Easy, Breezy, Beautiful

Fourteen of the cattiest aspiring fashion designers all agree to live under the same roof for an entire summer, all for the chance to win one million dollars and the title of "Most On-Point Fashionista".

What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter 01: A Passion for Fashion
Overly energetic music plays as tacky colors and stage lights flash on and off the screen. Flashes of color followed by guitar riffs followed by even more color, the entire display looks like it has been put together by somebody who isn’t quite all there. When the scene finally settles, the spotlight falls on two distinct individuals standing back-to-back. A man whose chocolate brown hair seems to defy the laws of physics, with sparkly eyes the color of the sky when the sky is inexplicably green. Beside him, a woman whose luscious mane of bubblegum pink hair made the boldest of statements, wearing a tight white dress that certainly did favors for her bust. As the music comes to a crescendo, the two mysterious figures’ eyes open in time with one another’s, before both snapping their heads directly towards the camera as the music reaches its peak. The two finally break apart and begin walking down a long, red carpet.

“Welcome, to the greatest fashion show of ALL time!” The man exclaims, throwing his arms into the air as he walks. “My name is Chip McCazmerick,”

“And I’m Flutina Weathers,” the woman interjects.

“And tonight, fourteen of the world’s boldest, most aspiring fashionistas will gather together for the most stylish,” Chip stops briefly to make a pose.

“Groovy,” Flutina shakes her hips.

“Scandalous,” Chip covers his mouth to feign shock.

“Romantic,” Flutina places her hand over her heart.

“And most importantly DRAMATIC reality TV competition ever.” As Chip and Flutina wrap up their introduction, they come upon a wooden sea port at the end of the red carpet. The two hosts very quickly relax and shake themselves off from their performance, turning their backs away from the port so they could see the rest of the island: fancy buildings jutting into the sky, a rainbow of lights flashing about, and a rather spacious forest area surrounding it all. Flutina couldn’t help but draw Chip closer, resting her head on his shoulder.

“Isn’t it just so beautiful?”

“Yeah,” Chip says, “it really is... I just hope we’re not making a huge mistake.”

Flutina frowns. “Don’t be like that. Everything will turn out just fine.”

“I’m starting to doubt that dragging them into this was ever a good idea. They’re too… unpredictable, and free. They’re bound to screw things--” Chip cuts himself off as Flutina clasps her hands on both of his shoulders, staring directly into his sky-green eyes.

“They are exactly what this island needs.”

Elsewhere out on the open sea, a single sailboat is making its way through rough waters. On board are the fourteen aforementioned fashionistas, all of them on the deck partying and getting to know one another while they make their way to their destination. Well, all but one, that is. Off sitting in the corner was the starkly introverted Vicky, writing away in her journal.

Dear Nothing,

''Ever since I departed on this grandiose, meaningless adventure, I have encountered nothing but stupidity. Everyone on this ship seems to see themselves as having some kind of place, like they are meant to be here, or something. There also seems to be an overabundance of chatter about our destination; if I saw any purpose in engaging with these people, I would not neglect to inform them that our destination is nothing. At the end of the day, whoever wins this competition, and whoever loses, both will meet the same soulless, lifeless void; none of their accomplishments ever mattering, their names fading into obscurity as the next generation of blind patrons emerge to ride on the deceptive carnival ride that is life.''

''Why no one else can see it besides me is a point of wonder, but not one I am interested in pursuing. Ignorance is bliss, and unless ignorance comes up and tries to start a conversation, I see no reason to crush it. Really-''

“Hi!” Vicky’s expression quickly turns to one of shock and horror. She slowly looks up to see the rather plain, average-looking Ramsey standing awkwardly before her. After a few seconds of Vicky awkwardly blinking at him, Ramsey says, “Uh, mind if I sit down?”

Vicky sighs. “I doubt I’ll be able to stop you.” Ramsey’s face lights-up. He eagerly takes a seat on the floor next to Vicky.

“So, what’s your name?” Ramsey asks.

“Victoria,” Vicky replies coldly. Ramsey looks taken aback. “What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Ramsey laughs. “I just thought your name would be more… um… y’know…”

“Dark, depressing, and accepting of everything dark and miserable in the world?”

“Er… I guess?”

“They call me Vicky.” Vicky takes a moment to click her pen and close her journal, returning the items to her bag. She could tell that this moron wasn’t going to be going away anytime soon.

“Ah, Vicky!” Ramsey grins, apparently more satisfied with the name. “So, Vicky, tell me about yourself.”

“Who I am is irrelevant and is a point of least concern.” Vicky says, “If it were worth telling people about I would’ve written a book already.”

Ramsey laughs. “Aw, come on, everyone has a story.”

“Everyone has a story that they think is worth telling,” Vicky says. She quickly scans Ramsey up and down. “For the sake of my point, what’s yours?”

“I’m from Tennessee.” Ramsey declares proudly. Vicky blinks. “What, did you expect something more?” Vicky sighs, slowly banging her forehead against her knees.

Out on the deck, the scene is far more lively. A crowd was starting to form around two contestants in particular: Travis, a man who seems to have forgotten his shirt, and Pietro, a man who remembered his shirt but has quickly disposed of it after being challenged to a tournament of testosterone.

“Are you ready to see what a real MAN can do?” Pietro flexes, showing off his hulking biceps. Travis smirks before pumping his pectoral muscles, causing many of the female (and a few of the male) contestants to swoon. Pietro shoots Travis an envious glare before whipping out the big guns: that’s right, his legs. The spectators quickly start to ooh and ahh at Pietro’s godly leg muscles, before Travis counters with his cute and impeccably charming face. The crowd goes absolutely wild, before one bad apple storms in to spoil the fun.

“That is enough,” exclaims the short, frail, older woman with skin the color of dust. “I, Matilda Louisa-Ann Goldschmidt, will not stand for this pointless charade of lust and egocentric behavior!” The crowd quickly grows annoyed and disperses, leaving Matilda face-to-face with the shirtless Pietro. She stomps up to him, jabbing her index finger square in the middle of his exposed chest before proceeding to glare deep into his soul. “Put your shirt back on, you buffoon! Nobody here wants to see your sick, twisted, provocative body!”

Pietro scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Clearly,”

Matilda growls. “Clothes were meant to be worn, not to be cast off just so you can carry out teen girls’ and homosexuals’ dirty, sinful fantasies!” Pietro grits his teeth and steps forward, causing Matilda to stumble back, only to see Pietro towering over her now, his face mere inches above hers in a pure act of intimidation.

“Manliness knows no bounds,” he says in his scariest voice possible. Matilda casually flicks Pietro’s nose. Pietro’s eye twitches, before he faints from the crippling blow.

“Now,” Matilda says, “for the OTHER one…” she whirls around, only to find that Travis had cleverly vanished during her and Pietro’s confrontation. Matilda sniffs and points her nose up in the air. “Very well, then. My job here is done.” She walks off.

Further down the deck, bumbling chef Alfred and free spirit Karen are gathered around Lila, who is cheerfully strumming away at her ukulele as the wind blows her poofy lavender hair every which way.

“So, you’re a lawyer?” Alfred asks Karen, who is presently combing through her stringy blonde hair with her fingers.

“Yeah, man,” she replies, “it’s a pretty chill gig.”

“So you didn’t mean to apply for this show either?”

Karen laughs. “Actually, I did. After I got through law school and all, I started to realize how constricted our society is. Nine to five jobs, suburbia, social classes and stuff. Then I started to think of what causes all of these limitations, and what I could do to fix it. And then it hit me: fashion. You feel me?” Alfred blinks, hopelessly confused. “The only way to live without restriction is to live as we were initially: free, out in the open, and unclothed.”

Alfred gives a nervous chuckle. “Right… So, I’m the only one here who isn’t into this whole fashion thing?”

“Nope,” Lila says, still merrily plucking at her ukulele. Alfred’s face lights up. “I’m just here to spread the love and advocate for world peace!” Alfred’s expression drops right away.

“Oh,” he sighs. “But then… Why are you on a fashion show? Aren’t there better ways?”

“Like getting a Tumblr?” Karen suggests.

“Muh,” Lila shrugs as she stops playing her ukulele. “I suppose. But life is just one big adventure! Why not try to have some fun while trying to make the world a better place? I mean sure, an internet blog would reach more people, but being there in person, it… it changes people,” Lila kneels down and places her hand over Alfred’s heart. “Right here.” Alfred blinks awkwardly. “Do you feel the love, Alfie?”

Alfred gulps. “Um, not… really?” Lila’s face reflects a look of absolute devastation.

“World peace is fleeting!” Lila cries, throwing her arms up in the air, resulting in her throwing her ukulele overboard. After a brief moment to realize what she had just done, Lila’s eyes widen. “Carolyn!” The zany girl dives into the ocean after her beloved instrument. Alfred and Karen both look over the boat's railing, finding no trace of her.

“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Alfred asks.

Karen shrugs. “Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow, man.” Alfred sighs.

The scene casually shifts to a different part of the boat’s railing, where a new group of contestants awaits. Spence is presently working his leather-laced charm on Gretchen, who is acting ever-so disinterested.

“So yeah, my ex-girlfriend’s dad owns like, four motorcycles. Haha, yeah, I know right? And even after we broke-up, he still lets me ride them. Cuz I really am that cool.” Spence gives a triumphant smile. He turns to Gretchen, who is boredly filing away at her nails. The queen finally looks up to meet Spence’s eyes and jumps, as if just now noticing his presence.

“Oh, sorry, what’d you say?” Spence sighs.

“I have a tight six-pack and a hammer in my p--,”

Gretchen bursts out laughing. “Wait, I’m sorry, but I’m really not. A hammer? Is that the best you can do? Jeez, why am I even giving you the time of day?”

Spence panics, before blurting out. “A, uh, a really BIG hammer!” Gretchen can no longer contain her laughter, knocking herself off her feet and proceeding to roll on the floor laughing. Spence’s face turns a deep shade of red. After a few awkward moments, Gretchen finally regains her composure, standing back up and fixing her specially-done hair.

“I’m sorry, but you are just not worth it.” Gretchen says, “Your fashion sense is nonexistent. Your charm is critically endangered. And you are a grade-A loser.” Spence gasps at Gretchen’s outrageously harsh comments.

“WELL,” Spence folds his arms matter-of-factly, “at least I’m not grade… grade… F! I doubt any of the other guys here even want you, and you turn me down for no reason?”

Gretchen assumes her sassiest pose possible and glares daggers at Spence. “Now you listen here, punk. I am not here to get into some moronic dude-bag’s pants. I am here for ME. When I am through with this show, people around the WORLD will know my name. And you?” Gretchen gets all up in Spence’s face. “You will be a NOBODY!” Spence stumbles back, scared for his life. Gretchen snaps her fingers in a z-formation and skips off. Spence grits his teeth.

“What a diva…” Spence taps his chin contemplatively. “Yeah, she totally wants me.” The bro stands firmly and begins to walk in the opposite direction, a triumphant grin across his face.

Somewhere else on the deck, High-Heel Heath is in action, wasting no time in putting on his acting face and giving everyone a show. In a dress that made all the female contestants feel wildly insecure about their own fashion senses, Heath struts around, a stern look on his face. Most of the others take measures to avoid him out of fear, except for one: the ever-so egocentric Chadd, always on the look out for something shocking.

“Dude,” Chadd laughs. “We have a drag queen on this show? That is awesome!”

“No drag,” Heath says in some unrecognizable accent as he overacts. “Just queen.” He flips his bright wig of hair over his shoulder like it’s nobody’s business.

“Ah, this is great!” Chadd exclaims, “Finally, somebody to challenge my expertise.”

“Alejandro,” Heath says, grabbing Chadd’s shoulders. Chadd is noticeably dumbfounded.

“Um, it’s Chadd…”

Heath pulls Chadd uncomfortably close to him. “Together, we can accomplish anything!”

“With two D’s, man… two…”

“Together, we… we can take over the world!” Heath throws one of his arms up towards the sky, giving Chadd enough room to escape. However, Chadd simply stays put, in awe of Heath.

“Actually, that... sounds pretty nice.”

Heath draws his hand pack, tilting his head down in a pure bout of melodrama. “D’accord,” he says. Chadd’s face reflects a look of overwhelming confusion, and so he simply pats Heath on the back, looking to comfort him.

“There, there… pal…?” Chadd glances at the camera awkwardly.

The sun beat down on the contestants as the boat soars through the water. Southern belle Betsy and chatty Danni are at the boat’s most forward point, looking out into the horizon. Betsy fixes her black cowgirls hat and turns around, sinking to ship’s wood floor.

“I reckon we oughta be ther’ by now,” Betsy pouts.

“Oh my gosh there it is!” Danni squeals, jumping up and down excessively. Betsy springs to her feet and looks out to the sea again. Sure enough, there it is: the island they had all been hearing about. The one they longed for and the one they thought would never come. The island where many of their dreams would come true, but just as many more would perish.

“Docking in ten!” A message rings out over the ship’s intercom, apparently from the captain.

Betsy dances around in glee. “Ah can’t wait!”

“Ooohhh my gosh, I know right?” Danni asks. “Actually now that I think about it I’m not a very patient person so I guess saying that I can’t wait for something doesn’t hold that much weight but I mean this I really CAN’T wait for because oh my God we’re going to be on a TV show and we’re gonna be like backstabbing each other and voting each other out and it’ll be just like Total Drama well I mean the first like six seasons ‘cause you know we all know what happened to that show hahaha but yeah I can’t wait!”

Betsy looks at Danni, her left eye twitching in annoyance. She shakes her head and plasters a smile on her face. “Haha, I know exactly what yer mean!” She playfully slugs Danni in the arm.

Danni’s eyes well with tears. “H-how could you do that?” Betsy hesitated.

“I-I, it was a joke!”

Danni runs off crying. Or, she tries to. She gets about five feet away before running over her dress and face-planting squarely on the floor. Betsy grits her teeth in utter annoyance, but calms herself before returning to her sunny disposition, helping Danni up.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” Danni sniffles and gives Betsy a knowing smile, before embracing her in a hug that was all too powerful. Betsy rolls her eyes, but plays along.

Minutes later, the ship’s horn signals to all of the contestants the news they had been waiting for: they are about to dock! Everyone grabs their various bags of the luggage that had been carelessly thrown into one corner of the deck and gathers in the center. The boat finally docks and they all rush out.

“Way cool!” Lila exclaims.

“Why does such a small island have all those big buildings?” Travis points to the island’s inner city, still surrounded by dense woodland. As the boat drives away, the contestants all look around for some semblance of life on the island, only to be disappointed.

“Sooo… What now?” Ramsey asks.

“We all stand here and waste away,” Vicky replies.

“That does not seem like a good idea,” Pietro states.

Gretchen scoffs. “No, really, brainiac?”

“Looking for US?” The contestants, all turn and look down the dock, to see Chip and Flutina walking down the red carpet towards them. Flutina steps ahead of Chip in order to greet the contestants. “Welcome to your home for the next six weeks! I would have everyone go around and introduce themselves, but I’m sure you all got more than acquainted on your boat ride here.” A few of the contestants grumble in disgust. “Now, as you all know, this is, first and foremost, a fashion show. So before we get to any of the boring, old game mechanics, let’s give you a tour of our FABULOUS locale!”

Chip snaps his fingers, signaling everyone to follow him down the red carpet. “As you can probably tell, we spared no expense when putting this place together.” Chip says as he walks everyone through the forest. “However, these woods are still a little underdeveloped. If you ever find yourself wandering in here, don’t be surprised it you see, like, one or two rogue crew members. Don’t be alarmed, they’re just doin’ their jobs.”

“And we must point out,” Flutina interrupts, “that trying to converse with these crew members will not end well for you. It could very well lead to your expulsion from the competition, or worse.” A few of the contestants exchange odd looks with one another.

The group makes their way into the more urban part of the island. The streets are lined with tiny little shops, and a couple civilians walking to and fro.

“Whoa, people live here?” Alfred asks.

Chip bursts out laughing. “Ha! No, not at all. Any and all civilians you see here are merely paid actors. It’s to help you guys feel more at home, and to help us…” Chip pauses to choose his words carefully, “...keep a watchful eye.”

Continuing his introduction, Chip says, “Most of your challenges will be outdoors, for better lighting and all. But for down time where you all don’t feel like being roasted by the tropical sunlight, you’ll be staying… there!” Chip points to the tallest building in the center of the island. “The Hotel de Couture! Located centrally on the island, it’ll give you a wide range of access to all of the glamorous island features and the like. Also, for added dramatic purposes, you’ll all be limited to just a few rooms. Two for the guys, two for the gals, based on what team you're on. It wouldn’t be very dramatic if we had everyone on their own floor, now, would it?”

“No, it wouldn’t,” Flutina chimes in.

The two hosts both turn to face the contestants once they reach the Hotel de Couture. “And this, is the town square. This is where we will meet for all of our challenges, votes, eliminations, all that good stuff.”

“I must implore you to get on with it,” Matilda folds her arms crankily.

“Before we cut you loose,” Flutina says, “we will be dividing you into teams!”

“Isn’t this, like, an individual thing?” Karen asks.

“Well, that would just be no fun, now, would it?” Flutina shakes her head matter-of-factly. “Anyway. When I call you name, please step forward. Alfred, Vicky, Pietro…”

Pietro excitedly grabs Alfred and bounds forward, while Vicky saunters up disinterestedly.

“Gretchen, Karen, Heath, and… Matilda!”

Pietro’s face reflects absolute horror at Matilda’s name being called. Karen gladly walks up, standing next to Alfred. Heath and Gretchen both attempt to strut up, before locking eyes with one another in total disgust. When the team is all together, Flutina tosses them a golden flag.

“You guys will be known as the Killer Catwalks!”

“Hey, that’s pretty cool,” Alfred says.

“Lame,” Gretchen folds her arms.

Flutina looks at the remaining contestants, a big smile across her face. “That means that the rest of you, Ramsey, Spence, Danni…”

Ramsey smiles awkwardly, Danni smiles obnoxiously, and Spence smiles smugly.

“Lila, Chadd, Travis, and Betsy will all be on the other team!”

Lila jumps with excitement while the others merely nod, not really caring what team they are on.

Flutina tosses the second group a red flag and exclaims, “You will henceforth be known as the Rampaging Runways!” Many of the team members cheer, believing their name to be way better than the other team’s. A few members of the Killer Catwalks frown in disappointment.

“Alright, now that that’s settled,” Chip says, “go crazy!” The contestants all hurriedly charge for the doors of the Hotel de Couture, hoping to possibly get better rooms than others or not have to room with people they already dislike. As the final contestant enters the hotel, Flutina and Chip both turn to the camera, bearing their pearly-white smiles for the world to see.

“That’s it for now! Tune in next time for a new, dramatic episode of Easy,” Flutina strikes yet another pose.

“Breezy,” Chip echos Flutina with a similar pose.

“BEAUTIFUL!” The hosts sing in unison.

The scene fades to black as the two hosts exchange brief, worried looks.

Chapter 02: The Fabrics of Failure
As the contestants rush into the Hotel de Couture carrying their luggage, they all stop to take in the atmosphere of the worst lobby ever. Cobwebs and dust seem to hold dominion over every piece of furniture, while the walls are covered in sickly green paint. There is but one shag carpet, in the center of the lobby, barely covering any of the broken tile floor. Opposite the entrance is a small window for the hotel’s receptionist, who is predictably absent.

“‘Spared no expense’ my tush!” Matilda shouts as the group disperses into the lobby, searching for any sort of indication as what they are supposed to do. While everyone wastes their time scrutinizing the walls, floor, and furniture, Vicky does the sensible thing and opens a single door, adjacent to the hotel’s entrance. Once the door squeaks open enough to reveal what lies behind, each and every contestant stops dead their in their tracks, being faced with twenty-first century humanity’s greatest arch nemesis:

Stairs.

Gretchen looks absolutely disgusted. “Um, how about no?”

“Want a ride?” Travis asks, nudging Gretchen with his elbow. The queen bee glances to Travis, completely unfazed by his darling face, smooth, creamy complexion, and chiseled physique. Readying herself to shoot the model down, Gretchen catches herself, remembering the daunting task before her. She quickly fluffs her hair and puts on her most seductive expression.

“Sure, baby,” she says, eagerly hopping onto Travis’s back, proceeding to be whisked away by the objectively hottest member of the cast. Spence is fuming.

“Oh, hecks no!” Spence yells, darting up the staircase after them. “I saw her first!” The rest of the contestants begin to come together in order to defeat the obstacle.

“Oh, God,” Alfred says, “this will take forever!”

“No,” says a deep voice as a hand grabs Alfred’s head. Alfred is promptly horrified.

As the rest of the contestants make their way up the stairs, the only sound to be heard is Alfred’s screams of terror as Pietro rockets through the staircase at blazing speed. After far too many flights and passing almost everyone who started before them, Pietro busts through an exquisite-looking door, onto the single fanciest floor of the hotel.

With two gargantuan windows capping the hall on either side, a combination of sunlight and fancy chandeliers lights up the hall. Orange carpeting is sprawled across the floor, with many different portraits and paintings, mostly of Chip and Flutina, adorning the the golden walls. Taken in all at once, the hall assumes a very royal appearance.

Alfred can only rock back and forth in the fetal position, his eyes the size of softballs, as the rest of the contestants finish their climbs and begin to explore.

“Alfie!” Lila runs to Alfred’s aid. “Are you okay?”

Pietro gives a hearty laugh. “Why, of course he is!”

“No,” the chef boy replies meekly.

Lila and Pietro exchange awkward glances.

“...Oops.”

Many of the contestants have already ventured further down the hall, finding four doors, two on either side of the hall. On one side, the doors bear either a red or gold version of the Venus symbol, representing the women. The same is true on the other side, but with the Mars symbol, for the men. Spence and Travis meet one another at the red men’s door, with Spence shooting a resentful glare at the much more attractive man.

“Can I... help you?” Travis asks, obviously very confused.

Spence shoves his sunglasses up on his face and stares down Travis. Well, technically he is staring up, since Travis has at least six to seven inches on him. But that’s not important. “Yeah,” Spence says, “Stay out of my way, or… or… or else!” Spence attempts to storm through the door, only to accidentally slam himself into it instead. After an awkward exchange of looks, Spence finally shoves the door open and stomps inside. Just as this happens, Chadd strolls up.

“Jeez. Who peed in that guy’s cocoa puffs?” Chadd asks.

Travis shrugs. “Maybe he forgot to spend fifteen minutes to save fifteen percent or more on car insurance.” Chadd blinks.

“Girl, what are you on about?”

“...I have no idea.”

Inside each room is a fairly basic set-up: two bunk beds, a small dresser, and an average-size window allowing for a spectacular view of the island. Most people have now taken to entering their rooms and unpacking. High-Heel Heath, no longer dressed-up in drag, nervously shuffles into his room, where Alfred and Pietro have already made themselves at home. “Wait, a minute,” Pietro says, looking at Heath from head to toe. “Were you on the boat ride here?”

“Uh, yeah,” Heath says, giving a sheepish smile. “I was…”

“The man-lady?”

Heath visibly cringes. “Er, yeah...”

“Oh,” Pietro says, a stiff air between the two. “Well, uh... welcome to the team!” He awkwardly offers Heath a handshake.

Heath half-heartedly accepts. “Thank--” A loud squeal slices through the air, piercing everyone’s eardrums within a five-mile radius. “What the?”

The scene promptly cuts to Danni giddily dancing around as she realizes she will be sharing a room with Betsy. The cowgirl’s expression is nothing if not murderous. “Oh my gosh you’re the girl from the boat! I can’t believe we’re going to be rooming together for the entire season like oh my God can you believe it I can’t believe like I’ve never even had a roommate before and now what a coincidence my first roommate is also my bestest friend in the whole wide world I can’t wait to start doing each other’s hair and makeup and talking about all of the boys and just ah I’m like freaking out right now hey by the way my name’s Danni what was yours again?”

Betsy’s eye twitches uncontrollably. “Betsy. Betsy Bopper.”

Danni immediately lights up. “Oh my God, alliteration is my just fave!”

“What in tarnation is alliteration?” Betsy asks, her accent noticeably returning. Danni begins to open her mouth, before Betsy realizes what a grave mistake she has made and smacks her hand over Danni’s mouth. “Ne’ermind. Don’t answer that. We’ve got things to do.”

“Like what?” Danni asks, her voice muffled by Betsy’s hand.

Betsy grits her teeth. “Like finding you a new best friend…”

Out in the hallway, Ramsey is sauntering around. Being a scrawny kid with low expectations for himself, he had neglected to pack any luggage. So now, Ramsey is boredly studying the paintings on the wall, particularly on of Chip, Flutina, and a tiny little chihuahua: painted as if they were a true-blue family. As he walks, Ramsey notices another door in the hall: a slick, silver door.

“...You have got to be kidding me!” Ramsey says, to himself, dashing over towards the door. “This place has an elevator?” He presses the elevator’s button, causing the doors to slide open. Ramsey steps in, and the doors slide shut once again.

Ramsey (Confessional): *pressing various buttons* What the heck? This thing doesn’t even work! What sick, twisted human being would build a fake elevator? Like seriously, what is the point of-- *abruptly notices camera* ...Oh…

The elevator slides back open and Ramsey steps out, only to meet an overjoyed Lila on the other side. “Found the confessional,” Ramsey says.

“Oh, that’s all it is?” Lila frowns, disappointment evident across her face. “What a bum--” a morbid, blood-curdling shriek shakes the entire building.

“Sweet Tennessee twinks getting creamed on a Sunday!” Ramsey shouts, jumping into Lila’s arms as if she were his own mother. “What was that?!”

Lila contemplates for a moment. “Maybe Matilda finally met Karen!” She laughs.

“The nudist?” Ramsey asks. Lila nods. “Oh, God,”

A sharp crackling sound can be heard as Chip’s voice comes over the hotel’s PA system. “From all this yelling, I can assume that you’ve all become more than comfortable in your newfound accommodations. But don’t get too comfortable, fashion felines! Your first challenge is A-S-A-Now! Meet me in the town square, and bring your A-game! The cruel world of reality TV casting has come back to haunt you. McCaz, out!” The PA system promptly switches off.

With not a cloud in the sky, sunlight rains down over the island, giving it a certain liveliness as the contestants slowly and sporadically filter out of the Hotel de Couture, eventually gathering into their teams in the town square, standing before Chip and Flutina.

“Aw, look at all of your darling faces!” Flutina sings. “Just as cute as when you first got here.”

“That’s because we just got here,” Vicky retorts.

Flutina frowns. “Let’s not cloud the issue with facts here, Vicky. Right, Chip?”

“That’s right!” Chip says, stepping forward into a triumphant pose and flashing his pearly whites to the camera. The contestants all roll their eyes and groan collectively. Chip straightens up and smirks at the cast. “Now, as I am sure you all remember, during the casting process we had each of your designate a certain fabric was your favorite. Correct?” The contestants nod. “Well, today’s challenge will be playing off of that. We have selected one person from each team’s designated fabric; that person’s team will be responsible for designing a killer outfit using only that fabric!”

Alfred and Lila’s expressions both immediately drop. Chip lets out a slightly malignant laugh.

“Oh, Chip,” Flutina skips up. “It seems as we have a few psychics in our midst!”

“That it does, Flutina!” Chip laughs. “Alfred, Lila, care to share with your teammates the oh-so witty responses you put down on YOUR profiles?” The tow sweat nervously.

After an awkward moment of silence and tension, Lila speaks up. “Well, um, I put… grass…” The Rampaging Runways are not at all happy, as one can imagine. Lila draws back into herself, hanging her head in shame. “I’m sorry, guys…”

“Oh, you’ll be sorry,” Betsy mutters under her breath.

“Alfred, how about you?” Chip asks.

Alfred’s face is a bright red. The chef boy nervously tugs at his collar. “Um… pasta noodles…” The Killer Catwalks let out a loud gasp, while the Rampaging Runways, sans Lila, let out a sigh of relief upon the realization that they weren’t alone in their struggle.

Flutina suddenly tosses each team a map. “These are directions to your team’s work stations. Your fabrics and all constructions materials can be found there. You have exactly two hours to create the most groovy,”

“Stylish,” Chip cuts in.

“And sexy outfits possible!”

“At the end of the two hours, you will showcase your outfits to Flutina and I. Which means, you have to pick a model. Choose wisely; I suspect that presentation will be a huge tiebreaker in this challenge. Is everyone ready?” Everyone nods. “Oh, and one more thing: the losing team will be voting two of their own into tonight’s Fashion Face-Off, a challenge that will determine every elimination in this game.”

“Now on your marks… get set… and… Style!” The two hosts sing in harmony as the teams sprint off in separate directions.

The Killer Catwalks are the first to reach their work station. Aside from the twelve-foot tall, towering mountain of pasta noodle boxes, there are many construction supplies. “Well,” Heath says, “they don’t call it a challenge for nothing, eh?”

Vicky blinks. “Yep, we’re doomed.” Alfred gulps.

“It took you this long to figure that out?” Gretchen rolls her eyes, nonchalantly filing her nails.

Karen shakes her head. “Dudes, we’re not out of this yet. We just gotta think outside the box!”

“Karen is right!” Pietro declares confidently. “We should open the boxes first!” Pietro proceeds to snatch a box of noodles from the middle of the towering mountain. Said mountain begins to rumble rather violently, before promptly collapsing, burying the entire team in boxes upon boxes of pasta noodles.

Vicky is able to dig herself out of her noodle-y grave. “Well, if that wasn’t the epitome of brilliance…” The rest of the team slowly unearths themselves as well.

“Brainless fool!” Matilda shouts, hurling a box of noodles straight at Pietro’s head. He quickly ducks. “How did I get stuck on a team with such degenerates? Not as if it matters; these noodles are frailer than my old lady bones! We’re as good as five-day-old oatmeal!”

Pietro gives Matilda a stern look. “With that attitude, we might as well be!” Matilda growls and advances toward Pietro, only to be intercepted by Heath.

“Whoa, guys, calm!” Heath says, “It is way too early to be reaching your boiling point with each other.” All of a sudden, Alfred’s face lights up like he’s a kid in a candy shop.

“That’s it!” Alfred jumps up in joy. “Of course! How could I be so stupid?” He turns to his team, a wide smile across his face. His teammates all look slightly disturbed.

“Hey, Alf,” Pietro asks, “you okay?”

“No,” Karen answers, a proud smile forming on her face. “No he’s not.”

The scene cuts over to the Rampaging Runways, just now arriving at their station, where a giant mound of grass is waiting for them. Seeing the dejected looks on her team’s faces, Lila jumps to the front of the pack, taking charge.

“C’mon guys, it’s not so bad!” Lila says, “People have done this before! If we just work together, I bet we can get this done with time to spare!”

“Who said you got to be the leader?” Spence asks, adjusting his leather jacket and glaring at Lila over the brim of his sunglasses. He points an accusatory finger. “You got us into this mess!”

“Well, technically this could have happened to any one of us…” Lila says.

“Excuses my swooshes!” Spence says, stepping forward, mere inches between him and Lila. Lila and the rest of the team exchange glances in a futile effort to discern what he had just said. “I’m not taking orders from someone who’s already jeopardized our team on day one! I think someone else should lead; someone smart, someone--”

“Spence, do you want to be the leader?” Lila asks.

Spence is speechless for a brief second as he blinks at Lila. “...Yes,” he says, an uncharacteristically quiet tone to his voice. Lila can’t help but grin.

“All yours, bud!” She playfully slaps the bewildered Spence on the shoulder, before merrily joining the rest of the team. “At your service!”

“Are we allowed to object?” Travis whispers.

After a moment, Spence gives a triumphant smirk. “No,” he says, “now get to work!”

“We haven’t even decided what to do, yet,” Ramsey points out. Spence squints at him, quite menacingly.

“Don’t talk back to me.” Ramsey rolls his eyes.

The Killer Catwalks have taken it upon themselves to relocate their operation to an abandoned noodle shop, not too far from the town square. Alfred and Vicky are in the shop’s kitchen, cooking an obscene amount of noodles, while the rest of the team is out front weaving and molding the boiled noodles together, apparently hoping for a miracle.

“It took a totally meaningless series of events for us to realize that boiling the noodles was our best option?” Vicky asks no one in particular as she disinterestedly stirs a pot full of noodles. She slowly turns to Alfred, who is meticulously slaving over an even larger pot. After a moment of pure, silent judgement, Vicky turns back to her own pot.

All of a sudden, Gretchen kicks her way through the kitchen doors, carrying a gigantic pot of noodles with her. She drops the pot down on a nearby countertop before giving Alfred a piercing look. Alfred looks justifiably petrified.

“For the love of all that is chic, chef boy, get your head in the game!” Gretchen yells, “How many times do I have to tell you, we don’t want edible. We want usable. Strong! Rubber! Unbreakable!” The imposing girl slams her fist on the countertop. “Like the thing your parents forgot to--”

“Hey!” Alfred interrupts. “That’s a bit harsh…”

Gretchen makes a rather weak attempt to tame herself. “Answer the question! How many times do I have to say it. Noodles like this do nothing but waste everyone’s time! They’re useless.”

Alfred frowns. “They’re al dente.”

Gretchen slams her fist once again. “I’m about to al dente your face!” Alfred, eyes wide with terror, takes a few steps back from the counter. “Either pull your weight or pack your bags, because if we lose this challenge, you’re as good as gone!” With that, Gretchen storms back out of the kitchen.

Alfred groans, rhythmically banging his head on the counter. “She’s not wrong, you know,” Vicky says. Alfred bangs his head even louder.

The sun beats down over the island as the teams toil away, rushing to finish their outfits as time slowly ticks by. At the Rampaging Runways’ station, everyone is at work gluing and weaving bundles upon bundles of grass together. Everyone, that is, except Spence. He has taken to merely standing there and criticizing everyone’s work.

“Ramsey, you weave like an old lady in a nursery home. Who can’t weave!”

“For someone who likes grass so much, Lila, you sure haven’t touched much of it!”

“Betsy, do people down South not--”

“I reckon I’ll go for a walk!” Betsy interjects, jumping to her feet.

Spence’s jaw drops. “What do you think you’re doing?”

Betsy smirks and cracks her knuckles. “What’s that ther’, Spence? You wanna come with? Alrighty, then!” She grabs Spence’s jacket and effortlessly drags him off-screen, in spite of the leather lover’s violent, swear-ridden protests. Once Spence is out of earshot, the remaining members of the team let out a collective sigh of relief.

“My weaving is fabulous,” Ramsey grumbles. Chadd pats him on the back for moral support.

“Do you guys have any idea what that guy’s problem is?” Travis asks. “Ever since we got here he’s been trying to establish himself as the top dog, or something.”

“I think it’s just his personality.” Chadd says, “As if the tacky leather jacket isn’t enough of an indication that he’s stuck on himself…”

Lila laughs. “Actually, I think he may just have a crush on the bossy girl on the other team.”

Travis’s eyes practically bulge out of his head. “What? Gretchen?”

“That might be her name…” Lila blushes. “Sorry, I haven’t quite gotten everyone’s names down yet.”

Travis is notably perturbed. “That’s it then, we can’t have him goin’ all googly-eyed for the other team. We don’t know how far he’s willing to go for girls.” Travis’s audience all shoot him odd expressions concerning where he intends to take this conversation. “If we lose this challenge, we have to send him to the face-off.” He puts his hand in the middle of the group. “All in favor?”

Without much hesitation, Ramsey and Chadd throw their hands on top of Travis’s. Danni, who’s been day-dreaming this entire time, shrugs and throws her hand in as well. They all look at Lila, whose internal conflict is quite evident.

Lila (Confessional): Alliances aren’t really my thing. It’d be pretty weird if I tried spreading my message while simultaneously lying to people and betraying them. But I’m pretty sure this is just a one-time deal, right? I mean, Spence is kind of hostile, and I could see him being pretty difficult to live with down the road… I just really hope the competition doesn’t boil down to who's the best at deceiving others. That would be pretty depressing.

As Lila gives in and places her hand on top of the others’, a fairly loud screeching sound startles the team apart. Chip’s voice can be heard all around, presumably on some hidden speaker system. “Listen up, everyone! You’ve got exactly ten minutes left! Make your finishing touches, designate a model, and get ready to strut!”

“Your!” Flutina can be heard faintly in the background.

“Stuff!” The speaker cuts out. An awkward moment of silence overtakes the team.

Cut to a montage, complete with elevator music, of both teams frantically finishing their outfits, arguing about which contestants would make better models, and fumbling their way into town square. Eventually, the Rampaging Runways and Killer Catwalks are all gathered in front of Chip and Flutina, many of them gasping for air.

Chip starts things off. “Well, I’m sure it has been a dramatic two hours for both teams. But now, it’s time to determine the winner. Runways, who have you chosen to model your design?” Ramsey steps forward. “Great! And how about the Catwalks?” Heath emerges from the crowd, grinning widely. The Runways begin to protest, only to be immediately shut down.

“Ah, ah, ah!” Flutina says, “All is fair in love and war!”

“And fashion!” Chip flashes his smile at the camera.

Flutina claps her hands together. “Ramsey, Heath, go ahead and prepare yourselves.” The two models nod and walk off. “The rest of you, get ready to be the grooviest audience possible! Let’s go, Chip!” Flutina and Chip clap their hands together in perfect sync.

In a flash, the town square has been transformed. In the middle is a long runway, with a kiosk at the very end, where Chip and Flutina are seated. On one side of the runway is a set of bleachers, where the non-participants sit. As the contestants make their way onto the bleachers, insignificant chatter is made, most of it regarding Spence’s array of new bandages, courtesy of Betsy.

“So,” Karen says as she sits down next to Gretchen. “You must be, like, pretty stoked to see this.”

Gretchen shrugs. “Not really, no. I couldn’t give less a hoot about fashion. Fame and fortune are the only look for me, honey,” Karen’s eye widen in shock.

“Really?” She says, “Interesting…”

“Alright!” Chip booms over a microphone. “Time to get this show on the road! Will our first model please step out?”

On that cue, Ramsey steps out onto the runway, most of his frighteningly pale body on display for the whole world to see. The only thing he has on, in fact, is a pair of pants: made of grass. Most of Ramsey’s team cheers for his and he awkwardly makes his way down the runway, occasionally swaying his hips in an attempt to show his pants off.

“Wow!” Chip exclaims. “Just look at that body! It’s like his parents were two Clorox bottles!”

Flutina laughs. “Your teeth would be jealous!”

“That they are! But let’s not waste any time; let’s see our next model, Heath!”

Ramsey and the rest of the his team gasp as Heath makes his way to the stage, clad in nothing but a toga made of pasta noodles. As he takes his first step onto the runway, he stops. “No,” he says in yet another odd accent, running his hands through his unruly mess of blond hair. “Not Heath…” He takes another step. “Francesca Noodlebottom.” She begins to strut.

The Killer Catwalks cheer from the bleachers as Francesca begins to absolutely murder Ramsey at strutting. It gets to a point where Ramsey decides to give up and just dart to the end of the runway, fearing what would become of him should Francesca cross him.

“Francesca Noodlebottom, ladies and gentlemen!” Flutina exclaims as the queen finishes her strut, striking a fierce, over-the-top pose. With this pose, however, disaster strikes. Francesca’s toga completely falls apart, sliding off her body into a pile of gross, sweaty noodles at her feet. The crowd gasps, Ramsey shields his eyes, and Heath covers himself in embarrassment.

Chip flinches. “Ooh… What an unfortunate series of events…”

“Aw,” Flutina pouts.

“Teams were to be graded on both design and presentation,” Chip explains. “And seeing as the Catwalks’ design is now a steaming pile of disgusting… I guess that means that the Rampaging Runways win!” The Runways all burst into celebration, while the Catwalks are dumbfounded. Many teammates give Alfred furious and/or disappointed looks.

“Al dente!” Gretchen growls, stomping off the bleachers.

Alfred hangs his head in shame as his teammates exit off the bleachers. Karen, however, decides to join him. “Cheer up, Alf,” she says, “at least you tried, right?”

Alfred shrugs. “I guess. But I’m still going home…”

“Dude, actually,” Karen says, “I think I have an idea…” Alfred gives Karen a puzzled look.

Time elapses and soon enough, it is nighttime on the island. The town square is back to normal, and the Rampaging Runways have retired to the Hotel de Couture. The Killer Catwalks stand in front of Chip and Flutina, both of whom are holding an envelope and displaying gleeful smiles. “Welcome to the very first Fashion Face-Off of the season!” Chip exclaims. “As retribution for losing today’s challenge, however narrowly, you have been tasked with voting two of your own into battle. Flutina and I will each reveal the name of one of tonight’s participants.”

“Whoever wins stays alive,” Flutina continues, “while the loser will be forced to return home to their mundane, far less fashionable lives.” Chip and Flutina both shed a tear over this fact. The Killer Catwalks all roll their eyes at the hosts’ melodrama.

“And now,” Chip says, “it is time to name our participants!” He rips his envelope open, pulling out a single card. “Our first participant…” Chip flips the card towards the Catwalks. “Alfred!” The chef boy sighs, stepping forward. Without missing a beat, Flutina seamlessly tears her envelope open.

“Joining him will be…” she flips the card. “Gretchen!” Most of the team is visibly shocked.

“Wh-...What?” Gretchen asks, her eye twitching uncontrollably. Karen gives a soft smile. “This can’t be right! Why would anyone vote for me? I am the strongest person on this team!”

Chip smirks. “I’m glad you said that. Because right now it’s time for you to put up, or shut up!” Gretchen scowls as Chip and Flutina claps their hands in some weird pattern, triggering a poof of smoke not too far behind them. When the smoke clears, a pile of designer dresses has appeared. The contestants are too tired to really be shocked.

“This face-off will take all of, oh, five minutes.” Flutina says, “On our go, Alfred and Gretchen will race to the pile of dresses and putting on as many dresses as possible.”

“At the end of five minutes, whoever has more dresses on wins the face-off and the right to stay on the island. Simple enough?” Alfred nods, while Gretchen just grumbles to herself about not losing her shot at fame and glamour to a useless runt. “Alright. On your marks, get set…”

Flutina joins Chip in singing, “Go!”

Thanks to Alfred’s comically short legs, Gretchen makes it to the pile first. She picks up a yellow dress. “Ha, not in a million years!” She casts the dress aside. As Gretchen spends her time being picky, Alfred catches up to her. Gretchen glares at Alfred, and the two begin to throw on dresses of every color, size, and fabric. The rest of the team has advanced in order to watch the match closer. For much of the competition, the two look to be dead-even.

Chip glances at his wrist, where there is no watch to be found. “About three minutes have passed by now, wouldn’t you say, Flutina?”

“Of course!” Flutina agrees.

As time quickly runs out, it becomes harder for the either of the participants to move with so much weight surrounding them. In a bout of desperation, or just an attempt at humiliation, Gretchen takes to snatching dresses right from Alfred’s grasp. Just as the two are playing tug-of-war with a gaudy pink-and-green dress, a buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the face-off.

Gretchen releases the dress, sending Alfred flying back. “Twerp,” she mutters.

“Time to get a count,”Chips says. He produces a walkie-talkie and speaks into it. “This is Chip McCaz-- please deploy the A-team.”

All of a sudden, a group of highly trained interns pounces on the scene, grabbing both both Gretchen and Alfred and quickly removing each and every dress from their bodies, tossing the two aside like rag dolls once done. The grunt back and forth as they count up Alfred and Gretchen’s totals. As they finish, they report their findings to Chip and vanish from the scene. Chip quickly fills in Flutina, who gasps at the results and nods.

“Well, we have our verdict!” Flutina announces. “By a narrow count of twenty eight to twenty-five dresses, the first person eliminated from the competition is…

.

.

.

.

.

...Gretchen!” Every single member of the team is completely dumbfounded.

“What?!” Gretchen screeches. “No! This was not what was supposed to happen!”

Karen runs up to embrace Alfred. “Dude, you did it!” Gretchen grits her teeth.

“You…”

Before any sort of confrontation between the newly-dethroned queen and the nudist can occur, Chip intervenes. “Gretchen, it’s time for you to go.”

Gretchen folds her arms and scoffs. “Fine. Whatever. I’ll just become a social media queen. Who cares about these dumb fashion shows anyway?!” She storms off down the path which the contestants took when they first arrived, towards the island’s dock. Pietro and Heath join Karen congratulating Alfred on his victory, while Matilda simply gives an old-lady grunt and Vicky shrugs.

“Well,” Flutina says, joining Chip in front of the camera. “That’s a wrap on our first ever elimination! And quite a shock, wouldn’t you agree, Chip?”

Chip shrugs. “Something tells me the viewers expected it.” Flutina frowns. Chip bursts into laughter. “Ha! Please! Nobody saw that one coming!” The hosts laugh together. “Well,” Chip says, “that’s all for this episode. Tune in next time for the dramatic continuation of... Easy!”

“Breezy!” Flutina winks.

“BEAUTIFUL!” The scene fades to black.

Chapter 03: One Ring to Rule Them All
Coming Sunday, November 8th!

Chapter 04: TBA
Coming less soon

Elimination Table
Key: Name: This contestant was on the Killer Catwalks team. Name: This contestant was on the Rampaging Runways team. WIN: This contestant won immunity for this episode. SAFE: This contestant did not get enough votes to be sent to the Fashion Face-Off. WIN: This contestant was the winner of this episode's Fashion Face-Off. OUT: This contestant was the loser of this episode's Fashion Face-Off and eliminated from the game.

Trivia

 * The title is obviously a reference to CoverGirl's iconic slogan.
 * The story's concept was thought of on a whim; I decided to run with it.
 * Alfred was inspired by cooking competitions, another obscure sub-genre of reality TV.
 * Gretchen is basically Helen only better...
 * Karen's character was inspired by Hali Ford from Survivor: Worlds Apart.
 * Pietro is named after Pietro Maximoff, a.k.a. Quicksilver, from the Marvel Universe.
 * Ramsey is based off fellow wiki user Avery FireFlame.
 * Spence is based off a particularly charming person I know in real life.
 * Travis is a parody of many reality shows' tendency to cast people solely for sex appeal.
 * Chip and Flutina were created on the spot as I began to write the first chapter. Over the course of writing their introductory performance, I created their personalities and plots for the story.
 * During the second chapter's challenge, Heath's pronouns briefly switch to feminine when he becomes Francesca Noodlebottom. This is meant to reflect common practice in the Drag community, where most, but not all, drag queens prefer the use of feminine pronouns when in character. This will only happen whenever a character of Heath's is given a name, so as to prevent confusion.
 * The third chapter's title is an obvious reference to the Lord of the Rings trilogy.