew's stomach, the boy clutches her foot, and both topple out of the ring.
Chris claps, pleased, "Well, that was quite the match. Master Shogun McLean is pleased."
"Chris, who wins?" Kevin asks.
"Hmm...well, Andrew did hit the ground first...and I'm a sucker for blondes, so the winners are the Femme Fatales!"
The Femme Fatales crowd around Francine, and give her a group hug, after forcing Wendy away, she declares, "Chris, thats great! And, a little creepy...but great nontheless! Let the records show that I, Francine, hath kicked the crap out of yonder toadie!" she laughs, and points at Andrew, who is brushing dirt off his pants.
Chris turns to the disgruntled Team Masculine, "Boys, I'll see you at the Gilded Chris Ceremony....again."
Both teams return to their trailers. Inside the Masculine trailer, nobody says a single word, and the air is thick and tense. Parker finally speaks up, "Hey, everyone, can I speak to Tristan for a minute?" The other boys nod, and leave, except for Tristan.
"So, um, what's up?" Tristan asks nervously.
Parker stands up, and walks over to Tristan, and sits next to him, "I've notices that you seem to be uncomfortable around me. It's little things..making excuses so you don't have to be around me, things like that. So, I'd like to know, why are you doing that?"
Outside, the other four boys wait impatiently.
"Ugh, it's freezing out here, are they down, yet?" Edward groans.
Andrew sighs, "Hang on a tick, I'll go see," Andrew gets up, and slowly opens the door.
Tristan is silent. Parker frowns, "Is it because I'm gay?"
Tristan, slowly, nods. Parker nods as well, "I see."
Andrew steps back outside, "Guys, guys! C'mon, come here! Do you what I just heard? Tristan's been getting out of challenges, and acting weird because Parker is gay. Can you believe that?"
The other boys, except Kevin, murmur angrily to each other.
"I say we go in there, and give Tristan a piece of our mind, and then we can vote him out," Andrew says quietly. Edward and David agree.
Kevin speaks up, "Well, maybe we should ask him about it, and see if there's more to the story. Tristan doesn't seem like the hateful type, and he has been trying to make up for last season..."
"Do what you wish," Andrew says, but we're taking action. Andrew, Edward and David storm into the trailer, surprising both Parker and Tristan.
"I heard what was said, you homophobic swine," Andrew steps up to Tristan, "He's your teammate, and you need to respect him, regardless of what your ignorant beliefs are," Andrew stares angrily into Tristan's frightened eyes. Edward and David stand adamantly behind Andrew, but do not say anything. Kevin watches from the doorway.
Tristan stands up, and steps back, "No, you don't understand! Look, my parents raised me to think that homosexuality was wrong. But, I don't have anything against Parker personally, I think he's a nice guy...I'm just not sure what I believe right now. I've only been avoiding him because I didn't want to say something that might offend him. I'm not homophobic, I swear! I'm just trying to figure out what I am and am not okay with, you know?" Tristan puts his hands up defensively.
"That's the biggest load of crap I've heard all season long," Andrew begins advancing towards Tristan again. Parker steps in.
"Look, Andrew, I appreciate that you and the others are so ready to defend me, it shows that you guys really do think of me as a friend, but you can't intimidate him," Parker points to Tristan, "just because he was raised a different way. If you all accept me for being different, then you have to accept him, as well, or at least respect that he has his own opinions. It works both ways, otherwise it's hypocritical."
Andrew looks both furious, and embarassed. Parker, calmly, asks, "Were you all going to vote him out tonight?" Andrew says nothing, but Edward and David slowly nod their heads, and look towards the ground in shame. Parker speask up again, "Look, I did the worst in the challenge, today, I should be the one going home. Please, you all know what the right choice is," Parker finishes just as the Gilded Chris fanfare plays.
"We should probably get going," Kevin says, and leaves quietly. Edward and David follow, and finally, Andrew does as well. Parker begins leaving as well, but Tristan speaks up, "Hey, Parker...I really appreciate that, bro. You're a good guy, and I have nothing against you, but I'm still not sure what I think is right."
"It's fine, I'm sure you'll figure it out, in time," Parker smiles, faintly, and begins leaving again. Tristan calls out one more time, "I'm not sure how to thank you..."
"Nobody's asking you to," Parker replies, as he leaves the trailer. Tristan, standing alone, nods, and heads to the ceremony.
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
A montage of Chris' best, and the castmates' most painfully embarassing moments play, as Chris enters the stage holding a plate of five awards.
"Team Masculine, welcome to your third ceremony in a row. I think anyone could be going home," Chris chuckles, but the castmates remain silent, "Under your seats, you will find your voting devices. Cast your vote for the person you want eliminated," the castmates do so, and Chef Hatchet hands Chris a slip of paper, "The votes have been cast, and the first Gilded Chris' goes to....Kevin. The next person who is safe is....David," Chris throws the two awards out to the safe contestants, "Next, is Edward," Chris throws the award out, "Tristan is also safe," Chris throws the Gilded Chris to Tristan, leaving Andrew stunned. Chris continues, "The final award goes to......"
"Andrew," Chris tosses the final Gilded Chris to Andrew, who is too stunned to catch it. Parker stands up, "I was never one for words, so I'll just go ahead and catch the limosine,"
"Lame-O-Sine," Chris corrects.
"Right," Parker rolls his eyes, "Anyway, before I go, you guys are awesome, and I think of each of you as a friend. Thank you to everyone who voted out the right person, tonight," Parker waves his final goodbye, walks down the Red Carpet of Shame, and leaves in the waiting Lame-O-Sine.
"And with that, we're down to eleven! Join us next time for another shocking episode of....Total.....Drama....Action!" Chris signs off, and heads backstage.
Edward and David walk over to Tristan, "Hey, sorry, dude...we cool?" David asks. Tristan nods.
"Yeah, I'm sorry, too..." Edward says, reluctantly. Tristan knuckle taps him, to show his forgiveness. Andrew stands up, quickly, and brushes past Tristan.
"This isn't over," he whispers, and disappears towards the trailer. Tristan gulps, and the camera fades out over the film lot.
Chapter Seven: "Blaming Private Ryan"
Chris McLean, clad from head-to-toe in a World War II military uniform, stands next to a cannon, and Chef Hatchet, who is dressed as a military pilot.
"You know what, Chef? Olive drab really brings out my eyes," Chris smiles, as he looks at his own reflection in the gleaming metal of the cannon. Chef, unimpressed, rolls his eyes, and lights the fuse at the end of the cannon. The cannon explodes with a formidible, 'boom', as the fired shell launches across the film lot. The cannon ball flies through the air, heading for a straight on collision with Team Masculine's trailer. Inside the trailer, the guys are making idle chit chat.
Edward, in the midst of a story, lounges on an empty bunk, "So anyway, I says to the guy, Cheez-Its are NOT the same as Cheese Nips," the other guys nod in agreement.
"The ignorance of some people," David sighs. No sooner does David finish his sentence, the rouge cannon ball smashes through the team's trailer. Andrew, David, Kevin and Tristan drop to the ground. Edward, who was laying on a top bunk, spasms, and falls over the edge, his shorts catch on the corner of the bunk, and he is left hanging in midair.
--Confessional-- "I'm not sure what happened!" David scrambles into the confessional, "One minute, we're having a intellectual group discussion, the next mintues, kablooie! There's a hole in a trailer the size of Nova Scotia!" --Confessional--
The members of Team Masculine who dropped to the floor raise up, cautiously. "C'mon, dudes, let's go outside and see what's going on!" Kevin waves for the other to follow him, as he jets through the trailer's door. They comply, leaving Edward dangling upside down.
"Hello..? Guys? Is anyone going to help me down?" Edward groans. His pants uncatch, and he hits the floor, head first. "I hate this show.....with gusto," he gripes.
Outside, the Femme Fatales have also rushed outside to find the source of the loud noise.
--Confessional-- "It isn't enough that I have to put up with a team full of squawking imbeciles, who prattle on and on about who's right, and who's a traitor, and blah, blah, blah! Now, there's explosions! Who sets off explosions at elevenat night? Chris McLean does, because he's a miserable...," Hannah's confessional is cut short by a knock on the door. A voice soon follows, "Hannah! Let us make haste to see what yonder noise was!" Francine calls from behind the door. Hannah sighs, and smiles falsely, "Be right there!"--Confessional--
Everyone, minus Edward, has found there way to Chris and Chef. Most look angry, upon seeing the cannon.
"Did you shoot a hole through out trailer?" Tristan asks, his glare alternating between Chris, and the smoking barrel of the cannon.
"Nope, wasn't me. Anyway, today's," Chris begins, but is interrupted by Victoria, "Tonight's, you mean," she innocently corrects.
After a few moments of angry silence, Chris continues, "Today's challenge is based on the classic war movie genre. Every since the beginning of everything, man has enjoyed destroying each other. And with the birth of cinema, we can all enjoy that experience in the comforts of home. Except for you guys, today, you'll all engage in your own war! Using state of the art paintball guns! Blue for Team Masculine, and red for the Femme Fatales" Chris picks up a nearby paintball gun, "Painted in neon colors and modeled to look nothing like real guns, just in case someone felt like sueing us over violent content, or something."
Edward skedaddles out of the trailer, and jumps next to his team, "That's for leaving me! Boy, oh, boy, I sure am glad to have a great bunch of friends like you all!"
Andrew rolls his eyes, "What lot, Chris?"
"What lot for what? Anybody mind filling me in on what I missed while I was left to die? What are those guns for? And furthermore, why did someone shoot a gaping hole in our trailer? Did you guys forget about that, like you forgot to help me down?" Edward steams with anger, as the rest of his teams looks at him with concerned faces.
"Dude, chill out, we're sorry..." David backs away slowly.
"Your team can fill you in on the details of today's challenge," Chris says, hesitantly, "Now, everyone head over to lot forty-one. Inside the lot, you'll see a rack of paintball guns, pre-dug trenches, foxholes, and other stuff to hide behind while you shoot at each other. The winner will be the team that can take out the other team, first," Chris explains.
"Obviously," Tristan rolls his eyes, "You say that like the team who loses all it's members first could be the winners," Chris glares at Tristan for a few seconds, and then shoots him in the knee with his paintball gun. Tristan heaves out a painful grunt, and falls to the ground. Andrew stifles his laughter. Kevin and David quickly help Tristan back up onto his feet.
"Oh sure, he gets hurt, everybody rushes to help him. But if Edward's in trouble, let's just leave him to fend for himself!" Edward growls.
Kevin looks upset, "Hey, come on now, we said we wre sorry..." Edward ignores him, and walks off to lot forty-one by himself. Andrew, Kevin, David and Tristan all glance guiltily to one another before heading off to lot forty-one. The Femme Fatales walk with less haste.
"So, it's agreed, if we lose, Wendy is splits-ville," Francine chortles.
Wendy looks concerned by this declaration, "Wait, what?"
"We've had enough of you around here. We don't want a two-face on our team," Francine continues to speak in sing-song.
Shannon looks at Wendy sympathetically, "Francine, I think we should vote out whoever preformed worst in the challenge, if we lose. And besides...I think Wendy was telling the truth."
"What makes you think that?" Francine says, surprised by Shannon's position on the matter, "I spent last season on a team with her, and I've noticed something. Usually when she speaks, she never breaks eye contact until the end of her sentence. But, after being found out, she averts her eyes to the ground every fifth or sixth word. A common practice for those who have something to hide..." Francine eyes Wendy sternly.
Jessica speaks up, "That's silly, don't you think? I think I believe her, too. The poor girl has oured her heart out, trying to get us to believe her. I just don't think she would try that hard if she really was guilty," Jessica stand sby Shannon and Wendy. Francine shrugs.
"Very well, believe what you must. I blame neither of you for your choices. If we lose, we'll see who goes home at the ceremony, I suppose," Francine flicks her wrist, and walks towards lot forty-one.
The teams arrive at lot forty-one, and are amazed to see a full-out battlefield, just as Chris promised.
"Wow, Chris can come up short when it comes to housing, edible food, or medical treatment for us contestants, but he sure knows how to put on a good show," David says, wide-eyed.
"Celebrity Manhunt names your's truly 'Greatest Reality Show Host' every year for a reason, you know," Chris brags.
"How long are you going to ride that scooter, McLean?" Tristan walks by, unimpressed. Chris, who is still holding the paintball gun from earlier, shoots Tristan in the back of the thigh. Tristan, wincing with pain, climbs to his feet. The two teams load up on paintball guns, and head to opposite sides of the battlefield.
"On my whistle, the challenge begins," Chris calls out through his megaphone. After a few seconds, he blows the whistle, and exits the lot.
Team Masculine huddles around Andrew, "Okay, boys, I'll head up the center. Edward and David, you head up the left side, Kevin you go right," Andrew instructs.
"What about me," Tristan asks, confused.
"What about you?" Andrew responds rhetorically, before slowly advancing up the middle of the battlefield.
Kevin puts a hand on Tristan's shoulder, "I could use some backup," Tristan smiles, and the two head right.
On the Femme Fatales' side, Francine has instructed her troops into a trench.
"Just lay low, and we'll mow them down with paint once they get close enough!" Francine whispers confidently. Her team nods in approval.
Midway into the battlefield, Andrew runs into a foxhole. "I'll lay low, and mow them down with paint when they get close enough", he chuckles to himself.
On the left side of the battlefield, Edward and David approach the Femme Fatales' trench.
"Big D. to Little E., no sign of the belligerents, do you copy?" David whispers to Edward.
Edward looks confused, "Um...I don't see them either, if that's what you mean..."
Francine peeks over the top of the trench, "Enemy spotted! Fire at will!" The Femme Fatales unleash a flurry of paintballs at Edward and David, who are left completely in shock, and with little cover.
"Little E.! Little E.!" David calls to Edward, as he returns fire. He gets no response. David looks over to see Edward face down, covered in red paintballs. David shimmies over to Edward, and flips him over, "Little E.! No! You jezebels! You pretend killed him!" David shoots off multiple shots from his weapon.
On the right side, Kevin and Tristan hear David firing.
"Can you tell what's going on?" Trisan asks.
"Naw," Kevin replies, "I'm going to try and better a better look. Kevin stand ups, and manages to peer down the trench. He sees the Femme Fatales, taking cover. David's shots managed to eliminate Shannon and Wendy from the challenge. Kevin raises his paintball gun to fire, but before he can pull the trigger, a paintball whizzes through the air, and hits him in the lower stomach. Kevin drops his gun, and clutches the impact spot. Two more paintballs hit him in the chest. He falls to the ground. Tristan fires at the trench, and holds his fallen comrade.
"Kev! Speak to me!" Tristan shakes him.
Kevin's eyes flicker between open and closed, "So....cold....paint....going to stain my shirt..." Kevin closes his eyes.
Tristan looks tearfully at his friend, he cries out, "Nooo!!" A paintball zips by him, "Oh, crap! I forgot, they're right there!" Tristan drops Kevin, who grunts, and runs towards the foxhole Andrew is huddled behind.
"What are you doing?" Andrew sneers.
"Trying to stay in the game," Tristan says matter-of-factly. Andrew leans over the top of the foxhole, and fires at the trench. He looks to the side, and sees that David has been eliminated from the challenge.
Andrew heaves out a sigh, "We're all that's left."
"Are you serious?" Tristan groans.
"No, I'm joking, you idiot," Andrew shoves him, softly.
Tristan looks serious, "You know, I didn't do anything to you. I sat down with Parker, and we talked about the issue, calmly. You're the one who came in, and started intimidating people," Tristan's face grows stern, as several paintballs fly overhead.
In the trench, Francine and Victoria are the only ones to remain in the challenge.
"We've got them on the ropes, Boss Lady," Victoria chimes happily, Francine pats her on the head, and hands her a piece of hard candy.
"They haven't returned fire ina few minutes, I think one of us should go up there, and see if they're still in this thing," Francine suggests, nervously.
"I'm not going up there," Victoria says flat-out, "I'm not that stupid."
Back in the foxhole, Tristan continues speaking up to Andrew, "I've been trying my best to make up for what I did last season, and I'm contributing to the team now. Parker and I have made our peace. So, why do you continue to treat me like I'm a crook? I think it's because you're too comfortable being up on your high horse that you can't accept that you made a mistake by charging into the situation like that. That must be it, because Edward and David apologized, and everything is cool with them now. You're the only one who still has a problem.."
Andrew looks stunned, "I....You're right..."
Tristan looks confused, "What did you say?"
"I said, you're right. I was angry because of my mistake. I'm so used to being the golden boy, I haven't really learned to take my faults with stride. It never really occurred to me, until you said that...I....I'm sorry. If you and the others can forgive me....maybe we can start acting like a team, again," Andrew's face is completely flushed with guilt.
Tristan looks at him for a few seconds, "You forgave me for what I did last season....it's only fair that I give you another chance, too," Tristan smiles, slightly. The two bump fists, and share a brief smile.
"The girls haven't shot at us in a while, I think we should rush them," Andrew sighs.
"What do we have to lose?" Tristan shrugs, and the boys hop over the foxhole. They rush up to the trench, and see Francine and Victoria arguing.
"You go!" Francine says, "Or I want my hard cnady back!"
"Never! I'll never give it back!" Victoria shouts in response. Both girls glare at each other, and bare their teeth, before looking up, only to see Tristan and Andrew ready to fire.
"Oh, sh--" Victoria is cut off by the barrage of paintballs.
Chris bursts through the lot's door, "Team Masculine wins! Femme Fatales, you're overdue at the ceremony, anyway. See you in an hour!"
Tristan, Andrew, and the 'fallen' members of Team Masculine cheer, while the Femme Fatales groans, and look uncomfortably to each other.
"So, you guys made up?" Edward questions, looking at Tristan and Andrew.
"It sounds weird when you word it that way, but...yeah, pretty much," Tristan shrugs.
The Team Masculine members preforma group high-five, and depart, singing the theme song from The Karate Kid.
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
"Well, well, haven't seen you girls here in a while," Chris says. The girls glare at him, "Geez, kids today have no sense of humor. Anyway, you all know how it works, vote for the person you want eliminated, and whoever does not receive a Gilded Chris will be sent packing. And you can never come back, ever, ever, ever, forever."
The members of the Femme Fatales follow the routine, which has been imbedded in their brains for some time, by now.
"Well, that sure was fast," Chris announces. Chef Hatchet brings Chris a plate of five awards, and the results of the voting, "Hmm, the votes have been cast, and the first Gilded Chris goes to.....Hannah," Chris lobs the award at Hannah, who barely manages to dodge it. In response, she preforms an obscene hand gesture.
"I get those a lot," Chris laughs, seeing Hannah's hand, "Next, Jessica is safe. Victoria. And.......Francine, is also safe," Chris hands out the awards.
--Confessional-- "I knew who I had to vote for," Wendy says, as she hangs her head in shame, "It was the only choice I could make, really." --Confessional--
--Confessional-- Shannon sits, "I was really confused, being in the bottom two...It was a really, just a horrible feeling. I was especially nervous, since the only other time I was in the bottom two, I was sent away..." --Confessional--
"Shannon, Wendy, the final Gilded Chris goes to..........."
"Shannon," Chris announces after a long pause, and throws the final award out, "Wendy, it's time to hit the Lame-o-Sine!"
Wendy gets up, and begins walking to the Lame-o-Sine, Shannon stands up.
"Wait, how did she get eliminated? Jessica and I didn't vote for her, and I doubt Victoria did..." Shannon questions, aloud.
Wendy's eyes begin tearing up, "Shannon.....Francine was right. I did lie. I was stringing Steven along while I had a boyfriend..."
Shannon shakes her head in disbelief, "Why....? But, why would you do that? I trusted you! Do you understand what trust means? I don't think you do!"
"I...I just wanted to stay in the game, I panicked...I wasn't trying to," Wendy is interrupted by a furious Shannon.
"Just, get out of here!" Shannon commands. Wendy quietly leaves in the Lame-o-Sine.
The other Femme Fatales surround Shannon, who cries out in fury, "I trusted her! I was there for her when no one else was! And that's how she thanked me? Well, forget her!"
The other Femme Fatales silently hug their teammate. Shannon's anger turns to violent tears, and she hugs her team in return.
Chris quietly signs off the show, "Team Masculine managed to repair itself, and the Femme Fatales come to a crash. Join us next time, when the teams will merge, and everyone will be one their own....on Total...Drama....Action...."
Chapter Eight: "The Great Detention Escape"
"Hey there, viewers, Chris McLean here. Remember the eighties? I know I do," Chris looks up at the sky, as if to reflect on his fond memories, "It was a time when it was cool for dudes to cross dress and wear make-up, everyone had big hair, nobody knew of the dangers of caffine or cholesterol, and it spawned some of the greatest coming-of-age films, ever," Chris removes his blue short sleeve shirt to reveal a white undershirt that has the words, 'I Love 1985'.
The castmates, who are standing nearby, look awkwardly to one another. "Chris....please put your shirt back on..," Andrew requests.
Chris looks over at the teens, annoyed. He puts his blue shirt back on, and scowls, "You nineties kids have no respect for your elders."
The castmates look to one another, again. "But, you're like, what, eight years older than us? I have siblings with a greater age difference," Jessica retorts.
"Enough, you kids know I hate discussing my age. Now, welcome to the merge! The final ten, ladies and gentlemen!" Chris throws his hands over, pointing out the remaining cast. They stare blankly at the camera, except for Victoria, who waves enthusiastically.
"For your first challenge on an individual level, you'll need to escape the detention room, which will be under the watchful eye of--," Chris is interrupted by Francine.
"The underqualified Chef Hatchet?" Francine finishes Chris' sentence.
"......Shut up," Chris looks angrily that a contestant has once again stolen his spotlight, "The watchful eye of Chef. So....escaping detention....the eighties.....It's coming-of-age movie genre week!"
Tristan looks confused, "Didn't you already say that?"
"I was just repeating myself, dude, I know sometimes you kids get a little confused," Chris shifts his eyes to Victoria, who is chasing a butterfly, in circles.
Chef Hatchet, wearing a slicked-back wig and a pants suit, emerges, "Okay, maggots, you're mine, now...hehehehehehe..," Chef waves a spoon, menacingly, as is his custom. The cast gulps, and looks to Chris.
"Everyone over to lot four hundred and thirty-one. There you will find your set, and Principal Chef will explain the challenge, in detail," Chris begins walking away, while whistling a catchy eighties song.
The teens, and Principal Chef begin walking towards the unusually high-numbered lot.
--Confessional-- "It's been about a week since I've tried to talk to Jessica about her feelings over Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, so I'm going to try again, today," Shannon says, with uncharactaristic lackluster in her voice. Her eyes are red and puffy, and she appears very tired. --Confessional--
--Confessional-- "If I want to get some peace and quiet around here, I'll need to win this thing. But, I'll need some help to do that," Hannah raises one eyebrow in contemplative thought, "I need an alliance, but I don't want to be stuck with a talker...And, my fellow former Raging Foxes know of my outburst last season, so maybe it's a good idea if I take a stroll over to the 'Duck pond," Hannah smiles, slightly deviously. --Confessional--
The teens, and Principal Chef enter the lot, and inside they see a large set, resembling a hallway. In the middle of the hallway, there is a large set of doors. Principal Chef opens the doors, and ushers the ten teenagers through. Through the doors, the rest of the lot has been decorated to look like an impressively large library. Among the thousands of book and dozens of shelves, which are scattered across two stories, this is a spiral stairway, and five large desks, each with enough room for two people. Principal Chef begins his explanation of the challenge, as the kids marvel over the impressive set.
"Here's the scoop, y'all are in detention, and I'm the unnecessarily handsome and strict principal, in charge of keeping you locked up here. Your challenge, is to try and break out of here, without being caught. If you try to escape, and I catch you, you are eliminated from the challenge. The first person to escape, or the last person to not be eliminated, wins invincibility. Any questions?" Principal Chef says.
"Uh, yeah, what happens if.." Kevin begins to question.
"Shut up and sit down, boy! This ain't your momma's house, this is my house!" Chef hollers at Kevin, who shrinks away in fright. Chef walks out of the libray set, and into the hallway, closing the doors behind him and grumbling, "Asking all kind a questions...I don't get paid to answer no questions...should have taken that job at the Pentagon..."
The contestants pair off, and sit in their desks. Andrew and Tristan share a desk, Kevin and Edward share one, and Francine and Victoria pair up. Hannah spots Shannon walking towards a desk, and tries to rush over, only to be called over by David, "Hey, Hannah, want to share a desk?"
Hannah looks back over at Shannon, and sees that Jessica has taken the spot next to her. Hannah sighs, and sits with David.
The contestants sit silently, for about twenty minutes. Andrew sighs, and rests his head in his hand, and glances at Francine. Tristan notices, and says, "Dude, I thought you were mad at her?"
Andrew frowns, "I was, for a while, but then...I just missed her, a lot.."
"Well, why don't you try and work things out with her? You know, talk to her, and stuff?" Tristan suggests.
Andrew looks saddened, "Well, I tried that, back at Playa Des Losers, but she wanted no part of it. That's why I got so mad...she wouldn't listen to my side. I mean, it's just a song, I don't even know a girl named Clemetine..." Andrew's face filled with anger, quickly, but is then flushed with sadness.
Tristan pats him on the back, "Look, you convinced the guys to give me a second chance, how's about I try and get her to talk to you, at the very least?"
Andrew looks up, "You would do that, even after I turned against you?"
"Ah, don't worry about it, it's all good," Tristan smiles, and shrugs. Andrew smiles too, and they high-five.
Meanwhile, over at Hannah and David's table, David is talking incessantly.
"So anyway, that's how I helped Arnold Schwartzennegger save Christmas, and win back the love of his son," David proclaims, proudly. Hannah nods, and says nothing, as David begins another story. "So I was sitting on a bench, yeah? And this guy with a buzz cut and a white suit starts telling me about all the shoes he's worn, and how his mama told him they were magic, or something...." David voice trails off in the background as Hannah's eye twitches. She glances over at the table wear Shannon and Jessica are sitting.
Shannon turns to Jessica, and asks, "Hey, we haven't spoken much over the last few days....will you please try and talk about your problem with me, now?" Shannon has bags under her eyes, which are half closed, and blank.
Jessica looks angered, "You want to know something? I hate it. I really do, and I'd prefer not to talk about it, when nothing can be done. But you know what else? I think you have the same thing going on. Cleaning, rinsing, washing, scrubbing, over, and over, and over...sounds a lot like OCD, to me," Jessica remarks.
Shannon turns away slowly, and blankly looks at her rubber gloves, and fannypack full of cleaning items. She lays her head down, and stares at the wall.
The table behind them houses Kevin and Edward. "Are you still upset about us leaving you?" Kevin looks guiltily to Edward.
"No," Edward says, "I'm jumping for freakin' joy because of it," he smiles sarcastically.
Kevin looks guily still, but also has stern looks in his face, "Look, I'm sorry we rushed out of there so fast, and left you. But look at it this way, there was a hole blown through our trailer. We were scared, and frantic. It wasn't personal, and I'm sure I speak for the other guys when I say that I feel terrible about it, but can you please let it go, already?"
Edward sighs, "Yeah, I suppose. I'm...sorry that I'm so irritable...I don't mean to be so antagonistic. It's just that...I haven't had a real friend since my anger issues started, all the way back in third grade.."
"Do you think, maybe, if you tried to control your temper a bit more, it would be easier to make new friends? And then it would get easier to keep your temper under control?" Kevin questions, concerned.
"Yeah," Edward shrugs, "maybe."
"And, what about Reese and Morgan? Weren't they your friends?" Kevin suggests the previous contestants, in an effort to cheer Edward up.
Edward frowns, "Reese is a great guy, and I like him and all, but we weren't very close friends. And Morgan...I thought he was going to be my first real friend, in eight years. But, our friendship has been rockier than any given Pamela Anderson marriage," Edward and Kevin chuckle slightly at the joke.
"Hey, don't worry about it, dude. I'm sure you'll get plenty of friends, if you can just tone down the anger, a smidge," Kevin playfully punches Edward in the arm.
"Yeah, you're probably right," Edward looks at Kevin, "Kevin? Would....you be my friend?"
--Confessional-- "I really was shocked," Kevin says in the confessional, "I kept thinking about when I became friends with Gerald, how similar it was to this...and about how I had so few friends last season." --Confessional--
"Yeah, sure, man..." Kevin smiles.
--Confessional-- "I didn't mean to put Kevin on the spot like that," Edward smirks in the confessional, "But it'll be nice to finally have a real friend, again." --Confessional--
"Alright," Edward smiles, "Now let's bust out of this joint!" Edward stands up, and pulls Kevin with him by his collar.
--Confessional-- " I was so taken by how deep conversations about theatrics can be, I toootaaalllly forgot about the challenge," Victoria giggles. --Confessional--
Seeing Edward and Tristan stand up, Tristan leaps to his feet, "Oh, crap! The challenge!"
The teens scramble to their feet, and rush the door at once, with Edward and Kevin exiting first, followed by Victoria, David, Andrew, Shannon, Francine, Jessica, Hannah and Tristan.
David looks at Tristan, who exited last, "Hey, aren't you the sporto? You must be getting out of shape, you were the last one out," David jokingly slaps Tristan on the back. Tristan glares at the shorter boy.
--Confessional-- "That little meathead doesn't know what he's talking about," Tristan says nervously, as he lifts up his jersey, in the confessional, exposing his lower stomach. He frantically pokes it with his finger, and then lets out a sigh of relief, "Like a rock, baby. Like a rock," Tristan smiles. --Confessional--
Principal Chef is shown to be asleep in the hallway. "Jeez, how long were we in there talking?" Francine looks at a nearby clock on the wall, concerned with the time.
Chris walks into the lot, "Well, since Nappy McSleepyhead over there failed his simple task, I had to watch things from the monitoring room," Chris glares at Chef, who awakens.
In a drowzy stuper, Chef shouts, "What are you children doing in the Pentagon? This is a restricted area!" Chef removes a spoon from his pocket, "Leave immediately, or I'll be forced to taser you!" Chef swings the spoon around, and falls back to sleep. The contestants look both confused, and frightened.
".....Anyway....," Chris also seems confused by Chef's behavior, "He wonders why I never pay him. Now, Edward and Kevin are the winners of invincibility, for being the first out of the doors. Everyone else is on the chopping block, so meet at the stage in ten for your first Gilded Chris Ceremony on an individual level!"
Edward and Kevin high-five, while the other contestants walk in the direction of the stage.
--Confessional-- Hannah steps in, "I need to get some of the others to vote with me, tonight," Hannah thinks for a moment, "I need to rope Shannon into that alliance, but there is someone I need to get rid of, first.." Hannah shudders in the confessional --Confessional--
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
Chris, in his usual powder blue tuxedo, walks on stage, already holding the plate of awards, "Since Chef refuses to work, I'll have to do everything by myself," he pouts, "Now, under your seats, you will find your voting devices. Tap the picture of the person you want eliminated, other than Edward or Kevin," Chris instructs, as the castmates comply. A large machine spits out a slip of paper, "The votes have been cast, and the first two Gilded Chris Awards will go to our winners, Kevin and Edward," Chris grabs two awards, and chucks them out to the boys. Chris reviews the slip of paper, again, "The next Chris goes to.....Victoria. Andrew...and Francine, are also safe tonight..," Chris throws out the awards to the safe contestants. He checks the paper once more, "There are only four awards left on this plate, and the next one if for.....Shannon. Hannah, you are also safe," Chris rapidly distributes the chocolate statuettes.
David, Tristan, and Jessica looks nervously to each other. Chris picks an award up, "This one is for....Tristan," Chris lobs the statuette at the jock, who effortlessly catches it.
--Confessional-- "HahaHAHA!" Tristan scoffs triumphantly, as he eats his Gilded Chris, "Out of shape my foot." --Confessional--
Chris looks serious, as he cradles the final award in his arms, "David, Jessica....this is the final Gilded Chris of the evening. One of you will be leaving, and the other will be staying," Chris readies the award to be thrown, "The final Gilded Chris goes to......................"
"Jessica," Chris wings the manifestation of safety to Jessica, who fumbles to catch it. David shrugs, and gets up off of the bleachers. Most of the contestants wave their goodbyes, except Hannah, who crosses her arms.
"I'm not really sure why you guys picked me to be eliminated," David rubs his chin, "But this reminds me of the time I learned karate, and defeated a corrupt student from a rival dojo..." David begins a story, but is hauled off to the Lame-O-Sine by two interns.
--Confessional-- "There he goes again," Hannah rolls her eyes, "Talking up a storm..." --Confessional--
Chris smiles, "You witnessed it here, folks! The first elimination of the merge! Who will win next week? Who will be eliminated next week? Will Chef get fired? And could I possibly get any handsomer? Find out next time, on Total.....Drama....Action!"
Chapter Nine: "Clue(less)"
As the sun rises over the abandoned film lot and the rest of Toronto, Chris has already assembled the final nine contestants in the mess hall tent. He has with him a large, thick envelope, and is wearing a detective's cape and hat, as well as a large, poofy fake moustache. "Alright, kids. There's been a murder on the film lot," Chris says sullenly.
--Confessional-- "A murder!? Who keeps a reality show going after someone has died on set? Who died, anyone? Surely it couldn't have been one of the interns, they're always coming and going...that only leaves.." Kevin stammers in the confessional, as he realizes who the victim is. --Confessional--
Kevin begins weeping openly. Chris nods, "Looks like Kevin has put two and two together, which equals the death...of Chef Hatchet!"
"You realize putting two number together has never, in the history of man, equaled the death of a cook, doncha?" Tristan says, unimpressed.
"Duh, dude. I was just adding what they call, 'dramatic effect'," Chris glares at the boy.
Tristan gives Chris a thumbs up, "Just checking."
--Confessional-- "I knew from the get-go that Chef wasn't dead. Chris wouldn't be able to stop crying if his boyfriend had been murdered," Jessica confidently declares, as she tries to restrain herself from rubbing her hands together. She takes the hand sanitizer bottle that she always keeps in her pocket out, and flings it. The bottle hits the confessional's mirror, causing it to partially shatter. Jessica leans over so that her face is centered on the side of the mirror that is mostly free of cracks, and laughs nervously, "Um, oops..." --Confessional--
"Why? Oh, why did it have to be Chef? So many meals left un-force fed to children...so many spoons unwaved in threatening ways...so many snappy one-liners left unsaid," Victoria joins Kevin in crying over the supposed death of the unloved Chef. Edward pats both of them sympathetically on the back.
Chris, looking uncomfortable, begins to clarify, "Chef isn't actually dead...it's all part of today's challenge!" Chris opens the envelope, and removes nine cards, "Today's challenge is centered around the classic murder mystery, a genre of movie that has been overwhelmingly popular with stuffy British people for hundreds over years."
"Hasn't film only existed for about a hundred-twenty years or so?" Shannon looks at the host, disappointed with his lack of crdible facts.
--Confessional-- "I'm finally starting to feel like I'm back normal," Shannon smiles, "It's been a few weeks since Wendy betrayed me, and I think I'm finally getting over it. That means I can get my head back in the game!" Shannon raises her head confidently, "Hey....who broke the mirror?" Shannon begins sweeping bits of broken glass into a dust pan that she randomly produces. After cleaning up the glass, she looks into the side of the mirror that is intact, "I've taken what Jessica said to me to heart, and I think that can help me get a feel for what she is experiencing, and hopefully, get her to open up." --Confessional--
"Hey, who is the host? Hmm, is it you?" Chris scoffs at Shannon's undeniable logic.
"Well, um," Shannon isn't given a chance to answer, as Chris cuts back in.
"Didn't think so. Now, for your challenge, I will give you one of these cards. Each one has the description of the character you will be playing for the challenge. Be sure to keep them a secret from each other. Now, one of you will receive a card that notes that you are the killer. It is your job to kill off the other characters before they discover your identity. If the killer manages to kill everyone, or is discovered when there is only one other player left in the game, the person playing the killer wins invincibility. If they are discovered before that, whoever is left alive, besides the killer, will win the coveted invincibility prize. Everyone understand?" Chris begins passing out cards.
"Not exactly..." Hannah looks moderately confused by Chris' description of the challenge.
"Good. Now that everyone has their cards, feel free to read them to the audience in the confessional. But, if you're the killer, be sure to leave that detail out. The audience enjoys it much more when they get to try and guess who the culprit is," Chris begins walking away, "Once everyone is ready, report to lot one-thousand, where you will find the set for today's challenge."
--Confessional-- Edward enters with his card, "What the crap happened to the mirror?" He looks perplexed by it's shattered remains, but continues on and reads his card aloud, "A disgruntled gardner who was nearly always on bad terms with the victim. Was once involved in a lawsuit with the victim over payment disputes. After losing the lawsuit, he was quoted saying that he would 'dance the mamba with an elderly schoolmaster on the victim's grave, at the time of the latter's death," Edward looks disappointed, "Dude...my guy sucks..." --Confessional--
--Confessional-- "A beautiful, but slow-witted showgirl. Was frequently spotted in public with the victim, most notably during a controversial visit to the county fair, that ended with the kidnapping of three prized hogs. She was blamed for the theft, and was abandoned by the victim during her prosecution. This ruined her career on Broadway, and she has been quoted on multiple occasions swearing her revenge...," Victoria reads her card, and scowls, "It is so unfair that I get the dim-witted girl card. Everyone underestimates me because I'm a little spacy. I might be an air-head, but I am NOT dim-witted!" Victoria takes her card, and storms out of the confesssional. She returns moments later, "How long has that mirror been broken?" --Confessional--
--Confessional-- "Was wonder a ballroom singer, but after faithful enounter with the victim, she lost her job," Shannon reads his card, with ample lackluster in her voice, "How generic can.....," Shannon stops talking as she notices the broken mirror, "Not even going to ask," Shannon takes her card, and leaves. --Confessional--
--Confessional-- Kevin walks into the confessional, "This young man was the son of the victim's wealthy business partner. His father lost all of his money after the victim cheated him, and had him arrested under false charges. His family fell into poverty, and his father resides in jail to this day," Kevin looks up into the broekn mirror, and adamantly remarks, "Father.....I will avenge you..." Kevin rockets out of his seat, and storms out of the confessional in a revenge-fueled fury. --Confessional--
---Confessional-- "This ravishing young lady has been know to star in low budget, over-the-top Oscar-winning motion pictures. She was fired from her first, and currently only big name picture, when the fat, stupid victim, who happened to be the executive producer, decided that he didn't like her shoes," Francine sets her card down, "I took a few liberties with the wording, you know, things I felt would suit my character for the better," Francine looks observantly at the broken mirror, she runs her finger on a section of the mirror that appears to be wet, "Hmm. Judging by the smell, I'd say....hand sanitizer....Jessica...obviously she was angry about something, and threw her bottle of sanitizer at the mirror..." --Confessional--
--Confessional-- "An up and coming baseball star," Tristan stares at the card in his hand, he looks up to the mirror, "Bas-whoa, dude, who decked the mirror? Anyway...Baseball? Gah, they had to make it the one sport I don't like. I mean, it's like, hey guy, I'll throw this ball to you, and you hit it with a stick, and then run around in a circle like a dope," Tristan rolls his eyes, and leaves with his card. --Confessional--
--Confessional-- "A pyscho who was admitted to a mental asylum by the victim, after said victim was made primary guardian by her deceased parents," Jessica frowns angrily, "So, because I have a minor disorder, I'm typecast to play the insane chick? Real humane, Chris," Jessica rolls her eyes, and walks out of the confessional. --Confessional--
--Confessional-- Andrew reads his card with a cocked eyebrow, "Son of a disgraced police chief, the young detective wants nothing more than to prove himself to his father by solving the murder. Though, ironically, the murder victim is the very man responsible for his father's humiliation, leaving the young man hesitant to put forth a full effort," Andrew looks at the confessional mirror, ignoring the fact that it is shattered, "A bit of a goody-two-shoes character, but I think I can spice it up." --Confessional--
--Confessional-- Hannah reads her card silently, "Nice. My character is actually pretty interesting. She was involved in a car accident with the victim, who was under the influence. The resulting crash destroyed her vocal chords, rendering her eternally silent. The victim was declared dead at the scene, and she was found a few yards away, trying to climb out of her wrecked vehicle," Hannah glances up at the mirror, which is being replaced by two interns, "So it looks like whoever killed the victim was around at the time of my character's accident....Hmm..." --Confessional--
The group of nine teens heads to lot one-thousand, wary of each other.
"How is it that this is lot one-thousand, but we can only see, like twenty-six different lots? Also, why is lot one-thousand inbetween lot three and lot thirteen hundred fifty-six?" Andrew questions, upon futher inspection of his surroundings. Most of the cast stays silent, with Edward being the only one to answer, with a very insubstanial, "uhuh." Opening the doors, the contestants are greeted by a large Victorian-esque mansion. The walls of the lot have been painted completely black. There is a cast-iron fence surrounding the house, and a gate leading in. The only lights are pre-lit candles coming from inside the house. The cast musters their collective courage, and begins heading towards possibly the most thrilling challenge, yet. Entering the house, the walls are plastered with cob-webbed picture of the deceased, the wallpaper is starting to peel, and there is a very heavy, intimidating feel in the air. Every single one of the teens seems frightened, including the normally wise-cracking Tristan, level-headed Andrew, and dramatically inclined Francine, who are all standing nervously together near the door. The less brave are also huddled together. The quiet Hannah, reformed bully Edward, and conflicted Shannon are all quaking at the knee. But, the most cowardly bunch yet, newly suave Kevin, defensive Jessica and the usually oblivious Victoria are reduced to cowering masses in the corner.
Tristan, the first to speak up, suggests with no protests, "Let's meet in the parlour, and discuss why we're here..."
The young people inch down the decrepid halway, and into the lavishly furnished parlour room. A wide window is at the front of the room, with a eerie view into the yard. Somehow, a flash of lightning strikes, and a steady rain begins to fall outside. The lightning causes the cast-iron fence to shimmer, highlighting to the group that they are, indeed, trapped in the house. Each member of the group sits in a chair. It is quiet for about twenty-minutes, with the majority of the group watching the storm outside. Hannah waves for the attention of the others, and hands a small note to Francine, who reads it aloud for the rest to hear.
"To the nine strangers. Welcome to Hatchet Manor. You have all been invited here for one reason. You have all, at some point, been suspects in the murder of one C. Hatchet. The local authorities wish for you to stay in this house until they arrive. Should you be absent from the house upon their arrival, you will immediately become a prime suspect, so it is for your own good that you remain inside. Investigations will begin with the arrival of the D.A. However, it is highly unlikely that any of you will survive that long, especially since person responsible for the murder of C. Hatchet is in fact among you, tonight. Best Wishes, Your Executioner," Francine finishes the note, and looks around the room.
"Is that some kind of sick joke?" Edward growls, "Who would write such a thing? Who here would have the time? I say it's a fake. Some neighbor kid probably left it here," Edward's intensity grows as he continues to speak.
"Look outside," Andrew points to the window, and into the darkness, "It doesn't look like there are very many neighbors."
"Besides," Shannon says, "How could they have known there were nine of us?"
Francine examines the note, "The ink is still fresh. Serial killers have a habit of leaving calling cards, you know."
"What are you, a detective?" Edward looks at Francine in disbelief.
"Actress, actually. I've worked on projects centered around serial killers in which I've played a detective. I had to research the role, and I can determine by the ink that this note was written within the last ten minutes," Francine looks at Hannah, "Pray tell, where did you find this?"
Hannah points to one of the many small end tables, the one she is pointing towards is very close to Edward.
"What are you saying?" Edward steps forward, Andrew stops him.
"You seem the most confrontational," Francine returns, "And you were the first to speak out about the note, which was allegedly found near you. In my film experience, the killer is usually the one who speaks up first."
Everyone looks at Edward, who looks around angrily, "I ain't done anything. Moreover, you're definately the most talkative, missy. Who says you didn't write the note?"
"I've been over here the whole time," Francine retorts, "Has anyone seen me move from this spot?" None of the others say anything, "See? Therefor, how would I have written the note, planted it behind you, and returned here before anyone noticed?"
Edward is left speechless.
"Therefor, I am practically confirmed to be innocent," Francine scans the other eight, "Which means the killer is one of you!"
"Hmm. I say we scout around the house, and gather anything that could be used as a weapon, and store them all in the hall closet. Then, someone should be placed at the closet, so the killer would have to get past them in order to retrieve a murder weapon," Jessica suggests.
"I concur," Francine replies, "Alright, we go in groups of three," Francine points to Edward, Jessica and Tristan, "You three take the upstairs," she points to Hannah, Kevin and Shannon, "You three take the back portion of the downstairs," she points to Andrew and Victoria, "We will take this room, and the rest of the front rooms."
The groups disperse, and return with armfulls of sinister looking objects, ranging from simple kitchen knives to replica bayonets. They open up the hall closet, and arrange the weapons inside. Kevin, who had retrieved a pad of paper and pencil from the parlour, takes an inventory of all the things inside.
"We need someone to guard it," Andrew says, "Since the lady in pink is practically clear, she should remain with the group, that way, if something happens, we'll be there to.....protect her," Andrew stammers.
Francine cocks and eyebrow at him, but nods in agreement, "Indeed. Now, who should guard the armory?"
The group comes to a concensus that Hannah guard the closet, on the basis that she found the note, and is therefor also clear of any guilt. The rest of the group heads down the hall and to the left, re-entering the parlour.
"If we need to leave, we do so in pairs," Tristan declares.
"Someone come with me, because I need to visit the john," Edward squirms uncomfortably. The other seven suspects look nervously to each other. Shannon finally agrees to join him, with a heavy sigh of disgust. The two depart, and head down the hall, waving to Hannah as they do. Hannah nods.
Back in the parlour, the window blows open and a fierce gust of wind swirls through the room, extinguishing the few candles in the house. The suspects, now in complete darkness, scramble to close the window, and locate some matches. A scream is heard from the halway, sending the group into a frenzy. A seconds, deeper scream is heard seconds later. Finally, the window is shut, and Kevin manages to find a pack of matches, and lights a candle. The group runs into the hall, where they discover Andrew standing between the 'bodies' of Edward and Shannon. Kevin moves the candle over, illuminating the end of the hallway, where Hannah remains, guarding the closet.
"Grab him," Kevin looks at Andrew, "And let's see what's missing from the stash of weapons."
Tristan and Francine takes Andrew's arms, and lead him down the hallway. He shouts, "I didn't kill anyone! I ended up in the hallway during the scramble after the lights went out! Besides, how would I get past her?"
The group ignores him, and opens the door. Kevin takes the inventory list out of his pocket, and looks over everything, "Nothing is missing," he concludes, "Which can only mean that someone kept a weapon with them," Kevin looks back at Andrew, "Search him."
Francine and Tristan turn to Andrew, as do the other surviving suspects. Suddenly, Kevin's candle is blown out by an unknown assailant. His muffled screams for help are heard through the darkness, as Andrew struggles against his restraints. Jessica manages to find the box of matches, which had fallen out of Kevin's pocket, and onto the ground, and re-lights the dropped candle. They discover Kevin's 'body', quite unsurprisingly.
"That clears myself, and these two of any suspicions," Andrew nods his head to Tristan and Francine, "I was restrained the whole time, and they were using both of their hands to hold me back. That leaves either her," Andrew points to Jessica, "Or her," he then points to Victoria, "They're the only two who haven't been cleared in some way."
The party, including Hannah, travels back to the parlour, where they light several of the candles that had been extinguished before. Jessica and Victoria are forced to the side of the room farthest from the hallway, while the others sit on the opposite end.
"Now, we either wait for a confession, or for one of them to die," Tristan says, "The one left alive will have had to of killed the other."
Victoria and Jessica look nervously to each other, but before either can say a word, another gust of wind pushes the window open, and once again, the candles die out, leaving the group in complete darkness. A thud is heard, followed by Victoria's frantic cries for help, "The killer has me! Help! I can see their face! It's---" Victoria's frenzied screams are cut short by 'death'. This time, it is Francine who returns light to the room. Al four of the surviving players are on the same side of the room, as Jessica and Victoria lay 'dead' on the other end of the large parlour.
"Is doesn't make any sense," Andrew begins, "Each of us have been cleared. It's been proven that we're all innocent...is it possible that their's someone else in the house?"
Francine runs out of the room. "Where is she going?" Tristan calls out. Hannah, Tristan and Andrew follow her out into the hallway. The hallways is barely lit, the only light coming from the parlour room candles. As the group walks deeper into the house, the darker it becomes.
"Is everybody still here?" Andrew says, after a long silence.No one answers him. Andrew feels someone grab his shirt, he jerks away violently, and runs back towards the fading candle light. He scurries into the parlour, and grabs a candle. He returns to the hall, bearing light, and discover's Tristan's 'body' in the hallway.
"That must mean..." Andrew swings around, to see Francine stand near the place where Kevin was killed. She is holding the inventory list, and the closet is wide open, all of the weapons scattered on the floor.
"He miscounted," she says, referring to Kevin, "There's a knife missing from the closet."
Andrew walks ever closer, "This means...." Andrew twists around, the light of the candle exposing a knife wielding Hannah. She smiles, and walks menacingly towards the two survivers. Before she can make her move, Chris bursts through the front door, dressed as a police chief. Two interns follow, and manage to disarm Hannah.
"Congradulations on solving the murder, and winning invincibility," he says to Francine and Andrew. He picks up the knife Hannah was holding, and flexes the blade, "Haha, it was rubber."
The 'murdered' castmates emerge, and congradulate the two. Francine and Andrew smile briefly to each other, before turning away, both blushing.
"Alright, everyone else is fair game, so meet at the stage in ten for your ceremony, dudes," Chris strokes his fake moustache.
"Crap...Who are we suppose to vote off?" Kevin says, looking at the others.
Shannon shrugs, "I don't know, it'll probably be pretty random, tonight..."
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
"Congradulations to our big winners, Francine and Andrew," Chris claps, "Now, under your seats, you'll find your voting devices. Cast your vote for the player you want eliminated. If you do not receive a Gilded Chris award, you must walk the Red Carpet of Shame, to catch the Lame-O-Sine, and leave. Fo' ever," the cast picks up their voting devices, and moments later, a machine prints out a piece of paper. Chris takes it, and reads, "The votes have been cast. The first awards go to Andrew and Francine."
Two awards are flung out into the bleachers, to the two invincible players. Andrew gives a thumbs up to Francine, who merely yawns in return.
"The next Gilded Chris goes to......Hannah! Next is Kevin, and Shannon. Victoria is also safe," Chris tosses out awards to the safe contestants, as the last three await their fate, "Only three nominees left," Chris picks up an award, "This one goes to.....Tristan!"
Edward and Jessica smile at each other nervously, as they shake in their seats, unsure of their own safety.
--Confessional-- "I voted for Edward, because, quite frankly, he was a jerk in the last challenge," Jessica sanitizes her hands, reluctantly. --Confessional--
--Confessional-- Edward looks saddened, "Yeah...the only reason I voted for Jessica was because I heard from Francine that she was the one who broke the mirror. I'm trying to be a nicer guy, so I don't wanna be hanging around violent people..." --Confessional--
Chris smiles sadistically, "Now it is time....the final Chris goes to......................."
"Edward," Chris lobs the award, which smacks Edward in the chin, "Jessica, time to go!"
Jessica sighs, and slumps her shoulders. Shannon starts to get up, but before she can make it down the bleachers, Jessica is already at the Lame-O-Sine. Jessica opens the door, climbs in, and departs.
--Confessional-- "I had to eliminate Jessica," Hannah says quietly, in the confessional, "I can't be competing for Shannon's attention when I'm trying to rope her into my soon-to-be alliance, and Jessica was definately hogging most of Shannon's attention." --Confessional--
"Well, that was a bit of a shocker," Chris says, "Another castmate rides home in the Lame-O-Sine! How will this affect Shannon? Will Andrew and Francine rekindle their old flame?"
"Dude, we can hear you!" Francine and Andrew call out, simultaneously. They look at each other awkwardly.
Chris continues, "Will Edward succeed in becoming a nicer guy? Find out next time, on Total.....Drama.....Action!"
Chapter Ten: "Aliens: Ripoff"
--Confessional-- Victoria, looking quite irritated, enters the confessional make-up room, "No one here takes me seriously, and I'm fed up with it. I may not be the most perceptive contestant, but I'm not the idiot of the group, either. I know I can be a little scatter-brained, but I'm a threat! And today, I'm finally going to prove it!" Victoria looks confidently into the mirror, "But, maybe it's not so bad if they think I'm stupid..," Victoria rubs her chin in thought, "If I keep letting them underestimate me, I could easily slip into the finals. And besides, it's not like I'm pretending to be someone I'm not...It's settled. From here on, 'Victoria' will become synonymous with 'victory'." --Confessional--
Victoria exits the confessional, and meanders over to the Craft Services Tent, where the remaining competitors are eating breakfast.
"Where was you at?" Edward asks, with a mouthful of bran flakes.
Victoria sits down in front of a bowl of questionable soup, "Using the confessional," Victoria picks up a nearby fork, and plunges it into the slop, only for the metal to raipdly dissolve. Victoria, as well as the other teens, looks extremely concerned. Edward leans to the side, and spits out his cereal, in terror.
Chef Hatchet grabs the dish, "So that's where my bowl of battery acid went," he swaps the bowl with a plate of eggs.
"Why do you have a bowl of battery acid?" Hannah glances at her own breakfast in concern.
"Why don't you shut up and mind your own dang business before I go get my whoopin' spoon?" Chef growls, before making his return to the shadowy kitchen from wence he came.
Tristan nudges Andrew, and points to Francine.
--Confessional-- "I told Andrew I would try and help him get back with his old flame," Tristan digs dirt from out from underneath his fingernails, and glances at them, "Lucky him. I'm good at the match making." --Confessional--
Tristan stands up, and falls back down, slamming his head against Andrew's chest, "Whoa! That was a close one! I could have been seriously hurt, if it wasn't for your finely toned abs, dude," Francine, as well as everyone else, immediately looks at the spectacle. Tristan gives Andrew a thumbs up, and lifts Andrew's shirt up, "Boy, would you look at that! Gee, Andrew, you must have your pick o' the ladies back in Hicktown, Alabama. Any of you ladies would be lucky to have this, especially if you happen to be blonde, and tall, and your name starts with the letter 'f'," Tristan pulls Andrew's shirt back down, and continues eating his breakfast, as if nothing happened.
--Confessional-- "Yeah, he can thank me later," Tristan leans back, and places his hands behind his head. --Confessional--
--Confessional-- "I'm not really sure what just happened," Andrew looks blankly into the camera, "But I'm pretty sure that, no matter how much blunt force truama I suffer, I'll never be able to forget it..." --Confessional--
Chris enters the tent, followed by several interns. The interns are dressed as tall, black monsters, with elongated skulls, spiny backs, long arms and powerful legs. They are pushing a rack of paintball guns. Chris smiles his trademark slimy smile, "Enjoying your brekkie, I see?"
"You're kidding," Tristan raises his eyebrow, and tilts his bowl so that Chris can see the contents inside.
"Yeah, you're right, I don't care if you're enjoying it or not," Chris smirks, "Now, for your challenge today,"
Francine interrupts Chris, with gusto, "Alien movies! Oh, how very darling! A group of strangers, depending on each other to fight off an intergalactic threat, not knowing who will make it home! Oh, truly it is a magical genre," Francine smiles gleefully.
"See what happens when you interrupt me, again," Chris scowls at the entire cast, "Now, Miss Rude is correct, it's alien movie week! You'll all be playing futuristic marines trapped on an alien planet. Our gaggle of interns will be playing aliens, and it's their job to pick you guys off. In order to win invincibility, you'll have to make your way through a dilapidated power station, and reach the awaiting ship that will carry you off to safety. Whoever can reach the ship without being brutally dismembered by the aliens, will win invincibility. If no one makes it home free, then everyone will be up for elimination!" Chris takes an armful of paintball guns off the rack, and begins handing them out, "These paintball guns will be your only protection against the interns--I mean, aliens. Good luck to you all! The challenge begins once everyone enters lot nine hundred."
Kevin frowns, "This challenge sounds like a rip-off of that one movie....what's it called, again?"
The eight teens meander to the lot. Upon opening the doors, they are greeted by an elaborate set up of long metallic hallways, floors made of metal grates, and very few lights.
"So....split up, or stay together?" Edward holds his weapon tightly to his chest, visibly irked by the landscape before him. Everyone except Kevin walks off, leaving him to himself. Edward furrows his brow, and sticks up his middle finger at the contestants who left him. Kevin pushes his finger down.
"C'mon, man. Maybe the two of us can make it to the ship together, and win invincibility on our own?" Kevin smiles, trying to cheer his companion up.
Edward sighs, and follows up with a smile and a shrug, "Yeah, why not." Edward and Kevin walk down the hallway, and make a left, while the other five head straight.
Tristan jabs Andrew with his elbow, "Hey, bro, want me to talk to Francine for you?"
Andrew winces at the suggestion, but quickly covers it up with a smile, "No, thanks. I appreciate it, Tristan. I think this is something I have to do myself, though," Andrew taps Francine on the shoulder, "Can I talk to you for a second?"
Francine and Andrew stop in the hallway, while Shannon, Victoria and Hannah continue walking. Tristan waits for Andrew and Francine a few yards away.
"Look, Francine....I still really like you," Andrew rubs his arm nervously, "Could you please...give me another chance?"
Francine sighs, and frowns, "Andrew...I didn't break up with you because you sang a song with another girl's name in the lyrics. Our relationship was just...so physically that I...felt smothered, I guess. All we did was kiss, and my feelings went deeper than that. I wasn't sure how to tell you, because I honestly didn't want to hurt you," Francine looks at Andrew sheepishly, and Andrew nods silently for her to continue, "I felt trapped, and I used any excuse I could find to get out," Francine sighs.
Andrew nods, and begins walking towards Tristan, "It's fine, I understand."
Francine takes him by the arm, "Wait! There's something else," Andrew turns to face her, and at the end of the hallway, Hannah steps out, but quickly moves back behind a wall, so as not to be seen. Francine continues, "I still really like you, too...even if you did shoot stuff at me out of a cannon, and fight with me, kung-fu style...but, that's besides the point! I'd be willing to give our relationship another chance, on one condition. Can we try to be a little less physical? At least, not all the time?"
Andrew smiles, and embraces his girl, "Of course!" The two teens hug, as Tristan watches happily, and Hannah watches suspiciously.
--Confessional-- "I didn't want to do another season on this show," Hannah sighs in the confessional, "After season one, I just want to go home. I can't quit...thanks to Chris and his contracts, so I guess I might as well try to win this thing. That'll be hard, if those three stay together. I'm sure they won't vote each other out," Hannah thinks for a moment, "I don't have to break them up....I don't want that on my soul. So, instead, all I have to do, is convince the others to get rid of two of them, at least. The other should be so forlorn, all the competetive drive will drain out of them. But, how do I get the others to vote with me?" --Confessional--
Andrew struts joyously over to an awaiting Tristan, who immediately high-fives him. Tristan smiles happily, and says, "Way to go, dude! I bet the three of us can win this challenge, too! Look, you make sure this hallway is clear, I've got something I want to tell your ladyfriend," Tristan points down the hallway in question, and Andrew nods. Tristan jogs over to Francine, who is slowly making her way down the hall, "Hey, I just want to say...thanks for taking him back. Andrew's a good guy, and it's obvious to me that he really cares about you, so..." Tristan puts his arms out, and hugs Francine. Hannah's eyes leap open.
--Confessional-- "How very convieniant! If I can just get the others to think those two are having an affair behind Andrew's back, and have them quietly vote the two of them off, I'll be that much closer to getting off this wretched show. I have to make sure Andrew doesn't get word of this, though...I'm not out to hurt anyone. I just want to go home, and buy a place away from all the noise!" Hannah folds her arms, and scoffs. --Confessional--
Edward and Kevin round a corner, and, lurking in the distant darkness of the end of the hallway, they sport a horde of aliens. One of the aliens looks in their direction, and begins charging. Soon, the rest of the nest follows.
"Kev, this is it! We can't possibly outrun them! We've got to fight 'em off!" Edward raises his weapon, and begins firing into the sea of aliens. Edward unleashes a flurry of paintballs, taking out the first row. However, a new wave quickly replaces it. Kevin attempts to fire, but his gun jams.
"Gah! It's jammed! I can't shoot!" Kevin begins fiddling with his weapon, trying to unjam it.
Edward takes Kevin by the shirt, and pushes him towards the way they had come through, "Go on! I'll hold them off as long as I can!"
"You won't make it!" Kevin attempts to reason with his friend, but Edward sternly declines.
"I know. Look, you're my only close friend here. You helped me, when no one else would," Edward continues firing, the blast of paintballs driving his notion home to Kevin, "The least I can do is help you win a challenge or two. Now, go!"
--Confessional-- "Edward's speech really reminded me of Gerald, again. It seems like both gave up their chance at winning for me," Kevin sighs. --Confessional--
Kevin nods, and runs back down the hallway. Edward's eyes squint, as the aliens grow closer. He glances briefly at his gun, "It's getting lighter," he whispers.
Kevin sputters, and stumbles down the various hallways, until he runs into Shannon, Hannah and Victoria.
"Where's Edward?" Shannon asks, concerned. In the distance, Edward's frantic screams become increasingly more audible, "Oh...," Shannon winces.
"C'mon, we better move! If those screams are coming from where I thnk they are, those aliens aren't that far away. They'll probably advance in a sweeping pattern, which means we need to head left, and down this way, so we can get far enough away that we're off their radar," Victoria points to the direction she was referring to, and motions for the others to follow. Instead, Kevin and Hannah burst out laughing.
"Sounds to me like you've been watching too many movies," Hannah wipes a tear away, and begins walking in the opposite direction. Kevin follows close behind. Victoria looks at Shannon, who hesitates, but finally chooses to go with Hannah and Kevin. Victoria rolls her eyes.
--Confessional-- "See what I mean? No one takes me seriously. I just gave a completely rational suggestion, and what do they do?" Victoria vents in the confessional, as a piece of cotton fuzz floats by, "They do the exact--Ah! A fly!" Victoria swats at the cotton, and ends up falling backwards in her seat. --Confessional--
Victoria continues down her path, and several minutes later, she hears the sound of paintball guns beging fired, followed shortly by three screams. She pauses, for a moment, closing her eyes, before continuing.
Andrew, Francine and Tristan stumble upon a heap of paint-splattered aliens, and several abandoned paintball guns. "Looks like some of our friends weren't so lucky," Tristan kneels, and taps the barrel of one of the guns, "It's sizzlin' hot. They went down with a fight," he pulls the trigger, "It's empty, too. This must have been their last stand."
Just as Tristan begins standing back up, and alien leaps from the shadows, and pins him to the floor, leaving him unable to reach his paintball gun. Andrew open fires on the beast, but three more aliens emerge out of the shadows, and drag a struggling Tristan away. Francine aims, and prepares to fire, but Andrew grabs her hand, "Save your ammo, we've got to move!" Andrew leads Francine down an open hallway, as the aliens begin giving chase.
--Confessional-- "It felt so invigorating to run away from danger like that. I'm serious, sometimes these challenges get so intense, I almost forget everything is just part of a game!" Francine declares happily, wiping her brow free of sweat. --Confessional--
Andrew and Francine manage to gain a moderate amount of distance over the aliens, and come to the end of the hallway, where they promptly crash into Victoria.
"Ouch! Watch it, ya guys!" Victoria rubs her head, and stands back up.
"No time for anger, those things are on our tail. Judging by the collection of empty guns we saw, the three of us are all that's left!" Andrew helps Francine to her feet, and picks up their dropped weapons, handing them out to the girls.
"Yeah, I figured, but whe---Look! Do you see it?!" Victoria jumps, and frantically points at the awaiting ship, which in reality is just Chef's plane with a few alterations, in the distance, "All we have to do is make it to the docking bay, and get on the ship, and we're all home free!" Victoria leads the rush to the ship, and Andrew opens up the door. The three board, exactly as the aliens begin flooding out of the hall.
Chef turns to the three remaining troopers, "We gotta prep for launch, can't be leaving yet. And, if those aliens get ahold of the ship, ya'll gonna die," Chef chuckles.
"Gah! What the crap, Chris? You couldn't make it easy, could you?" Francine calls out in severe frustration, as the aliens begin encircling the ship. Andrew takes Francine's gun, as well as his own, and opens up the door.
"What are you doing!? Get back in here!" Francine reaches out to him, but Andrew closes the door.
"Just buying some time," he winks. Andrew turns to the aliens, and begins riddling them with paintballs.
"Just one more minute, and we should be good to fly," Chef turns to Francine and Victoria, "So ya'll buckle up."
Andrew continues mowing down alien interns with furious determination, but their numbers are great, and they begin closing in on him. Slowly, but surely, the aliens close the gap. One of his paintball guns ceases to fire, "Son of a gun!" Andrew discards the useless weapon, and begins placing his shots more carefully, waiting for the aliens to get up close and personal before blasting them.
"We're takin' off!" Chef calls out over the roar of the starting engine. Francine, as well as Victoria bang desperately on the ship's window, calling for Andrew to grba hold of the ship. He turns to them, and in that second, is jumped by and alien. Several others dogpile ontop of him, sealing his ultimate fate. The ship goes airborn, and lands about twenty feet away.
"Awesome job, guys!" Chris randomly walks out of an undisclosed location to great the challenge winners. The losing contestants, covered in alien slime, begin shuffling out, as well. The iterns remove their alien costumes, and release Andrew, "Our winners are Francine, and surprisingly, Victoria! The rest of you are up for elimination, so meet back at the stage for your ceremony, in one hour!"
Francine and Victoria exit the plane, and the contestants begin dispersing. Hannah shuffles up next to Shannon, "Hey, Shannon, I've got terrible news..."
"What news?" Victoria, who was close by, walks closer to the other two girls.
"Victoria! I'm glad you're here, I was going to tell you next," Hannah pulls the two into a huddle, "You both know Francine and Andrew are back together, yeah?" The two nod, showing they are aware, "Well, you know Tristan is Andrew's best friend on the show, yes?" The two nod in confirmation, again, "Well, I personally witnessed, Francine and Tristan having an affair, right under Andrew's nose!"
Victoria gasps, "No way! Gah, that is so low of Tristan, having an affair with his best friend's girlfriend! And Francine! Ah! I need to go cool off!" Victoria angrily storms away, in the direction of the stage.
"I don't know...are you sure about what you saw?" Shannon asks, nervously, "They don't seem like the kind of people who would betray someone like that.."
"Did Wendy seem like the kind of person who would betray?" Hannah retorts. Shannon's eyes fill with white-hot tears, and she nods, "Okay, I believe you..." Shannon departs, heading the same way that Victoria went seconds before. Hannah smiles pleasantly, and spies Kevin.
"Hey, Kevin! I need to talk to you!"
--Confessional-- "Hannah came to me, saying Tristan and Francine are playing around under Andrew's nose. Well, I don't buy a word. Hannah's always seemed sneaky to me, and I told her so. I told her, 'no way I'm voting for either of them, so good day to you, ma'am'," Kevin folds his arms sternly. --Confessional--
--Confessional-- Hannah shakes her head, and wags her finger, "Wrong answer, Kevin." --Confessional--
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
"Welcome, kiddies! Time for another thrilling Gilded Chris Ceremony of awesomeness!" Chris announces into his microphone, as the majority of the cast groans and rolls their eyes, "Okay, okay. Under you seats, blah, blah, vote, blah, blah, eliminated, blah, never come back, yadda, yadda. Let's get this over with."
The cast picks up their voting devices, and uses them for their designated purpose.
"Alrighty, vote dhas been cast. Our first to Gilded Chris awards go to our winners! Congrats, ladies," Chris tosses two awards out to Francine and Victoria.
"Next, Edward, Hannah, Andrew and Shannon are safe!" Chris has four more awards thrown out, "Leaving Tristan and Kevin as tonight's bottom two! Who's it gunna be, folks?"
Tristan turns to Kevin, and pats him sympathetically on the shoulder, "You had a good run, dude. Made it a lot farther than I thought you would."
Kevin pushes Tristan's hand away, "Look, I need to tell you something, I didn't get a chance before the--"
"SHHHH!" No talking. Now, the final award. It goes to............................."
"Tristan," Chris wings the last award at the jock, who ducks, causing the award to hit Edward, who was sitting behind Tristan, in the groin.
"Hey, everyone! Listen, I need to tell you that--" Kevin stands up, and begins shouting, but two interns grab him, covering his mouth, and drag him down the Red Carpet of Shame, and finally hurl him into the Lame-O-Sine.
"Well, that was a weird elimination. Anyway, tune in next time, for more Total......Drama.....Action!"
--Confessional-- "Oh, man....What am I goin' to do, now? I don't have any other great friends here....now that Kevin's gone, I'm alone...." Edward sits sadly by himself in the confessional, and sighs, deeply. He stands up and, shoulders stooped, quietly leaves the confessional --Confessional--
--Confessional-- "Yeah, I decided it was too dangerous to let Kevin survive this ceremony. He could seriously have jeopardized my entire plan. I managed to convince Victoria and Shannon that Kevin knew all along about the affair, and was letting it happen. To say the least, they were convinced," Hannah yawns, and exits the confessional. --Confessional--
Chapter Eleven: "The Aftermath II - Really Jacked Up Stuff Goes Down, Ya'll"
The Aftermath logo flashes, and a small clip show of the eliminations of Parker, Wendy, David, Jessica and Kevin play. Morgan and Nicole still occupy the small couch, complete with a small coffee table before it. On the right hand, one of the larger couches now holds Zuma, Quinn, Reese and Gerald. The top row holds Charlie, Quinn, Laura, Gerald and Rachael. The bottom row has Reese, Zuma and Steven seated next to one another.
Morgan, who has his feet relaxed across the coffee table, begins the show, enthusiastically, "Hey, people! Welcome back to the Aftermath show!!" Nicole gives him a somewhat threatening smile.
"Morgan, dear...," she slaps him across the face, "Feet off the table."
Whimpering in defeat, the immasculated co-host silently recoils his feet from the table, as Nicole pushes the show onward, "Sorry its been so long since we've seen all of you! We had a few minor technical difficulties, but they're all fixed and perky-fundifferously-up-and-running!"
"A coffee machine malfunctioning is serious enough qualify as a 'technical difficulty' and is cause for shutting production down for two months?" Gerald asks, obviously in disbelief, as well as annoyed with the hosts' incompetence.
Nicole's eye twitches, as her head swirls to face Gerald, "I need my fix....," she rapidly pulls out a cup of coffee from under the table, and consumes its content in record time. Gerald's expression is one of shock and awe.
"Why did you keep that under the table, instead of on it? Isn't that what a coffee table is for?" Rachael sneers, as is her custom.
Nicole looks unimpressed, "Baby...," she glances to Charlie, who nods and snaps his fingers. Immediately, two thuggish looking brutes appear in the aisles, and take a seat in the front row, glowering at Rachael.
"Hehehehe...," the snobbish Rachael smiles in terror, "Everyone's different..."
"Before all else, we have a message from the producers!" Morgan pulls a letter out from the front of his pants.
"Eww..," the Peanut Gallery says in unison.
"Ah, shut up. Anyway, ya'll know how there was that three way tie for winner last season? The producers have decided who gets third, second and who technically won!" Morgan unfolds the note, and begins, "Quinn, they're placing you in third, because you had already been eliminated before reaching the finals."
Quinn folds her arms, and scoffs.
"Steven, bud, you get second, because you didn't make it to season two. Reese, that means you won!" Morgan throws his hands up, as everyone, except Quinn, cheers for Reese.
"Do I get the money, too?" Reese asks, giddy.
"Nope, all you get is the title of winner. The winner who won nothing," Morgan laughs, as Reese slumps back in his seat.
Nicole snatches the note, "It also says Charlie will be granted seventh place, do to already having an elimination, while you, Morgan, get sixth place." Morgan and Charlie grumble, reminded of their loss.
"Okay, everyone, I don't want to here any complaining about who won, or I'll bring the guards back out here. The ones with the really painful handcuffs," Nicole glares at Quinn, Steven, who are sulking over their newly discovered loss, as well as Charlie and her co-host.
"Moving on, let's check in with Zuma, Quinn, Reese and Gerald, to see how life on the other side of the small screen has been," Morgan notices Nicole's growing monopoly of the show, and attempts to quiet an outburst.
Nicole nods cheerfully in agreement, "Good idea, Morg!"
"That makes me sound like an alien," Morgan appears unsure of what to do, in the face of his new nickname.
Ignoring her co-host, Nicole announces, "She was a fan-favorite, and there was quite a bit of backlash over her early departure, Zuma! Zuma, how has life been since returning to regular life?"
Zuma shrugs, "Not great. My band split up, over creative differences about a month ago."
"I believe we have a clip of that!" Morgan magically pulls a remote out of an undisclosed location, and starts a clip.
"Wait, how could you possibly have a clip of---" Zuma objects, but is silenced by a shushing Reese.
"Shush....the box wishes to speak...," Reese gazes obediantly and wide-eyed at the video monitor, as Zuma glances at him, weirded out.
The monitor begins playing the clip, which opens with Zuma and her band in a small ice cream parlor. The band consists of Zuma herself, as well as a grungy looking fellow with shaggy hair and a goatee, in a flannel jacket, jeans ripped at the knee, and converse sneakers. There is also a tough looking, yet skinny young man with long red hair, wearing a sleeveless undershirt, red bandana, kilt, and Nike basketball shoes. Finally, there's a big-lipped boy, with sunglasses, multiple scarves which are all different colors, an open t-shirt, a cowboy hat, skinny jeans and cowboy boots. An employee of the shop brings a tray of milkshakes to their table.
"Here's your milkshakes, I hope you enjoy! Thank's for choosing Wacky Carl's Ice Cream Shack and Turpentine Retailer for all your ice cream and turpentine related needs!"
The grungy kid takes a sip of his milkshake, which is a bright pink color. He spits it out, into the face of the boy with the cowboy hat.
"Hey man, what's your damage?" the cowboy hat guy snarls as he wipes pink shake off his scarves.
"Dude...this like, tastes like stawberry twist...I specifically ordered passion fruit....dude," the grungy guy whines in monotone.
"OOOWW! Well, don't be taking it out on me, bro!" a swift retort from the cowboy hat man.
"Guys, you're embarassing me..." Zuma hides her face behind her glass.
"He started it! YE-YAH!" the man in the cowboy hat quite literally screams in sing-song.
The grungy guy picks up his instrument, and gets ready to leave, "Whoa, man....this is getting like, way out of control...I can't work under these conditions...I'm out of the band, man..,"
"Kyle, wait! We can get you another shake!" Zuma calls after him.
"Fine! I'm out too! I'mma start my own band!" the guy in the cowboy hat walks out, as well.
"Stefan! No!" Zuma now heads in the direction of Stefan. She stops, and sighs, and looks at the boy in the kilt and bandana, "Well William, I guess we're a duet..."
"Nah, forget that...I think I'll start my own band, too...I met this guy in a top hat, he has serious vision....Also, I think I'll change my name to something cooler...like, Anvil Posie. Sorry, Zuma...there's just not nearly enough weapons or flowers in this band for me."
The clips ends with Zuma sighing, as a small child pegs her with a bucket of turpentine.
The Aftermath studio is totally silent, except for the muffled snickers of Morgan.
"How humiliating. Moving on!" Nicole perks up, "Quinn?"
"I've fully invested my life savings in---" Quinn is cut off.
"That's wonderful! Reese, what about you?" Nicole leaves Quinn irritated and silent.
"I'm currently starring in a live-action remake of The Fox and the Hound. I play Big Mama," Reese smiles proudly, as his peers clap awkwardly.
"Gerald?" Nicole asks, growing impatient.
"I've been going to therapy a few times a month, and my condition has really gotten better! I've even started to make some new friends, in my neighborhood," Gerald smiles genuinely, happy with his own progress.
"Sounds like a big step up from the kid who jammed pine needles into his hands last season," Morgan says bluntly, as Gerald lowers his head in shame and embarassment.
"Well, finally that's over with. Let's bring out our newly evicted contestants! Parker, Wendy, David, Jessica and Kevin! C'mon out!" Nicole points offstage, and quickly, the five contestants called upon emerge, and take a seat on the empty couch.
"Parker, we'll start with you, dude. Do you hold Tristan's actions against him?" Morgan reads from a pre-written index card.
"No, not really. He wasn't out to bash me. I can't really hold it against him, it was the way he was raised," Parker crosses his arms, and leans back against the couch's padded back rest, "I've encountered a lot more insensitive people, in the year since my coming out."
"It's only been a year? Doesn't that mean you came out for the first time on the show last season?" Steven asks, curious.
"Yes, that is correct. I think it helped that you all were so supportive of me, when I admitted it during that challenge. Thanks, guys," Parker half-smiles, not used to being grateful in public. Reese randomly runs over, hugs him, and sprints back to his seat. Parker looks extremely confused.
Laura says from the Peanut Gallery, "I'm happy that our support helped you out, Parker. You're a good guy, and I'm sure you'll find....a good guy of your own," Laura tries to word her sentence carefully.
Charlie leans over and shouts, "Yeah! You go bag a good one, tiger!"
Parker stares wide-eyed at the others, "....You people are weird..."
"Sounds like our cue to move on! Wendy, how does it feel being the most hated contestant?" Nicole smiles cheek-to-cheek.
"Um...I'd like to think people can see where I'm coming from...," Wendy stares at the ground, as she speaks.
"It says on the show's website that the producers found you fairly normal, and labelled you as such...seems like a mistake to me," Morgan scoffs, "Steve-O, how do you feel about all this?"
Steven sighs, "She is a normal girl. She makes mistakes, just like everyone else. Normal does not equal perfect....I...I can forgive her for what she did, but...I think I'll be staying single for a while," Steven rests his head in the palm of his hand, and closes his eyes, as Zuma holds him, sympathetically. Wendy clearly looks ashamed of herself.
"Thank you...for forgiving me," she says, as tears quietly begin forming in her eyes.
"I think we've heard enough about this. David, I think it's your turn. You made it all the way to the merge, and them got kicked off. How have you handled your elimination?" Morgan tries to move things along, as Wendy and Steven commence crying, silently, on opposite sides of the studio.
"Um," David is slightly distracted by Wendy and Steven, but continues as best he can, "I took it really hard...I still am. I feel like a failure, in so many ways..."
"You've managed to fend off your laziness since your elimination?" Nicole asks.
"Yeah, I've been keeping myself busy doing whatever I can around town, to avoid a lethargy relapse...but the feeling of failing still hits me hard, in the back of my mind," David sighs, and lowers his head.
"This is depressing!" Nicole wails, "Somebody! Anybody, give us some good news!"
"I've been doing pretty good," Jessica inserts herself into the commotion, "My aunt won the lottery, and used some of her winning to set up an OCD research facility in my town. They've been helping my deal with my affliction, and I've been a lot happier, for real," Jessica smiles, and throws the small bottle of hand sanitizer she always carries with her into the audience. It strikes one of the thuggish men from before, rendering him unconscious.
"Uncle Billy!" Charlie leaps up from his seat, and rushes offstage, as interns carry the man away. The other thug departs, crying, "He only had two more days 'til retirement! You fiend!"
Jessica stands, mouth gaping. Parker and David help lead her offstage, as the studio once again falls silent in the wake of an improbable event.
"....Kevin...yo, your turn...," Morgan blankly stares in disbelief.
"I've been really pissed," Kevin scowls, "Hannah tried to break up Frandrew, and I tried to stop. And what happened? Everyone voted me off. And to make it worse, those goons carried me away before I could even tell anyone what I saw. They probably don't even miss me...," Kevin grunts, and walks off stage, "I need to get out of here..." Gerald hops down from his seat, and charges across the stage after Kevin.
"Gee...Well, I guess that's all the time we have for today," Nicole says, concerned, "Tune in next time, to see the next person to take the walk of shame. We'll be back with another Aftermath, as soon as we can, where we can hopefully work out all this unfixed problems..."
The camera zooms out, and the credits play, ending the show.
Chapter Twelve: "Guns N' Posers"
-Confessional-- "I still can't believe Kevin is gone...Who would vote off Kevin?" Edward sighs, and then blushes, "Well...I voted for him like, three times in season one....b-but that's not the point! Poor guy....he only made it three places farther than last time..," Edward wipes his eyes, and steps out of the confessional. -Confessional--
"Finally! I've been waiting for two hours! What were you even doing in there?" Tristan cringes, "On second thought, keep it to yourself, bro."
Chris calmly walks on set, "G'morning, final seven! For your challenge today--" Chris's megaphone is swiped by Edward.
"Attention everyone!" Edward's voice booms throughout the film lot, as the other contestants look on in curiousity, "I hereby forsake my former ways, in commemoration of my pal, Kevin! Let it be known, that Edward P. Rodgers is a...pretty nice guy!" a vein bulges in Edward's neck, as his grabs the frowning face patch on his shirt, and rips it off, exposing his pale, grotesque man-cleavage. Victoria vomits on the spot, and the others look on in disgust. Shannon stares at the mess, nervously, trying not to reach for her fanny pack cleaning kit.
-Confessional- "As gross as it was to see someone vomit at my feet," Shannon's eye twitches, "It was super hard to fight back my natural instinct to clean it up...," Shannon's stomach gurgles, and she holds her mouth, "Even if it was really, really gross..." -Confessional--
Chris smacks Edward on the back of his head, "First, I don't think we can show those on televison," Chris produces a black, cardboard bar, and hands it to Edward to cover his chest, "They'd probably kill our ratings, anyway. Secondly, since you snatched my megaphone, you're out of today's challenge. Do it again, and you're out of the game," Chris shoved Edward to the ground, "The rest of you...remember how awesome the Eighties were?"
"I don't think any of us were alive...but from what I can tell from watching VH1, it was a time of ugly fashion, giant hair, rampant drug use, and groundbreaking, yet dysfunctional, rock and pop bands," Hannah shudders.
"Exactly! You're going to recreate all of those elements! Today's challenge is the rockumentary! The six of you who are still competing will form a faux rock band, and slowly advance through the trials and tribulations a real eighties rocker conquered...or fell victim to! At the end of each part of the rockumentary, narrated by Edward, since he has nothing better to do, whoever had the worst preformance will be axed from the band! Unfortunately, our legal department said we weren't allowed to use real axes, so you'll just be out of the challenge," the contestants give a sigh of relief.
"Hey...where's Chef at?" Victoria looks in all directions, "Some qualified cook served us breakfast."
"Chef is on temporary leave, to host his own reality mini-series at some rinky-dink compound with a bunch of misfits. You know, like you guys, only dangerous-er."
"Is that a word?" Francine questions.
"Your lot's right over there!" Chris ignores her, and directs the cast to their filming destination. Inside the lot, the cast finds trunks of shiny spandex, hairspray, bandanas, platform shoes, and other eighties fashion wonders.
Francine settles for a neon orange spandex jumpsuit with multiple fringes of cloths hanging from each arm, While Victoria wears a white blouse, purple jeans, high heels, and bangles. Shannon's hair is puffed and teased, as her black leather jacket sleeves hang a little too long, covering her hands, partially, her eyes are shielded by star-shaped glasses, which are bejeweled by many a rhine-stone. Hannah favors a large top hat, and fuzzy black haired wig. Tristan paints his face with white, black, and silver makeup, as he straps on plastic armor and platfrom shoes. Andrew ties a faded red bandana over his forehead, and completes his outfit with a kilt, high-top shoes, and sleeveless undershirt.
"Okay, Edward, just read from the script, and everything should run smoothly. I'll be waiting on the sidelines with the other judges," Chris tosses a script to Edward, who now has a smiley-face patch sewn in place of the frowning one. The six contestants take their places on the stage, and Edward begins, in a deep, dramatic voice.
"The year was nineteen eighty. After the mellow years of hippie pop and love-fueled music...one band decided it was time...for a change. Formed in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Dead Daisies was about to change the world. The band's original lineup consisted of Slammin' Shannon on bass," Shannon groans at her stage name, "Vikki Launder on keyboard, Hannah Solo on lead guitar, Francinder on rhythm guitar" the other girls groan at their horrid stage names, following Shannon's example, "Tris Lizard on drums and Anvil Rose on lead vocals." Unlike their female compadres, the men high-five in approval.
The scene cuts to the confessional, which has been dressed up as an interview room. In the corner of the screen, a small caption reads "ANVIL ROSE MTV INTERVIEW 1981". Andrew, dressed in his rock garb, speaks, "Yeah, so we was in Halifax, right? I look to Tris, an' I says, hey, let's join a band, then," Andrew speaks with a raspy British accent.
"And so, in that instant, Dead Daisies was formed. The band enjoyed immediate success, as their debut album, 'Appetite for Total Decimation of Buildings And Nature Alike', changed music forever.
Back in the interview room, Hannah, now holding a large python, has taken Andrew's place, "We all got together, and these ideas just started pouring out, ya know? It was like, whoa....ya know? Just...whoa. So many ideas, man. Some of them were even like....dude. We knew it'd be big."
Edward continues, "Truly, Dead Daisies was the best thing to come out of Canada since Michael J. Fox. With pounding guitar riffs and pulsing drum solos, DD because an inspiration for an entire generation of bored Canadian children between the marketing ages of seventeen to twenty-six."
Now sitting in the interview room is Francine, lollypop clenched between her teeth, "Our first couple a' gigs were pretty demandin'. They was mostly these gnarly little dance clubs, playin' for chump change," Francine pops the lolly from between her lipstick coated lips, "The crowd would surely let you know if they wasn't enjoying your set. They'd throw these like, huge paper Dixie cups on stage," Francine illustrates the size of the cups with her hands, "Better pray to the big man upstairs you don't take a partially full Dixie cup to the temple. It's such a distraction."
"I remember this one show, waaaaay out in the Yukon. It was like, minus ten degrees outside, and yoyos who hired us for the gig forgot that our contractual bowl of candy corn was suppose to have the white tips removed. We was grumblin', but we went on, yeah. SO we was into the second song of the show, and the stage starts sinkin' into the ground! Turns out it was too heavy. Ever since, we've refused to go on stage if the candy corn don't got them little white tips cut off," Tristan reclines in his interview chair, as a scantily-clad intern pours him a cup of cola. "Ah, nothin' beats name-brand root beer. Thanks, hot cakes," Tristan winks at the intern, who promptly kicks his chair over.
Shannon and Victoria was in the interview room at the same time. Victoria drinks a can of root beer, and then smashes the empty can against her forehead. "Wooo! Yeah! Rock n' roll!!" Victoria tips over in her chair, in a fit of laughter, while Shannon stares on awkwardly.
"Uh, she does that. A lot," Shannon looks to the side, as the camera cuts out.
"And thus, by the end of nineteen eighty-one, DD was ensured a place in history," Edward concludes, in his dramatic reading voice.
"Alright, that's the end of part one! Our judges will now choose the person or persons who did the crappiest, and take them out of the challenge! And you can never re-enter. Ever," Chris ushers in the judges, "These are legendary rock stars, whose identities will be kept secret from the viewing audience, per their request."
The judges enter, their faces blurred. "'Ello, 'ello," one of the judges says, his voice deepened and distorted, "Awright, you lot did a pre'y good job, if I do say so meself. If I'd have to 'liminated someone, it'd be a tie between that young bird," the man points to Shannon, "An' that un'," he points to Hannah.
Two interns drag the ladies away, and the second judge pulls out a pack of marshmallow Peeps, "'Ere you go, lad," the judge tosses the pack to Tristan, "You did right fine, you did."
"Okay, Edward, get going with Act II!" Chris places some flamboyant sunglasses on, tosses Edward a revised script, and exits with the judges.
Edward nods, and continues, "Hard times soon followed. Slammin' Shannon soon came into conflict with her fellow bandmates, and was soon excommunicated from the church of rock. One year later, Hannah Solo's contract expired. Tired of Anvil's growing ego and move towards more industrial rock, and indulgence in the riches of stardom, she opted out of the band. With two of the founding members gone, DD had reached its first record sales recession. Sales of CDs plummetted, as Anvil began to control the band's direction more and more. Tris developed a one-thousand dollar a day Peeps addiction, which left his blood thick with sugar, and his logic clouded by delicious marshmallow. He entered rehab six times between nineteen eighty-four and nineteen eighty-six."
"I don't have a problem, yo!" Tristan's eyes are popped wide open, and he jitters in his seat, "I can quit whenever I want, you dig?" Tristan pulls a Peep from his pocket, "I don't need you!" he snarls angrily at the candy, but, alas, his lips quiver, and his viciously devours the marshmallow fowl. Two security guards tackle him immediately.
"Spit it out! Spit it out, sir!" one guard puts Tristan in a choke-hold, while holding his hand out expectantly. The second guard punches Tristan in the stomach repeatedly until he coughs up the Peep.
"Tris needs to get his act together," Andrew scoffs in the interview room. "If that punk thinks the band is gunna come to a halt everytime he has a Peep relaspse, he's friggin' crazy."
The band sits in the interview room, together. "Hey, man, how come ya'll keep on me about my Peeps, but Vikki's allowed to binge all the root beer she wants?"
"Because I'm not strung out on marshmallow when I come on stage, like someone," Victoria snaps, and gargles down another can of root beer.
"I am not strung out on marshmallow when I play!" Tristan stands up, and confronts Victoria. Andrew stands between them, "Sit the heck down, Tris!"
"You've forgotten the music, Rose!" Francine stands, and tackles Andrew.
Chris steps in, "Okay, okay! That's enough of that!"
"Ow, babe, "Andrew cracks his back, as he stands back up.
"Oh! I'm sorry, honeybear!" Francine supports him, and kisses his shoulder.
"Blah blah blah, you're in love again. For now. Anyway, I'm getting tired of the rockumentary, and there's a hot tub with water jets waiting for me in my trailer, so why don't we just get this over with? Judges, choose your winner," Chris beckons to the judges, one last time.
"Well, I'mma be honest. Ain't there nothin' funny about Peeps. Me li'le sister loved Peeps, and then broke her arm in an unrelated incident," the judge sighs, as Tristan looks perplexed.
"And tyranical control of dah band ain't no way to run t'ings," the second judge says, disqualifying Andrew.
"How d'you expect us to let you win, when clearly, you ain't got nearly enough lipstick on?" The first judge wags a finger at Francine.
"But you're men, why would you wear...?" Francine stops midsentence, realizing the fruitless nature of her question.
"I'm supposin' that makes this little miss the winner, then!" The second judge declares. Both judges then randomly leave with no explanation, never to be seen again.
"Awkward," Chris states, "but effective! Victoria wins invincibility! Now, everyone else...be gone with you, to the stage to cast your votes for elimination!"
The teens leave. Francine and Andrew are walking together, holding hands and gazing up at the night sky. Tristan is eating from the box of Peeps he was given, while Victoria and Shannon eye Francine and Tristan.
"We should vote off Tristan, he's betraying his best friend on the show," Victoria whispers angrily to Shannon.
"No," Shannon stops in her tracks, "Francine has to go. I'm not going to let her screw around with Andrew the way Wendy did with Steven. I messed up once...but I won't mess up again," Shannon glares, as an anger induced tear trickles from her fiery eye, "C'mon, I'm sure we can get Hannah to vote with us."
"Shouldn't we tell Andrew, so he isn't in the dark about all this?" Victoria stumbles after Shannon, who has started running towards the stage.
Shannon shakes her head fiercely, "Not yet, it wouldn't be fair to tell him, and cloud his thoughts. That would be like cheating him out of the money, if he lost because of us. We'll tell him when he's eliminated, or after he wins."
"Don't you want to win? What do you have against the truth messing with him?"
"I want to win, but I want to win fairly," Shannon stops, she becomes silent for a moment, and continues to the stage.
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
"Well, kids. I hope you had fun today, because one of your dear friends is about to take a very shameful ride in a very shameful limosine after walking down a very shameful red carpet....of doom. The votes have been cast, and as soon as the intern brings me my plate of awards, we can begin," Chris sighs, as an intern rushes over with the awards.
"Here you are, Chris."
"Thanks, kid. You're fired," Chris shoves the intern off the stage, "Alright, let's get this over with. Victoria. Hannah. Andrew," Chris wings three awards out, nearly injuring the teens. "Next is Shannon. Annnnnnd.....Edward!"
"Aw, what?" Andrew shoots up from his seat, his award falls from the bleachers, and breaks to pieces on the ground.
"Relax, bro. We both knew there would be a time when one of us outlasted the other," Tristan smiles, and stands up.
"Tristan," Chris sighs, and begins walking away, hurling the final award over his shoulder.
"What?" Tristan turns, only to be knocked out by the flying award.
"Francine?" Andrew looks shocked, glancing at each of ther other contestants. "But, why her?"
"She did win two times in a row," Hannah shrugs, "Sorry, Andrew...she's just too good a contestant..."
"Andrew, its fine," Francine takes the hand of her boyfriend, "I won't be gone long, the game is almost over. Do your best, and make me proud, babe," Francine kisses his cheek, and begins a dignified stroll to the Lame-O-Sine.
"Who voted off Francine?" Andrew asks, aloud.
"Will Tristan ever wake up?" Shannon lifts Tristan's unconscious body off the ground.
"I guess we'll find out next time, on Total......Drama.....Action!" Victoria says, speaking loudly more than she is yelling.
"Worst episode ever," Edward yawns, and eats some of Tristan's Peeps.
Chapter Thirteen: "2010: A Space Oddity"
"Oh....oh, man," Tristan leans up, and flinches. He lifts his hand to his head, only to feel a cloth bandage holding a small ice pack to the side of his head, "Where am I?"
"You're in the infirmiry. You like that doctor job, yeah? I did it myself, with all I could find," Shannon is sitting in a small chair, to the side of Tristan's stretcher. She looks at a digital clock placed on a bedside table, "You've been out all night."
"My head feels like I was hit by a truck," Tristan tries to sit up, but Shannon calmly lays him back down.
"Try a chocolate statue covered in golden tin foil," Shannon lays a damp cloth over his forehead, "You need more rest. You're going to have a nice goose egg, right there."
Tristan groans, and shifts his body to the side, so he faces Shannon, "Where is everyone?"
"Sleeping, I would assume. They waited around for you to wake up as long as they could. One by one, they just dozed off. Andrew and I carried them off to the bunks," she turns and points to another chair, seated by the tent flap, where a sleeping Andrew rests, "He nodded off just over an hour ago."
Tristan smiles, "I...I remember he was upset about something. Wait, did I get eliminated?"
"No," Shannon frowns.
Tristan sighs in great relief, "Oh!"
Shannon rubs her arm, "Francine did."
"Oh," Tristan sighs again, much less greatful than before. He shifts, painfully, again, to face Andrew, "How'd he take it?"
"Very well," Shannon nods.
"Ah, well, that's a good thing, right?" Tristan once again attempts to sit up, only to be deterred by Shannon a second time.
"I don't know. It worries me. Someone who takes it that well has to be really hurting inside. You know Andrew better than anyone left in the game, I'd say. Is he one to hold things in?" Shannon asks.
Tristan shakes his head, "No. When he thought I was being homophobic towards Parker--"
"I remember that. Chris brought us girls into the control room, so we could watch it on the live feed," Shannon nods.
Tristan scoffs, "Thanks, Chris. Anyway, when he thought that was going on, he really let loose."
"I heard that," Andrew yawns, stretches, and sits up in his chair, "How're you doing, Werber?"
"I'm fine...mother of a headache. How'd you find out my last name?" Tristan looks confused.
"It's written on the back of your jersey, genius. Has been since day one," Andrew jokes, still half asleep.
"Ha, yeah, I forgot about that," Tristan rubs the back of his jersey, feeling the raised 'W', 'E', 'R' and 'B' letterting. He looks at Andrew, who is smiling, "What are you all cracked up about?"
"Werber. Really?" Andrew shakes his head.
"Well, Andy," Tristan stresses the 'Andy', "What's your last name?" Andrew shakes his head.
"Oh, come on, Andrew. Just tell him your last name. It can't be any worse than Werber," Shannon smiles.
"Or Yancy Weirz-whatever," Tristan chuckles.
Andrew sighs, "Dixon."
"How predictable! The American from Alabama has the last name 'Dixon'. Andy Dixon. Doesn't get much more chickenfried than that, does it?" Tristan teasingly jabs Andrew in the arm.
"Could be worse. I could be a 'Jethro' or a 'Cecil'," Andrew makes a vomitting noise, and laughs, "So, how does one become a Werber?"
"I'll have you know, its Jewish," Tristan pokes Andrew in the chest, "I'm half Jewish."
"And I'm half asleep," Shannon stands up, "We should let him rest, he took a nice hit."
Tristan sits up quickyl, "Bah! I'm an athelete! I've taken hits in boxing, football, hockey, lacrosse, basketball, diving, curling..chess...gymnastics...figure skating.....creative writing.......painting....photography....purple, blue.......fork.......elevator....Inuit....Saturn......butterscotch. I'm perfectly fine...." Tristan smiles, and passes out.
"Chris is stronger than I though. That, or those chocolate statues are heavier than they feel," Andrew relaxes his eyes, and yawns.
"I think he just got a head rush from sitting up so fast. He should be fine, in the morning," Shannon remarks, as she and Andrew depart.
--Confessional-- Edward sits, yawning in the confessional, the next morning. "I'm so pumped for today. My first day as a new man! Edward, the nice guy. That's what the blogs will call me," Edward smiles proudly, and crosses his arms, before taking a deep breath, "Ah, smell that? That's....uhh...smells like, cheap perfume and makeup made frome animal byproducts," Edward holds his stomach, "But, also victory. Yeah, victory!" --Confessional--
In the girls' trailer, Shannon and Victoria have awoken. Still clad in pajamas, they rustle the still sleeping Hannah.
"Hey, hey, Hannah. C'mon, wake up, we're going to go check on Tristan."
"Uh....who?" Hannah rolls over, pulling her pillow over her head.
"Y'know, tall guy. White-blonde hair. Wears a jersey with a big red twenty-six on it?" Victoria counts off on her fingers, "Flat personality. No redeeming qualities."
"Oh, yeah, I was worried, ever since he took that chocolate projectile to the noggin," Hannah rolls out of bed, and slides on her slippers, "Let's go!"
Meanwhile, thousands of inches away, in the boys' cabin, Andrew has awoken. He rushes out of the trailer, only in his underwear. As he passes the confessional trailer, Edward exits.
"Hey, Andrew. What's up, bro? Nice underwear, I always thought the Conferate flag was pretty. Did that sound weird?" Edward waves, as Andrew passes him, stops, runs back, and chucks Edward up onto his shoulder.
"Come on, Edward, we have to go check on Werber," Andrew puffs, as he tries to run with Edward's additional weight.
"Who?" Edward heaves, as Andrew's shoulder pushes into his gut, "You mean Tristan?"
Andrew and Edward arrive at the med tent shortly after the girls.
"Why are you in your underwear?" Hannah questions, backing away as Andrew stands next to her.
Victoria glances at Andrew's backside, as he sets Edward down, "Who cares?" She giggles. Shannon slaps her arm, and shakes her head disapprovingly.
As everyone gathers around his bed, Tristan awakes to the smiling faces of the rest of the final six. He smiles, "Oh, I had such a weird dream. You were there, Hannah. And Shannon. And you, Edward, and Victoria and Andrew.....Wait, hold up. Why is Edward the only one wearing actual clothes? And, Andrew, why are you in your boxers, man?"
Meanwhile, in the middle of the lot, dozens of unqualified and underage interns haul a giant spaceship. Chris opens his wallet, and looks at a picture of himself and Chef Hatchet at a beach, splashing each other in the water.
"I miss you, dude. Somehow I knew you'd go to jail for kidnapping a dozen teenagers and leaving them in an abandoned desert compound under the charade of your own reality show. But, it doesn't make the pain any easier to bear," Chris sighs, and sheds a dramatically convieniant single tear. He picks up a nearby megaphone, and calls out, "Attention castmates and injured contestant who we are not legally responsible for. Report to the middle of the film lot, for the challenge."
Edward, Victoria, Hannah and Andrew and Shannon, who are helping Tristan walk, meander over to the requested area.
Chris quickly hides his picture, "Good morning, castmates and jock with head injuries. Actually, that's redundant. Good morning castmates and jock. Before you, you will see--"
"The spaceship roller coaster thing from that season two episode where Harold got all, wha-cha call it? Eliminated," Tristan says, finally standing up all by himself.
"Correct. Today, your challenge will involve space and machines," Chris motions for the cast to get inside the ship.
"Wait a tick, we already did the futuristic-robo movie genre, at like, the beginning of the season," Victoria refuses to move, "What's the difference?"
"The difference is, not only is the ship a lot bigger and more dangerous than before, that this genre has more to do with the man's selfdestructive nature, ultimate undoing, yadda yadda, get in the ship," Chris stamps his foot.
The contestants obey, and climb into the ship. Chris immediately welds the door shut, and rushes off to the control room.
"Did ya'll hear that? It sounds like someone welded the door shut, thereby giving us limited oxygen supply," Victoria looks terrified.
"Bah, you're paranoid. We'll be fine. Now," Hannah looks around, "Chris was right, it is a bigger ship. Look, he left a confessional in here for us!"
Hannah walks over to the confessional, and as she grasps the door handle, an large, circular blue light comes on.
"Good evening, Hannah. May I be of some assistance?" the light emits a voice, in complete monotone.
"Chris? Is that you?" Hannah backs away, slowly, into the apparent safety of the group.
"Yes, Hannah. Hello, everyone. I hope all is well. Might I speak?" Chris' voice quietly surrounds the ground, from speakers set up all over the ship.
"Uh, sure, Chris. Go ahead," Victoria steps forward, in front of everyone else.
"Thank you, Victoria. Everyone, your challenge is as follows. I, the main supercomputer, have realized that the only way to stop you children from destroying the Earth from overuse of hairspray, aerosol cheese, cars built in the sixties, and factories that put pollutants in the air so you can have shirts with sarcastic and suggestive sentences written on them...is to exterminate you. You have ten minutes to find out how to deactivate me, before the challenge is over. Good day, to you."
"Chris, stop playin', open the door!" Tristan body-checks the exit, only to injury his shoulder.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Tristan. Good luck." the light shuts off. Immediately, it comes back on, "One last thing. If you are captured by the robotic arms, you are out."
"What robotic arms?" Edward looks around.
Shannon screams, "Those ones!" She points to the roof, where five long robotic arms begin dropping down.
--Confessional-- "I knew it was my time to shine, as new Edward! I'd selflessly sacrifice myself to help my friends!" Edward smiles triumphantly. Then, a scream is heard from outside the confessional. "Oh, crap. I forgot to selflessly sacrifice myself before I came in here...stupid, stupid hero!" Edward slaps himself in the forehead, and busts down the confessional door. --Confessional--
A mechanical arm is about to snatch up Victoria, as Edward breaks down the door.
"Never fear, Edward is here!" Edward rips off his shirt, "Oh, right. I forgot that I wasn't wearing a costume under my shirt. Come to think of it, I don't even own one. Nevertheless!" Edward jumps in front of Victoria, "You shall not pass! Fear my popular culture references!"
The arm does nothing for a moment. Then, all the arms come together, and lift Edward up.
"Weak!" Edward groans, as he is pulled towards the roof. Andrew reaches up, and yanks on an arm, tearing it down from the ceiling. Under Edward's girth, the other arms break off, as well.
"Thanks, Andrew. Good teamwork!" Edward points to Andrew and gives him a thumbs-up.
"My hero!" Victoria gratefully clings to Andrew, hugging his around the waist.
"Uh...no problem," Andrew looks down at Victoria, nervously.
Hannah taps Shannon on the shoulder, and points to the scene. Shannon shakes her head, in disbelief.
"Now she's trying to get between them?" Shannon whispers.
"It would appear our friend is now our foe," Hannah sighs.
Tristan walks up next to the girls, eating an apple, "Oh, yeah, while you guys were screaming, I decided to go ahead and win the challenge. It was pretty simple, there was a button that said 'off', and right next to it was an emergency hatch that was unlocked. I shimmied down, and got an apple from the mess hall, and then I remembered to tell you all."
Everyone stares vacantly at Tristan. "What?" He says, "There's more apples in the mess hall."
Andrew and Tristan help everyone out of the ship, while Chris waits impatiently.
"Tristan, you ruined the challenge," Chris stamps his foot, again.
"By winning?" Tristan looks confused.
"Whatever, just, everybody go vote for someone besides Tristan, since he had to go and get stupid invincibility in stupid record time," Chris scoffs, and walks off, steaming.
Hannah glances to Shannon, and they both nod.
--Confessional-- "Maybe Victoria was doing what we thought she was, maybe she wasn't. It doesn't really matter, I'm sure if we didn't vote for her, everyone else would, since she's gotten so much more serious of a player, and won two challenges in a row. Besides, I have my reasons for wanting the money, just like everyone else on this show," Hannah sighs, "I just think of those reasons, whenever I feel like I'm doing wrong." --Confessional--
--Gilded Chris Ceremony--
"Greeting, and whatever. Anyway, votes have been cast, someone is going home, blah, blah. The first stupid award, is for our winner of stupid invincibility, Tristan. But, since he broke my new ship, I refuse to throw it to him," Chris drops the award on the ground. Tristan sighs, and walks up and claims it.
"I'm no fool, I remember the whole deal about whoever doesn't receive one is out," Tristan tosses his award up, and catches it.
"Drat, foiled again!" Chris picks up two awards, "Shannon and Andrew are safe. So is Hannah," Chris throws the award to Hannah, and checks the results of the voting. "Well, it was five votes for the eliminated contestants, one vote for the last one safe. The final award goes to................Edward. Victoria, get off my film lot."
Victoria sighs sadly, "Yeah, I knew this would happen, after winning twice in a row. But you know what? I'm not sad, because I won something better than the money. I finally won the respect of my fellow contestants, as a formidible opponent. I think my leaving tonight is evidence of that. So, no hard feelings, you guys," Victoria smiles, and waves to the final five, as she walks down the Red Carpet of Shame.
"Well, there you have it! Another exciting episode, minus the challenge, which was ruined by a certain blonde, of Total Drama! Find out who makes it to the final four, and who loses out.....on Total....Drama....Action!" Chris signs off the show, and heads back to his trailer. Hannah and Edward do the same, but Andrew walks off by himself, and Tristan stops Shannon.
"Hey, you didn't have to play nurse for me all night, you know," Tristan looks serious.
"I just-," Shannon looks down.
"But I'm glad you did, and I just want you to know, I really appreciate it. Let me make it up to you...how about, in thanks, I don't ever vote for you?" Tristan sticks out his hand.
"Sounds fair, if you're really sure about that," Shannon smiles. Tristan nods, and the two shake hands.
Andrew is shown sitting by himself, far off from the other contestants, staring up at the moon. "Oh, Francine...I miss you," he sighs, stands up, and heads to his trailer.
Chapter Fourteen: "Raiders of the Surprise Cancellation"
A sullen Chris McLean a solid gold golf cart into the middle of the film lot, which is being disassemled by a gaggle of interns.
"Hey, Tucker, get me my megaphone, would you?" Chris pulls his golf cart up next to an intern wearing a knit cap.
"Huh? My name isn't Tucker, its Trevor," the intern looks confused, as he continues to pack away set props.
"Kid, let me tell you something about this business," Chris lays his hand on the intern's shoulder, "You could lend me your car, bring me coffee straight from Columbia, or give me a kidney when I desperately need a transplant. But, and listen very carefully....I will never bother to learn your name. Now, my megaphone, if you will?"
The stunned intern hands Chris the megaphone, and begins crying uncontrollably.
"Thanks, Tyler," Chris takes the megaphone, and quietly drives away.
"The worst part is that I actually did give him one of my kidneys!" the intern sobs, and runs off camera.
Chris steps out of his twenty-four carat golf cart, and announces through his megaphone, "Attention kids who were former contestants on Total Drama Action. Please meet me in the middle of what used to be the abandoned film lot."
Andrew, Hannah, Shannon, Edward and Tristan awkwardly exit their trailers, observing the dismantling of the film lot with much confusion.
"Chris, why are they tearing this place down?" Shannon asks, as large men begin ripping the former Femme Fatales' trailer apart.
"That's an odd question. This place deserves to be demolished," Andrew crosses his arms, "But I am curious as to what you mean by 'former' contestants?"
"Yeah, what, did you throw some crap in our contracts about 'a decent night's sleep results in immediate disqualification', or something?" Tristan jobs Andrew in the ribs with his elbow, jokingly.
"Actually, yes. But, that's not the reason for the 'former'," Chris takes a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket, and looks at the cast, "I received this notice from the producers."
"Well....what does it say?" Hannah motions impatiently with her hands for Chris to continue.
"It says that due to my 'extravagant and unecessary spending' of the show's money, the network can no longer afford to keep the show running, and so, they are terminating my contract, and the show is being cancelled...effective immediately. It also says that placement of the final five competing contestants has been decided by an online poll from the show's official website, though the allotted prize money has been reduced considerably," Chris folds the slip of paper back up, and drops it in his pocket.
"Who has the results?" Edward questions, nervously.
"One of the interns, I think. As soon as I find the one, I'll let you all know," Chris steps back into his golf cart, and departs.
--Confessional-- "Whoa! Who would have seen that coming? I mean, the show getting cancelled and all?" Edward rushes into the confessional, "I mean, what happened makes total sense and all, and shouldn't be questioned at all by the viewers or any critics watching the show, but still! Gee...this is so shocking, it makes me want to say strange explanations to the audiance!" The confessional rocks back and forth, and Edward falls over, "What the heck was that?" --Confessional--
Edward opens the confessional trailer's door, and sees that it has been hitched up to a U-Haul truck. As the truck begins pulling away, Edward leaps from the confessional, doing several rolls as he hits the ground.
Meanwhile, Chris pulls his cart up to the crying intern. "Hey, Thomas, do you know who has the results from the online poll?"
The intern blows his nose with a piece of paper, and then immediately looks alarmed. Slowly, he looks over to Chris, "Uh...I do." Chris nods, and after a few seconds, his eyes get wide, and he starts at the piece of paper the intern used to wipe his nose. The intern smiles, nervously.
"Man...what are we going to do? How are all of us suppose to get home?" Shannon sighs, deeply. Tristan rests his hand on her shoulder, and smiles, sympathetically.
"Hey...I'm sure there's a pay phone around here somewhere...or maybe Chris will let us use his cell?" Tristan's smile turns halfway into a frown. "Has anyone else noticed that this show never has a normal finale?"
Ignoring Tristan's last question, Andrew sighs, "You guys are lucky that you live here in Canada...I have to figure out a way to get to Alabama..."
"Thats on the other end of the continent," Hannah says.
Andrew frowns, "Thanks, I didn't know that," he says, sarcastically.
"Hey, sarcasm is my thing! I'm the sarcastic jock!" Tristan frowns.
"You've mentioned playing sports like, three times in two seasons," Hannah points out, "And you aren't that sarcastic anymore." Tristan falls to the ground, in the fetal position.
Shannon helps him back up to his feet, "Hey, now, there's no need for that..."
Chris returns, in her extravagant golf cart, "Hey, all. I've got the results, here..."
Edward turns to Shannon, "Man, Chris is kinda personality-less today.."
"He's going bankrupt...," Shannon frowns at Edward. Edward frowns, and nods.
"As per the results of the online poll, the person with the most votes wins the competition, second most gets second place, and so on. Therefor, fifth place is hereby awarded to.........Tristan," Chris says, with luckluster.
"What? I got fifth place?! What the heck, man? I thought I was popular...," Tristan falls back into the fetal position.
Edward crosses his fingers, "Come on, baby, one down, four to go...big money, big money, no whammy..."
"Moving on...fourth place goes to Edward," Chris continues.
"DAWW!!" Edward cries out, and falls to his knees.
"Third place is officially awarded to Andrew," Chris announces, with little evidence of his usual perky sadistic personality.
Andrew shrugs, "I'm really more concerned with trying to get home...."
Ignoring the wayward son, Chris prepares to announce the winner of the expired contest, "The winner, by three votes, as decided by the online community....is Hannah," Chris drops the infected piece of paper on the ground, and produces on of Jessica's left behind bottles of hand sanitizer, and vigorously scrubs his hands.
Shannon pats Hannah on the back, "Congradulations, you deserve it," Shannon givers her a friendly smile.
Hannah grimaces, as Chris reaches into his shirt pocket, "Here is your prize....forty dollars," Chris hands Hannah the seriously reduced prize money, and she sighs with relief. "Now, if all of you will hurry...I've arranged for transportation, all of you will be going home. Andrew, the network has booked you a flight to Birmingham, it leaves tonight. I'll call you all via megaphone when the bus arrives," Chris sadly walks away, as crew members drive his golf cart away.
"Guys...this is the last time we'll see each other..." Tristan says.
"Yeah, and its for real this time...our contracts are voided, no lame season three clause...," Hannah smiles, softly.
"Tristan, I just wanted to say...you were my best friend, on this crazy show. You're one of my best friends, overall, too...I, I don't make friends very easily. I know why, too...Its because I'm so opinionated. I know people don't like me, and I know I can be a total jerk...so, I just wanted to say, thanks, man. And, I'm sorry to all of you guys, too," Andrew turns to Hannah, Shannon and Edward, "I'm sorry you guys had to put up with me...I wish I could apologize to all our friends that aren't here...they're probably home, by now," Andrew turns to a camera duct taped to a tree, "If you guys are watching, I'm sorry...and, Francine, I'll find a way to contact you, so I can say my 'I'm sorrys' personally..."
Tristan, Edward, Shannon and Hannah circle around Andrew, and hug him.
After a long pause, Shannon says, "What would you do, if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me? Lend me your ears, and I'll sing you a song....I will try not to sing out of key."
Edward follows with, "Have a little help, from my friends..."
Tristan and Hannah begin too, "Have a little help from my friends...ooooo, oooo, ooooo..."
Andrew, teary eyed, says, "You guys are so lame," he wraps his arms around his friends, and silently, they all begin to cry. Hannah looks down at the ground, in shame. Finally, she breaks away from the group.
"What's up," Tristan says, wiping his eyes on his arm.
Hannah hesitates for a moment, and then says, "....Chris gave me my prize money in four tens...and, I thought, I owe it to you guys....so, here...," Hannah takes the money out of her pocket, and hands a ten to each of the other four.
"Hannah, no...this is your prize," Shannon says, as she and the others try to give it back.
"No...please, just keep it..," Hannah backs away from them, raising her hands up, defensively.
"And, what do you mean, you owe us?" Edward chuckles, steps towards her, trying to give his share back.
"Please, just, keep it...if you see the show on television...you'll understand what I mean," Hannah sighs. The other four stare at her for a second, and then nod, slowly.
Tristan whispers to Andrew, "I think she's trying to say that she was the one stealing everyone's underwear..."
"Kids, the bus is here...time to go!" Chris calls over, through his megaphone. After a long series of heaved sighs, they comply, and begin making their way towards the bus. Chris watches as the former contestants enter the bus, he sighs as it pulls away, into the morning sunrise. Chris McLean takes one last look at the former set, and finally begins walking to his awaiting car, whistling the Total Drama theme song, his theme song.
Two Years Later.
Chris McLean, is sitting quietly at a table sipping cheap coffee, inside a busy McDonalds. From the busy mass of crying children and obese single women, a man in a suit approaches Chris.
"Mr. McLean? Mr. Chris McLean?" the man askes, and Chris looks up at him, "I'm a representative from a recently established network. We've seen your shows under the 'Total Drama' franchise, name. My network would like to buy the rights to Total Drama, under the condition that you are brought back as the host."
"I'm listening," Chris wipes his mouth with a napkin, and sets his coffee to the side.
The man smiles, "Here's our idea..."
- Originally, only fourteen characters were going to return, like in Total Drama Action. However, the author decided to bring sixteen back.
- This season will be males vs. females, in terms of pre-merge teams.
- There were to be two new characters, but the author decided against it.
- Steven, Rachael, Morgan, Nicole, Charlie and Laura do not return as contestants.
- Chapter one was originally to have a double-elimination.
- Had the third challenge been reached, in chapter two, it would have been a football challenge. Team Masculine would have lost.
- As of now, Gerald and Nicole are the only contestants not shown using the confessional.
- Briefly, the author considered keeping David as a lazy, useless contestant. David would have gotten much farther than the tenth place he achieved in the final draft. Basically, David would continue to be lazy, and not help at all in challenges, but another character would alway screw up or cause a problem, saving him from elimination. Eventually, his team would decide that it was probably close to the merge, and that David would be easy to beat in any merge challenges, so no one would bother to vote for him at that point. Once the merge came, he would slide by every challenge, because no one saw him as a threat, eventually placing him in the final three, where he would be eliminated in a sudden-elimination challenge. However, he would give insight to other characters who had problems. A character would come to David, and tell him their problem, and he would say nothing, due to being asleep. They wouldn't notice, and compliment his listening skills. Another character would be at a crossroads, and the character from before would refer them to David. This time, David would be asked advice, and he would answer in a coincidentally helpful way, when really, he was sleeptalking to someone in his dream. This would earn him the respect and support of other contestants.
- Chapter 12 contains various references to Van Halen, (the bowl of candy and the collaspsing stage) and Guns N' Roses (the titles, as well as many other things).
- Unused chapter titles include Toronto McLean and the Last Raider in the Crystal Temple's Ark of Doom, Don't Stand By Me, Volca-NO! and A Star's War: Return of the Empire's Phantom Clone.