There is some language or violence that may not be appropriate for people under thirteen years of age.
Four years after the resounding success(?) of Total Drama: Superstar Showdown, Chris McLean is out of work and none of the former contestants from the Toad-al Drama franchise want anything to do with him. Craving more drama, he decides to rent out an absurdly expensive lakeside club 45 minutes north of Revolution City, round up 16 new young adults from every corner of North America, and make them partake in yet another competition for $1,000,000. Between the grueling challenges, the strong personalities, and Chris being more burnt out than ever, Total Drama Lakeside is sure to be an eventful coda to the Toad-al Drama series.
Chapter 1 - Lake Meet Arrive
The evening skyline of an expansive, familiar-looking city resting beside a lake comes into view. As the camera zooms through the south side, the bustling downtown, and then the northern suburbs, the city eventually fades out and the tall urban setting is replaced with greenery, suburban mansions, European-style architecture, and beaches. It finally settles on a group of large, mostly residential buildings by the lake, surrounded by rows of houses, small shops, and the city plaza.
“We’re coming at you live, 20 miles north of Revolution City!” shouts a graying, mildly wrinkly Chris McLean, popping into view in a grassy field with the lake right behind it. “After an… extended and not-quite-voluntary hiatus, the drama has returned, and we’re about to follow 16 new hopefuls on one final chance to win a million-dollar prize! One of the thousands of colleges around here, don’t care which one, has rented a few buildings out for us to use this summer… including their country club! Yeah, this is gonna be awesome.”
Chef Hatchet walks up in a tightly-fitting Speedo and water wings. “I was born ready,” he grunts.
“These 16 contestants are currently taking the metro up from downtown Revolution City, and upon arrival they’ll be thrust immediately into the drama. Trust me, we’ve got a pretty intense cast this time around, and I don’t know if all of these guys passed the psych evaluation,” continues Chris.
“What psych evaluation?” asks a confused Chef.
“Yeah, uh, we’ll edit this intro later,” says Chris. “Anyway, they’ll be staying in dorms revamped entirely for Total Drama purposes, meaning they’re in peak physical condition, and competing in challenges around here, on the beach, and everywhere in between! Chef’s a certified bus driver, so if we’re feeling especially dramatic, we may even go into the city! I feel like we didn’t use that place to its full potential last time, so I’m tempted to make up for that.” He grins evilly. “After the usual routine, only one will remain to claim the million-dollar prize, and in this day and age, that’s gotta be looking extra pretty. When we come back, we’ll get our first taste of the contestants! Gear up for more action, more drama, and more gratuitous beach shots, right here on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
After the theme song is over, Chris’s voice is heard over shots of the metro traveling through the city. “It looks like our first four are officially in transit! Let’s get to know them, shall we?”
A massive red-headed man with a fedora, a graphic tee depicting a cartoon pony, and a thick neckbeard stares out into space while chomping loudly on a bag of chips. Sitting right next to him, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else, is a tall, tan blonde boy with a prominent jaw and preppy clothing who’s listening to loud rap music.
“Yo, uh…” says the prep, taking off his headphones.
“No, you CANNOT have a chip! I spent over a dollar on these, and they will all be going into my mouth!” snarls the fedora-clad redhead.
The prep stares at him, wide-eyed. “No, I was just saying, bro, could you scoot like four inches to the left? You’re getting all up in my stuff.”
“Hmph,” he snorts. “Well, I suppose.” He begrudgingly moves to the side.
“Ugh!” shouts the neckbeard, named Boris, in the confessional. “I cannot believe that those filthy Chads are following me to the ends of the earth! All I wanted was to join this series, woo some fine damsels, and showcase to the world what a nice guy I truly am, but of course I have to be showed up by some Neanderthal within mere seconds. No worries, though, he will see… They will all see.”
“Man, I dunno what that guy’s problem is,” says the preppy boy, Christian, who’s next in the confessional. “I mean, I get it if he’s jealous of my glistening bronze tan, or my fluffy blonde locks, or my outfit which I got all by myself without dad’s cash. But the thing is, most people are. He’s just gotta tone it down a notch.”
Up further a few seats, a short blonde is seen giggling to herself, then taking various photos of herself and the landscape with her phone. Sitting in the seat across from her is a curly-haired brunette with a jean jacket, who’s listening to classical music and typing something up rapidly on her laptop.
The blonde pauses from her photo shoot. “I love your jacket!” she says across the aisle. “Where’d you get it? You’re really slaying that look.”
“Huh?” asks the other girl, in a surprisingly deep voice. “Hang on, sorry, trying to concentrate on this.” She resumes typing rapidly.
“Oh no, girl, I totally understand. I had to go through my sorority’s applicant list last semester, and it was like 20,000 pages long,” says the blonde.
“Whoa, my condolences,” says the brunette. “This is a grad school application. Third one of the afternoon.” She laughs uncomfortably.
“No way! I’d love to go to grad school!” responds the blonde. “I just think it’s so cool that you’re so passionate about academics.” The other girl says nothing. “Hey, want to be in this photo?” She nudges her way in and takes a selfie with the brunette, beaming wide.
“Can we retake that? Ohhhh boy, I look rough, I guess I’ve been sweating,” asks the brunette after a long pause.
“No, you look totally fine! I mean, skin’s a little moist, but this pic’ll be popping in an hour,” says the blonde.
The brunette smiles at her as her left eye slightly twitches, then goes back to her laptop.
“I guess I probably shouldn’t have signed up for this show with so much on my plate,” says Kelsey, the brunette. “But it’s time for a change. Last summer I interned in DC, the summer before that I was in China, and the summer before that I was at national debate team championships. This is gonna be a great decompressor, and if everyone else is as easy to deal with as that girl, it’ll be a breeze! I think!” She pauses. “I hope?”
“This is going to be awesome,” squeals Isabella, the blonde. “That girl reminds me of so many of my sisters, just total ride-or-die types. This place’s whole city-lake vibe is so exotic too! I’ve never seen anything like it. All I can compare it to is the pool in my backyard, and that has nowhere near the ‘gram potential.”
The metro pulls up to the station, where Chris McLean is now lying in wait. All four contestants exit the doors at varying speeds and walk down to Chris and Chef.
“And here come our first four contestants - Boris, Christian, Isabella, and Kelsey!” announces Chris.
“Hey man, hold this for a sec,” says Christian, walking up with a giant suitcase and throwing it directly at Chris.
Chef grabs the suitcase out of the way at the last minute, and grunts, “Nice cast, Chris.”
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” says Chris, walking up to the blonde. “You’re Christian, eh? When did I ever approve your casting? This already happened once before! My personal brand is going to take so many blows!”
“Uh, you can call me ‘Bleach Blaze’ instead, that’s my rap name,” says Christian, flexing unsubtly.
“...On second thought, Christian is totally fine,” shudders Chris.
“Your name is not Chad?!” Boris bellows. “Color me shocked! Truly!”
“Hey fedora bro, I’m sorry, I have legit zero idea what you’re talking about,” says Christian. Boris starts breathing heavily.
“I dated a guy named Chad once,” says Isabella to Kelsey. “He was pretty cute. Not really my type, though, he was waaaay too clingy. I ghosted him real quick.”
“Of course,” mutters Boris. “I should’ve expected Stacys of your caliber to reside here. Chris, this is rigged!”
“What? Rigged? I don’t want to ruin the game or anything,” says Isabella.
“Relaaaax, you’re fine,” says Chris. “If anything, I’ll be the one doing the rigging.”
Kelsey, still with her laptop out, clears her throat. “Hey guys, I hate to interrupt, but does anyone want to help me out here? I’m doing a philanthropy thing that goes toward a children’s hospital for cancer treatments, and if I raise the most funds I’ll be considered as the next president of our club next year.”
“Sorry, fresh outta money,” says Chris, and he and Chef giggle sinisterly.
“Cancer? The only cancer I recognize is modern feminism,” says Boris. “Women like you wielding power? Flabbergasting! Chad, are you not appalled she isn’t bowing down to you?”
“Uhhhh, actually I think it’s pretty hot,” says Christian.
Kelsey inches away from the two men. “Okay, thanks. I guess I’ll ask the next guys.”
Meanwhile, the next batch of four is en route, getting ready to arrive at the station. Sitting next to each other near the back are a small, paranoid-looking boy of Indian descent, who is wearing a fleece zip-up sweater yet visibly shivering, and a tall, lanky African-American man dressed in a fluffy hat and vibrant clothing.
“Dude, I’m telling you, you gotta move! You’re too close! So many life-threatening substances can be transmitted just by sitting next to each other!” stammers the shorter boy.
“Hm?” asks the taller one, flipping through a tabloid magazine. “Oh Kylie, hun, what are you doing? Not a good look…”
“All right, that’s it, I gotta go take a walk,” says the shorter boy, standing up.
The taller man looks up from his tabloid, seemingly noticing his seatmate for the first time. “Oh, hey sis, who’re you?”
“I don’t think I can disclose that info… It could go anywhere! Like, to the government! I don’t mess with that kind of stuff, man!” says the other guy.
“Are you competing on Total Drama?” asks the tall man. “Because you do know that you’re being broadcasted to the world right now, honey? Anyway, I’m Kingsley. You’ve probably heard of me.”
“Kingsley? Okay, that doesn’t sound TOO suspicious… I’m Suvir,” he responds. “Gotta keep your allies close in case of an emergency!”
“Yeah, um, sure?” says Kingsley. “You’re reeeeal funny.”
“That guy seems fine, a lot better than I was expecting, but I can’t let my guard down just yet!” says Suvir in the confessional. “Maybe ‘Kingsley’ is just an alias. I’ve heard too many stories about guys who’ll go around saying their name is ‘Joe’ or something but it’s actually, like, ‘Thaddeus Skullcrusher XIV.’ Scary stuff, man. If I’m gonna win this thing, I gotta stay cool, calm, and collected!” He takes a deep breath, then starts coughing.
“Hey fans, welcome baaaack!” says Kingsley in a singsong voice. “Let me tell you something dramatic that just happened to me. I was HARASSED on public transportation. This, like, totally weird guy came up to me and started rambling on about stuff I did NOT care about, and I was like ‘girl, this is NOT worth my time at all,’ but he just kept going! He needs to take, like, 5,000 chill pills.” For some reason, a studio audience is heard laughing.
Two girls are sitting a few rows ahead of Kingsley and Suvir, one of them a slender Latina girl wearing a bright red jacket and holding a notepad and newspaper, and the other a petite Chinese girl, who is staring out the window, listening to music, and looking relatively hostile.
“She’s not very approachable,” the Latina mutters, jotting down notes rapidly. “Hiding something, maybe? Hopefully something juicy.”
The other girl takes one earbud out. “Did you say something?”
“Oh no, I didn’t mean any harm at all,” says the journalist. “I’m sorry! I was writing about science or something.”
“Huh? Do I look angry? I’m not, trust me,” the shorter girl smiles. “Sometimes it comes off that way.”
“Ha, yeah…” says the journalist, and the other girl puts her earbuds back in. “Nice save, Frances. Okay, she’s obviously suppressing certain parts of her personality. Hmm…”
“Five minutes in, and I can already tell this place is going to be rife with potential stories,” says Frances in the confessional. “Sometimes I scare people off pretty quickly when I get too excited about journalism, so it’s all about making myself look as chill and detached as possible. After all, the best stories come from sneaky and astute observation.”
“My whole life has been a struggle with resting bitch face,” says Erica. “I mean, when I was younger, it matched my personality pretty well, but now I’m looking to grow up a bit, you know? I don’t like that girl who sat next to me, but I feel like maybe I should. If I just go in not wanting to be friends with anyone and complaining the whole time, I’ll be gone immediately.” She pauses. “But I don’t LIKE her.”
“Here’s our next four!” says Chris, as the train car pulls up to the station and the four walk out. “Erica, Frances, Kingsley, and Suvir. How’s THAT for a ‘diversity quota,’ TVS?”
“Uhhh, Chris,” mutters Chef.
“Chiiiill, I said we were going to edit this later,” snaps Chris.
“Hello, everyone,” says Frances, with her notepad out. “Good to see a solid group forming, if I could get a quote from someone about being here that’d be great…”
“Well, hey,” says Kelsey, walking up to her. “I’ve been on the front page of my college newspaper 14 times. So basically, I think it—”
“You have?! No way,” interjects Isabella. “Did you get to do a photoshoot? I did one of those last week with my friends up at my cottage.”
“No, uh, I was most recently quoted discussing the lack of practicality apparent in the school’s new funding for some gym building nobody’s going to use,” Kelsey says. “And the time before that, I was talking about my experiences abroad—”
“Abroad? Did you go to Spain? I’d love to go to Spain,” gushes Isabella.
“Good material, guys, keep it coming,” says Frances, frantically jotting down notes.
Suvir tiptoes over to Christian, who is juuling. “Dude, what’re you doing?!”
“You talking to me? What’s up?” asks Christian, and he holds out his fist. “You tryna bump it?”
Upon seeing Christian’s extended fist, Suvir jumps back and yowls in fear. “No, man, I ain’t touching you! I bet you didn’t know dihydroxyacetone contains the same chemicals they use in toxic glue, and if your skin comes in contact with enough fake tanner, you’ll drop dead!”
“Huh?” says Christian. “This is all real tan. We can play some ultimate on the beach tomorrow morning so you can catch up to me.”
“Don’t listen to him,” says Boris, materializing out of nowhere. “Trust me. All he wants to do is get you out in a public location where your pale, doughy body will be visible to hordes of beachgoers, and then you will be humiliated for eternity!”
“Bruh, are you on crack or something?" asks Christian.
“Talk to me when you are interested in more sophisticated activities, like Luncheons & Laggins,” snorts Boris.
Suvir begins to sweat, then utters a small yelp and runs away from the two, hiding behind Kingsley.
“Wow, gorgeous top,” says Kingsley, excitedly chatting with Erica. “You’d totally fit in on my weekly style vlog.”
Erica laughs cheerfully. “Thanks! I got it on sale a few weeks back, I’m in love with it.”
“That guy’s fashion sense scares me,” says Erica. “And he thinks my top is nice?! Shame, I’m going to have to burn it tomorrow morning. Did I even pack extra clothes?”
“What do you mean they were on the same train, just one car back?” Chris says, talking into a headset. “You’re telling me they already got off? Then why didn’t we pan in and do the whole dramatic intro thing?! Ruined everything! Yeesh!”
“Ahem,” says a female voice.
Chris looks behind him to see four more contestants - a rustic-looking Southern gent with poofy hair, a squat, grinning boy with a strong resemblance to a past contestant, a scowling woman with dyed grey hair and fashionable clothing, and a tall, awkward-looking blonde who resembles a giant avian - waiting at the train stop.
“We’ve been here for like 15 minutes,” says the grey-haired woman.
Chris glares at Chef, who says, “Don’t look at me, I was responsible for none of this.”
“Okay, well,” continues Chris, after a long pause. “Looks like we’re going back to how we used to do it, one-by-one! Ladies and gentlemen, this is, uh…” he fumbles with a few notecards, “Rhett!”
The Southern boy comes down from the station and smiles a toothy grin at Chris. “Yer Chris, huh? Wowie! Ah’m in the presence of a real-life celebrity!”
“Okay, now we’re talking. More contestants like you, please,” says a flattered Chris.
“Yeah, I saw you in that one show on cable, y’know? Th’ one where you were naked, servin’ waffles, righ’?” Rhett guffaws. “Funniest thing I ever seen!”
Chris looks horrified. “I take back my previous statement. Go talk to the others.”
“His career has taken such a downturn that he has to resort to cameo appearances in mediocre prime-time comedies? Good content, but yikes,” says Frances with her notepad out.
“Yeah, maybe he’ll realize reality TV hosting isn’t a sustainable career and will leave you broke and depressed, you know?” adds Kelsey.
“Only way I’d ever watch that show is if I was 20 beers in,” says Christian.
“20 beers?!” exclaims Rhett, popping up out of nowhere. “Didja say 20 beers? Haw, that’s nothin’!”
“You’re funny!” says Isabella. “Do you, like, get really drunk and ride horses and stuff?”
“Naw, man, I ride horses ev’ry time o’ the day,” says Rhett. “Ain’t gotta be liquored up.”
“All these big ‘n tall buildings are freakin’ me out, man!” says Rhett in the confessional. “And th’ lake? It’s so clear an’ blue! Alls we got down south is th’ bayou. It’s all slimy an’ gross, an’ there’s gators down there, I don’t mess with that kinda stuff! This is a breath o’ fresh air!”
The squat, penguin-shaped guy and the tall, gray-haired woman walk down towards the emerging group, seemingly in the midst of some sort of intense argument.
“Perfect timing!” exclaims Roald. “Yo, guys, settle this. Whitney here says I don’t have any athletic skills! Insanity, right?”
“Look, dude, you’re misquoting me,” says Whitney flatly. “I just said your body spray was overpowering, I could smell it from seven seats away.”
Roald’s scowl twists into a giant, goofy grin. “Haha! That’s what I like to hear! My ‘Pineapple Breeze’ gives me a natural yet exotic musk!”
“I wish I was born without a sense of smell, then,” says Whitney, rolling her eyes.
“Um, sis,” says Kingsley, touching Roald’s shoulder. “Is it just me, or do you look… flabby?”
“Rookie mistake, king man!” says Roald. “My body is fine-tuned with the most solid, rippling muscles on the planet!”
“Not even gonna ask how you know my name, buuuuut I don’t buy it,” purrs Kingsley.
“Don’t buy it, huh? Right now I’m doing squat thrusts at such a speedy pace they’re invisible to the naked eye,” says Roald. “Jealous? I bet!”
Whitney walks over to the collective of girls starting to form. “I’m going to pretend the last 20 minutes didn’t happen and start fresh. Hi, I’m Whitney.” She takes out a fashion magazine and starts reading.
“That shirt is soooo stylish!” says Isabella. “Get it at Suburban Dressers?”
“Oh, save it,” says Whitney, not looking up from her magazine.
Isabella gasps slightly and turns to Erica and Kelsey. “That was beyond rude, I’m going to tweet about it. Give it a like once I post it, okay?”
“There’s only one reason I came on this show, and it’s to win,” says Whitney. “My brother was on like 5,000 years ago and did really well, and his life has improved a ton since then. Plus I’m older, prettier, and more sophisticated than him, so really, what’s stopping me from achieving the same success?”
“Man, I can’t wait to see how I look on TV! I hope they showcase all the spots where my muscles bulge out the most,” gushes Roald. “I was gonna try and lay low for the first few days, but that Whitney really brought out the fire within! Only reason I was bantering with her so much? She’s a cutie! Boo-yah!”
“Is it my turn now?” asks the tall blonde woman, standing uncomfortably close to Chris.
“Yes, Kaitlin, it’s your turn. Thanks for reminding me for the fifth time,” says Chris. “Everyone, this is… Kaitlin.”
She faces the camera. “Hmm, not loving this angle. Can you turn maybe three inches to the right?” The camera inches to the right. “Wait, now that’s just unflattering. Left a little?” It moves to the left. “Okay, there we go.” She turns to the other contestants and greets them. “Sup, boners?”
“Hello!” says Erica, forcing a wide smile.
“Something off about her for sure. She’s a narc. Calling it now!” says Suvir under his breath.
“Hmmm, you think so? Keep the observations coming, maybe I could get somewhere with that,” says Frances.
“Wow, warm reception,” says Kaitlin, facing everyone. “Maybe I wasn’t ‘upfront’ enough. Yeah, okay, I know what the deal is. Take two.”
“What is she…” begins Whitney.
Kaitlin clears her throat. “Sup, boners?” she repeats. Then, after a slight delay, she falls flat on her face out of nowhere. She stays lying face down on the ground for a few seconds, then gets back up like it was nothing. “Oh, there I go again, clumsy old me, huh? Gosh diddly darn!”
“I’m real uncomfortable,” says Christian quietly. “Maybe if she kept her mouth shut, and wore a bikini or something, I’d be more on board.”
“What was that, you bleached asshole?” Kaitlin snaps. “Don’t think I didn’t hear you. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” She takes a beer bottle out from her purse and takes a swig of it.
Boris’s eyes well up to the size of an anime character’s. “M’lady! You look like a level 43 Stymphalian Warrior Goddess,” he says, rushing up to Kaitlin.
“Warrior goddess, hmm? Okay, I like that, keep talking,” she says, flipping her hair back.
“Yes! 50% female deity, 50% large predatory bird, 100% pure cuteness,” says Boris. Kaitlin’s eye twitches.
“I was totally willing to lap up that dork’s compliments, right up until that last part,” she grunts. “I came here to AVOID being compared to a bird for once in my life. Whatever, I get it. I’m tall, I’m bony, most ladies out there would kill for my body. And I’ll have the last laugh when my hilarious and charming personality makes it huge and I become the biggest star this goddamn show has ever seen.”
“Uh, Chris,” says Chef. “She went like three minutes over her intro time. We’re runnin’ late.”
“Oh, come ON!” shouts Chris. “Have I really lost that much mojo? Let me guess, we can’t do any more train scenes?”
“Well, I mean…” says Chef, pointing up to the station, where the remaining four contestants are standing and looking rather impatient.
Chris groans loudly. “Fine! Here’s our 13th contestant, I think… Miles.”
A tall, gangly, odd-looking young man with pink hair, a beanie, and overalls walks up to the group, trying to make himself look small. He is carrying multiple duffel bags and what looks like an electric guitar case.
“Uh, hi,” he says in a soft voice, taking out an e-cigarette from his pocket.
“Broooooooo,” says Christian, his eyes wide. “What model is that? It looks sick! Mind letting your boy take a drag?”
“No, I need it,” says Miles. “It’s the only thing that takes the edge off.”
“Well, fine,” scoffs Christian. “Be that way, but it’s your loss. Christian out.” He walks to the edge of the group and puts his headphones back on, and the sound of explicit hip-hop is heard.
“Miles, right?” Frances says, walking over to him. “You look… different. Tell me—I mean us—about yourself.”
“I play music… sometimes,” he sighs. “I used to do it a lot more.”
“You got a banjo in that case? My uncle Gus is a pro at banjo-pickin’!” says Rhett, attempting to make conversation.
“No, it’s just a guitar…” says Miles. “My mind is in too much turmoil for banjo…”
“What, are banjoists less stressed out on average? Someone want to help me find a banjo, then?” asks Kelsey, giggling awkwardly. “It was a joke. Hey, help me out and sign this?”
Miles looks at Kelsey’s politely smiling face and then her laptop, which is opened to her fundraiser, and a single tear runs down his cheek. “Oh…”
“Something wrong?” asks an alarmed Kelsey. “Did my computer switch tabs? Oh god, I hope not. Sorry about that.” She closes her laptop and walks away.
“My friends told me I needed to do this show to get my mind off of Jacqueline,” Miles sighs deeply. “My ex. She liked it when I called her Jackie… but I guess that’s beside the point. We’ve been done for two years, but everything reminds me of her… That Kelsey girl’s smile just brought me back to those deep summer nights we’d spend together by the river… God, my life is a pit of despair.” He lets out a deep, mournful sigh.
“Chin up, brozinsky!” says Roald, patting Miles on the back forcefully. “Let’s do some crunches to lighten the mood!”
He immediately drops down onto the ground and starts to do crunches while sweating profusely.
“One! Two! Th-th-three!” gasps Roald, as Miles backs away.
“Here’s our next one, speaking of lightening the mood…” says Chris. “Say hello to Rachel!”
“Hello!” says the newly arrived girl, who has auburn hair, a septum piercing, and an intricately designed skirt. “That’s me, obviously.”
“Are those tiny elephants?!” Isabella says, rushing up to Rachel and examining her skirt. “This is gorgeous and I need to know where you got it.”
“I wish I could say I wove it myself, but I got it online forever ago,” says Rachel, walking past Isabella and stopping at Miles. “Do you play music?”
“Kinda,” says Miles, his pale face turning pink.
“Wonderful,” says Rachel, twirling her hair. “The plant life here is beautiful, you guys. Chris, what is this?” She holds up what looks like tall grass of some sort.
“Ask Chef, he’s the exp—” begins Chris.
“Are you on another form of ‘plant life?’” asks Whitney.
Rachel pauses, then laughs. “I like you! Isn’t this lake gorgeous too… I live by the ocean, which is nice, but this is nicer, for sure. Feels a lot more au naturale. Fewer tourists. Fewer guys like that.”
She glances at Christian, who is on the ground, shirtless, and sunbathing for some reason while continuing to listen to his loud rap music.
“You can join in any time you want, mama,” he says, patting the ground next to him.
“The lakeside is gorgeous,” says Rachel. “But I prefer rivers. Hey, guys, you can call me River if you’d like. Sometimes I get upset about how common my name is… I feel like rivers match my intensity, sometimes bubbling softly, sometimes rushing rapidly.” She sighs in happiness.
“I don’t really know how to address any of this, so I’ll just keep going, okay?” asks an antsy Chris.
“Smell this flower! Natural beauty makes me so thrilled,” says Rachel, waving a black-eyed susan around in Kaitlin’s face.
“I will jam that flower right up your nostril,” retorts Kaitlin.
“I haven’t found anyone yet who I feel a deep, spiritual connection with, but then again, I’ve only been here for like five seconds,” says Rachel. “I can already tell this place is special. It’s just got that magical energy that only the most sacred places on the planet can claim… I need to make the most out of this once-in-a-lifetime experience.”
“Salutations, Chris,” says a peculiar-looking young man. He has a bushy mustache and a bright blue hat on, and is dressed in a formal manner similar to a detective. He is only carrying one piece of luggage, a small brown trunk.
“Our fifteenth contestant, who really should’ve waited until I called his name…” says Chris. “Graham!”
“Hey!” yells Suvir, running up to him. “Are you a detective investigating recent alien abductions? Wait, no, are you a government plant? Wait, don’t answer that!” He immediately runs away.
“Oh no, I just like this style, I suppose?” says Graham. “Pleasure to meet you all.”
Chris side-eyes the conversation. “Why’re they talking about clothes so much? This is like the most boring episode ever. No drama, no intrigue!” he says to Chef.
“What’s with the face fluff? You look 80,” says Whitney to the newly arrived contestant.
Graham’s eyes turn wide. “I mean, I can shave it off if you’d like?”
“Huh? I didn’t—I mean—” says Whitney. “Did you think I was insulting you? I guess I wasn’t not insulting you, but…”
“I understand,” says Graham somewhat smugly. “I… guess I’ll keep walking.”
“He’s weird,” mumbles Isabella.
Graham continues to make his way through the crowd, but is stopped by a woman who seems to have just arrived. She’s very short, has thick dark brown hair and heavy makeup, and is wearing some sort of avant-garde cowboy outfit.
“Excuse me, who are you? I didn’t notice you... well, 30 seconds ago,” says Graham.
“Who am I?” she responds in a deep, sultry voice. “I’m just a small-town girl, who moved to the big city with big dreams…”
“Big city? Haha, I hate to burst your bubble, but we’re in the suburbs right now!” says Graham.
“Just to find out,” she continues, seemingly ‘in the zone.’ “The only way to make it in the big city… is to shake it. It’s what I do. I shake it.” She inches closer to Graham. “You wanna see me shake it?”
“I mean, maybe later?” stammers Graham. “I did just get here and all, you know?”
The woman laughs heartily. “‘Course you do. They all do. They all want to see me shake it.” Graham’s face starts to turn redder and redder.
“This is… bizarre,” comments Erica.
“Yeah, who does she think she is?” Kaitlin says. “Trying to steal my thunder, ha, loser. Method acting is so two centuries ago.”
“Well, I see you’ve all met our final contestant!” says Chris. “This is our performance artist, Arte—”
Chris is interrupted by a loud shriek, and everyone turns to see Artemis licking Christian’s face.
“I don’t know WHAT just happened, but I’m not about it!” he yells. “I just got my facial hair waxed yesterday!”
“Whatever,” says Artemis. “You’ll be ready soon enough.”
“Hey, I’m glad she deflected the attention off of me, I guess,” says Graham in the confessional. “She’s very pretty, I suppose, but something about that interaction was… weird. I feel drastically different from everyone else here, and I don’t just mean the mustache. My dream is to bond with my team so deeply that we can stay up all night talking and laughing, but I’m feeling scared already!”
“Chris told me I couldn’t do my intro naked,” says Artemis. “Yes, I’m bitter. However, if he thinks I’m going to go this entire show without incorporating any nudity into my performance, he’s mistaken. Too many beefcakes here to pass up an opportunity like that.”
“Okay, everyone, we’re almost done here,” says Chris. “Just have to do a few ‘housekeeping’ things beforehand.”
“Man, I’d love t’ keep a house!” says Rhett. “Farm life ain’t cuttin’ it lately.”
“In this economy? Same here,” says Chris. “Anyway, as I was saying, each team will get a run-down—I mean, newly renovated—dormitory to sleep in, one room for the guys, one room for the ladies! They’re right by the lake, so if you’re dying for a gorgeous view of the water, you’re in luck. Your first challenge will be, uh… tomorrow!”
“Chris, this is riveting and all, but what are our teams?” pipes up Whitney.
“Jeez, I can already tell you’re going to be a fun one,” grumbles Chris, as he unfurls the first team’s flag. “Here goes. Team #1 will consist of Artemis, Boris, Frances, Kaitlin, Rhett, Roald, Suvir, and Whitney, and your name is… the Artisanal Cheeses!”
Everyone stares blankly at the maroon-colored flag, decorated with a giant logo consisting of three large wheels of cheese.
“Listen, Chef and I did all the planning when we were out to dinner last night, cut us some slack,” says Chris.
Suddenly, Roald breaks the silence. “Whoooooooooo! Go Cheeses! That’s what I’m talkin’ about!” He rips both his coat and shirt off, swings them around in the air, then drops to the ground and starts doing clap push-ups.
“Aw, come on, I’m vegan!” protests Suvir. “You guys have no idea what sorts of chemicals they put in cheeses, I swear, they can control your mind.”
“If you have not enjoyed a fine bag of Doritos, you are not a true gentleman!” says Boris.
“No, Chris, it’s fine,” says Frances. “We like artisanal cheese… right, guys?” Nobody says anything, and the Artisanal Cheeses all start to make their way to their dorm.
“Sure, whatever, we’re almost done anyway,” says Chris, now unfurling a deep purple flag. “Now, Team #2 will consist of Christian, Erica, Graham, Isabella, Kelsey, Kingsley, Miles, and Rachel, and you guys will be known as… the Killer Wildcats!”
Kingsley’s eyes begin to water. “That shade of purple… GLAM. My wig is in orbit.”
“Are you kidding me?” snaps Kaitlin, walking back towards Chris. “They get a cool name, and we’re dairy-based?!”
“Kaitlin, get out of the frame, okay?” says Chris through his teeth. Kaitlin stares into the camera one more time, smiles wide, then leaves.
“I mean, the name’s not that cool,” says Kelsey. “Wildcats don’t even live in North America.”
“Yeah, what does any of this have to do with lakes?” adds Erica.
“And if those guys are the Cheeses, shouldn’t we be like the ‘Wacky Wines?’” Graham says. “That’d be so classy, too!”
“All valid complaints,” shrugs Chris. “However, I don’t care! We picked the name because it sounded cool.”
“Can’t argue with that, I LOVE cats!” says Isabella. “But I’m such a dog person!”
Chris hands Kelsey the flag, which has an aggressive-looking feline as its logo. Before she can say anything, Christian grabs it out of her hands.
“Man, this goes so well with my tan,” he says. “You guys think you can, like, drape it over me after we win challenges?”
“Let’s, uh, move in first,” says Kelsey, walking to the dorm with the others. “Go ‘cats!” The Wildcats exit the frame, with Miles lagging slightly behind the rest of them.
“So there you have it!” says Chris, getting back into the center with Chef. “Our 16 teens have arrived, and if you ask me, things really started picking up by the end! It wasn’t nearly as boring as I had expected. Anyway, there’s going to be conflict, and drama, and romance, and really all the things you could ask from a show that’s been going on for over a decade. So tune in next time, where we’ll get to our first challenge and see which unlucky schmuck is voted off first, right here on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
Chapter 2 - You Snooze, You Lose... Literally
“Last time on Total Drama Lakeside!” begins Chris, who hasn’t moved at all since the previous episode ended. “We met our 16 contestants, watched them argue with each other for about 20 minutes, then did some pretty exciting introductory stuff. They were divided into two teams, the Artisanal Cheeses and the Killer Wildcats! Despite loads of complaints about my team names—I don’t get it, I think they’re both awesome—the two teams set off to their new dorms, where we’re gonna watch them get settled right now! Dear god, I just hope this time they talk about more interesting things than fundraisers and clothes and pineapple-scented body spray. I guess there’s only one way to find out whether they will, though, huh? You got it, that’s by tuning in right here, right now, on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
The Killer Wildcats open up the door to their dorm, which looks shockingly well-kept - two distinct rooms with an old-fashioned college aesthetic, featuring giant windows with the curtains down in either room.
“I can’t wait to see that lovely view Chris told us about,” swoons Rachel, as she opens the curtains in the girls’ room to see… a giant dumpster completely blocking the lake.
“Oh, gorgeous,” says Erica, setting her stuff down. “Really showcases the lake well.”
Isabella takes a selfie with the dumpster in the background. “Haha, I’m such trash!”
“Yeah, I’m not gonna say I didn’t expect that,” says Kelsey. “Okay, I’m in the bottom bunk here. If you guys don’t want to see my computer screen at three in the morning, I’d suggest moving to those other beds.”
“Are you going to be binging Webflicks?” asks Isabella. “Because I’ve got to join in.”
“Uhhhh, that sounds a lot more fun than ‘writing a thesis,’ I’ll go with yes,” says Kelsey.
Rachel somehow jumps from the floor all the way to her top bunk and lands on her back. “This bed! So soft,” she says. “Soooo soft.”
“Okay, so I think we’re like the cutest girl gang,” says Isabella. “Like, did you see those girls on the Cheeses? Weird, right? We’re so much more adorable! Let’s take a group photo. Ooh, can we get Kingsley to take it?”
Kingsley, on cue, pokes his head through the door. “Excuse me?”
“Take this photo of us! You can be in the next one if you want,” offers Isabella.
“Ummm, I’m good, but I’ll take the pic,” says Kingsley dryly. “Let’s just get this over with, I guess.”
The four girls get into a pose with their arms around each other, all smiling to some degree with Erica’s exaggerated smile being the biggest of all. Kingsley takes the photo, then hands Isabella’s phone back to her as she giggles happily.
“Okay, they better not be turning me into their ‘honorary fifth girl’ or whatever,” grumbles Kingsley in the confessional. “I mean, that’d be less of an issue if they all slayed as much as Erica, but truth is, she’s the only one I can vibe with. Sis is, like, me-level funny and stylish. The rest just don’t have what it takes.”
“The Killer Wildcats aren’t too bad so far,” says Kelsey optimistically. “The name reminds me of that one musical about basketball or whatever. Maybe Chris is a fan? I don’t blame him. Either way, I can be all chill and friendly with the others no problem, but when I get stressed out I sleepwalk, so that better not happen for everyone’s sake.”
The boys of the Wildcats are unpacking their belongings as well. Christian unzips his giant suitcase to reveal many polo shirts and neon-colored shorts, all matching perfectly.
“Okay, boys, we’re gonna have to do some male-on-male bonding if we want to dominate,” he announces. “Let’s start with some icebreakers!” He walks up to Kingsley. “Rachel, smash or pass?”
All three pause for a while. “Are you kidding me?” asks Kingsley.
“Oh! Right!” says Christian. “Not your thing! How ‘bout this? Me, smash or pass?”
“No homo, but that Kingsley dude is pretty hot,” says Christian. “I mean, I’m not saying I’d spoon with him in the middle of the night or anything, but I’m also not saying I wouldn’t.”
Miles unzips his small, trendy-looking backpack and takes out a Polaroid photo. It depicts a grinning brunette boy, who would be completely unrecognizable if not for his glasses, with his arm around a girl with wavy, dyed pink hair and winged eyeliner. He looks at it, sighs, then tapes it next to his bunk.
“So that’s the girl, huh? She’s beautiful!” says Graham.
Miles jumps up. “Uhhh, you weren’t supposed to see that.”
“You’re hanging it on the wall,” says Graham. “It’s going to be broadcasted to the entire Total Drama viewing audience very soon.”
“Fine, yeah, that’s Jackie,” mutters Miles. “We ended things two years ago, and ever since then my mind has been a swirling miasma of tears and suffering… I still see her in the face of every girl I talk to…”
“Young love is so heartwarming, yet heartbreaking,” says Graham with his hand on his chest. “My condolences, but I think the best thing to do would be—”
He looks over at Miles, who suddenly has his headphones on and is vaping, then shakes his head.
Meanwhile, the Artisanal Cheeses are also moving into their dorm and having just as eventful of a time.
“Gorgeous view, y’all. That dumpster’s really tyin’ it all together,” says Rhett, looking out his window. “Y’all ever been dumpster divin’?”
“Are you kidding me, man?! You could get ebola from that!” says Suvir.
“Aw shucks, I don’t want no ebola! S’actually my greatest fear,” says Rhett, looking frightened.
“That’s what I like to hear,” says Suvir. “Your third eye will soon be opened! Dude, want to bunk together?”
“I don’t see why not,” chirps Rhett, as he climbs onto the top bunk.
“Rhett could totally be an alien or something, and if he is I just became the stupidest schmuck in the universe, but I’m going with my gut on this one,” says Suvir. “He’s super non-threatening! Now, those two other guys… I’m scared already.”
“So that means I have to be with you, Mr. Muscles?” complains Boris.
Roald grins and slaps Boris on the back. “Get pumped, Bro-ris! We’re gonna be going through a workout regime so rigorous you’ll be sweating BLOOD!”
“Oh, please. I do not concern myself with trivial activities such as gym-going,” says Boris smugly.
“Then what do you wanna do? Play croquet? I’m a pro-quet at croquet!” says Roald, as he laughs hysterically at his own pun. Whitney winces from the other room.
“I do not wish to socialize with you, or any of you other Cro-Magnons,” says Boris. “I will be competing in this game as a solitary figure!”
“Huh? I didn’t mean to insult ya, b-b-buddy,” says Roald. “Just extendin’ an olive branch!”
“Well then, I scoff at your puny olive branch,” says Boris. He takes out what looks like a giant manga compilation and starts rifling through it.
“What’d I do to grind that guy’s gears so quickly?” asks Roald. “I was just tryin' to do some gym-induced bonding! Aw, barbells, I’m so awkward sometimes...”
“I know he’s just trying to make fun of me, I was not born yesterday!” says Boris angrily. “Maybe if he shared some of my more esoteric yet sophisticated interests, such as Japanese catgirl anime, I would be more likely to socialize. But that is obviously not the case.”
Kaitlin, who is chugging her fifth beer of the afternoon, slumps onto a bed in the other room. “Okay, this is my bed, if anyone tries to steal my bed they’re going to regret it.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t think anyone’s begging to sleep with you,” says Whitney with an eyebrow raised.
“You know what? I didn’t come here to be victimized,” snaps Kaitlin.
“Look, I’d rather sleep with Artemis,” says Whitney. “Which is saying a lot.”
Artemis walks up to Whitney and pinches her cheeks. “Who wouldn’t rather sleep with Artemis?” she purrs. “You’ll have a front-row seat to exciting and sensual late-night performances, some involving that dumpster outside.”
Whitney blinks. “Never mind.” She walks over to Frances and sets her belongings down right by her bunk.
“Hi, don’t worry, I’ll be the perfect bedmate,” assures Frances. “I probably won’t even be in here much. Gotta get out and about and do as much reporting as possible.”
“That does sound promising, but I’ll believe it when I see it,” says Whitney.
Artemis walks over to Kaitlin. “Hello,” she says. “You and I? We’re going to have all sorts of fun. I can teach you about interpretive—”
“Yeah, okay, fine,” says Kaitlin. “You do like acting. I think I can work with that, huh?”
“Sweet, sweet Kaitlin, I don’t just like acting,” says Artemis. “I THRIVE in the world of the theatre.” She inches closer to Kaitlin, who looks at her skeptically. “Wanna smoke some hash?”
“Not… really,” says Kaitlin.
“Whatever,” says Artemis. “I’ll be outside. I'mma go house some beef.”
“That Artemis is making me deeply uncomfortable, but I think that’s her goal here,” says Frances in the confessional. “The whole licking people’s faces thing was weird enough, but now I hear she’s brought illicit substances to the competition? I think it’s hilarious, but she better not get us disqualified…” She gasps. “That is, unless Chris TOLD her to do it to increase ratings. Now that’s a story!”.
“My team is a bunch of goddamn lunatics,” whines Kaitlin. “Seriously, with these bozos as my competition, how am I supposed to get any camera time?!”
Later that night, as the sun is beginning to set by the lake, the teams exit their cabins and head over to Chris and Chef.
“Greetings, lakemates!” Chris says, and everyone stares at him in bewilderment. “Oh, come on. I thought that’d be a fun, quirky name for you guys. You’re a quirky bunch, and…” Crickets chirp. “Okay, fine, do you want me to just explain the challenge?”
“Yeah, Chris, just… do that,” whispers Chef.
Chris rolls his eyes. “Well then! You may notice that we’re standing on a paved path that snakes around the lakeside for a mile or two, maybe five. Your first goal as teams is to run to the end of that path, loop around, then run back to me and Chef! The first team to get all their members back will win something crucial! Capisce?”
“Caposh!” says Roald.
“I’ll give you guys five minutes to do a team huddle or whatever, and then we’ll get started,” says Chris.
Immediately, the Killer Wildcats huddle up and attempt to strategize.
“Okay, everyone,” says Kelsey. “Do we want to run in one big block so nobody can pass us? Or do we want to just spread out and rely on our obviously superior athleticism to do the trick?”
“I’m so ready to just start running right now,” says Rachel. “I can’t wait to breathe in the lake’s crisp air.”
“Sure, that’s great and all, but we need a strategy, don’t we?” asks Kelsey.
“I dunno, let’s just wing it,” says Christian. “We’re hunks. We can run fast. Simple.”
“Yeah, I like what he’s saying!” says Erica. “I’ve done dance for ten years, this is nothing.”
“I’ve never ‘winged’ anything in my life!” says a visibly stressed Kelsey in the confessional. “This team and I definitely have some… creative differences, so maybe I’ll step back from the leader role? I’m not about to put that level of pressure on myself.”
Meanwhile, the Artisanal Cheeses are also attempting to strategize for the upcoming race, but their definition of strategizing seems to differ quite a bit.
“I don’t feel fit to run, guys,” says Kaitlin. “Like, I’m already woozy.”
“C’mon, Kaity-bo-baity!” says Roald. “If you believe, you can achieve!”
“Okay listen, penguin boy, I had a heart attack three years ago,” retorts Kaitlin. “I’ll walk at a leisurely pace, but that’s IT.”
“I will not run either!” says Boris. “If the Warrior Goddess can’t do it, then I certainly cannot! I will stay here and not get involved with this so-called ‘challenge.’”
“Aw, c’mon, y’all,” says Rhett. “It’s as easy as one-three-two!”
“Yo, big bro, I got this,” assures Roald, and he takes Boris aside. “So you know that big orange guy on the other team? How he’s all muscly and hot and stuff? The best way to just stick it to him is to go BEAST MODE in this race! You gotta beat him!”
“Hmm…” contemplates Boris. “A very enticing offer indeed.” He pauses and thinks for a second. “Okay, I suppose, but only so I can assert my masculine dominance!”
“AWESOME!” cheers Roald. “Yo, Chris, we’re ready!”
A few minutes later, the contestants are all lined up at the beginning of the sidewalk, while Chris is on the sidelines with Chef, holding a supposedly fake gun.
“Total Drama Lakeside’s first challenge will be underway in five… four… three… two…” he says. He then fires the gun, which is definitely not fake, and yells, “GO!”
Most of the contestants take off sprinting, and in the front of the pack is Suvir, running at a breakneck speed. The other contestants stare at him in awe, some even pausing completely.
“Hey, when you know the world’s out to get you, you gotta keep your mind and body sharp!” says Suvir. “I know organized sports are just a front so the government can get kids all buffed up and send ‘em to sweatshops, but did I run track five years to hone my skills? You BET!”
Chris takes out a lawn chair and some sort of alcoholic beverage, puts on a pair of sunglasses, and sits down. “Chef, this really is the life.”
Chef is reading a dense mystery novel written by a “Helga Schreiber.” He side-eyes Chris and asks, “Hm?”
“Yeah, now that those teens are gone for hopefully like an hour, we can just sit and relax and—” Chris looks up, and Suvir is already back, breathing heavily. “HOW?!”
“Bro, I got the reflexes of a speeding tiger!” he says.
Before Chris can say anything else, Rhett, Roald, Erica, Christian, Isabella, and Kelsey arrive in one giant pack.
“Whoooo, that was nothin’!” says Roald, who is wheezing and looks on the verge of fainting.
“That was really fun, and I’m not even a big runner,” grins Isabella, looking up at Christian, who smirks.
“It only just hit me when we were running together, but Christian is totally cute,” squeals Isabella. “He’s exactly my type. I know I didn’t come on here to find love, but now I almost feel like I gotta!”
Rachel arrives next with a fistful of cattails. “I’m going to weave a dress from these. I love crafting wirh organic materials birthed from our Earth mother!”
Graham shows up soon after, panting. “Hey guys, just a PSA: Miles is back there walking!”
“Walking? Are you kidding me?” Erica says. “We’ll lose!”
“Yeah, I kept trying to socialize with him,” reasons Graham. “He’s a kind-hearted soul deep down, but he doesn’t really seem to care about… anything!”
Whitney and Artemis then show up, carrying an unconscious Kaitlin with one of her arms around each of their shoulders.
“She passed out about a mile back,” says Artemis matter-of-factly. “Think she’s drunk. Blackout, maybe.”
“This wasn’t something I agreed to do, by the way,” adds Whitney. The two let go and Kaitlin falls to the ground.
“Hmm, maybe she wasn’t kidding when she said she'd had a heart attack…” says Chris. “I probably should’ve examined those med forms a bit more carefully.”
Kingsley and Frances walk up to the group, deep in conversation. “Wait, so you wrote an exposé and showed it to the whole school just because she pissed you off?” he gasps.
“Well, it was technically an ‘editorial piece,’” responds Frances. “But… yes.”
“Bless,” says Kingsley, clasping his hands together. “We love a vengeful queen.”
“Hmm, isn’t that girl on the other team?” asks Kelsey quietly, and Erica nods.
“Okay, so that leaves two contestants left still running,” says Chris. “Miles and Boris! I think?”
Christian points to the slight turn up ahead, where Miles is sluggishly walking around the bend. “Ayo, there he is! LET’S GOOOO MILES!”
“You can do it!” cheers Kelsey. “Think of something happy to motivate you, like cupcakes or something!”
Miles sighs and takes off his headphones. “There’s no purpose in running…” he says. “Just makes me feel sad and tired, and I’m always sad and tired anyway.”
“Where th’ heck is that tub o’ lard?” asks Rhett.
“Oh, he’s coming,” says Whitney dryly, and she points to something.
Sure enough, Boris is right behind Miles, trying to run but wheezing and drenched in sweat. Miles walks up to the finish line, shrugs weakly, then sits down next to the rest of his team. Boris finally arrives seconds later, then collapses onto the ground and starts moaning.
“That was… disappointing to watch,” says Chris. “Anyway, the Wildcats win the first portion of the challenge! Here’s your reward!” He tosses them a single cup of coffee, which Erica catches.
“Wait, that’s not the whole challenge?” she asks. “I don’t even like coffee!”
Chris and Chef look at each other, then giggle mischievously. “Everybody, come with us to the director’s pad, we’ve got a special surprise for you,” says Chris.
“Ugh, I already don’t like Chris at all,” says Erica. “I came here for the competition, and the manipulation, and the social politics! Not to watch some washed-up 45-year-old man screw with us all day.”
The contestants are gathered around Chris in the “director’s pad” - a small but nicely furnished house that looks inhabited by college students thanks to the giant couch, the TV, the liquor bottles strewn about everywhere, the empty pizza box on the countertop, and the various questionable posters hung up on the walls.
“Here’s the deal. I know everyone just got here earlier today, and you’re not ready to actually compete in a challenge or vote someone off, blah blah blah, whatever. So, I’m gonna take pity on you guys,” says Chris. “I’m throwing you a party!”
“You ain’t lyin’?!” Rhett exclaims.
“Not at all, my friend,” says Chris. “For one night only, Chef and I are letting you into our exclusive living space to party it up, get to know each other, all the works. There’s food, drinks, and karaoke… somewhere, and Chef will be bringing a surprise up in just a sec!”
Chef trudges in, pushing a giant keg. “Ain’t that the truth.”
“Whoooo boy, I don’t even wanna know what’s in there,” says Suvir.
“Fun and fancy, huh? This went over our budget by quite a bit, so don’t expect anything else like it,” says Chris. “Just putting that out there. Anyway, Chef and I will be upstairs if you need us, but I assume you won’t. And we won’t need you! Ha-ha! Happy partying!”
He and Chef walk away, giggling to each other once again once out of earshot.
Once the two get upstairs, Chris stops. “Let me just make some things clear,” he says in a hushed tone. “The Total Drama executive team is not responsible for any injuries, illnesses, or decapitations that may occur as a result of tonight. And besides, that keg is filled to the brim with non-alcoholic beer, so these kids don’t know what’s about to hit ‘em. Placebo effect, man!”
“Okay, there’s something reeeeally off about this,” says Frances back downstairs. “But I guess—”
A loud shriek is heard, and she glances over at Rhett and Roald who are already shirtless.
“My buddy Rhett’s about to do a KEG STAND!” yells Roald. “Aight Cheeses, let’s cheer him on!”
“I actually think I might’ve died during that race and gone to purgatory,” says Whitney.
“I’m a pro at chuggin’ down fluids,” boasts Rhett. “Once I even drank gasoline! Didn’t taste too great, but it went down nice n’ smooth, and how many dudes can say they done that?”
“Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug! Chug!” cheers Roald, holding up Rhett’s legs as he guzzles down the non-alcoholic beer. “C’mon, pals, cheer with me! Chug! Chug! Chug!”
Rhett utters a primal roar as he continues to chug the beer. Suvir looks at him with wide eyes, but Roald grins and keeps cheering. Suvir then slowly tries to back away towards the door and bumps into Frances.
“Whoa! Sorry!” he yelps.
“Oh, hey,” says Frances, who has her notepad out. “All good. You trying to escape too?”
“Yeah, there’s bad juju in there!” says Suvir. “Gotta go outside and take a breather, you wanna come?”
Frances nods, and the two walk out the door and onto the porch, where they take a seat on the doorstep.
“Okay, I’m trying to formulate a piece right now, specifically one about our teammates,” says Frances. “They’re really something else. It’s a journalist’s paradise in there.”
“Yeah, it’s intense!” says Suvir, his eyes widening. “Here’s what I think so far: everyone else is a paid actor and they’re observing me from afar and trying to trap me in their world, like that one movie I saw! Also, there’s no way everyone else is fully human. Short guy on our team? I bet he’s a genetically modified penguin. And those other two girls are definitely a wolf and an ostrich, right?!”
Frances’s mouth is hanging slightly ajar like a fish. “I…” she begins. “I don’t think I’ve ever gotten this much juicy material in one sitting before.”
“Whooo boy, there’s plenty more where that came from!” says Suvir. “Like, I’m pretty sure Chris McLean is a lizard person. Have you seen his weirdly smooth face and that evil grin? He totally got Slowtoxed up to hide his scales!”
“We’re really getting somewhere here,” says Frances, who's now beaming. “Okay, here’s my plan. I’m trying to lay low for these first few days and gather intel. Whitney and those two messy actress chicks were arguing earlier, right? Kept my lips super zipped.”
“That’s what you gotta do!” gasps Suvir. “Otherwise they’ll rope you into their weird cult!”
“Exaaaactly. Dude, you have some great ideas,” says Frances. “Want to be my associate editor?”
“Heck yeah, I do! You’re the only one with any common sense around here,” says Suvir, and the two high-five.
“This is exactly what I had hoped for!” says Frances in the confessional. “All afternoon, I was pretty nervous about having to do this alone, but Suvir is a perfect partner in crime. Sure, his methods of thinking are… unorthodox, but journalism in the modern era thrives on exaggeration. Just look at BumbleFeed.”
Back in the living room, Rhett is in the midst of yet another (or potentially still the first) keg stand, while Roald continues to cheer and Whitney looks on in horror.
“Chug! Chug! Chug!” whoops Roald, and Rhett grunts again.
The others glance at him as his legs start to wobble until he suddenly collapses onto the ground, unconscious. A loud dinging sound is heard, and the two team logos appear on the top of the screen with a “7” next to the Cheeses and an “8” next to the Wildcats.
Nobody says anything for a bit until a door swings open upstairs. Sure enough, only seconds later, Chris walks down with a cup of coffee.
“The hell is he doing here?” grumbles Kaitlin, who’s apparently conscious again.
“I see we’ve had our first victim!” laughs Chris. “You guys didn’t really think I’d let you off the hook that easy, did you? Nope, this is our first challenge!”
“So you’re telling us that five-mile ass haul was for nothing, dude?” asks Christian. “...Sick.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you’re familiar with Total Drama’s iconic first season, then you’re familiar with the Awake-A-Thon,” says Chris, and most of the contestants groan. “The goal is simple, stay awake as long as you can, and whoever can dodge sleeping for the longest wins the challenge for their team! We figured the running, the partying, and the beer would just loosen you guys up a bit, and it sure has! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got an episode of Catching Up With the Carcrashians to finish, so I’ll be upstairs. Nighty-night!” He smiles smugly, then leaves.
Artemis attempts to drag Rhett’s unconscious body onto the couch. “There, there,” she says. “You’ll be back and ruggedly handsome as ever in just a few.”
“Whoa, guys, Rhett went down swingin’!” says Roald. “I gotta break his record, someone hold me up!”
“Wait, no, that’s the worst idea you could possibly—” shouts Whitney.
Kingsley rushes over, grabs his legs, and Roald starts to chug. After not even five seconds, he falls backwards onto Kingsley and is knocked out cold.
“Had to snatch that opportunity,” says Kingsley, crawling out from under the fainted Roald. “Sorry not sorry!”
Over by the kitchen, the three non-Frances female members of the Artisanal Cheeses are standing awkwardly by each other and all seemingly avoiding a conversation.
“Okay, I don’t really want to engage with you two again, but we do have to stick together,” says Whitney, who’s reading a fashion magazine.
“Yeah, half our guys are down for the count, huh?” a once-again-drunk Kaitlin says. “Pfft. Pathetic. You’d think they could hold their beer better.”
“I’m not drinking tonight,” shrugs Artemis. “Gotta keep the mind and body fresh.”
“This party’s pretty lame anyway,” says Kaitlin. “Nothing interesting! No studs, nothing illegal going on, so I don’t care.”
“Mm, it certainly needs some spicing up,” says Artemis. “Guess I’ll take off my bra, blast my nips—”
“Okay, let’s hold off on that,” says Kaitlin. “Let’s just try to look cool, let the people come to us, you know?”
“I suppose,” responds Artemis, then she jerks her head violently and gasps. “Ooooh, hottie alert at 11 o’clock.”
Graham, holding the Wildcats’ cup of coffee, awkwardly walks up to Whitney as Kaitlin tries to avert her eyes and Artemis stares him down.
“Hey,” he says to Whitney. “I needed to get away from it all, you know?”
“Yeah, I do know,” she responds, and starts to walk in the opposite direction.
Graham starts to follow her as she keeps walking. “I’m sorry, I really just wanted to chat!” he calls out. “Shoot the breeze, you know?”
“Listen, dude, have we even talked before? Aren’t you on the other team?” Whitney asks skeptically.
“You do know me… kinda,” he says, blushing. “Earlier you asked me what was wrong with my mustache, then said I looked like an octogenarian. I wouldn’t forget that.”
“That’s an issue, because I already did forget it,” says Whitney. “I’m sorry, I’m not really gaining anything from this conversation.”
“Oh, I-I-I understand!” stutters Graham. “I guess I’ll go talk with… my teammates.” He winces. “See you around, I suppose?”
Whitney grunts slightly, then walks towards the bathroom. Suddenly, the bathroom door bursts open and a curtain of smoke comes billowing out. Boris, fully nude except for a towel wrapped around his waist, steps out and breathes a satisfied sigh.
“Ah, that was refreshing!” he proclaims. “My body has been given a 1up!”
As Whitney takes one look at the near-nude Boris, her eyes widen and she collapses onto the ground. A nearby Graham facepalms and walks away.
“Do I have a crush on Whitney?” he asks himself in the confessional. “Well, it’d be silly to say yes since I’ve known her for less than 12 hours and have traded maybe five sentences with her, but she’s wonderful! I know I come off as some sort of weirdo when I talk to her, so maybe I’ll just keep my mouth shut and write some poetry. She’s so beautiful in the abstract…”
The four female Killer Wildcats are visiting on the couch, each holding a red cup filled to the brim with beer.
“So guys, tell me about yourselves,” says Isabella. “Any boys here you think are cute?”
“Um, I actually have a boyfriend,” says Erica.
“Do you?!” exclaims Isabella, touching Erica’s shoulder. “That’s soooo romantic! Have you guys been dating for like five years? Did he get you a promise ring?”
Erica looks at Isabella, confused. “We’ve been dating for a year and a half. Ugh, he’s such a sweetie. I never really thought I was into guys like him, but I guess… I am.”
“Wow, a year and a half?” gasps Rachel. “That’s intense! I’m more of a one-to-two-month type of gal.”
“Oh, I totally get it,” says Erica. “I know tons of girls like that. Nothing but respect.”
“Mmmm, good,” nods Rachel. “I just… don’t like to be tied down, you know? I prefer to drift along with the wind. And usually I date angsty musicians, like that Miles guy.”
“Ew, you’re into Miles?” says Isabella. “He’s… weird.”
“Noooo, I never said I was INTO him, I just have experience with a lot of boys like that,” says Rachel. “They’re sweet. Misguided, but sweet.”
“Okay, I think that Christian guy is suuuuper cute,” chirps Isabella.
“Christian, really? He’s one of those classic athletic boys,” says Erica. “See, that’s the type of guy I used to like, but… not anymore.”
“So you guys all have experience, I take it?” Kelsey pipes in. “Ha, I don’t. Sometimes I wish I could go out there and date, but I do so much with my free time already. It’d be the straw that broke the camel’s back for sure.”
“You poor soul,” says Rachel. “Having someone to take in the regal majesty of the world with is always worth it.”
“Okay, like, no need to feel sorry for me,” laughs Kelsey. “It's a conscious choice. I’ll go to club formals with guys, but otherwise I wouldn’t want to put anyone through… me.”
“Yeah, drinking isn’t my favorite because it makes my emotions just spill out,” says Kelsey. “But I guess there are worse ways I could be spending my time. Like, I could be having a full-on sobbing breakdown in the library at 3:30 in the afternoon again.” She blinks. “Did I say again? I didn’t mean again. I meant… wow, that’d be a lot worse than getting drunk, wouldn’t it?”
“Kelsey, uh…” says Isabella. “I just wanted to know if you thought any boys here were cute. Didn’t want to talk about all those emotions and stuff.”
Kelsey looks at Isabella with an eyebrow raised, then Rachel pipes up. “Who wants to see my tattoos?” Rachel rolls up her jacket sleeve and shows off a tattoo of a giant purple feather on her shoulder. “I got this one last year. I just think feathers and I have so many similarities… floating around aimlessly, but carrying this serene beauty as well.”
“Love it,” says Kelsey dryly. “I’m sorry, uh… yeah, those are some cool tattoos, Rach.”
“Great! I just want us all to be as happy as possible,” says Isabella. “Don’t worry about boys, they’re not worth you. You’re so gorgeous.”
“...You two want to go for a walk or something?” Erica asks, unsubtly eyeing Rachel and Kelsey. The two nod, and begin to stand up.
“Wait! Guys!” says Isabella, rushing over to the TV. “Check out this karaoke! Want to do a round?”
Rachel is about to say something until Isabella turns on the machine, a ‘70s Europop number starts playing, and she begins to belt. “OHHHHHHH, YOOOOOOU CAN DAAAAAANCE—”
The other three leave quickly, and Isabella continues to sing. A wasted Christian carrying three empty red cups staggers up to her, and she turns around and gasps.
“Christian! Oh no, did you hear my singing?!” she yelps.
“Yeahhhhh baby, I did,” he says. “Yo, you and me, let’s leave this room. C’mon baby, let’s go get to know each other upstairs.”
Isabella’s face turns red and she nods excitedly. “Okay!”
“Hahahahaha,” says Christian in the confessional. “She’s hot, man.”
He puts his arm around her, and the two dart upstairs and open up a random door. To their shock, the room is already occupied… by Chris McLean, wearing a red velvet bathrobe and watching TV, and Chef, who’s in nothing but boxers and reading his mystery novel.
“HEY!” yells Chris, jumping up. “This is a contestant-free zone!”
Christian rapidly closes the door and the two start hyperventilating. “Uhhh, let’s relocate,” he says.
“I’m so glad to see you! I love my girl gang and all, but they’re kinda… downers,” says Isabella. “They gotta learn to appreciate la dolce vita, you know? That’s my motto!”
“Yeah, life, it’s sweet…” slurs Christian. “Super sweet. Hey, y’know what else is sweet? You.” She blushes again. “Wanna make out or something?”
“Hahaha, of course I do!” purrs Isabella.
The two open up another door, this one to an empty room, and instantly shut it. Seconds later, Miles trudges up the stairs with his guitar and opens up the same door. He sees the two canoodling on the bed, turns around with a look of terror, then slams the door shut.
“Of course there’s already love connections forming on my team…” says Miles. “I just don’t understand why it happens to everyone except me. The worst thing is, walking in on that reminded me of the time my brother walked in on me and Jackie three years ago in the back seat of my dad’s Prius… I’ll never have memories that precious again.”
Miles starts to walk back down the stairs, and runs into the other three girls from his team opening the door up from outside and walking in.
“Oh, it’s Miles,” says Rachel, smiling slightly. “Hi! Do you want to see my tattoo? I think if my whole team sees it, we’ll become harmonized.”
She lifts up her jacket sleeve again and shows Miles her feather tattoo. He stares at it, his eyes begin to water, then he gulps.
“I’m, uh, gonna go to sleep,” he says. “It’s fine if we lose… Just vote me out or something.” He walks away and slumps onto the ground.
Erica looks like she’s about to say something, but Kelsey interrupts. “You know, it’s cool. We still have seven… right?”
“Two of them are upstairs, exploring each other,” says Rachel cheerfully.
Kingsley then walks up to the three in a velvet purple robe that’s not too different from Chris’s and a pair of bunny slippers.
“Hey babes, I need my beauty sleep,” he yawns. “Nothing personal! Y’all are strong, you got this. Oh, and Graham’s out cold over there.” He points in a vague direction.
“This is totally fine,” says Erica, who doesn’t look fine. “If they’re… doing it, they’ll be up for a while.”
Rachel walks up to the snoring Graham, waves her hand in his face, and gets no response. She shrugs and lies down on the couch right next to him.
“I’ve heard that if you, like, sleep next to someone, there’s a chance you’ll have the same dreams!” she says, before yawning and closing her eyes.
“Are they seriously just letting us lose?” Kelsey asks. “I can’t belie… wait, I guess I’m a little tired too.”
“Sadly, I didn’t share any dreams with Graham, but he was snoring suuuper loud,” states Rachel. “I got a hint of his breath, and it smelled like those hard candies the elderly keep in decorative tins. I think his whole look is so beautifully postmodern.”
Right outside, Suvir and Frances are watching the drama unfold from the front porch window.
“Whoa, this is waaaay too suspicious!” Suvir says. “They’ve gotta be making some sort of nefarious plot to throw the challenge!”
“Yeah, you’re right,” gasps Frances. “Astute observation. I mean, I’m fine with winning, but this kinda cheapens it, huh?”
“It’s all good, I’m gonna win fair and square! I ain’t trying to sleep at ALL tonight!” says Suvir. “My average is three hours, but lately I’ve been pulling two and a half.”
Frances nods. “Hmm, I see. I assume it’s because you’re too wary of potential threats to be unconscious during the most crucial moments of the night?”
“You got it!” says Suvir. “I mean, I used to sleep like a dang baby. That was back when I was younger and more optimistic, and my mind hadn’t been expanded. It was only recently when I—” He turns over to look at Frances, and she’s asleep sitting up. “NOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Many hours later, it’s sunrise. An undead-looking Chris, still in his velvet robe, walks downstairs with a steaming cup of coffee to see most contestants asleep in various corners of the room.
“You’re still up?!” asks Chris, looking at Artemis who’s sitting perfectly still right next to a passed-out Kaitlin.
“Sure I am,” she shrugs. “A true actress never succumbs to the pressure of the elements.”
“Okay, well…” he continues, walking to the door. “All the Wildcats are down, I think? I don’t want to venture into that room upstairs, I think everyone knows what I’m talking about.” He opens the door to see Suvir, who’s shivering in fear and right next to the still-asleep Frances. “Whoa! Dude! You’re awake too?”
“Yeah, man, how could I not be?!” he answers. “Franny’s incapacitated! The pod people got her!”
Chris nudges Frances with his foot, and she stirs a little bit. “Nah, she’s fine,” he says, and he takes out a megaphone from his back pocket. “Prepare your ears!”
Minutes later, everyone is back in the common room of the director’s pad, looking very tired and grumpy and some even rubbing their ears in pain.
“Well, I don’t know how you guys did it, but Cheeses,” announces Chris. “You win our very first challenge!” The Artisanal Cheeses erupt into cheers. “Head back to your dorm, you’re safe tonight.”
As the Cheeses walk away, Roald approaches Boris. “Hey, buddy! I see you did pretty well last night,” he says.
“Why yes, I did,” says Boris. “I was in the midst of a very important anime! It was only my 17th time watching it, I had no time for sleep!”
“Haha, anime, cool and stuff!” says Roald. “Hey, listen. Y’wanna go to the gym with me tomorrow?” Boris looks at him, stone-faced. “C’mon! It’ll be a great time!” Boris continues to say nothing. “Uhhhh, maybe you’ll be able to beat up that preppy guy!”
“Fine! I am in,” says Boris. “But only this once. If I suffer any physical mishaps, I will never utter a word to you again.”
“Heh, that’s totally fine with me, bro!” says Roald. “Lezzdothis!”
“On the other hand…” continues Chris, standing by the losing team. “Wildcats, you’re not looking too killer tonight. Vote someone out relatively soon, then meet me at the bandshell by the water!”
Most of the Killer Wildcats gulp. “I mean, we tried… kinda,” shrugs Kelsey.
“I’m not surprised we won the challenge,” says Artemis frankly. “I may or may not have been on stimulants all night. What? It’s method acting.”
The atmosphere is tense in the Wildcats’ cabin, as everyone seems to be dodging the elephant in the room. Miles is sitting on his bed, tuning his guitar and repeatedly sighing.
“Hey man, stop playing. I’m trying to concentrate,” says Christian.
“I would if someone else asked me to, but as it stands, no,” retorts Miles. “Go hang out with your new girlfriend if it bothers you so much…”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, how’d you know about that?!” Christian exclaims. “I mean, it’s good that you do. It was some quality puss. But that was confidential!”
“It was written in the stars from the start,” says Graham. “Your personalities melded so naturally, and so…”
“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Christian raises an eyebrow. “You wanna go, Abe Lincoln?”
“I wasn’t trying to insult you at all!” Graham says, shaking his head. “Plus, Abe Lincoln didn’t have a mustache, right?”
“Man, I’m outta here, you guys are the worst,” says Christian, taking out his vape and walking to the girls’ room.
“You know, I’d vote him out, but he’s nice to look at,” says Kingsley from the bed, taking out an earbud. “Plus, like—”
Kingsley is interrupted by Christian coming back into the room, this time with his arms around Isabella.
“Hello!” says Isabella happily. “Oh wow, Kingsley, you’re really working that pose.” She pulls out her phone and snaps a photo of him lying near-motionless on his bed. “Wait, where’s my sisterhood?”
Right on cue, the three remaining girls walk into the room. “We’re strategizing!” says Rachel, flashing a peace sign.
“Rachel, don’t SAY that,” hisses Erica.
“I mean, it’s true, is it not?” says Kelsey. “We’re going to have to vote out somebody. I’m personally undecided, but if you guys have any compelling arguments, hit me.”
Isabella frowns. “Can’t we just vote for Chris or something? That’d be funny! I don’t like drama.”
“Kelsey, I’ve got an argument,” says Erica. “It requires some privacy, of course.” The three girls leave the room.
An awkward silence ensues, and after a few seconds Miles starts tuning his guitar again. Christian shouts several bleeped profanities.
“I can’t in good conscience vote for anyone else except that turd Christian…” mutters Miles. “He reminds me deeply of the man my ex cheated on me with… Just some blonde slimeball who thinks he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread.”
“I don’t want to vote for anyone,” says Isabella. “They’re all so sweet. I mean, most of them are… Graham and Miles kinda make me uncomfortable. They’re always talking about their feelings and stuff, and I thought guys were a lot more chill than that?”
“Hey fans, welcome back to another installment of ‘What Is She Wearing?,’” says Kingsley in the confessional. “Today’s victim? Isabella. What is she wearing? A plain black long-sleeved crop top, isn’t that a little impractical? And those grimy blue jeans? Horrendous. Ugh, she’s like the worst local I’ve ever met. Soooo yeah, I’m voting for her.”
Rachel is intensely eyeing the voting ballot. “Wow, this is so cool,” she says. “I wonder what it’s made out of? Recycled paper? If so, Chris, you have my respect.”
Night falls, and Chris meets the Killer Wildcats at the elimination ceremony, this season taking place at a large bandshell on a rocky outcropping overlooking the lake.
“Well, here we are,” he says. “Now, I’m not going to critique your skills just yet, but… come on, guys, that was pathetic. I mean, seriously?! You lost to the team that had two guys pass out within seconds? Anyway, let’s get right to it, huh? This time around we’re back to marshmallows, and that’s not because our budget wouldn’t allow for anything else. Trust me, I just like the nostalgia. But the rules are pretty simple: the person who does not receive a marshmallow has to walk down the Beach Trail of Shame, catch the Yacht of Losers, and fade back into irrelevancy. Oh, and you can’t come back, EVER.”
“With all due respect, Chris, can we hurry this up?” asks Kelsey. “I’ve got a Skype interview with my advisor in…” She checks her phone. “15.”
“Gosh! Fine!” says Chris. “You know, Kelsey, I’d eject you just for that, but unfortunately you didn’t get any votes. Marshmallows for you, Erica, Kingsley, and Graham!”
The four catch their tossed marshmallows, and Kingsley swallows his whole.
“Rachel and Christian, don’t ask me how, but you’re safe as well,” says Chris.
As the two grab their respective marshmallows, Miles and Isabella share a glance. Miles weakly sighs, while Isabella looks slightly terrified but is still grinning wide.
“Lady and gentleman,” says Chris. “There’s one marshmallow left on this plate. Miles, I think your fashion sense alone is grounds for an elimination, and Isabella… maybe you were too happy? Heck if I know. The final marshmallow goes to…”
Isabella stands up. “Wait, what? Me?” she says in shock. “Aw, you guys… I’m sorry if I did anything wrong.”
“Yeah, c’mon, this is BS!” says Christian. “Psst, babe, I know you gotta bounce and all, but one more kiss?”
“Uhhhhh,” she says, sweating. “Sorry, that was just a casual affair. It was really fun though!”
“I’m dreadfully confused as to why any of that happened, but regardless, I hope your life is fruitful!” says Graham, extending his arm for her to shake.
Isabella looks at Graham and shivers, then walks over to her female teammates. “I’ll never forget my girl squad,” she says.
“Bye,” says Erica curtly.
“Um…” continues Isabella. “One last selfie with everyone before I go? You guys can all get in… I guess! Even Chris, if you want!”
“Nah, I’d rather n—” begins Chris, but Isabella rushes up right next to him with her phone out. The majority of the other Killer Wildcats crowd in behind Chris, and Isabella takes about 10 selfies, then stuffs her phone back in her pocket while smiling wide.
“That was so presh,” she says, admiring her photo as she walks to the Yacht of Losers and begins to board. “See you later, everyone!”
The boat sails away as the Killer Wildcats walk back to their dorm room, most of them with relatively indifferent facial expressions.
“I know Isabella seemed all nice and sweet and everything,” says Erica. “But I didn’t buy that for one second. She’s just like the girls I used to be best friends with in high school, all goody-goody to your face but vapid and superficial and obsessed with the dumbest things. I’ve moved past that point in my life, and she was dragging me down. She had to go. One more thing? Christian was waaaaay too good for her.” She swoons. “Don’t tell my boyfriend!”
“Wow, uh…” says Chris, closing out the episode with Chef by the lake. “Chick’s got some baggage, huh? How will the Killer Wildcats deal with the wrath of a frat boy? Will they manage to pull it together for the next challenge? Will the Artisanal Cheeses recover from their non-alcoholic beer-induced hangover? Find out next time on—”
“Uhh…” says Chef, looking down at the ground.
“What now?!” snaps Chris. “Ruined my outro!”
“You, um, never specifically told me to get non-alcoholic beer,” says Chef. Chris looks at him in horror. "I'm sorry, I was jus' all engrossed in that mystery book, and..."
Chris stares at Chef, a gigantic fake smile plastered on his face. “Let’s talk about this later tonight, shall we?” he says through gritted teeth. “Tune in next time on Total Drama Lakeside, and just so you all know, all 16 of our contestants are well over 21! See ya later!”
Chapter 3 - Chris and Chef's Eggscellent Adventure
“Last time on Total Drama Lakeside!” begins Chris. “The contestants were thrust into their first challenge and had a pretty awesome time. I made them run a couple miles for no reason at all, then Chef and I got a keg of what I THOUGHT was non-alcoholic beer and let the kids run wild in the directors’ pad! I’m pleasantly surprised too, since they didn’t end up trashing any of my valuables. Maybe older, more mature casts are the way to go. Anyway, the Cheeses had a pretty embarrassing showing when Rhett and Roald passed out almost immediately, then the others kept falling down one-by-one… except for unexpected challenge beast Suvir. Thanks to his refusal to fall asleep, and the Wildcats throwing in the towel for some reason, the Cheeses won the first challenge! The Wildcats seemed to have some emotional baggage, or at least Erica did, as shown by her brutal booting of fan-favorite Isabella. These guys are showing no mercy, and I can’t imagine certain teammates of hers will be too happy. So what’s going to happen this time? There’s only one way to find out. Tune in right now on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
Over in the Killer Wildcats’ dorm, the team members attempt to get out of bed as the sun rises.
“Man, that was lame,” says Christian, yawning and putting on his polo shirt. “Your boy got zero sleep. I miss Isabella already.”
“Yeah, um, I don’t,” murmurs Kingsley. “Her voice was really taxing on my eardrums.”
“Her voice? You kidding me?” says Christian. “It was like angels singing sweet nothings into my ear. Really hot angels.”
“I do hope you’ll appreciate the move in a strategic sense,” says Graham, who is applying mustache oil. “You and Isabella were a power couple, it was clear as day.”
“Power couple? Nah, I voted for her because she was annoying,” says Kingsley. Christian rolls his eyes.
“Did I have any part in voting Isabella? Hell no,” says Christian. “I voted for that emo loser. And now Mustachio is saying we were a ‘power couple’ and that it was strategy or whatever, but I don’t really care about strategy. I just thought she was hot.”
“The mood seems strangely light this morning,” says Graham. “That’s it! Where’s Miles?”
“Maybe off getting therapy, like she desperately needs?” suggests Kingsley.
Right outside the Wildcats’ dorm room, the female teammates are sitting in a circle in the grass and doing yoga, with Rachel leading the others.
“Thank you all for joining me on my morning routine,” says Rachel lightly. “I feel like last night was filled with negative energy, and this’ll quench that!”
She looks at Miles, who is lying face-down in the grass a few feet away and softly moaning.
“He’s been doing that for 20 minutes,” says Kelsey. “I feel like we should stage an intervention.”
“Yeah, it’s really messing with my positive energy,” adds Erica. “But also, Isabella’s gone! That’s positive!”
Kelsey nods apprehensively. “I actually think she brought more positive energy than the rest of us combined. But then again, talking to her was like talking to a cardboard box, so I mean...”
“Whatever, you guys know that was all fake,” says Erica. “Nobody’s actually that nice. Let’s focus on the yoga.”
Miles suddenly stirs a bit, then slowly gets up and sits down criss-cross applesauce next to Rachel.
“You’re alive!” says Rachel gleefully. “I knew the energy would strike your inner sanctum!”
“Yeah, barely,” mumbles Miles. “Thanks for sparing me last night, you guys… I really do appreciate it.”
“I mean, Isabella was far worse than you, so you got lucky, I guess!” says Erica, smiling.
“Don’t listen to her, Miles, you’re just as integral to the team as the rest of us,” says Kelsey. She does a stretch and her back cracks very loudly. “Jeez, okay, maybe the rest of us minus me.” She laughs nervously.
“Yesterday’s challenge… was rough,” says an exhausted-looking Kelsey. “The yoga isn’t helping, but I mean, I’ve certainly gone through worse. Last year, my friends and I did a fundraiser where we had to dance for 34 hours straight. Things got pretty ugly towards the end… Emma, I’m sorry I fell on you and ruptured your spleen.”
Erica begins to walk towards the door to the dorm and is quickly intercepted by Kingsley, who greets her with a cheerful wave.
“Hey, mom!” he says.
“Oh my god, you scared me!” Erica gasps. “What do you want?”
“I’m, like, beyond happy you got rid of Isabella last night,” says Kingsley. “She was the wooooorst. So listen here. I think you’re by far the fiercest bish in the competish. You and I could make a real hot power duo. What do you think?”
“Hmmm…” says Erica. “That sounds really good!”
“Really? Love it!” squeals Kingsley. “Like, you can still spend time with your ladies and all, but just know I’m gonna be super loyal. You deserve it, kween.”
“Okay, cool, now I gotta go use the bathr—” says Erica.
“And guess what? I’ve got some real good plans on who we should target first,” winks Kingsley. “But I’ll keep that on the DL for now.”
“Sounds great!” says Erica, wearing her signature wide grin. “Now I really gotta go use the bathroom.”
“I don’t like that Kingsley guy,” grumbles Erica. “He’s totally fake. I mean, who just goes up to someone and asks them to be in an alliance? There’s nothing subtle about that. But if it advances me in the game, then I guess he’s my newest ally!”
“Storytime!” chirps Kingsley. “My dream sidekick, Erica, is sooooo pumped to be in an alliance with me! I just can’t believe it, today is going amazingly. She and I are going to slay these Beckys.”
Meanwhile, the Artisanal Cheeses are (mostly) sound asleep. After a prolonged period of silence, the front door swings open and an extremely sweaty Roald and Boris slump onto the ground on top of each other.
“Darg blargit!!!” yells Roald. “That was a WORKOUT! My quads just grew quads!”
“That… was intensely awful!” bellows Boris in between heavy panting. “Why must you take me there for the second time in 12 hours?!!”
Roald laughs nervously, then stands up. “C’mon, big guy, we had so much fun!” he says. “Can’t you just feel the power approachin’ your loins?”
“You dunce, my loins are unchanged!” yells Boris. “Ah, wait, but not for long! I need to catch up on the past 24 episodes of Ness Genesis Seraphine!” He sprints over to his bed and frantically opens his laptop.
“I still cannot understand why Roald is dragging me to the home of the Chads!” says Boris. “I do not feel any better. I feel like an elephant sat on me! All these advertisements saying you will become ‘fit’ and ‘healthy’ upon going to the gym are filthy lies, I say. Lies!”
Roald shrugs and walks over to his own bed, where he’s greeted by Rhett.
“Hey man, there y’ are!” Rhett says. “I been all alone all morn, I think Suvir’s out with that reporter chick! They’re probably doin’ stuff they shouldn’t be doin’!”
“Heh-heh, them? A couple? Man, I dunno!” says Roald. “But hey, Rhett-o, wanna come to the gym with us tonight?”
“Yeeeeeeee, course I do,” chuckles Rhett. “We can make it into some manly man bondin’!”
“What’s this about manly men and bonding?” says Artemis, who has suddenly appeared right next to the boys.
Rhett and Roald both jump slightly. “Where’d y’ come from?!” gasps Rhett.
Artemis shrugs. “I needed some entertainment. I want in on this bonding.”
“Hey, I see no problemo with that!” says Roald. “If our whole team gets swole, then we’ll be totally unstoppable! Catch my ice drift?”
“The gym? Well, you didn’t mention that,” says Artemis. “But I’ll come. I’m sure there will be an Adonis or two over there.”
“Nice try, bozos, but I’m not coming,” says Kaitlin, walking in. “I have more respectable things to do with my time.”
“Like try to gulp down your 13th beer of the morning?” says an all-too-familiar voice from the other room.
“Who said that?!” snaps Kaitlin. “I swear to god, Whitney, I’ll eat your babies for breakfast!”
“Right,” says Whitney, walking in. “This team bonding is working well.” Kaitlin grimaces at her.
“That Whitney thinks she’s so funny,” says Kaitlin angrily. “But I’ll show her, oh yes I will. Chris, can we have an acting challenge or something? Really feel like I’m gonna have to one-up this chick sooner than later.”
Outside, Chris’s voice blares on the loudspeaker. “Everyone, meet in the parking lot in five for our next challenge! Get ready for a thrilling, slightly bumpy bus ride!”
“Ohhhhh no,” whispers Suvir, who’s hiding in the bushes outside the Cheeses’ window with Frances. “Bus ride? Man, I don’t screw with public transportation! We could fall off a cliff, then we’d be sent plummeting into the earth’s nether-regions!”
“Calm down!” says Frances. “We’re gonna be fine. We just spent two hours sitting out here observing, let’s focus on that. Got any good data?”
“Yeah, I sure did!” says Suvir. “Didja see how Kaitlin was putting on that lipstick earlier? And how it was all sloppy and grossly applied?”
Frances shudders. “Unfortunately.”
“She was totally trying to hide her beak! She’s a bird-woman, I swear!” says Suvir.
“Hmmmm, I see where you’re coming from!” says Frances. “Now, I personally think she’s 100% human, but maybe she was raised by birds? How about that.”
“Oooooh, yeah, and maybe they fed her worms and junk and raised her as one of their own! That’d be spooky!” says Suvir.
“That would be spooky,” says Frances. “But it’d be thrilling! Would you pick up a newspaper with the headline ‘Controversial Reality Star Revealed To Be Bird-Woman?’ I know I would.”
“Hecks yeah, I would!” cheers Suvir. “The paper is the only wholesome news outlet left! It hasn’t been taken over by the Russians just yet!”
Frances grins wide. “Amazing,” she says. “Now, let’s… get to the challenge.”
“Chris said something about a bus ride, so I’ve narrowed it down to a few strong possibilities,” says Frances. “The bus ride IS the challenge, and he’s pulling another Awake-a-Thon on us. Or, knowing Chef’s driving skills, more like a Stay-Alive-a-Thon. The other possibility is that he’s taking us somewhere grotesque, like a gym or something. Let’s hope it’s the former.”
A giant, poorly-kept green bus with Chris McLean’s grinning face painted on the side haphazardly pulls out of the parking lot, rear-ending another car in the process, and jerks onto the road. Chef gulps from the driver’s seat.
“Hello, friends,” says Chris to the contestants, all sitting in seats in front of him. Nobody says anything. “Hmm, tough crowd this morning. Okay, I get it. Who wants to know where we’re going for today’s challenge?!” Still, nobody says anything. “Fiiiiiine. I’ll tell you anyway. We’re headed ten minutes northwest to the McLean Memorial Botanic Garden! Named after myself, of course.”
Chef snorts loudly from the driver’s seat. “Chris, don’t pull that sh—”
“Fine! It wasn’t named after me! How’d you know?!” pouts Chris. “It was this philanthropist guy, Brian McLean. No relation. He kicked the bucket a couple years back. The guy did all sorts of charity work, planting trees and feeding starving children and whatever, I think he ran for mayor or something and might’ve won. Pffft, lame if you ask me.”
“Wow, I’d take Brian over Chris any day,” whispers Kelsey. Rachel nods in agreement.
“I HEARD that!” scolds Chris. “Kelsey, you’re really pushing it lately. One more comment and you’re out of the challenge. Yeesh, you’re almost as bad as that British guy!”
Kelsey opens her mouth again, but then closes it and smiles politely.
“Yeah, maybe just shut up for now,” Erica says.
“Anyway, before that series of rude interjections, I was explaining the challenge,” continues Chris. “These gardens are… pretty big. Perfect size for a super duper scavenger hunt!”
“Scavenger hunt? I’ve always wanted to relive my preschool days,” says Whitney.
“WHOOOOOO! Let’s hunt those scavengers!” yells Roald, jumping up and down in his seat. Whitney takes an aspirin out from her pocket and swallows it.
Chris clears his throat. “I see we’ve got some… mixed reactions. But in any case, I figured I’d let you all acclimate to the lakeside surroundings by letting you wander around and search for magical rainbow eggs! There’s about 50 of ‘em hidden around the garden, and whichever team comes back with the most eggs in two hours wins the challenge.”
Frances raises her hand. “This challenge seems simple, deceptively so. Are there any obstacles, Chris? Any death traps we’ll have to navigate?”
“Come on, why would there be? It’s the second challenge,” says Chris. “Your true obstacles are… each other! Okay, we’re here, happy hunting or whatever.”
The bus pulls up to the parking lot, and as the doors swing open the contestants sprint out and into the massive garden.
“I finally realized why Roald is so infuriating,” says Whitney. “The pudgy body, the constant over-enthusiasm, the onslaught of puns… He’s related to my brother’s worst nightmare, Puck. They’re probably cousins or something. Good god, McLean, why would you do this to me?”
The Artisanal Cheeses are in a very reluctant team huddle right by the garden’s welcome center.
“Okay, Cheeses, I’m thinking we should split up for maximum efficiency,” says Frances. “Suvir and I will scan the outer areas of the garden.” She winks at Suvir.
“Why the hell are you always with that guy anyway?” asks Kaitlin. “You two banging or something?”
“Bangi—” begins Frances. “Huh? Yes, Kaitlin, we are. No, our strengths just complement each other well.”
“Whatever, I’ve got my gal pals who complement ME well,” says Kaitlin. “Come on, ladies. I heard the cafe has an open bar.” She walks away with Artemis and Whitney.
“Wait, the cafe?!” gasps Suvir. “Hey Franny, I’m heading there too. There’s mosquitoes all over the garden and I’m not trying to get malaria!”
“But my partn—” protests Frances. “Fine, I’ll get a sandwich.” She and Suvir follow the three.
“Aight, fellas,” says Rhett, once the majority of the team has left. “Manly man bondin’ time?!”
“Oh boy, you know it!” says Roald. “Wait! Let’s go to the gym! I bet they totally have eggs there!”
“The gym?!” grunts Boris. “You dullard, this is a botanical garden, there are no gyms anywhere near us! I am going to the Japanese garden, thank you very much.” He struts away.
“Looks like it’s jus’ you and me then, buddy,” says Rhett. “Don’ worry, we’ll find that gym!”
“Roald an’ I really know how to live it up!” whoops Rhett in the confessional. “It almost don’t even feel like Total Drama when I’m around him an’ the boys! Feels like one of my cousin’s barn parties!”
The Killer Wildcats are walking around the garden, some periodically stopping every few seconds to glare at each other.
Christian sighs loudly. “Man, this ain’t cutting it,” he says. “I’m out. Gonna go do some hunting by myself, y’know? Catch me later with all 50 eggs.” He makes a clicking noise, then leaves.
“Mmmmm, well, good riddance?” drawls Kingsley. “Erica, wanna go to the Japanese garden? There’s gotta be gold there.”
“I’m… Chinese,” says Erica flatly.
Kingsley gasps. “I did NOT mean it like that! Wig. No, I just thought it’d be a good place to hunt.”
Erica shrugs half-heartedly, then looks at Kingsley and beams wide as the two walk off.
“Well, I suppose it’s just us four, huh?” says Graham. “Great! If we put our minds together, we’ll be unstoppable!”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes up,” mutters Miles. “We lost last time.”
“Man, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” says Miles. “No matter how long I continue on in life without her, it doesn’t get any easier… Graham wants to be my friend or whatever, but look, I’ve seen this kind of thing before… He’s just pitying me. Everyone is.” He pulls out his vape and takes a drag.
“Okay, we did lose last time,” says Kelsey. “But let’s move on, huh? Failure is inevitable every once in a while, but when it becomes a pattern… yikes.”
Rachel gasps, and the three turn to her. “Oooooh, I found an egg already!” she coos, cradling a small blue egg in her hands.
Kelsey grabs it and examines it. “Uh, Rachel? I think this egg belongs to a bird.”
“Does it really?!” gasps Rachel. She takes it back and holds it closer to her ear. “Wait, now that you mention it I can hear tiny chirping! Awwww!”
“I didn’t think bird fetuses could chirp, but then again, I’m not a bio major,” says Kelsey.
“Ahhhh. Maybe the chirping was just in my soul,” says Rachel.
Miles looks at Graham and sighs his usual sigh. “The way she’s so aligned with nature reminds me of Jackie… She had three betta fish once and they all died within a week…” he whispers.
“Ah, yes,” says Graham. “It’s wonderful, huh? There’s so much natural beauty to be found around us.” He looks to the side and at a fairly average tree. “Like that tree… who knows what secrets it holds?” He steps closer to it and pulls something from a branch. “Apparently an egg!”
“Whoa, nice job Graham!” smiles Kelsey. “Let’s keep trucking, guys. These eggs won’t find themselves.” The four walk off.
“I’m growing to love my teammates!” says Graham in the confessional. “Well, most of them at least. I think we’ve made a splendid egg-gathering team, I already feel a lot more comfortable around them. Only one thing…” He blushes. “When should I tell them about my big crush on Whitney? I feel like they should know. Maybe they can help me out!”
“This egg and I are going to blossom together,” says Rachel, who has fashioned a pouch out of grass for her egg. “She’ll be our new mascot, representing our team’s rebirth! Last night we lost Isabella, so I’ll call her… Eggsabella! It’s perfect.”
The Artisanal Cheeses, or most of them, are pacing around the visitor center. Frances, Suvir, and Whitney are in what looks like the garden’s gift shop, rifling through the items for sale.
“Euch,” grunts Whitney, holding up a sweater with the garden’s logo emblazoned on it. “How could anyone purchase this? Horrendous.”
“Found one,” says Frances, holding up an egg. “Psst. Suvir. I’m going to try and do my first interview of the season. Want to be my cameraman?”
“Interview? With who?! We gotta keep searching, though!” pants Suvir.
“It’s fine,” says Frances, giving him her phone. “Artemis and Kaitlin have it covered.” She glances over to the cafe, where Artemis and Kaitlin look in the midst of a argument.
“Frances is GREAT, don’t get me wrong,” says Suvir. “She’s a totally cool alliance-mate! That is, if she’s not secretly conspiring against me. But anyway, she has to realize we’re in a competition, because if we lose, I’m 100% going home, and I’m NOT about to risk that! We don’t have time for interviews, man!”
Suvir reluctantly begins filming as Frances walks right up to Whitney, who looks at her dismissively.
“Good afternoon, everyone,” she says. “Frances Valdez here with the Total Drama Lakeside News. I know you’re all out there looking for hard-hitting journalism, and don’t worry, we’ve got that covered! Our first interviewee is… Whitney, my teammate! So Whitney, I was just wondering, how do you feel about this challenge?”
“No,” says Whitney.
A long silence ensues. “Uhhhh, okay, cool,” says Frances. “How did you feel about the last challenge? The one we won?”
“Glad we won,” says Whitney.
“Hmm, not getting much,” mutters Frances to herself. “Oh, I know. Different angle. Do you have a ‘special someone’ in this competition? The viewers want to know!”
Whitney takes one more look at Frances and walks out the door and into the gardens.
“...So, are you hungry? Kinda want to get that sandwich now,” says Frances, but she turns around and Suvir is already gone. She sighs.
“Well, that didn’t turn out as great as I had imagined,” says Frances. “Maybe that was a little much? Did I come on too strong? Should I ease them into my whole interview process? Hmmm, that’s a plan.”
In the cafe, Kaitlin and Artemis are still sitting at the bar, looking rather antsy.
“Do you see that egg? There is an egg RIGHT there,” says Artemis, pointing to an egg resting on the top of a large bottle of gin.
“Of course I see the goddamn egg, Artemis, do you think I magically lost my sight?” snaps Kaitlin. “Let’s just get a drink and get the egg.”
“Oh, I’m not getting a drink,” says Artemis. “I’ve already had three. Now I can’t remember the past 20 minutes.”
“You…” begins Kaitlin. “Jesus Christ. We’ve been sitting here arguing for the past hour.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound very productive,” says Artemis. “Why have we been arguing?”
“Just—just move past it, all right?” snarls Kaitlin. “I’m done with this. BARTENDER!”
A disgruntled-looking man with a bandana around his head, a beard, and voluminous blonde hair walks up from behind the kitchen.
“Ugh, what do you want? I was on break,” he says. “Understaffed piece of…”
“Listen, you see that gin over there? I’m not ordering it, in fact I hate gin. It’s disgusting. That’s beside the point. There’s an egg on that gin. Give it to us,” demands Kaitlin.
“Wait, who even are you?” says Smoothie Guy. “Not a fan of your attitude.”
“I’m not a fan of YOUR attitude,” says Kaitlin. “But I’ll let it slide for now."
"Listen, I’ll take a shot as well," adds Artemis.
“A shot? Oh, come on, we have to focus!” says Kaitlin.
Smoothie Guy shrugs. “Sure, I’ll get you one. Free of charge. But only because you’re a fox,” he says. Artemis bats her eyelashes seductively.
“Her? A fox?! Wait, why don’t I get one?!” complains Kaitlin.
“Ew, you? You’re not a fox,” says Smoothie Guy. “You’re like… one of those giant prehistoric man-eating birds.”
“Okay, screw it, I’m out of here,” says Kaitlin. “Artemis, you can have your goddamn gin if you want.” She gets up and walks away.
Once she is gone, Artemis whispers, “Hmmm, looks like someone’s a little jealous.”
Smoothie Guy comes back with the shot, and Artemis downs it and immediately walks away as well, leaving the egg there. Once Smoothie Guy walks back into the kitchen muttering obscenities, Erica and Kingsley show up out of nowhere, sneak behind the bar, grab the egg, and run off.
“I don’t like Kaitlin,” says Artemis. “She’s a talentless hack, and she wishes she had the natural charisma and sensual charm that I do. We make a perfect pair.”
Erica and Kingsley, now with their grand total of one egg, are back to patrolling the outskirts of the garden.
“Mmmmm, girl, that was sneaky,” says Kingsley. “I cannot believe you spotted that egg. We’re on a roll!”
“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” says Erica. “We have one egg so far.”
“Psssh, whatever,” snorts Kingsley. “I bet the other team has zero. Hey, so wanna talk strategy?”
“When do I not want to talk strategy?” asks Erica excitedly.
“Hahahahaha!” chirps Kingsley. “Good one. So listen. How would you feel about making a huge power move tonight and targeting… Christian? Yeah, he and I seem like we’re buds, but he’s such a threat.”
Erica gasps. “Christian?!” she says. “Well, you’re not wrong… Plus, I can already sense he’s charming those other girls. I’m on board.”
“That’s what I like to hear!” says Kingsley. “You’re goooood.”
“I can already see it,” says Kingsley. “Erica and Kingsley, slaying the screen in the final two. The Total Drama franchise’s most adorable, charismatic, and plain fab final two in history! Wait, actually, Layla and Roz were pretty cute too… But they’ve got nothing on us. Christian, you’re going down.”
“Am I really targeting Christian?” asks Erica to herself. “Oh, no way. Kingsley thinks he and I are running things together, but really, what I’m trying to do is turn it around on HIM. The guy’s way too trusting, and at this point I’m starting to think he’s kinda stupid.”
In the outer limits of the Japanese garden, Christian is walking around with his headphones on, holding zero eggs.
“C’mon, man,” he says to himself. “Don’t get yourself down. Isabella was hot, sure, but plenty of other girls here are hot too. Erica’s pretty slammin, of course, even if she has a boyfriend already. Rachel’s probably great in the sack. Kelsey’s… fine, I guess. Those chicks on the other team are pretty hit-or-miss, though. Shit, the ratio’s off now.”
He walks up to a rock, lifts it up, and sees nothing but a worm crawling around underneath. He sighs and puts the rock back, then sifts around in some bushes and finds nothing.
“This is hard!” he sighs, as he takes out his e-cigarette and shakes it around. “Dammit, I’m outta juice too!”
“Serves you right…” says a familiar voice. “Nothing personnel, kid.”
Christian glances behind him, looking slightly scared. “Huh? What’s going on?”
“You fool…” says the voice. Boris then jumps out from behind a tree, shrieking loudly, and Christian just stands there and rolls his eyes.
“Bruh, really? You again?” says Christian. “I got no time for this. Wait actually, you got any eggs? I’ll trade up.”
Boris’s face turns extremely red. “I am NOT trading with you, you knave!” he booms. “I am challenging you to a duel, right here, right now. We are in the Japanese garden—thus, we will brawl like the days of feudal Japan!”
“Dude, I need what you’re smoking and I need it now,” says Christian. “Damn, I knew I should’ve gotten a new dealer.”
“Smoking?!” yells Boris. “No, a samurai’s mind and body must be in tip-top shape! No unlawful substances shall be involved in this duel! Just man versus man, to determine the ultimate Chad!”
“Ohhhhh,” says Christian. “So that’s what this is about. I still don’t know what all this Chad stuff is, bro.”
“Of course you do not!” says Boris. “Typical Chad, so self-centered he does not even realize the greater societal implications of his wrongdoings!”
Christian yawns and takes out his headphones again. “Listen, can we make this quick? I was right in the middle of a good verse.”
Boris stares intensely into Christian’s eyes, breathes in deeply, and begins charging forward. Christian steps out of the way, only inches to the right, and Boris trips over a root and falls face-first into the sand. Christian shrugs, then puts on his headphones and walks away.
“Yo, I’m actually kinda glad I got out of that situation,” says Christian. “Boris is a dork, sure, but I think all those gym trips have been paying off. Guy’s looking kinda swole. Scary stuff.”
“Blech!” says Boris, whose face is covered in sand. “What a coward he is. I would rather spend the rest of my days on a treadmill with Roald shouting motivational phrases at me than say a single word to that clod again!”
The majority of the Killer Wildcats are in an area of the garden featuring picnic tables and rose bushes, sitting down for a break.
“Okay, I get the challenges are going to be hard, but really, this hard?” asks Kelsey. “We have one egg and time’s almost up.”
“Hey, look on the bright side!” says Graham. “One egg has indeed been found.”
“Yeah, that’s great, but I’m sure the other team has like twenty…” grumbles Miles.
“Guys?” says Rachel. “I hate to correct you, but we’ve gotten two eggs! Eggsabella is just as valid as the other one.”
“That’s right, how could we forget,” says Kelsey dryly. “What’s she saying?”
Rachel holds the bird’s egg up to her ear and thinks for a moment. “She’s saying… Oh, that’s rude! Wow, I didn’t realize she had a tongue like that…”
“Jackie had a tongue like that,” whispers Miles to Graham. “And I mean literally. Like, you should’ve seen her go d—”
“...Miles, that is MORE than enough,” says Kelsey, cutting him off.
Graham stands up and clears his throat. “Okay, well, Kelsey and I are going to go search elsewhere. Divide and conquer, huh? I wish you two luck in your endeavors!”
The two of them walk away, Kelsey giving Graham a discreet thumbs-up after they’re gone.
“Kelsey is the perfect first person to talk to about multiple issues that’ve been bugging me lately,” says Graham. “She reminds me so much of my college friends! Just a great, compassionate person. I’m sure she’s had past loves just like Whitney… or Jackie.”
“Okay, listen,” says Graham. “I hold Miles near and dear to my heart, but this is getting ridiculous. Should we set him and Rachel up?”
“Him and Rachel?!” gasps Kelsey. “I mean, might be nice in theory, but she’s definitely not interested. Plus, I feel like Miles is waaaay too preoccupied.”
“Are you sure?” says Graham. “I suppose it’s just the hopeless romantic side of me.”
“Awww,” says Kelsey. “I mean, I don’t know. Weirder things have happened.”
Graham starts to blush and fumble with his hands. “Speaking of, uh, romance,” he says. “What do you think about Whitney?”
“Whitney?” asks Kelsey. “On the other team? Don’t you think she’s kind of… off-putting?”
“Off-putting? Not at all!” protests Graham. “What makes you say that?”
“I mean, she just seems like she’s got a stick up her butt 24/7,” says Kelsey. “And if I’m saying that, you know it’s bad.” She laughs.
“Oh,” says Graham. “Okay, it’s fine. Forget I ever said anything.”
Kelsey looks at him, confused. “Uh, let’s keep searching?” she offers.
The two walk off into the distance, looking in the bushes for eggs on the way.
“Poor Graham,” laughs Kelsey. “Guy’s hilarious. He’s obviously into Whitney, now that I think about it, and unfortunately I can relate. I’ve had plenty of crushes from afar on really disgusting dudes. Like Dylan from Zeta Beta Tau, who I thought was cute because he cared about international politics, but then I went to formal with him and he—jeez, no, I’ve already said too much.”
“Can’t believe they left…” mutters Miles, now sitting at the table with only Rachel.
“Yeah, bummer, huh?” says Rachel. “But it’s fine with me. This spot is gorgeous, no? Just feel that light breeze against your cheeks.”
Miles’s mouth widens slightly as he takes a notepad out of his overall pocket and starts jotting things down. “Keep saying stuff like that,” he says.
“Huh?” Rachel asks. “About the breeze against my cheeks?”
“No, just,” says Miles. “All that pretty nature stuff. You seem like the perfect muse…”
Rachel frowns slightly. “That might be an issue, since I also needed a muse but you’re a little too gloomy for me,” she says. “But okay. The flowers over there are just so…”
Miles starts to grin as he starts frantically writing down Rachel’s thoughts.
Elsewhere in the garden, Christian is continuing to wander around aimlessly until he bumps into Erica and Kingsley, seemingly in the midst of scheming.
“Yo! Teamies!” says Christian, waving. “What’s up? Found any eggs?”
“Um, yeah, we’ve found one,” says Kingsley flatly. “I assume you haven’t?”
“Nah bro, I’m not doing too hot today,” says Christian. “Don’t be salty about it, though. I’m putting in that work the best I can.”
“Yeah, it’s totally fine!” smiles Erica. “This challenge is stupid anyway, right? We’re probably done soon.” She and Kingsley start to walk in the other direction. “See ya!”
“Yaaaah, it’s tooootally fine,” says Kingsley in a mocking voice. “Ugh, come on, he’s just lazy. Don’t validate him. Focus!”
Christian looks at the two as they walk away. “Huh,” he murmurs. “That was… weird.”
Suddenly, Chris’s voice crackles on a loudspeaker over the gardens. “Time’s UP!” he shouts. “All contestants, head back to the entrance by the parking lot to be judged!”
Back at the entrance to the gardens, all seven Killer Wildcats are huddled up in front of Chris and Chef, but the only Artisanal Cheeses in sight are Suvir and Whitney.
“Okay, come on,” says Chris. “Where’s the rest of your team?!”
Whitney shrugs. “Don’t really care.”
“They must’ve been eaten by giant bugs,” says Suvir. “I knew this place was nuts! I stayed inside the whole time, and I’d still be inside right now if you didn’t drag me out!”
“Well, I guess we can’t tally the results until everyone’s here,” grumbles Chris. “How many eggs did you guys find, anyway?”
“Three!” says Rachel, holding up the Wildcats’ two eggs, plus Eggsabella.
“Zero,” says Whitney.
“Come ON!” says Chris. “Okay, that does it. Nobody cares about the challenges anymore, eh? Everyone just wants to wander around doing nothing until I say it’s over? Well, fine. Tomorrow’s challenge, I’m going to force you all to participate! We’re going physical!”
The contestants shrug and talk quietly amongst themselves, nobody really seeming to care.
“Damn millennials,” grunts Chef.
“Where even are the other Cheeses, anyway?” asks Chris impatiently.
The scene quickly changes to a nearly empty gym down the street, where music is blaring and the three other male Artisanal Cheeses are in the middle of some intense workouts.
“Whoooo dog! Keep that blood pumpin’!” says Rhett, who’s on an exercise bike.
“Big Boris, my man! I’m so glad you could make it!” says Roald, nearly out of breath on an elliptical.
“Do not get your hopes up,” says Boris, who’s lifting weights. “I only came because I was being harassed by that pleb Christian, and I needed to escape!”
Roald takes one more breath and collapses onto the ground. “Uuuuuugh,” he says, picking himself back up. “Hey, broskis. You think we should head back?”
“Naw, I’m jus’ getting started!” says Rhett. “But I am pretty tired, I could use a big ol’ nap.”
“Okay, I’m ready to roll,” says Roald, as the three head towards the exit. “But man, we didn’t get any eggs!”
“Wait a sec…” says Rhett. He stops, and points to a closet that has some sort of fabric peeking out from underneath the door.
“That looks dubious indeed,” says Boris. He grabs the doorknob and swings it open to find a bag filled to the brim with approximately 40 plastic eggs.
“WHOA!” all three boys yell.
“These are the real deal!” says Roald, grabbing the bag. “C’mon! Let’s head on back! For all Chris knows, we got these in the woods and stuff! Harharharhar!”
About a half hour later, the three boys make it back to the parking lot of the gardens, where Chris is looking more impatient than ever and almost every other contestant is on their phone.
“Jeez, it’s about time,” says Chris. “And what do you know, we’re still missing a few Cheeses, but at this point they can just stay here forever if they want.”
“Yo, Chris-o! Check it!” Roald says, triumphantly holding up the bag and then dumping all 40 eggs onto the ground.
Chris leans into Chef’s ear. “Why were all those eggs still in the bag? Did someone not complete his job for today?”
“Uh…” says Chef, beginning to sweat.
“We found ‘em in the gym!” says Rhett, beaming wide.
Boris elbows Rhett. “You imbecile, do not leak that information!”
“The gym, huh?” says Chris, growing irate.
“C’mon, man!” yells Chef. “Don’t get mad at me! Today was leg day! I wasn’t gon’ skip leg day! Jus’ forgot the eggs once I left!”
“Okay, fine. At least someone found them,” sighs Chris. “Anyway, for the second time in a row, the Artisanal Cheeses win today’s challenge!”
The Cheeses erupt into a cheer, while the Wildcats start to grumble under their breath.
“Now, can everyone get on the bus? We’ve been here for far too long, and I need lunch,” says Chris. The bus pulls up and everyone files in.
“Whooooo! I can’t believe we won that challenge!” says Roald. “Haha, Boris and I are really becoming buds, I think! The more we put our muscles to the test, the more challenges we’ll win! I’m so proud of the dude!”
“I’m telling you, Artemis, there’s no way there are any eggs left,” says Kaitlin, who is still in the cafe/gift shop area, with Frances jotting down notes only feet away.
“Or is that what Chris wants you to believe?” asks Artemis.
“Seriously, we gotta GO, I’m getting real tired of this,” says Kaitlin.
“Fine, then,” says Artemis. “Nobody’s stopping you. But I won’t rest until I buy out all the merchandise in this gift shop, sell it online and scam the crap out of some losers, and find at least three more eggs. Peace.”
“This… is fascinating,” says Frances.
Kaitlin turns around and gasps. “Wait, you’re still here too?! Goddamnit, I was hoping this would be a solo scene!” she whines.
“Maybe I’ll just kill all my teammates in their sleep tonight. Then I’ll finally get the attention I deserve,” says Kaitlin. “Wait, was that too dark? I feel like it was. Ugh, back to square one.”
Back at the Killer Wildcats’ dorm, the contestants are getting restless right before the elimination ceremony.
“Okay, listen,” whispers Kingsley. “We’re still going through with the plan, right? I want you to do the networking with our teammates. They’ll trust you more.”
“Wow, that was a lot at once,” says Erica. “But yeah, that’s the plan. I… guess I’ll go talk to them.”
“Yas,” says Kingsley. “We stan a social legend. This is gonna be sooooo good.”
In the other room, the entire rest of the team is sitting on a bed and attempting to strategize except Christian, who is on the floor juuling.
“Dude, why are you even in here? I thought you didn’t care about us,” says Miles to Christian.
“Yeah man, I don’t really,” says Christian. “But listen, we gotta vote someone out. I’m thinking Kingsley. Sound good? He’s a snake, right?”
“Sure,” shrugs Kelsey. “I mean, I haven’t really talked to him. Has anyone?”
“Nah,” says Christian. “Guy’s a weirdo. Anyway, I’m out.” He gets up and walks out of the room, right as Erica walks in.
“Hi, guys!” she says, as everyone shares glances with each other. “So that’s… his idea of strategizing?”
“The funny thing is, I was planning on voting for him,” says Graham quietly. “But I’m pretty undecided now…”
“You should be,” says Erica. “Things are intense tonight. Kingsley’s on a crusade to get Christian out, and I think vice versa.”
“Ugh, strategy is exhausting…” says Miles as he pulls his blanket up.
“Do this instead!” suggests Rachel. “I’m making a little bed for our new eggy friend.” She holds up a structure made out of leaves, fabric, and popsicle sticks, with Eggsabella resting comfortably on top. “I’m going to gather more materials!”
“Sweet, I’ll come,” says Miles, throwing his blanket off and following Rachel outside.
“Well, now we’re down two strategic minds,” drawls Kelsey. “Strategy session over? I need to get two more paragraphs done for my thesis.”
“Yeah, I didn’t realize how emotionally taxing this would be!” says Graham. “I really do appreciate everyone here, so it hurts.”
Erica gets up. “I gotta go meet Kingsley,” she says. “And by ‘meet,’ I mean decide whether or not to vote him out. Bye!”
Once she leaves, Graham shudders. “She… slightly terrifies me.”
Christian is outside on the porch, doing the exact same activities he was while on the floor of the dorm. The front door opens and Erica peeks out, eventually sitting down right next to him.
“Listen,” she whispers seductively. “What’re you thinking for tonight?”
“Another day, another high-stress situation,” says Kelsey. “We seriously have to stop losing. I know I’m coming across as all calm and stuff right now, but my insides feel like a mush. I’m probably going to throw up at the elimination ceremony, maybe on Chris. Anyway, I’m voting Kingsley.”
“Aaaaah, I feel so good,” says Kingsley. “Christian? Say bye.”
“Rach and I collected so many flowers, and I felt like my soul had been revitalized…” gushes Miles. “I feel so good around her, but like… not in the way I did around Jackie. It’s different. It’s fresh.”
“Hahaha, is it bad that I haven’t even thought about who to vote out?” Rachel wonders. “Miles is sweet. Now, I don’t like him romantically… like, at all. But I think if I’m able to get that boy to finally move past the heartbreak that’s been bothering him for years, it’d be wonderful.”
Chris meets the seven remaining Wildcats at the bandshell for the campfire ceremony, where the sun is setting peacefully on the lake.
“Welcome back, two-time losers,” says Chris. “Since I already went through the whole spiel last time, let’s just get to it, eh? Marshmallows go to Graham, Kelsey, Miles, and Rachel.”
He passes the four marshmallows, and they each catch one.
“Erica, have you been scheming? I think so,” says Chris. “But you’re safe.”
Erica catches her marshmallow. “Scheming? Uh, okay?”
“Christian, Kingsley,” says Chris, eyeing the two young men. “Lots of votes coming your way. In fact, every vote went to one of you two! Crazy how that works. Only one will be safe from the lakeside’s wrath today, however. The final marshmallow goes to…”
“Ayyyy! All riiiiiight,” says Christian, as he gulps down his marshmallow.
“WHAT?!” shrieks Kingsley. “Oh, no no no no no.” He pulls out his phone and instantly begins vlogging. “Hey fans, I am OUTRAGED. No time to explain. I want you ALL to get on your phones right now and tweet like crazy at that old, washed-up loser Chris McLean, and tell him—”
“Hey!” shouts Chris. “I’m not old!”
“And Erica, you?! You’re faker than faux fur,” says Kingsley. “I cannot believe I even trusted you for a second. Ladies, steer clear from this bitch, she knows EXACTLY what she’s doing and I can tell you it’s not pretty.”
Erica looks genuinely upset. “I’m sorry, I guess the strategy just didn’t work out! Love you though!”
“Yeah, sure,” huffs Kingsley. “Feeling not mutual. Anyway, uh, Christian, hit me up if you want. Everyone else, byeeeee.”
He storms away from the campfire ceremony and heads to the Yacht of Losers, where its horn drowns out the stream of expletives coming out of his mouth. The Wildcats all stare at each other, shrug, and walk back to camp.
“Well, that was… a lot of colorful language,” says Chris. “The censors are going to have a field day with that one! Anyway, tune in next time for even more drama, even more action, and hopefully much fewer Chef Hatchet screw-ups! Otherwise our staff will be one man short! We’ll see you then, on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
“That was a breeze,” says Erica. “Once Kingsley started plotting, I knew he had to go. Poor guy lapped up all the positive attention I gave him, even though I kinda hated him from the start. And now Christian and I are tight as tight can be!” She pauses. “Wait, was that too mean? Is high school Erica coming out again? Oh no. I have to work on my social game! Girl gang, I’m coming back to you!”
Chapter 4 - Canoe Pornographers
“Last time on Total Drama Lakeside!” announces Chris, who’s wearing a tacky Hawaiian shirt, beach shorts, sunglasses, and a straw hat. “I sent the contestants out to the McLean Memorial Botanic Garden, which was most definitely named after me, Chef knows nothing. There, they competed in a grueling game of ‘find the eggs,’ and things got real intense real quick. Actually, they didn’t, it was one of the most boring challenges I’ve ever seen. EVER. And I had to watch that whale-watching garbage in Tokyo. So somehow, thanks to Chef being as incompetent as usual, the Artisanal Cheeses won their second challenge in a row after gym rats Rhett and Roald, and I guess Boris, stumbled upon a secret stash of unhidden eggs! The Wildcats had to claw their way to the campfire ceremony, where Kingsley was booted after his secret alliance with Erica and plan to take out fan-favorite Christian was revealed. Or maybe Erica was just being manipulative? It’s hard to know with that one. Now, if you couldn’t tell by my gorgeous outfit, today’s our first beach challenge! How wet will these lake-goers get? Will I ruin my perm? Wait, I don’t want to know the answer to that. Anyway, find out right here, right now on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
Immediately after the elimination ceremony, the Killer Wildcats silently pile back into their dorm and get into their pajamas.
“So does anyone actually want to talk about that?” asks Christian after a long silence. “Because I don’t.”
“Yeah, me either,” says Kelsey. “Repress, repress, repress. Night, everyone.”
“Whoa!” gasps Graham. “Miles, it’s awful late.”
“Listen,” he continues. “I can’t stop thinking about collecting all that nature with Rachel... Can you try to ask her about me tomorrow? Put in a good word for me, maybe?”
Graham starts to look slightly uncomfortable. “Tomorrow?! I mean...” he stammers. “Yeah, of course I can. Yes. Definitely.”
“Thanks, dude,” says Miles. “I’m going to bed now. Can’t wait to dream about her…”
“My buddies tried to find me a rebound after things ended with Jackie…” says Miles. “But it was just failure after failure. Jenny got up and left after five minutes of our first date, Cecilia didn’t even show up to our first date, and Maggie banged my former bandmate Sam… @#$% you, Sam. But Rachel… she’s a new dawn.”
“This is not good,” says Graham nervously. “I can’t even imagine the look on Miles’s face when he finds out Rachel is only interested in him platonically! I know it’s all an issue of his maturity, or maybe lack thereof, but if his soul is tortured over both her AND Jackie… that’d be bad.”
Rachel is brushing her teeth in the bathroom. The door swings open and in comes Erica, smiling wide and clutching her toiletries.
“Hey, girl!” she says.
Rachel looks at her, then spits out her toothpaste into the sink and takes a big swig of water. “Hello, Erica,” she says. “A little late for a chat, huh?”
“Well, you’re still awake,” says Erica. “Wait, you brush your teeth? Don’t types like you not do that, for the natural scent or whatever?”
“Oh, you see, this toothpaste is organic,” states Rachel. “It’s made of chamomile flower, coconut oil, and hemp.”
“Coconut oil?!” gasps Erica. “Coconut oil saved my life. I mean it. Like, my boyfriend and I used to not be able to… do it, but then I started using it as lube and it loosened things u—”
“Uh, that’s great and all, but…” says Rachel. “Is this the first time we’ve ever talked?”
“Maybe? Whatever, I don’t know,” says Erica. “Deep late-night chats! Aren’t they great?”
“Yeah?” smiles Rachel apprehensively. “I’m gonna go to bed now. Sleep tight.”
She walks out of the room, and Erica grumbles to herself, “So much for sisterly bonding.”
“Oh, come on, I was totally nice to that girl,” complains Erica. “I started out by asking her personal questions—you know, the toothpaste thing—and then I contributed a shockingly intimate story that revealed hidden depths about myself! What more does she need to be my friend?!”
The morning arrives, and Chris’s voice emanates from the loudspeakers. “Contestants! Head to the lake in thirty minutes with your finest beachwear for your very first water challenge!”
“WHOOOOOOOOO!” yells a voice from the Cheeses’ dorm.
“Those voices!” shrieks a sleeping mask-clad Suvir. “Are the aliens finally here?! Pack it up, this is the end!”
“Naw, bruther!” says Rhett, rolling out of bed completely naked. “It’s jus’ Roald! He’s excited, an’ I don’t blame th’ guy! We’re swimmin’!”
“Do you know how to swim?” asks Whitney, walking in unannounced.
“I mean…” falters Rhett. “I’ve been down to th’ bayou with m’ dad. We wade around in th’ mud.”
“More importantly, why are you naked?” adds a confused Frances.
“Why ain’t you?!” laughs Rhett. “I didn’t have th’ time to pack swimmin’ clothes. I’m swimmin’ in my birthday suit!”
“Well, that’s enough for today,” says Whitney, as she walks right out.
Roald bounces up to Boris, who is sitting in his bed watching anime on his laptop with a pair of gigantic headphones shaped like cats.
“Yo! Buddy! Listen up!” he says, tapping Boris on the shoulder.
Boris doesn’t budge at all, his eyes focused completely on the screen, and Roald continues tapping him, until after around ten seconds he finally snaps and throws off his headphones.
“What is it?!” roars Boris. “I was just in the middle of a very steamy scene! One does not simply achieve that entertainment level every day!”
“We’re doing a swimming challenge today, man! I’m an expert swimmer and I’m sure you are too!” says Roald. “C’mon, let’s pack in some nutrients!”
“Hmm,” thinks Boris. “Ah, yes!”
He runs over to his suitcase and unpacks what looks like a giant bottle filled to the brim with chocolate milk.
“Whenever I am not in the mood for Mountain Fizz, this does the trick,” says Boris. “I am chocolate milk obsessed!”
“Choccy milk? I mean, I like that stuff, but…” says Roald. “I was thinkin’ something a little more energizing that’ll give you the pep you need?”
“I do not need any pep, you squire!” hisses Boris. “But I suppose I could drink coffee. They call me the Coffee Prosecutor for a reason!”
“Nah, not coffee either,” says Roald, as he takes out a giant jar of white powder. “This!”
“What’s that? Are you trying to poison me?!” yells Boris.
Rhett’s eyes widen as he walks over. “Wait, ain’t that crack?”
“Crack?!” shrieks another voice. Kaitlin comes out of her room and rushes over to the boys.
“Sure thing, I know it when I see it,” says Rhett. “M’ second cousin was big into that kinda stuff. Think he’s in prison now.”
“Chillax, b-b-buddy, that’s no crack!” assures Roald. “This, my friends, is creatine. Brochacho, if you take this stuff you’ll turn into a demigod! You might get watery poops, but man, is it worth it!”
Boris grabs the jar of creatine from Roald’s hands. “I see. I shall consider it.”
“Goddamnit, those guys totally fooled me,” grumbles Kaitlin. “I heard crack and I came running. I mean, not that I’ve had any sort of history with crack. Definitely not. They do drug tests and shit before the show, right?”
“When I awoke this morning, I noticed my body appeared to be slightly more toned,” says Boris. “For all his infuriating personality traits, that Roald is helping me out quite a bit. All those roasties on the other team will flock to me once I showcase my chiseled beach physique!”
In their respective bathroom, the female Cheeses are attempting to get ready for the challenge.
“Okay, girlfriends, so here’s what I’m thinking,” says Kaitlin in an oddly cheerful manner. “We gotta look as TV-friendly as possible today.”
“I always look TV-friendly,” says Artemis, who is wearing heavy makeup and an incredibly revealing cow-print bikini.
“Artemis?” says Kaitlin. “What the hell is that?”
Whitney exits from a bathroom stall in a lavender one-piece and glances at Artemis’ suit. “For the first time in my life, I second Kaitlin.”
“Pssssh, come on,” protests Artemis. “If you want to look TV-friendly, you have to make a statement, and that’s what this is.”
“It certainly is,” says Frances, appearing out of thin air with Suvir trailing behind her. “At this rate, we’ll be in the tabloids within seconds.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you’re not supposed to be in here!” snaps Kaitlin.
“Listen,” explains Frances. “He’s not too thrilled about the men’s room. Said he was trying to avoid the ‘bathroom gremlins,’ so he’s… here, with us.”
“They’re a very real concern!” shouts Suvir. “And I ain’t just talking about Boris!”
“Fine, whatever,” says Kaitlin. “You guys can have your fun with tabloids and bathroom gremlins and disgusting cow bikinis. I, on the other hand, am a classy woman with classy tastes, and THAT’S what the cameras want.”
She storms out of the bathroom, leaving the rest of the Cheeses staring at each other in befuddlement.
“She’s in a great mood today,” murmurs Whitney.
“Oh, Kaitlin,” says Artemis. “I’m growing rather sick of her. Maybe today I’ll try to branch out, talk to the hunks on our team instead. Less drama, more sex appeal. That’s what mama likes.”
Meanwhile, the Killer Wildcats are also getting ready for the challenge, with varying levels of success.
“That swimsuit is so cute,” says Erica to Rachel, who is cradling Eggsabella in her arms. “Like, it’s simple but stylish. Love it!”
Before Rachel can respond, Christian walks out of the bathroom looking tanner than usual and wearing a swimsuit designed after the American flag.
“What up?” he says coolly.
“Dude, that suit is ridiculous,” says Miles. “Nobody cares about how much you love the USA or whatever… It’ll just screw you over.”
“You’re right, the government is killing our Mother Earth,” says Rachel. Miles grins. “But Christian, that suit IS pretty striking…” He stops grinning.
“Yeah, I know,” says Christian. “Picked it up for 20 bucks cheaper than usual. You can keep admiring it if you want.”
“There’s nothing about you that I’m admiring…” grumbles Miles.
“Bro, what gives? Are you jealous of my beach bod? Your skin’s basically see-through, so I get it, but c’mon,” says Christian.
Miles is about to say something else, but Kelsey walks out and everyone gasps. She is wearing a nice enough bikini, but has massive bags under her bloodshot eyes and looks paler than usual.
“Kelsey?” squeaks Rachel. “Is… everything okay?”
“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” says Kelsey. “Why wouldn’t I be? Everyone ready for the challenge?”
“Did you get a good night’s sleep?” asks Erica.
“Of course I did,” laughs Kelsey uncomfortably as she starts walking. “Seriously, you guys, we’re gonna be late.”
“It’s not that I didn’t get a good night’s sleep per se,” says Kelsey. “I didn’t get ANY sleep. Not a second. I was up all night thinking about how we’ve lost twice in a row, and how nobody else on the team even cares about our success in this game. I’m absolutely freaking out, but I cannot let my teammates know that. I just have to relax, do some calm assertive leadership, and we’ll finally win. Deep breaths, Kelsey.” She takes half a deep breath, then starts sobbing.
The 14 remaining contestants, all wearing their swimsuits except for Suvir, convene on the beach right in front of a small boathouse to meet Chris.
“Sorry I’m a little late,” says Graham, walking up to his teammates.
“Uh, what are you wearing?” asks Erica, staring at his unique two-piece striped bathing suit.
“Vintage swimwear!” says Graham. “It’s comfy, stylish, and practical. I’m very excited to debut it for this challenge.” He looks over at the Cheeses and shoots Whitney a grin.
“You look like an escaped convict,” says Whitney.
Graham quickly looks away. “That’s a compliment, right?” he whispers to his teammates, who don’t say anything in response.
Out of nowhere, Chris finally shows up, still in his cheesy Hawaiian outfit and drinking a pina colada.
“What’s chillin’?” he asks, flashing a peace sign. After nobody says anything, he mutters something explicit to himself then keeps talking. “Fine, whatever, I guess I won’t try to make the challenges fun or anything. It’s your guys’ loss.”
“Uh, Chris, whut’s th’ challenge? We really swimmin’?” asks a still-naked Rhett.
“And you’re not wearing clothes why?” asks Chris. “Jeez, the censors are going to be rolling in the dough after tonight. But to answer your question, no, you’re not swimming! This is a little challenge I like to call ‘Capture the Flag: Canoe Style.’” Everyone groans. “You’ll all be divided up into pairs of two, and each team will occupy half of the playing field in the lake. There will be a flag with your team color on top of a buoy at the edge of the boundaries, and your goal is to snatch that flag from the other team’s buoy and paddle back alive! To spice things up a bit, we’ve added ammo to the canoes in the form of water balloons. If you throw a balloon at someone from the opposing team who’s on your side, they’ll have to paddle all the way back to their side, but you can only throw one balloon at a time. Got it? Oh, and of course, this challenge will test your teamwork and whatever, but I don’t really care about that part.”
“Chris?” asks Suvir. “Is this challenge mandatory? Large bodies of water freak me out!”
“Ugh, I knew that’d come up,” says Chris. “Well, I guess since the Cheeses are up two members, you can sit out on that bench over there. You and one ot—”
Before he even finishes his sentence, both Whitney and Kaitlin begin walking to the bench.
“Watch it, what do you think you’re doing?!” snaps Kaitlin.
“Not this challenge, that’s for sure,” says Whitney.
“Okay, well, neither am I,” says Kaitlin. “I bet there’s all sorts of gross shit in the lake. I could get AIDS.”
Roald gives Whitney a wave. “C’mon, Whitty-bo-bitty! You and I can canoe together! It’ll be all sorts of wild ‘n’ wacky!”
“That’s actually more of a reason for me to sit out,” says Whitney.
Chris gasps. “Wait, the ratings would love that! You two together would be comedy GOLD. I’m giggling just thinking about it. So that means Kaitlin, you get to sit out with Suvir, and Whitney, you’ll be competing!”
Whitney gives both Chris and Roald a fiery glare while Kaitlin smugly waves at her and walks over to the sit-out bench.
“Excuse me?” asks Rachel, following Kaitlin to the sit-out bench. “Would you be generous enough to look over my egg friend? I think she’s close to hatching, and I would hate for her to not make it there.”
“What the hell?” Kaitlin eyes the egg-pouch. “Yeah, sure, I guess.” She snatches the egg from Rachel’s arms and sits down on the bench.
Miles cautiously raises his hand. “Uh, can we pick our partners…” he asks meekly.
“Nope!” says Chris. “I know you guys too well, and I’m confident you’d just go to your usual favorites if I let you choose. There’s nothing fun about it. We’re gonna mix things up!” Everyone begins cursing under their breath. “So for the Cheeses, we have…” He clears his throat. “Roald and Whitney, as I said.”
“Shoosh yeah!” yells Roald, throwing his meaty arm around Whitney’s shoulder. “You’re gonna see the most extremest canoe-paddling this side of Antarctica!”
“Frances, you’ll be with Rhett, and that leaves Artemis and Boris,” says Chris.
“Balderdash!” says Boris. “I doubt our canoe will even stay above water for one minute!”
“Oh, please,” retorts Artemis. “If you’re implying I’m the big one here, my body is more voluptuous than yours will ever be. You look like a pack of lunchmeat.”
“Rhett and I haven’t spoken once, as far as I know,” says Frances. “And I’m not too thrilled about the fact he’ll be naked for the entire challenge. However, he does seem relatively harmless, and if the cameras avoid him like I predict, then we’ll be able to sneak through the shadows and win.”
Frances tries to inch away from Rhett and towards the canoes, but he quickly intercepts her.
“Howdy!” says Rhett. “You an’ I are gon’ have all sorts o’ fun! Like, more fun than Roald an’ Whitney times twenty billion!”
“Meh, fine with me,” says Frances, taking out her notepad and putting a waterproof bag around it.
“Now for the Wildcats!” Chris announces. “Heh-heh, this is gonna be awesome. Graham and Rachel will be in the first canoe!”
Miles looks at Graham in deep envy, and whispers, “Dude, I’m counting on you…”
Graham gulps. “Of course! I w-w-wouldn’t let you down, friend.” He walks up to Rachel, who smiles at him and the two walk to their canoe.
“Miles and Erica will be our second pair,” says Chris. “Which leaves Kelsey and Christian!”
“Okay, Christian,” says Kelsey. “This is gonna be… fine. We totally got this. Let’s just get in there and kick some butt, okay?” Her right eye twitches.
Christian says nothing for a second, then leans in and whispers, “Hey, uh… are you on coke? If you are, mind letting your boy do a line before the challenge? I need an extra kick.”
“What?” asks Kelsey. “No. Just, uh, motivated and ready to win.”
Christian shrugs. “Fine with that. All I do is win.” The two head over to their canoe.
A few feet to the right, Erica tries to pick up the massive canoe by herself but then drops it. She eyes Miles, who is slumped over on the ground and writing something in the sand with a stick.
“Uh, a little help here?” she asks passive-aggressively. “We’re gonna have to cooperate if we want to win, you know.”
“Yeah, whatever…” says Miles. “I can’t believe I wasn’t paired with Rachel…”
Erica rolls her eyes. “Come on. I’m just as upset as you are, but whining about it is gonna do nothing. So let’s do this?” She flashes her classic grin.
“Yeah, whatever…” repeats Miles.
“I swear, the day I finally decide to branch out and work my social game on the other girls, Chris pairs me with HIM?!” says a disgusted Erica. “It’s my worst-case scenario. At least Graham is slightly more normal, and Christian is my little crush, but Miles is just a whiny sadboy. I guess I should try to ‘bond’ with him or something, but what do we have in common? Nothing.”
Everyone is now paired up in their canoes, scattered about on opposite sides of the lake. A row of buoys marks the boundaries, with one golden buoy holding a flag at the edge of each side, and a thin rope divides the two teams in the middle. Chris is relaxing in a lawn chair with a speedo-clad Chef sitting next to him, reading another mystery novel.
“Okay!” yells Chris through a megaphone. “Challenge starts in 5… 4… 3… 2...”
“Ay, Chris, shouldn’t we give ‘em some time to strategize?” suggests Chef, looking up from his book.
“Nah,” says Chris. “They’re fiiiine.” He raises his voice once again, then blows his horn. “GO!”
As the contestants attempt to awkwardly paddle around the lake, Suvir and Kaitlin watch on from the sit-out bench—or rather, Suvir watches while Kaitlin concentrates on peeling her toenails.
“Scary, huh?” he says. “I’ll bet you at least ten bucks someone’s gonna dragged underneath by a lake kraken!”
“Okay, I’m really trying to focus here, so mind shutting up for like two hours?” asks Kaitlin, reluctantly holding Eggsabella in her lap.
“Focus on what?!” says Suvir. “These are important truths I’m leaking! You should feel lucky to even hear ‘em!”
“Focus on not killing myself. I’ll feel lucky if I get through this afternoon without blowing my goddamn brains out, okay?” snaps Kaitlin.
“Man, it’s a good thing I barely tried to talk to Kaitlin until now, she’s the worst!” says Suvir. “It’s probably her bird genes! They make her all squawky and cranky and stuff, I bet. That’s what happens when you’re genetically modified! Wake up, Lakeside!”
“Wildcats!” says Kelsey, as she violently paddles from the front of her canoe. “No time for strategy, but Christian and I are going to attack! Everyone else, stay here or whatever!”
A relaxed-looking Christian sits up. “Attack? Whuh? Aw, c’mon, I was hoping we’d be defense—”
“ATTACK!” says Kelsey harshly. Christian winces and starts paddling faster.
Graham glances at Erica and Miles, who are floating lifelessly on the other side of the flag. “So we’re guarding then, huh?” he says to Rachel.
“Seems so,” says Rachel. “I have no complaints! What a perfect day to just take in the lake’s beauty.”
“Right,” nods Graham. He glances at Miles again, who’s limply paddling with one arm while Erica shoots daggers at him. “So, er, what do you think about Miles?”
“What do I think?” laughs Rachel. “He’s friendly, and his heart’s in the right place. I guess he’s pretty fun to talk to.”
“Ah,” says Graham. “Well, I agree.” He pauses for an awkward amount of time. “Is that it?”
“Are you asking if I like him in that way?” asks Rachel. “No, sadly. He’s great, but there’s no way he’s gotten over Jackie, and I’d feel awful toying with him like that.”
Graham’s face turns bright red and he starts to sweat. “Oh, okay, I… understand. Let’s focus on the challenge now, I guess?” Rachel nods slightly, confused.
On the opposite side of the arena, the Cheeses are scattered about with no discernible strategy. Artemis and Boris are paddling in circles around the buoy, while the other two pairs are attempting to divide and conquer.
“I wish I had my laptop with me! I could be playing immense amounts of Poki Poki Math Club right now!” whines Boris.
Artemis looks at their canoe, which is sinking slightly into the water on Boris’s side. “Remind me again what you said about me sinking the canoe?”
Boris looks down and gasps. “Behold! My newfound muscle mass has finally set in!”
“Muscles?! That’s absurd,” says Artemis, rolling her eyes. “Boris, you will NEVER be a beefcake.”
“That is fine!” he retorts. “I no longer need your silly validation. I have ascended from virgin-tier and am now a Brad! One step closer to Chad-dom!”
“Awright, Franny,” says Rhett, in the front of his canoe and making a beeline to the Wildcats’ side. “Now what ya gotta do here is similar to herdin’ cows!”
“Tell me more,” says Frances, looking at her notepad through the plastic bag cover.
“Yeeehaw, now we’re talkin’,” says Rhett. “If yer tryin’ to get cows’ attention, ya can’t sneak up on ‘em too much. Just gotta barrel in like a big ol’ bullet and scare ‘em into the corner!”
“This may be good content,” mutters Frances to herself. “Okay, keep talking!”
“I could keep talkin’ all day, now don’t you worry!” says Rhett jubilantly.
“Sure, she’s kinda quiet, but Franny an’ I are havin’ so much fun! It’s been a heckuva time!” whoops Rhett. “Who needs the gym when you got that, man?”
On the other side of Rhett and Frances, seemingly stationary in their canoe, Whitney is wearing a completely defeated expression in the back while Roald is making low grunting noises.
Whitney finally breaks the silence. “Okay, Roald, you smell awful.”
“Do I?! Aw man, I must’ve gotten so hyped up that I forgot to put on my deodorant,” says Roald. “Sorry, Whitto! Wanna go sneak attack the Wildcats?”
“Not particularly,” says Whitney.
Roald cheers loudly. “That’s the enthusiasm I LOVE to see!”
He starts paddling so ferociously that the whole canoe is dragged along with him, despite Whitney not paddling at all.
Kelsey watches on as the Cheeses attempt to go on the offense. “Okay, Christian,” she says. “They’re coming. Look, they’re almost here. We have to go. Come on. Let’s do this.”
“Yo, we tried to attack five minutes ago and you freaked out and turned around right away,” says Christian.
“Yeah? So?” says Kelsey. “I wasn’t ready, physically or emotionally. But now I am. Let’s go!”
“We gonna just do a straight shot to the flag?” asks Christian.
“Of course we’re going to do a straight shot, Christian, what else do you expect me to come up with?! This is a high-stress environment!” says Kelsey, raising her voice and beginning to paddle.
“Yeah, tell me about it,” mutters Christian.
Kelsey’s paddling starts to pick up speed and Christian eventually joins in. “You know, I heard that,” she says. “And I don’t think that’s a very productive thing to say, especially when the person you’re saying it to isn’t feeling great in the first place and so you end up just salting the wound, you know?” The canoe crosses the boundary onto the other side, causing Artemis and Boris to notice the onslaught. “So when you want to make a snarky comment, maybe instead stop and think about how it might affect me, or our chances of winning? I really don’t want to sound like a bitch or anything but it’s been a rough day and I’m desperately trying to hold it in, and it’s HARD.” Artemis and Boris start paddling towards the canoe, but she continues to talk. “And I really want to win this challenge, and I’m trying my best, and I do respect you as a person which is why I’m so concerned, but I just—”
Christian, who has been juuling the entire time, suddenly pipes up. “Yo! Kelsey! Sharp turn left!”
“Huh?!” retorts Kelsey. “You gotta say these things ahead of time, or else—”
A massive wave comes out of nowhere and swamps Kelsey, partially hitting Christian as well, flipping the canoe over, and dumping them both into the water.
Kelsey resurfaces and spits out a mouthful of water. “That was a mistake.”
A visibly teary Christian comes up as well. “Jesus, my hair is ruined,” he blubbers. “I spent three hours on it this morning. Three, man!”
Boris and Artemis suddenly arrive in their canoe, and an evilly grinning Boris holds up two water balloons and gestures towards Christian.
“At least we’re already wet, I guess…” says Kelsey.
Boris flings the water balloon at Christian and it smacks him right in the face and explodes, causing him to gag.
“Th-th-that’s NOT water!” he yells.
“I’m done,” says a shivering, towel-wrapped Christian. “Just vote me out. Take me back to Isabella. This is too @#$%in’ much.”
Over by the Killer Wildcats’ flag, Miles and Erica are still floating lifelessly in their canoe while their teammates paddle elsewhere.
“So the second we met, I thought he was just the sweetest boy,” says Erica, in the middle of an extensive story. “And you know, that scared me since I usually don’t go for sweet guys at ALL. I like jocks, guys like Christian, because they’re the sexiest. I wouldn’t call Jake sexy, but he has this adorable charm like he’s a little teddy bear or puppy or something, and he just drew me right in!”
“Mm,” grunts Miles.
“And I have this other guy friend who I kinda had a thing for, and once when we were shopping at Victor’s Secret I told him I could see us dating in the future which made him suuuuper uncomfortable, and you know, it made ME uncomfortable too but I said it anyway, and it got even weirder when Jake and I started dating three weeks later,” continues Erica. “Then Jake went to go study abroad in Ecuador, which was heartbreaking since I missed him so much, but then one night at a party I got really drunk and things got pretty touchy-feely with that OTHER guy friend, and one thing led to another, and…”
“I think I’ve heard enough…” says Miles.
“Oh, was that weird? I’m sorry, I just thought it would be some good intimate bonding, you know? Set aside our differences and get to know each other?” says Erica rather sweetly.
Out of nowhere, Miles utters a primal roar several decibels louder than his normal speaking voice, picks up one of the canoe’s water balloons, and chucks it at Erica. The balloon splashes onto the back of Erica’s head and explodes.
“TAKE THAT, JACKIE!” he screams.
“What was that for? Who’s Jackie?!” yells Erica. “Ugh, I knew this was a bad idea! I’m done talking to you!” She turns away from Miles and starts frustratedly paddling.
“I don’t know what got into me, but I’m seeing her everywhere…” says a shell-shocked Miles in the confessional. “I recognize the pain of being cheated on, and to see that Erica is just as much of a heartless succubus is sad but not surprising… She needs to go.”
“Okay, Whitters, here’s the game plan,” strategizes Roald, guiding the canoe through a shortcut. “I’m ready to roll, and I think the creatine is finally workin’ its magic! So we sneak up behind those two over there, because they’re totes distracted,” he beckons to Graham and Rachel, “and zip zap zoom, we grab the flag!”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” says Whitney.
Roald giggles as his canoe approaches the Wildcats’ buoy. “C’mon, you know you lucked out being paired with a challenge beast like me!”
Whitney stares at him, then laughs loudly and mockingly. “Good god, that’s your best one yet,” she says.
As the two approach the flag, Graham watches from a distance as Roald says something and Whitney laughs loudly in response. He stares blankly towards the canoe with his mouth hanging slightly open.
“Uh, Rachel, I think we’ve got some visitors,” he says.
“Oh!” says a sunbathing Rachel, who abruptly sits up and grabs her paddle. “Good eye, Graham, I won’t let us lose.” She starts gently paddling, then glimpses Graham paddling much more urgently.
“I’m sorry, I’m just very invested in this challenge!” says Graham sheepishly. “Let’s go!”
The two paddle over to the enemy canoe, and while the duo of Cheeses attempts to slip past them and get to the flag, Graham picks up two water balloons and lobs them both at Roald’s face at once, hitting him from both sides.
Chris blows his whistle loudly from the beach. “HEY! One balloon at a time, Wildcats! You do that again, you’re disqualified!”
“Aw, so close!” says a sopping wet Roald. “Well played, Mr. Mustachio Man!”
“Remind me again what you said about being a challenge beast,” says Whitney as the two paddle back to their side.
“Chin up, bruther!” greets Rhett to his defeated teammates. “Ain’t nobody lost just yet!”
“Hey, Rhett, mind continuing your story from earlier? That was some super interesting stuff,” says Frances without a hint of sarcasm.
“‘Course!” says Rhett. “Okay, where was I, somethin’ about Uncle Cousin Lester gettin’ trampled last summer…”
Once the Cheeses are gone, Rachel looks at Graham. “Are you okay? That was pretty aggressive, especially for you. I can take over paddling duties if you’d like to meditate?”
“N-n-no, I’m fine,” stutters a red-faced Graham. Rachel looks at him skeptically. “Okay, I’m not fine at all! Today has been very high-stress. Miles asked me earlier to put in a good word for him, since he’s essentially in love with you, and I think you’re completely justified in not feeling the same way, but he’s going to be heartbroken and seeing that is going to pain me, and then seeing Whitney, who I’M essentially in love with, chumming it up with Roald also pained me. That’s where the double balloons came in.” He sighs. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh no, it’s completely fine!” says Rachel. “That’s must be awfully overwhelming. You can tell Miles whatever you want in the meantime, I’ll talk to him one-on-one. He deserves that. As for the Whitney thing, don’t worry, I think she hates Roald. Actually, I think she hates all of us.”
“Ugh, that’s what Kelsey said too,” says Graham. “But I don’t know, I can’t help but feel that there’s more to her hidden underneath.”
“Oh, isn’t that the case with everyone?” says Rachel. “I’m sure her soul is lovely. Now we’ve got a flag to guard.”
“Truthfully, I doubt her soul is lovely, but in that moment I just needed to comfort Graham,” says Rachel. “I’m not surprised at all that he’s into Whitney, but I truly hope it’s just a casual crush. Otherwise, it could reach Jackie levels, and I don’t think the Wildcats have room for two emotionally distraught romantics.”
Meanwhile, on the sit-out bench, Kaitlin seems to be desperately trying to hold in rage, while Suvir is chatting it up in a one-sided conversation.
“I dunno what’s in that egg, but I’m telling you, it ain’t gonna be pretty,” says Suvir. “It’s probably a GMO! Like a three-headed duck or something!”
“Okay, that’s great,” says Kaitlin. “That’s really great. Thanks for sharing.”
“Yeah, of course!” says Suvir. “See, I’m just trying to spread awareness. That’s why I even came on this hell pit of a show in the first place! Seeing all these cameras everywhere is freaking me out, but I gotta focus on the bigger picture!”
“Wait. Cameras?” says Kaitlin, then she gasps. “Christ, I look awful. Do I look awful today? How’s my makeup?”
“I’m not a makeup guru, how am I supposed to answer that?” says Suvir.
“By looking at my goddamn face, you bozo, how else?!” screeches Kaitlin. “I need to look presentable at all times! Otherwise they’ll say I’m some gangly whore!”
Suvir looks down at Kaitlin’s lap while she continues screaming into his face. Eggsabella is visibly starting to shake and crack, and small noises are emanating from it.
“Uh…” says Suvir, recoiling in fear. “Egg…”
“What about the egg?!” yells Kaitlin.
Sure enough, she looks down onto her lap to see that the egg is starting to hatch. The top of the egg bursts open and out pops a tiny, hairy, pink bird hatchling.
“Ohhhh man, what is that thing?” shudders Suvir.
The baby bird hops out of the egg and crawls onto Kaitlin’s arm, then steadily makes its way up to her shoulder. It looks her straight in the eye and chirps, “Mama?”
“Great, I’m a mom now,” says Kaitlin, as the bird climbs all over her. “At least I didn’t have to get pregnant this time. Been there, done that. It’s not fun.”
Back in the water, the three Cheese canoes are all lined up near their buoy while the Wildcats’ canoes are scattered about and all seem to be in the middle of conversation.
“Okay, Cheeses,” says Artemis forcefully. “It’s time to STRIKE. Boris, honey, it’s now or never. That goes for the lovers as well.” She gestures to Roald and Whitney.
“Why don’t I just drown myself in this lake instead,” says Whitney.
“No more squabbling!” bellows Boris. “It is time for us to win! With my newfound bulging muscles, I am even more of an asset!”
“Oh, don’t get ahead of yourself,” says Artemis, rolling her eyes. “You’ve only been going to the gym for two days. Still not a beefcake.”
“But it’s given him the confidence he needs!” says a grinning Roald. “I gotta respect that! You GOT this, B-Man!”
“Yeah, let’s just go,” says Whitney.
Intense music starts playing, seemingly on cue, as Boris and Artemis drift one way in their canoe while Roald and Whitney go the other. They both cross over to the Wildcats’ boundaries, which sends Graham and Rachel on high alert and the two start paddling over.
In her canoe, Erica flashes a grin at a half-asleep Miles. “I think we should be participating!” she says, and they reluctantly paddle the way of the Cheeses as well.
“This is good,” says Kelsey, looking on at the bloodbath from the outskirts of the arena. “This is really, really good. We can do it, huh?”
“I mean, I dunno, I guess?” responds an apathetic Christian. “Are you gonna yell at me to paddle now or something?”
“No, I won’t yell,” says Kelsey. “Yet.” She laughs stiffly as the two begin to slowly inch their way to the Cheeses’ side.
“Make no mistake, I’d still take like any girl back at home over her, but all her screaming at me today made me realize Kelsey’s kinda hot,” says Christian. “Now I don’t like getting bossed around anywhere except the bedroom, but man, I could see us making love like gorillas.”
After a heavy amount of frantic paddling that won’t be discussed in detail, Boris and Artemis’s canoe is face-to-face with Miles and Erica. Miles grabs one of the water balloons and chucks it at the Cheeses.
“SHORYUKEN!” screams Boris.
He somehow rises up from the canoe in slow-motion, jumps into the air like a whale diving out of the ocean, and sticks out his massive stomach. The balloon ricochets off of it without exploding, then flies back and hits Erica in the face.
“This is fine!” says a smiling, drenched Erica. “Wait, is this even water?!”
“Ha! You knaves, I have bested you!” says Boris. “Artemis, it is time for our final stri—”
Before he can finish, a balloon comes from behind and hits his back. Rachel smiles sympathetically from afar.
“It’s the thought that counts,” deadpans Artemis as the two start paddling back.
“Man, I’m too proud of Boris, it brings a tear to my eye,” says Roald. “I know he’s probably bluffin’ about being that strong, but I’m just happy he’s having fun! The guy was all salty about everything just yesterday, and I just knew the gym would lift his spirits!”
“So then Ma was like, ‘I don’t wanna clean it up!’ and Peepaw was like, ‘It’s in the middle of the kitchen, Kelly Sue, you gotta!’ and I just started hollerin’!” says Rhett. “Boy, my horse is too funny!”
“This is… fascinating,” says Frances. “Wait. Rhett, you mind keeping an eye out on the Wildcats? I almost want to take notes.”
“Notes! Yee, ‘course! I’d love to get my stories recorded,” says Rhett. “I gotcha covered, Franny!”
Frances eyes the zipped plastic bag on her lap that’s covering her notepad, then cautiously unzips the bag and pulls out her notes. She takes a pen from her pocket and starts frantically jotting things down.
“Uhhhh, we best get to steppin’ cuz Chris and Kels are a-comin’!” says Rhett.
Sure enough, the two are on their way to the flag, with the other two Cheese canoes still making their way back from Wildcat territory.
While paddling with one hand, Kelsey quickly checks her pulse. “This is HAPPENING, Christian! We’re about to finally win!”
“Like I said, all I do is win!” says Christian, attempting to sneakily pull out his juul again.
“Not yet!” says Kelsey, and he instantly puts it back.
“Sorry, could you repeat that?” asks Frances, still writing down notes with her paddle in her lap as Rhett speeds faster. “And jeez, why are we going so fast?” Rhett jerks the canoe to the right, causing the paddle in her lap to fall into the lake. “Wait, where’s my paddle?!”
“You lost it?! D’aw!” says Rhett. “That ain’t good! Hold on tight, I’m kickin’ it into high gear!”
Rhett clenches his fists and starts to concentrate, and the canoe begins to shake then starts roaring towards the Wildcat duo, who now have the flag and are paddling back.
“HOL’ ON! I’M TURNIN’ RIGHT!” warns Rhett.
“Wait, hold on, I’m almost—” says Frances, still with her notepad out. Rhett jerks the canoe to the right and she falls backwards, causing both her pen and notepad to plummet into the water and instantly sink. Frances looks at the water and utters a bloodcurdling scream.
“He’ll pay for that,” she says in a scarily quiet tone.
Christian and Kelsey make it to the middle of the arena and back to the Wildcats’ side with the flag in tow, and their other four teammates erupt in cheers.
“THE WILDCATS FINALLY WIN!” screams Chris into his megaphone. “Took you long enough!”
“Aw, Franny, you lost your book?!” says a disappointed Rhett. “Ah’m sorry, I didn’t know they could sink like that!”
“It’s fine,” says Frances calmly. “I have plenty more empty notebooks in my backpack.”
Back on the shore, Chris gathers the two teams. “Wildcats! Congrats,” he says. “You’ve narrowly managed to escape complete suckitude for the first time, so you should be proud of that. As for the Cheeses? Tough luck. Meet me at the bandshell tonight to dispose of your first team member.”
“I swear to God, I am completely done with you,” says Kaitlin, as she and Suvir approach the rest of the team from the sit-out bench. “Everyone, I’m voting this guy out. Who’s with me?”
“Huh-wha?” says Suvir. “Aw, come on! I was totally silent for the past 45 seconds!”
“Great strategy, Kaitlin,” says Artemis. “You’re truly showing your mastermind status. I’m just dumbstruck.”
“Can it, Artemis, or I’ll vote you out too,” snaps Kaitlin, as the rest of the Cheeses walk away.
“Maybe I will vote for her tonight,” says Artemis, shrugging. “It’d certainly be funny, and then I’d get to spend more time with the men. But on the less funny side, I’d no longer have anyone to make me look more charming, talented, and Rubenesque in comparison. Hard decision indeed.”
The Wildcats are gathered outside their dorm, celebrating their win with what looks like Chris’s leftover beer from the Awake-a-Thon.
“Hey, everyone?” says Kelsey. “Christian especially. Uh, I’m really sorry if I was acting… irrational earlier. I guess I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something?” She laughs nervously.
“Nah, we cool,” says Christian. “Bump it?” He holds out his fist for Kelsey to bump, and she does.
“I think we all put in wonderful amounts of effort today,” says Rachel. “The sun truly shined down on us!”
“Yeah, I’m fine with… getting a little wet,” says Erica, shuddering. “We did it! Yay us! Now we can have less stress, more bonding!”
“Mhm,” says Miles, looking at Erica with fire in his eyes.
“I’m gonna take a celebratory nap,” says Kelsey. “Who’s with me?” Graham, Miles, and Rachel stand up and follow her inside, leaving Christian and Erica outside.
“You did tremendously today,” says Graham to Kelsey as they head inside. “I’m really glad we’re teammates. Don’t worry about feeling down, it happens to us all from time to time. I’ll listen if you ever need to talk!”
“Really?” she responds. “That’s… super nice of you, Graham. You’re a cool dude.” She looks at her other teammates. “Actually, we’re all cool dudes here. Go ‘Cats!”
“That went a lot better than I expected it to,” Kelsey says in the confessional. “Hopefully all that ugly stuff will be swept under the rug by tomorrow. Usually those breakdowns only happen at 3 AM in the campus library while FaceTiming with my mom, so today was a mild catastrophe. But things are good! …as long as we keep winning.”
“I really felt some sort of harmony with my teammates today,” says Graham. “But there’s just one thing. This is going to sound so stupid, but I need to get it out. When I was talking to Rachel about Miles earlier, or what I said to Kelsey just now, I was always thinking in the back of my mind, ‘what if Whitney was there to watch?’. Like seeing me supporting my friends like that would instantly make her realize how great and caring of a guy I truly am…” He slaps his face. “This is pathetic. I need to write some poetry.”
In the Artisanal Cheeses’ cabin, some are attempting to discuss strategy before their first elimination ceremony while some are doing the complete opposite.
“Okay, b-b-buddies, who’s ready to gym it up tonight?” asks Roald. “I know I am!”
“Aw man, I am too!” says Rhett. “Perfect way t’ unwind after all that stress!”
“You simpletons, we must focus on the impending elimination!” whines Boris. “We cannot let our guards down like that, otherwise the women will descend upon us like a pack of hungry Stacies and devour us!”
“Hmmmmm,” says Roald. “Boris may be right.” He whistles loudly. “HEY! Anyone wanna strategize?!” Nobody says anything. “Mkay, maybe in like 20 minutes? Cool!”
Kaitlin is on her bunk bed, having gone back to peeling her toenails but now with the baby bird crawling all over her. “Like I said, I’m voting Suvir tonight,” she says to nobody in particular. “End of discussion.”
“Fair enough,” says Whitney, reading a fashion magazine. “I’m probably voting for you.”
“Okay, I don’t care, so—” says Kaitlin, then she pauses. “What? ME?!”
“What? Meeeeeee?” says Whitney in a fluttery, mocking tone.
Kaitlin looks at Whitney, gets up, storms out of the room, and slams the door.
“We’re voting for her, right?” announces Artemis to everyone, getting many nods in response.
Over on the other corner of the room, Suvir and Frances are having a pow-wow. “Man,” says Suvir. “I know they say they’re all voting Kaitlin, but I’m freaked out! They’ve gotta have a secret plot to blindside me!”
“I cannot believe my notes are gone,” says Frances in a hushed tone. “All the way in the bottom of the lake. I’ve spent this whole competition writing in that notepad.”
“Yeah, I get it, but I’m about to go home, I just know it! This is serious too!” says Suvir.
“What if I told you…” says Frances. “That there’s a way for us to both get what we desire tonight?”
“Huh? Tell me more!” says Suvir, perking up.
“Well, this hinges on whether or not we have a computer lab in the vicinity,” says Frances. “There’s going to be some heavy printing tonight.”
“Yeah, there is!” says Suvir. “I was hiding out in there last night at 3 am because I thought I saw Mothman outside the dorm window. Ready to roll?”
“Yes,” says Frances, smiling. “More ready than I’ll ever be.” The two walk out the door.
“Hmm, Franny an’ Suvir goin’ on one of their weird li’l walks again?” observes Rhett from the other corner of the room. “Seems suspicious this time!”
“Yeah, could be,” says Roald. “But hey, if they’re leaving, we should too! Gym?”
“‘Course!” cheers Rhett, and the two walk out as well with Boris in tow.
“There’s going to be some hard-hitting journalism hitting the Total Drama Lakeside public tonight,” says Frances. “The whole game so far has been leading up to this. I’m ready.”
“It’s truly sad that being in a canoe with Roald for two hours made me want to gouge my eyes out, yet he’d only be my fifth or sixth choice to vote out,” says Whitney. “This team has really been testing my patience lately.”
“That was th’ best gym trip yet!” says a very sweaty Rhett. “Maybe it’s th’ pressure of eliminanation gettin’ to me? And I still feel pretty bad about ruinin’ Franny’s notes, but if she said she’s fine, I’m sure she’s fine! Just helped me lift even more!”
“Ooooh, I’m all pumped up!” says Roald. “Man, this is some exciting stuff! I didn’t think I’d be so—” He is interrupted by a knock on the door, and then the sound of something sliding underneath through the crack. He bends down and picks it up. “Huh? The Lakeside News? What’s thi—” He shrieks. “OH MY WHAAAAAAAAAA?!”
Chris meets the eight Artisanal Cheeses at the bandshell for the elimination ceremony, where the sun is setting as usual. Seven of the eight contestants have a copy of the Lakeside News and are wearing a variety of very diverse facial expressions.
“Nice to finally see you here, Cheeses,” he says. “I’ll keep things simple and cut down on the usual routine. If you don’t get a marshmallow, you’re out, and that’s about all there is to it. And you can’t come back EVER, of course. The first marshmallow goes to Artemis.”
“Delightful,” says Artemis, catching her marshmallow.
“This may come as a shock to some, but Boris, Frances, Suvir, and Whitney are all safe as well,” says Chris, tossing marshmallows to the three. “I guess being a social pariah has its perks?”
“Didn’t go home!” cheers Suvir under his breath, and Frances eyes him.
“Rhett, Roald, Kaitlin. Three strong presences,” says Chris. “Two will make it out alive. Roald… you’re one of them.”
He throws a marshmallow to a distraught-looking Roald, who sniffles and then blows his nose loudly in a tissue after eating the marshmallow. Rhett stares at him in confusion.
“And here we are,” says Chris. “Rhett, I’m not sure what happened. Kaitlin, I feel like this one’s pretty self-explanatory. The final marshmallow goes to…”
“A-huh?!” says Rhett, shooting up. “Ah’m confused! What gives, y’all? What’s on all those papers?”
Roald walks up to him and shows him the headline of the Lakeside News: BACKSTABBING BUMPKIN? - RHETT’S SECRET PLANS TO BLINDSIDE #1 ALLY ROALD REVEALED.
“How could you DO that, duder?!” he sobs. “We were GYM BROS! Gym bros until the… end!” He starts crying even louder, and Whitney emotionlessly pats him on the back.
“Blindside ya?! What the crap? I’d never do that, buddy! Yer my number-one!” Rhett says. “Ain’t this fake news?”
Frances steps up. “Maybe,” she says. “But a good headline requires exaggeration. If you look closer, you’ll notice that the article itself is actually about why Kaitlin should go home, but I knew none of you would read anything but the title. Losing my notes was the breaking point here, but it turns out I could still write a hard-hitting piece without them.” She shrugs. “Who knew?”
“Wow,” says Kaitlin. “That’s dark. Like… real dark.” The baby bird nods in agreement.
“Good golly,” says Rhett. “Yer real smart! Ain’t happy about it at all, so screw you, but well played!”
“So that was all a lie?!” says Roald. He turns back to Rhett and his distraught expression immediately turns into a smile. “Aw, why did I ever distrust you?! You’re the man! Let’s hang out when the game’s done, mkay?”
“Yes, I second that,” says Artemis. “Rhett? Now YOU’RE a beefcake.”
“‘Course,” says Rhett. “I had a great tahm, y’all. Canoein’ was a boatload o’ fun! Even if I spent th’ whole time yappin’ away to some rattlesnake!”
Frances looks to the side as Rhett hugs Roald, then heads to the Yacht of Losers as it chugs into the night.
“Well, it was another drama-filled evening and I can’t wait to see what happens next!” says Chris, closing out the chapter. “Will the Cheeses recover from their first loss? Will the Killer Wildcats turn into a full-on soap opera? Seriously, that angst on the canoes was insane! Find out the answers to all these questions and more next time on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
Chapter 5 - Volley of the Balls
“Last time on Total Drama Lakeside!” announces Chris. “After a disappointing first couple of challenges, I made the 14 remaining contestants go out on the water and partake in an extreme canoe showdown! It turned out pretty well, at least for the ratings, and that’s all I care about at this point. The Wildcats may have won their first challenge but they were still a trainwreck through and through, between Kelsey freaking out about losing, Christian freaking out about his hair, and Miles freaking out about classic Miles stuff. And then there’s Graham, who I don’t think realizes he’s on Total Drama and not a rom-com. His struggles might be the weirdest of all, and they came to light when he gave Roald a double-balloon smackdown! In the end, the Artisanal Cheeses finally lost, and it seemed like half the team had a chance of being voted off. Kaitlin was in danger due to her crankiness, but in the end we had to say goodbye to Rhett, thanks to a very unlucky accident that set off the wrath of Frances. How will the Cheeses deal with the fallout of their first elimination? Will the Wildcats continue to self-destruct even when they’re winning challenges? Will I get more than 30 seconds of screen time today? Find out right here, right now, on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
The next morning, the sun rises over the lake as birds begin to chirp. This pleasant scene is interrupted by loud, phlegmy sobs coming from the Artisanal Cheeses’ dorm.
“I just…” sputters Roald in between tears. “Can’t believe… my best b-b-buddy… is g-g-GONE!”
Over in the girls’ room, Frances wakes up. “That really hit him hard, huh?”
“What did you expect?” asks Whitney, who has a face mask on and is covered in blankets. “I’m more surprised that his tear ducts still work. This has gone on for the past six hours.”
“I feel… kind of bad,” says Frances quietly. She then adjusts herself. “I shouldn’t, though. No need to let my personal emotions into it. Rhett deserved that.”
“Yeah, now Roald will spend all his time with me instead,” says Whitney. “Thanks for that.”
“So my top priority for the first couple of days was to have the most fun I could,” sniffles Roald. “Hang out with my gym buds, say funny stuff to Whitney, all the works! But now, I have to avenge my best buddy Rhett. So you know what that means? Franny’s going DOWN!”
“Roald’s sobs kind of got to me, but they shouldn’t have,” says Frances. “I was justified in my actions. It’s incredibly frustrating to have all your hard work just sink to the bottom of a lake in seconds. I had to do that… but now I realize that the whole team likely thinks I’m a snake, so that’s not great. At least I still have Suvir... I think?”
“Okay, Boris, it’s just you and me now,” says Roald, dabbing his eyes with a tissue. “You ready for the chillest workout yet?”
“Hmph, I suppose,” says Boris, attempting to get out of bed. He stands up but his back makes a loud, painful-sounding crack. “ARRRRGH! My physical state is deteriorating once more!”
“Nah, man! It’s just your sore muscles! That means it’s time to stretchy-stretch!” says Roald.
“I knew this was a scam!” yells Boris. “I will now spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, I just know it! That will surely make me even less appealing to women!”
“Aw, buddy!” Roald says. “Don’t be sad and stuff! Listen, you’re my #1 now that Rhett’s gone, so we’re in this together, k?”
“Thank you for letting me know I am only your second priority,” grumbles Boris. “But after Rhett’s untimely demise, I too have become distrustful of our teammates. Very well!”
While this loud conversation is going on, Suvir quietly gets out of bed, puts on his sweater, and shuffles over to the girls’ room.
“Hey,” he says to Frances. “Thanks for saving my butt last night.”
“Of course,” she replies. “Now, it was unlikely there was any chance of you going home at all, since Kaitlin was the only one targeting you.” She glances at a snoring Kaitlin. “But I’m glad I could help.”
“Normally I’d be kinda scared of that power move Frances pulled, since I didn’t know she was capable of all that,” says Suvir. “But that’s someone I TOTALLY want on my side! If she can destroy someone as chill and friendly as Rhett, I can’t imagine what she’d do to the lizard people!”
Kaitlin and Artemis both wake up, seemingly on cue. “Aw, goddamnit, he’s in here again?!” shouts Kaitlin.
“Yeah, I am,” says Suvir. “Try and get me out of here, bird-lady!”
“Bird-lady?!” yells Kaitlin. “Ugh! Were you the one tapping my forehead all night? I tried to sleep through that shit, but it was impossible. I—” She looks up at her forehead to see the baby bird perched on her and pecking her.
“Like mother, like daughter,” drawls Artemis.
“Artemis, I will gouge your eyes out in your sleep,” snaps Kaitlin. “Can someone get this thing out of here?”
“Hmm, well, I kind of like it,” says Artemis. “It brings the cuteness factor that you sorely lack.”
“Ain’t that the truth!” says Suvir.
“We should give it a name then, no?” asks Frances. “You know, if it’s here to stay?”
“Ahem,” says Artemis. “How about ‘Artemis Jr.’? An alluring and zaftig woman such as myself deserves to be recognized in multiple mediums.”
“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” says Kaitlin. “Artemis Jr.?! I mean, come on. I’d rather name it after Suvir, and I hate him.”
“Well, I’m calling her Artemis Jr.,” says Artemis. “It seems you’ve been outvoted, Kaity.”
“I like that bird,” says Artemis. “And no, I’m not referring to Kaitlin. Maybe the two of us can debut this new, fascinating dumpster performance that I’ve been writing as of late. I could name it ‘The Bird and the Belle’...” She moans in satisfaction. “Purrrrrfect.”
Whitney heads over to Roald, now alone in the boys’ room with Boris, who has tuned out of the conversation and is watching anime on his laptop.
“Whitto!” he says happily. “What’re you doing in here?!”
“I’m… sorry about Rhett,” she says flatly. “I’m a little confused because you only knew him for five days, but I hope you’re okay.”
“D'awwwwww!” gushes Roald. “I KNEW you cared!” He walks in and prepares to give her a bear-hug.
Whitney steps back. “Look, I just wanted to make sure you’d stop crying all night,” she says. “It disrupted my circadian rhythms.”
“Yeah, suuuure!” says Roald. “Thanks for checkin’ in, I think I’ll be fine! Actually, now I KNOW I’ll be fine! You’re a cool cube, Whits.”
“I don’t know what I’ve gotten myself into,” says Whitney. “But I just thought that if he stopped the sobbing, there’d be more team unity… or something. That’s all I have to say.”
A few hours later, the majority of the Killer Wildcats are hanging out outside, with one notable exception. Rachel is lying down in the grass, while Graham, Kelsey, Erica, and a snoozing Miles are sitting at a picnic table by her side.
“Oh, it’s no surprise that you’re an Aries,” says Rachel. “Your drive, your enthusiasm, your passion, your independence… it’s all so wonderfully fitting.”
“Really? Huh,” says Kelsey. “I’ll take your word for it.”
“Graham, you’re a Libra,” says Rachel. “That also fits you soooo well. I can tell how much you dislike conflict.”
Graham blushes. “Y-yes, that’s accurate.”
“Hey, wait,” says Kelsey. “I could’ve sworn there was a sleeping Miles next to me a few seconds ago.”
“Well…” says Graham. “While we were learning about our signs just now, he muttered something then fled. All I heard was ‘Jackie’ and ‘astrology hoe.’”
“Okay, whatever, tell me about my sign!” smiles Erica. “June 18th is my birthday!”
Rachel gulps. “You’re… a Gemini.”
“Well, what does that mean?” asks Erica. “I love hearing about all this chart stuff. Tell me!”
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that,” says Rachel. “Gemini can be just as lovable as any other sign! They just have… a certain reputation, that’s all.”
“A certain reputation, huh?” says Erica through a gritted smile. “Well… I hope it’s a good one!” She stands up. “I’m going inside.”
Erica walks into the dorm and sees Christian sitting on his bunk bed with a portable mirror, meticulously combing his hair. Christian looks up at her and smirks.
“Okay, listen up,” he says. “Yesterday was straight-up wack. I dunno what came over me on that canoe ride, but falling in the water and messing up my look and whining about Isabella on live TV didn’t do me any favors. It’s time to start hittin’ it hard, and I know just the way to maximize my appeal from here on out. Christian 2.0 starts now.”
“Ayo,” he says, getting up and walking over to Erica. “Wanna, like, make out?”
“Ugh, I can’t believe she threw shade at me in front of all her brainless sheep,” grumbles Erica to herself. “What a classic mean girl.” She looks up. “Sorry, repeat that?”
“Oh sorry, uhhhhh…” says Christian. “Do you wanna make out?”
Erica gasps. “You know I have a boyfriend, right?!” she shouts. “Sure, you’re my little crush and all, but I have some dignity!”
She turns around and storms out of the dorm, but not before looking back at him and mouthing “Later tonight?” unsubtly.
“Little crush, hmm?” Christian says to himself. “I like that. Issa vibe. But that ain’t enough. Time to work on Prospect #2.”
“Especially since my other team members are so rude, I’d LOVE to go to the end with Christian,” says Erica. “In a completely platonic way, of course. Love you, Jake! But I need one more ally. Hmmm, let’s see. I do have a couple weird guy friends at college…”
“There’s something magical about today, no?” asks Graham, still sitting at the picnic bench with Kelsey. “It feels like the perfect time for—” he yawns loudly, “a midday walk.”
“Graham, everything good? You seem tired,” says Kelsey. “Maybe not at the level of me yesterday, but still.” She laughs.
“Well, I spent most of the night writing poetry,” sighs Graham. “My mind was ablaze!”
“Poetry?” asks Kelsey. “Nice. It kind of intimidates me personally, but I do love engaging with others’ works. Maybe you can show me some of yours and I’ll peer review it?”
“Hmm, it’s still a rough draft,” says Graham, now sweating. “It’s about Whitney, of course. I can’t get her off my mind!”
“Oh, that’s right!” says Kelsey. “You told me all about that. Hey, you two would be cute.”
“You think? But you called her off-putting the other day,” says Graham.
Kelsey laughs. “Yikes, I guess I did. I mean, I don’t know her at all, I’m sure she’s great. If anything, you two would be the best-dressed couple here.”
“Really?!” bursts Graham, standing up and starting to get teary. “Oh man, I will cherish that compliment! Thank you, Kelsey, for giving me hope!”
He walks inside, leaving Kelsey with a bemused expression.
“Well, here’s the poem,” says Graham. He clears his throat. “‘I watch you walk by, your gray locks shimmering in the breeze. While you may look aloof, closed off to the outside world, I just know your smile could light up inky-black trenches. The truest joy on this earth would be to watch your barriers peel away to reveal the blossom that is your personality.’” He pauses, looking bewildered. “Ugh, that was horrible, wasn’t it? Am I turning into Miles?”
While Kelsey is alone at the picnic table, she turns to see the door swing open and Christian, clad in nothing but an extremely tight-fitting pair of boxer briefs, walk over to join her.
“Hey, mama,” he says, flexing his arm muscles behind his neck. “Enjoying the view?”
“I’m extremely confused,” she responds.
“Look, I feel bad ‘bout yesterday,” says Christian. “I was being a dick and ignoring you and stuff. I mean, we actually won so that’s cool, but I figured I could…” He flexes again, then leans in towards her face. “Make it up to you?”
“Are you asking me if I want to have sex with you, Christian?” asks Kelsey.
“Huh?!” exclaims Christian. “I mean… I wasn’t not, but c’mon, you just ruined the buildup!”
“Ooookay, I’m going to go inside and work on my thesis,” says Kelsey hurriedly, and she leaves.
“Man, that didn’t work either!” huffs Christian once she’s gone. He looks down at his boxer briefs. “Whatever, I’m wearing these for the challenge. Chris can’t stop me.”
“Maybe us finally winning came at a price,” says Kelsey. “Every Wildcat has been acting extremely weird today, and I’m not here for it. But I can’t control them, so I just have to focus on my own success… and right now, that does not involve hooking up with Christian.”
Rachel is sitting under a tree and meditating. Miles approaches her, looking rather gloomy about something as usual.
“Hey, Rach…” he says softly. “Want to go for a walk on the beach or something? It’s nice out…”
Rachel looks up and smiles invitingly at him. “Yes, definitely!” She gets up and the two begin walking. “Oh, by the way, can I talk to you about something?”
“Uhhh, sure...” says Miles, starting to look nervous. “Hit me.”
“Wonderful,” says Rachel. “So yesterday, when I was with Graham in the canoe—”
The conversation is interrupted by Chris’s voice booming on the loudspeaker. “CONTESTANTS! Report to the beach immediately for today’s challenge! Bring your best sportswear, it’s time for a volleybrawl!” He laughs at his own pun.
“Oh, I’m excited for this one,” says Rachel. “I could use some more physical exercise.”
“Wait, what happened in the…” demands Miles, but Rachel has already walked off.
“That was definitely not on purpose!” says Rachel, who looks a little more nervous than usual. “I just don’t want to be late for the challenge. It’s nothing to do with avoiding a potentially awkward conversation… I’ve had plenty of those before. I swear.”
Elsewhere, right by the water, Roald and Boris are already playing a game of beach volleyball after Chris has made his loudspeaker announcement.
Roald hits the ball back to the other side, and Boris jumps up and juts out his stomach as the ball flies towards it, knocking it back. “BELLY BALL BASH!” he proclaims.
“Whoa! Your skills are just getting madder, man!” says an impressed Roald.
“Mm, yes,” says Boris. “Do you think I should continue announcing my moves prior to performing them? I feel as if it draws more attention to my awe-inspiring physical prowess, in the vein of a Pocket Monster.”
“Uhhhh…” says Roald. “Do what you gotta do, man. I’m super nervous for the chall, so maybe it’ll send out good vibrations!”
“Nervous? You? With all your so-called muscles and stamina?” taunts Boris.
“Yeah, man,” says Roald quietly. “Rhett being gone has got me all paranoid that I’m next. When I get stressed I clench my anus, and that’s happenin’ right now!”
“Ah, that is never a pleasant ailment to have,” says Boris. “But fret not. We will win - I have spoken it into existence!”
The camera pans around two feet to the right to reveal Chris, Chef, and all eleven other contestants standing there and looking rather impatient, with over half of them completely tuned out, listening to music, or scrolling through their phones.
“You guys gonna be done anytime soon, or…” asks Chris.
“Haha, whoops! Yeah, man! You go on ahead!” cheers Roald.
“That’s more like it,” says Chris, walking up in front of everyone as the two rejoin the crowd. “Anyway, today’s challenge is a classic beach volleyball tournament, and I’m wondering how many of you actually heard my loudspeaker message since only one of you dressed properly for the occasion.” He glances at Christian, still in his boxer briefs, who smirks. “I’m sure you all know how to play, so I’ll spare you the details. Two v. two, I’ll be choosing the matchups. When you’re not playing, you can spectate in those nice bleachers over there. Each match will be best two out of three, we’ll do five matches total, sound good? I thought so.” The contestants pile onto the bleachers. “The first matchup is, uh…” He pauses for an uncomfortably long time.
During the pause, Graham walks up to the top row and prepares to sit down next to Kelsey and Miles.
“Hey, Graham!” says Erica. “Wanna sit next to me?” Confused, he hesitantly leaves his friends and sits down right next to her. “Awesome,” she continues. “We can watch the game together! Are you excited to play?”
“Kind of,” says Graham. “It’s been a long time since I partook in a sport.”
Erica grins wide. “Don’t worry, you’ve totally got this!”
“Okay, fine, here goes,” resumes Chris. “Our first matchup is Rachel and Miles versus Suvir and Kaitlin.”
“Aw, come on, why you gotta pair me up with Kongamato?!” complains Suvir.
“Relax, butt-brain,” says Kaitlin. “We got this in the bag. I played on my high school volleyball team for twenty minutes.”
“And I would’ve played a lot longer than that if it weren’t for that stupid back brace I had to wear,” whines Kaitlin. “The coach said I was ‘unfit to be on the team’ and kicked me off immediately. But ohhhh, I’ll show him. I’ll show them ALL.”
Chris blows the whistle and the match starts. Kaitlin serves the ball rather forcefully and it hits Miles in the groin, sending him keeling over, which she cackles at.
“Oh no! Miles, are you okay?!” shrieks Rachel.
“Yeah…” says Miles, getting up. “When Jackie did that to me metaphorically, it was far worse…”
The second rally starts and Kaitlin serves the ball once again. This time, Rachel manages to hit it back and it comes flying towards Suvir, who shrieks loudly and swats the ball towards Kaitlin, who then hits it again and it lands out of either Wildcat’s reach.
“HA! Eat that, kitties!” taunts Kaitlin.
“Wow, who knew those inflatable tube man limbs were worth something,” says Whitney from the sidelines.
“The Cheeses score again and win the first match!” announces Chris. “Next up is, uh… Frances and Whitney versus Christian and Kelsey.”
“Ayyyy,” says Christian. “Putting me with three chicks? I see you, McLean.” He turns to Kelsey. “Dream team back in action. You ready?”
“As long as we pretend that conversation from earlier didn’t happen,” says Kelsey.
Christian scratches his forehead. “What conv—” he asks. “Ohhhhh. Yeah, uh, sorry ‘bout that. At least you can still admire the scenery?” He does ‘the wave’ with his pecs.
“I’m… going to focus on the challenge,” says Kelsey, laughing hesitantly. The two head onto the court.
“Anyone want to take my spot?” offers Whitney to her teammates. “Not feeling it today.” She pulls out a fashion magazine.
“I’ll do it,” says Artemis, who has Artemis Jr. perched on her shoulder.
“Thanks, you’re a doll,” says Whitney emotionlessly as she sits back down.
“Don’t be fooled,” clarifies Artemis. “This is only because I want to one-up Kaitlin. She put on quite the showing, but I know I can do better.”
“Are you kidding me?!” interjects Kaitlin. “Artemis, you’re like three feet tall. You come up to like my titties. No way are you gonna hit that ball.”
“Now we’ll see about that, won’t we?” asks Artemis, waggling a finger in front of Kaitlin’s nose. The bird flies back onto Kaitlin as Artemis heads towards the court, and Kaitlin groans loudly.
“Great showing,” says Frances to Suvir. “Hopefully I’ll be able to match it.”
“Of course, you got this! You’re all skinny and agile and stuff, at least I think,” says Suvir. “You ever do anything besides reporting?”
“Not really,” shrugs Frances. “I prefer to observe from the sidelines, but this seems manageable.”
Suvir fist-bumps her as she heads down. “You got this!”
As the four contestants prepare to start the second match, Rachel and Miles head back to the bleachers. “Uhhh, Rach…” he says. “Can we finish that conversation from earlier? Y’know, about the canoes or whatever?”
“Oh, of course!” says Rachel. “I felt horrible that we were interrupted like that. Let’s go for a walk.” Miles nods.
Erica watches the duo walk away. “Oooh, what do you think is going on there, Graham?” she asks. “Could be some drama.”
Graham starts to turn pink and looks to the side. “I think they’re j-j-just going to take a walk in the woods or something. You know how much Rachel loves nature…”
“Hmm,” says Erica. “So you’re getting pretty close to her then, huh?”
“Yes, she’s amazing,” says Graham. “Of course, I mean that in a platonic sense. I couldn’t do that to Whi—I mean, Miles.”
“Well, there’s sooo much I’m in the dark on right now,” says Erica. “I’m all ears. Spill!”
She rests her hands on her chin and leans in toward him. Graham gulps.
Back on the court, Chris blows his whistle. “Kelsey and Christian score the first point, somehow!”
“Somehow? Y’all know how,” boasts Christian. “Pure talent.”
“Okay, let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” says Kelsey.
While the four prepare for the second round, Graham has fully begun word-vomiting to Erica on the bleachers. “So Miles has been going on about his lost love Jackie every day now, but then he fell in love with Rachel… or at least the idea of Rachel, and so he asked me to set him up with her and I said yes even though I knew she wasn’t interested in any way other than platonically, so that was intensely awkward and I told her all about that and it freaked her out and then I told her that I was in love with Whitney.” He blinks. “And I suppose I just told YOU that, too.”
Erica says nothing for a few seconds. “Wow, that’s… a lot of gossip,” she finally says. “But thanks for telling me all that! I feel like I know you so much better now!”
“Any time,” says Graham. “I hope you’ll be wise with who you share all that info with... “
“Oh, of course,” says Erica. “Friends don’t just spill their friends’ secrets like that!”
“I really wasn’t expecting to get that out of him,” says a floored Erica. “Wow. I wonder if he actually likes me as a person, or if he’s just like that with everyone? Even if I kinda want to manipulate him now, just having someone trust you enough to tell you deep things like that feels… nice?”
“Well, my loose lips strike again,” laments Graham. “I’m sure the whole cast will know my entire life story by tomorrow. I know I should not have told her all that, but it always feels so comforting when others listen to you profess your deepest inner monologues… Making friends is such a glorious thing!” He swoons. “But is she really my friend?”
Frances hits a high ball that Artemis isn’t able to reach, sending it hurtling right in between the two Wildcats and hitting the ground.
“Mm, thank you for covering me while I conserve my energy,” says Artemis.
“The Cheeses score! This match is tied 1-1, who’s gonna take it? It’s anyone’s game,” says Chris. “Okay, is that enough sports commentary?” He blows his whistle. “Go.”
Frances serves the ball. Kelsey hits it to Christian, who seems like he’ll miss until he sticks out his head and the ball bounces powerfully off of it. It lands in the sand on the Cheeses’ side, about half an inch from the boundaries.
“Esketit!” says Christian.
“The Wildcats win the round! Whoa, crazy!” says Chris lifelessly. “It’s 1-1. The next match will be Roald and Whitney versus Graham and Erica.” In the audience, Graham’s face turns completely white. “I have to go refill my coffee mug, so take five.” Chris walks away, and everyone starts to grumble.
“You provided some solid competition,” says Frances, approaching the Wildcats. “Good game.” She sticks out her hand for Kelsey to shake.
“Likewise,” says Kelsey. “Maybe my 4th grade volleyball league did teach me something.”
From the audience, Suvir stares down in fear at the two girls as they shake hands. “Yo, uh,” he whispers to Boris. “Notice anything similar about those two?”
“Hm? Not particularly,” says Boris. “Besides, all females look the same to me!”
“Ohohoho, this is bad! REAL bad!” shouts Suvir. “When I saw Frances and that chick from the other team next to each other, all smiley and crap, I noticed how they have the same jacket, and the same body frame, and hairstyle, and EVERYTHING! Yo, they’re totally evil clones of one another designed by Chris to wreak havoc on the rest of us, and they look just different enough where nobody would be suspicious… except for me. Man, that explains why Franny has been all buddy-buddy with me, but I take back what I said earlier, I ain’t trusting her any longer! This alliance ends now, before I get my brains sucked out with a straw while I’m sleeping!”
Frances sits back on the bench with Artemis and the rest of her teammates, and upon seeing her Suvir squeals and hides behind Boris.
“So I botched that one, but it’s fine,” she says, approaching Suvir. “Now I can start writing stories again. Did you see I have a backup notepad?” She holds up a slightly smaller notepad.
“Back off!” quavers Suvir.
“Hm,” says Frances. “Okay?” She scoots away, then starts writing furiously.
“Oh no, he’s not mad at me about the whole Rhett thing too, is he?” says Frances worriedly. “I can’t believe it. My closest—or I guess my only—ally, and now he’s acting all weird. I might’ve screwed things up, which is problematic since it’s so early in the game. This may not end well.”
“Hey,” she says, awkwardly moving in between Kaitlin, Artemis Jr., and Artemis and sitting down. “Who’s, um, excited to watch the next round?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” asks Kaitlin.
“Yes, we’re in the middle of a very important conversation,” says Artemis. “It’s about hallucinogens. Kaitlin hasn’t experienced them, I say it’s her loss.” The bird squawks in agreement.
“For the record, this might be the worst conversation I’ve ever had,” says Kaitlin. “And now reporter girl just HAD to join to make things even more fun! Awesome.”
“I’ll be quiet now,” says Frances.
Meanwhile, many blocks away, Miles and Rachel are roaming around what looks like a remote part of the beach. Rachel dives into some sand, picks up a small piece of sea glass, and sniffs it.
“Don’t you think these are so pretty?” she asks. “Just look at that translucent green color.”
“Uh, yeah, they’re fine…” says Miles. “Can I just ask what’s going on? You started, then you got sidetracked by sea glass…”
“Oh, yes,” says Rachel, her face dropping. “Okay. Can we sit down?” Miles nods, and they both sit on a nearby log. “So Miles, I think you’re a truly amazing human. We’ve clicked quicker than I have with almost anyone else, and that’s such a rare occasion for me. I knew instantly that you were someone I could fully be myself around. But…” She gulps. “Graham told me in the canoe yesterday that you were, and I quote, ‘essentially in love’ with me. I’m so sorry, Miles, but I don’t think of you in that way.”
Miles opens up his mouth to speak, but all he can say is, “B-b-b-bubba-bobba-hob-hobba-hobba-wah-wah.”
“Oh, I really hope it’s okay,” says Rachel, genuinely upset. “I still want to spend time with you! You’re one of the closest friends I’ve made here. I just…”
“Whatever,” sniffles Miles. “I… I need to go. I can’t believe it h-h-happened again…” He sprints towards the dorms, sobbing loudly.
“Well, that’s the fastest I’ve ever seen him move,” Rachel says to herself.
“I can’t believe it…” moans Miles. “All I want to do is lock myself in this bathroom and listen to Truck Seat Backrest for 36 hours straight… Will Cincinnati is the only one who understands me…”
Rachel joins the rest of her team back on the bleachers. “Hi, everyone,” she says shakily.
“Everything cool? You look paler and less peppy than usual,” says Kelsey. “A lot less peppy.”
“Well, Miles fled the premises and I believe he’s in the dorm sobbing to himself, so…” says Rachel.
“Man, what a puss,” says Christian, which Erica giggles at.
Just then, Chris returns with a large cup of coffee. “Break time’s over!” he announces. “The four unlucky schmucks competing in this match, get on down to the court.”
“All right!” says Roald. “Hey Whitney, the fact I’m competing with you has unclenched my anus all the way!”
“Please never say that combination of words again,” says Whitney.
Erica smiles at Graham as they make their way down to the court. “Your crush!” she whispers.
“Oh, I’m not ready,” he responds. “Her and Roald? This’ll destroy me.”
The four arrive onto the court and Chris gets ready to start the round. “Wildcats will serve first for winning the last round,” he says, giving Erica the ball. “Ready? Start!”
Erica serves the ball and it bounces over the net. Roald jumps up, grunts loudly, then hits it back, and it’s deflected by Graham—who accidentally spikes it right into Whitney’s face.
“...ouch,” says Whitney.
“Oh my goodness!” panics Graham. “Is your face all right?! I’m s-s-so sorry!”
“It’s fine. Nothing a few thousand dollars of plastic surgery won’t fix,” says Whitney bitterly.
“The Wildcats score! HA, that was classic!” says Chris. “Time for the next round.”
Right as Erica is about to serve again, Graham slides over to Whitney. “I truly didn’t mean to do that, I’m just so uncoordinated! Seriously, I—”
“Look, I don’t want to hear it,” says Whitney.
“Haha, don’t worry, man! She’s just grouchy like that, trust!” says Roald. “Ain’t that right, Whitford? You don’t mean any harm!”
“Yikes,” says Erica. She serves the ball and Roald hits it back again, but this time it lands on her side right onto the ground.
“Yikes,” repeats Whitney mockingly.
“Now this is juicy!” says Chris. “Physical comedy AND a suspenseful challenge? Why’d it take five episodes for this?! Final round of the match starts now.”
“Ohhh, that wasn’t good, I’m off my game!” says Erica. “Graham, cover for me.”
Before either of them can move, however, Roald serves the ball and it lands right on the edge of the boundaries, scoring the Cheeses one more point.
“Boo-yah!” says Roald. “Eat that cheese!”
“You really need to work on your comeback skills,” says Whitney.
Chris blows his whistle. “Well, the Cheeses pull off another victory!” he announces. “Now they’re up 2-1, so if they win this next round, they win it all! Teams, you can pick your players this time. I’ll give you a minute to figure all that out.”
“I… cannot believe that happened,” says Graham, sulking back to the bleachers. “I’ve ruined it all, haven’t I?” He sits down and sighs.
“Hey, no time for that just yet,” says Kelsey. “We haven’t ruined anything. So I’m thinking me and Christian for this round? Get us back in the lead?”
“Yuuuuh, now we’re talkin’,” says Christian. “I knew you couldn’t resist.”
“Friends, I think I have to sit this one out,” says Rachel. “I still don’t feel completely normal. I’m sorry.”
“Okay, then I want to go again!” says Erica. “We might’ve screwed that last one up, but that wasn’t all my fault, you know? My head’s in the game now.”
“Yo, that’s gucci too,” agrees Christian. “As long as I get to play.”
“Hmm,” says Kelsey. “Okay. I’m starting to feel… tense,” she chuckles nervously, “so maybe that’s the best call?”
“That IS the best call. Plus, once we win, you two can join me in the dorm for a celebratory surprise,” says Christian, winking.
Meanwhile, the Cheeses are discussing their own strategy. “Well, Roald certainly came through this last round,” says Frances. “Him again?”
“Whatever, just put me in too!” says Kaitlin. “I destroyed the first round, and you all know it.”
“Pssh, that was a fluke,” says Artemis. “I think it should be myself and Boris.”
“YES!” bursts out Boris. “I have not played a single round yet, and I will be apoplectic if my glorious skills are put to waste! You shall put me in or die… from adorableness!”
“Me and Boris?” suggests Roald. “Good compromise, huh? Whatcha say?”
“Excuse me? I don’t know where you got that, but—” says Artemis.
“Mmm, yes,” says Boris. “My athleticism has undergone a full metamorphosis! You will all gasp in awe of my newfound moveset!”
“I dunno what he’s talkin’ about, but it sounds freaky!” says Suvir. “So I say yes too!”
Whitney nods as she rubs an ice pack around her nose. “As long as I get to sit out.”
“Oooh, that ice pack’s quite the ‘cool’ look!” swoons Roald. “Aight, I’m ready!”
“I gotta make sure I don’t flub this round!” says Roald. “I totally noticed Frances volunteering me to play, and I know she’s hoping I’ll screw it up so she can vote me out. But that’s not happening, nopity-nope! I’m going all out, not just for me, but for Whitney, for Boris, for my mom, my cousin Puck, my 3rd grade teacher, my orthodontist—” The tape turns to static.
Roald and Boris stand on one side of the court with the ball, with Christian and Erica lined up on the other side.
“Ready?” asks Chris, as they prepare to serve. “First round of match four starts NOW!”
Roald spikes the ball and it shoots towards Erica, who panics and swats it towards Christian. He shrugs coolly and hits the ball back.
Boris notices the oncoming ball and quickly takes off his hat. “TRILBY TRAMPOLINE!” he announces, then sticks his hat out so the ball somehow bounces off of it and back onto the Cheeses’ side onto the ground.
“Boris scores one point!” says Chris. “Wildcats have to pick up the pace!”
“That was bad, wasn’t it?” asks Erica. “At least I hit it!”
“Nahhh, chillax,” says Christian. “Watch this.”
The second round starts and Roald spikes the ball once again. Christian jumps to hit it back, and while in the air he flips his hair. The bleach-blonde glow emanating from his hair creates a giant white sparkly cloud that blinds everyone in the premises, and the ball falls down right in between the Cheeses.
“What in the heavens was that?” asks Boris. “Two can play at this game, you vapid slime!” He angrily takes off his hat again and flips around his giant mane of red hair, sending dandruff flying everywhere.
“I’m not quite sure what that was either, but point is, Wildcats score!” says Chris. “It’s 1-1, and this could decide it all.”
Boris bends down to whisper to Roald. “My friend, it is time for our combined power move that we practiced earlier, yes?”
“Heck yes!” says Roald. “It’s def time! My glutes are as loose as they’re gonna get!”
“Let’s just do that routine again, mkay?” asks Christian to Erica. “Because look, I know you liked it. Everyone did.”
“I sure did!” coos Erica. “And I’ll do the best I can to help you out!”
“Everyone ready?” asks Chris. “Final round starts…” he blows his whistle again, “now!”
Christian serves the ball, and the two quickly look at each other. Roald jumps up and bops it back onto Erica’s end. She once again panics and swats it towards Christian, who makes a grunt and swats it back to her end, all the while Roald and Boris nod covertly to one another. The ball finally starts to swerve back to the Cheeses’ side.
“Ready to activate your full power, my bro?!” says Roald hurriedly.
“Why yes, am I ever!” responds Boris.
The two glance at the oncoming ball, stand with their legs far apart, and link arms. “CHEESES' CALAMITY!!!” they yell. Roald jumps on top of Boris and starts to spin his whole body rapidly, and the ball bounces off of the spinning blur that is Roald and launches back onto the Wildcats’ side and into the sand. Everyone is completely silent for at least 10 seconds.
“Well, uh, the Cheeses win the challenge…?” pipes up Chris. “Congrats, I guess.”
The Cheeses’ entire bleacher erupts into cheers as Roald and Boris head back to their teammates. Frances tries to give Suvir a high-five but he once again darts away.
“Wait! Don’t leave just yet, guys!” says Chris. “Cheeses, I need exactly two volunteers from your team to come sit in at the elimination ceremony tonight. Don’t say anything just yet! All will be revealed then. As for the Wildcats, good luck slaughtering another kitten of yours! Ha!”
“Ugh, I cannot believe you didn’t let me compete in that last round,” says Kaitlin as her team walks away.
“Silence! We won, and that is cause for celebration! I say everyone joins me in a Two Pieces marathon!” announces Boris, but nobody says anything.
“I cannot believe our secret technique actually worked!” says a flabbergasted Boris. “My sturdy, virile build was the perfect support for Roald’s small, bullet-esque frame! This win in particular feels special, for reasons I cannot quite comprehend. All I must say is… for once, I actually felt like I did something worthwhile.”
The Wildcats enter their dorm to find that the entire building smells strongly of vape juice.
“God!” coughs Kelsey. “What is—” She traces the smoke to Miles’s bed, where he is curled up in the fetal position. “Oh, it’s that.”
“D-d-did we win…” croaks Miles from the corner.
“No, unfortunately,” says Rachel. “I wish you had stayed for the rest of it! I’m sure you would’ve scored at least one point.”
“Begone, you demon woman, I won’t hear any more of your lies…” says Miles. He pulls his blanket over his entire body and resumes vaping.
“Ooookay, why don’t we get away from that negative energy,” says Kelsey, steering Rachel into the girls’ room. “Let’s strategize here?”
Rachel pouts. “I’m not sure if I can strategize right now,” she says. “My mind is a dark cloud.”
“Fair enough,” says Kelsey. “I feel that real hard, you know, after our third loss and all.”
“That was bad,” says Kelsey. “I can’t even pretend it wasn’t, but I CAN take comfort in the fact that I didn’t do anything wrong today. I won my only match! Everyone else was… slightly more dysfunctional, but hey, as long as I’m not breaking down and sobbing, we’re good. Now I just need to make sure the others don’t kill each other.”
Graham joins the two. “So, I should probably talk to Miles,” he says. “However, I just wanted to see where you two were at.”
“I’m thinking Erica by default?” says Kelsey. “No big issues with her, but… yeah.”
“Oh, I like Erica,” says Rachel. “But her sneaky Gemini nature does freak me out a little.”
“O-o-oh, okay,” stutters Graham. “Why don’t I go talk to Miles then, hm?” He flees the room, and the two girls shrug at each other.
Graham heads over to Miles and kneels down by his bed. “Dude, I don’t have the time right now…” rasps Miles.
“Listen, I truly think you should talk to Rachel,” says Graham. “Things went catastrophically today between me and Whitney, and I’d hate for both of us to be miserable tonight. Can you do it?”
“Ugh, man, I don’t know,” says Miles. “She didn’t have to do that to me…”
Seemingly out of nowhere, Erica appears. “Hey, guys! Whatcha talking about?” she greets.
Graham jumps. “Whoa! Erica! We’re talking about private matters!”
“They’re not thaaaat private, remember? You told me everything,” whispers Erica, and Graham turns beet-red. She then raises her voice. “Okay, boys, I’m voting Rachel if you want to join me!”
“Good, let me join in…” says Miles.
“What? Miles?!” shouts Graham. “That’s the worst possible way to solve this situation!”
“Screw it, man, I’m going to go vote right now…” he says, finally getting out of bed and weakly shuffling to the confessional.
“That didn’t go how I planned,” says Graham. “Erica, I don’t know if I can do this! Rachel is a dear friend and a great asset to this team. I don’t know who else to—”
There’s a knock, and Christian enters the room. “Yo, Erica, who should I vote for? Not really feeling strategy tonight.”
“Hey, bab—I mean, Christian!” says Erica. “Yeah, let me fill you in. Sit down.”
“Okay, I tuned out of legit everything she just said,” says Christian. “All that volleyballing really took a lot out of me. I’m telling you, it’s hard being hot and athletic. Just being one of those things is bad enough, but when you’re BOTH? Shit, man.”
“Erica, I may be weirded out by your usage of coconut oil, and the fact you are a Gemini makes me uncomfortable, but just know that I support you in every other way,” says Rachel happily. “I wish you the best of luck.”
“If Rachel doesn’t want to be my friend, then I might as well get rid of her,” says Erica. “It’s sad, but I have no time for women who don’t support other women.”
“On any other day I’d vote for Erica, who’s a total Jackie, but I can’t do that tonight…” says Miles. “It really hurts my heart to do this, but I just have to think of those lyrics Will Cincinnati wrote… ‘You build yourself up against others' feelings, and it left you feeling empty as a car coasting downhill…’ I’ve never related to anything more…” He takes a humongous drag from his vape.
While the sun begins to set and the other four Wildcats are packing up to get ready for elimination, Rachel approaches Miles, who’s back in bed.
“Hi,” says Rachel. “Can I speak to you for just a second before we leave?”
“Make it quick…” says Miles.
“Quick, got it,” says Rachel. “So as I was saying earlier before you… uh, ran away weeping, I really do think you’re wonderful, and you have no idea how much I’d hate to lose our friendship just because of this. From the second we first spoke, I knew you weren’t over your last love, and so I just didn’t think it would be fair for me to pursue you in that way. It hurts me so much to see you pine over Jackie! I want you to be happy, and I think the best way of doing that is to just be your friend.”
“Wait, so it’s all Jackie’s fault that we’re not…” begins Miles. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I should’ve never blamed you… She’s the root of all evil.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s her fault, but I just want to see you blossom in life,” says Rachel. “Is that fair?”
“So you’ll reconsider dating me once I’m over Jackie?!” says Miles excitedly.
“I didn’t quite say that, but…” says Rachel. “Let’s just head to elimination, okay?” She starts to head to the door.
“Of course,” says Miles. “Ugh, what was I thinking when I voted you out 20 minutes ago…”
“Wait.” Rachel jerks her entire body back around. “What?!”
The six Killer Wildcats make it to the elimination ceremony at the bandshell once the sun has finally set.
“Hello, perma-losers!” says Chris. Kelsey furrows her brow. “I’ve got five marshmallows this time, but let’s say hi to our visitors first, huh?” He points behind the Wildcats, and they all see Roald and Whitney sitting in seats a few rows back. “Interesting choice of volunteers, I’d say.”
“Kaitlin and Artemis started arguing again,” says Whitney. “Then Suvir got into it too. I didn’t want to deal with that tonight.’
“And I came ‘cuz she did!” says Roald. “Plus I love the cool night breeze!”
“Okay, we’ll get to that later,” says Chris. “First, we’ve got an elimination to attend to. Graham, Kelsey, Miles? You’re all safe. Didn’t see that coming.” He throws the three marshmallows. “Other three, you each got votes!”
“Wait, what?!” yells Christian. “Me and my abs got a vote? Jank!”
“Well, yes, but only one vote,” says Chris, and he tosses Christian a marshmallow. “You’re safe. Thank god, because I feel like those shirtless scenes will draw in some new audiences. Anyway, bottom two. Who’s it gonna be?”
“This is interesting,” says Rachel, and Erica just glowers at her.
“Erica, Rachel, the final marshmallow goes to..."
Rachel stands up. “Well, that’s not too surprising, I guess,” she says. “After what Miles just told me a few minutes ago. I’m sorry that I wasn’t enough of an asset to stay.”
“If I could take back my vote, I totally would…” says Miles. “I’m sorry, Rach…”
“Wait, huh? If you voted her, why didn’t it tie?” asks a confused Kelsey.
“I… voted Christian,” says Graham meekly. “I was very indecisive tonight!”
“YOU?!” roars an incensed Christian. “Let’s square up! Right here, right now!” He puffs out his chest.
“Don’t worry, everyone! I understand,” says Rachel, smiling slightly. “I accomplished everything I wanted from this experience anyway. The nature was so beautiful… I’ll never forget the smell of the lake breeze. I loved my Wildcats too, every one of you.”
“God, I wish I was that positive,” says Kelsey. “Bye, Rach, you were lovely. I mean, you're still lovely. You’re not dead, are you…” She clears her throat. “Okay, bye.”
Rachel gives Graham, Kelsey, Miles, and even Christian a group hug. “Goodbye!” she says as she heads to the Yacht of Losers.
“Bye, girl!” says Erica. “Good luck in life, I guess."
“Well, that was juicy,” says Chris after the yacht has departed. “But I’m telling you, I’m sick of all these good sports. I want more sore losers! More Kingsleys! Whatever, maybe we’ll see one of those next time on Total—”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” asks a small voice.
Chris turns around and sees Whitney. “Oh, heh-heh, yeah!” he says. “How could I forget the biggest draw of tonight? First off, I need one volunteer from the Wildcats.”
Christian’s hand immediately shoots up. “Put me in, coach!”
“Mkay. That was easy,” says Chris. “I hereby announce… Christian, tonight you’ll be heading to the Cheeses. Roald and Whitney, you’re on the Wildcats!”
“AWESOME!” cheers Roald. “What’s new pussycats, it’s bonding time!” He runs up to the team and individually bear-hugs them all, while Graham looks absolutely horrified.
“Fine, I’m sick and tired of half of you anyway,” says Christian. “Erica? Kelsey? Hit me up later. Peace.” He winks, then walks away in the direction of the Cheeses’ cabin.
“Things are about to get a heck of a lot spicier now!” says Chris, doing the real outro this time. “Only twelve remain, and the teams are now even! How will the teams acclimate to their new teammates? Will their skills be put to the test in the ultimate cash-collecting challenge? Find out the answers you’re all dying to know next time on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
Chapter 6 - Shack It Up!
“Last time on Total Drama Lakeside!” begins Chris, sitting at a bench on the beach at nighttime. “I forced our remaining 13 contestants to take part in a beach volleyball tournament, and a lot of wacky shenanigans happened! They were so wacky that I couldn’t handle the excitement!” As he says this, clips from the challenge of Chris with a completely blank expression show up on the screen. “The Wildcats had some fun interpersonal drama when Erica decided to befriend Graham and learned all her teammates’ secrets thanks to his loose lips! Meanwhile, Suvir decided his closest ally Frances was a clone or something, I’m not really sure where that came from, and Roald and Boris did some sort of weird power move thing that won the Cheeses their third challenge! Which means, alas, the Wildcats had to vote out their third member. The always devious Erica rallied her troops to vote out Rachel, who had recently rejected an even more emo than usual Miles... and got his vote as payback! She was nice. Maybe a little too nice for Total Drama? The most fun part was after the elimination, though, when I pulled out a REAL wacky twist that sent Christian onto the Cheeses and the lovers Roald and Whitney to the Wildcats! What’s gonna happen next? We’re gonna check in on both teams right here, right now on Total… Drama Lakeside!”
Right after the elimination ceremony, the Artisanal Cheeses are getting ready for bed in their dorm… or at least, most of them are.
“Where is that penguin-bodied man,” grumbles Boris to himself as he sits in bed and takes off his cat headphones. “We were supposed to work out posthaste upon his return!”
“I dunno, but he better come back soon,” says a small voice from under Boris’s blanket. “I’m getting antsy!”
“Yes, I am as well,” says Boris. “Perhaps I shall watch one more episode of Oran College Host Group?”
The blanket moves a bit, and out pops Suvir's head. “I don’t care what you do as long as you keep me hidden! She can’t probe me while I’m in here!”
“I suppose, but I still do not understand—” begins Boris.
The door swings open loudly, and the whole team glances toward the entrance not to see their two former teammates, but instead a smirking Christian with his hands on his hips. Boris’s face turns green and he faints.
“Whaddup, Cheeses?” he says. “Bow down to your new teammate.”
Kaitlin stomps over towards him. “Are you KIDDING me?” she yells. “I swear to God, we get someone WORSE than Whitney?!”
“Hmm, I didn’t even know there was a team swap occurring,” says Artemis. “But this is a lucky surprise, I’d say.” She inches close to Christian and purrs.
“Uh, you were the one that licked me, right?” he asks. “I was freaked out back then, but I’m up for it now.”
“Sounds perfect,” says Artemis. “Meet me outside by the dumpster in 20.”
“This is the best-case scenario for ya boy,” says Christian. “I was getting tired of the Cats anyway, and I haven’t gotten laid in a WEEK. It’s the longest dry spell I’ve had since 5th grade. So it’s gonna be lit to work my magic on a new group of babes. They’re kinda weird, but hey, I’ll take anything at this point. I’d probably even bang Chef… if he asked, of course.”
“I refuse to even look that evil being in the eye!” splutters Boris. “My only friend on the team, the man who has given me all the confidence I need to become Super Saiyan, has left me for dead and been replaced with a Chad! Nay, a Thad! I suppose my wise sensei Roald HAS taught me enough battle strategies to prosper… so today, we finally brawl!”
Christian hauls his suitcase into the girls’ room, where Frances is quietly sitting on her bed and writing.
“Ay, mind if I room in here?” he asks smugly. “‘Course you don’t mind. What’s good?”
“Hello,” says Frances. “It’s nice to formally meet you. I’ve always thought you were interesting.”
“Huh?” asks Christian. “I mean, I AM interesting, but where’s that coming from?”
“Oh, I don’t know. You seem very layered,” says Frances. “Also, I could use a friend. I don’t really have any, now that Suvir’s avoiding me.”
“Ha, yeah, that guy’s kinda freaky,” says Christian. “You’re better than him. Waaaay better.” He flashes her a pearly-white smile.
“Thank you,” says a slightly blushing Frances. “So, let's stick together?”
“Yeah, sure, I guess,” shrugs Christian. The two fist-bump.
“Hmm, based on Christian’s behavior in the challenges I was expecting him to be a lot more off-putting,” says Frances. “But he actually seems… nice? Of course, maybe he just wants to get in my pants, so I shouldn’t trust him, but I will anyway. It’s not fun being friendless.”
The Killer Wildcats, with one less original member but now with their two new members in tow, walk into their dorm building. Miles immediately walks over to his bed and collapses onto it.
“Welcome, you two!” says Kelsey. “Fair warning, you’re going to hear the name ‘Jackie’ a lot. Tune it out and you’ll be fine. Also, don’t get on Erica’s bad side. Think that’s it?”
“Mkay,” says Whitney, as she takes out a new fashion magazine and walks away.
“Heh-heh! Classic Walt Whitman!” says Roald. “She’s kinda shy, but don’t worry, I’m not!”
“Shy? I can handle that,” says Kelsey. “You seem friendly enough.”
“Haha, I totes am! Sometimes friendly to a fault, y’know?” says Roald. “But I’m also a challenge beast, so I hope that helps y'all out!”
“Ooooh, amazing. That’s exactly what I—I mean, we need to win,” beams Kelsey.
In the girls’ room, Whitney places her suitcase right on a bed, yawns, and sits down. Seconds later, Erica walks in.
“Excuse me? That’s my bed,” she says.
“Oh?” asks Whitney. She looks down and sees Erica’s things already on it. “Hm.” She shrugs.
“That’s kind of rude, you know,” says Erica. “You at least could’ve asked before you laid down on it.”
“You’re right, I could’ve,” says Whitney.
“I already don’t like that girl,” says Erica, then she giggles loudly. “Oh my god, is that bad? I was hoping we’d be friends because I love her style, but then she sassed me, so it isn’t happening. So the next step is to reunite with Kelsey. I feel like she’s into all that girl power stuff, so maybe I’ll use intersectional feminism as a bonding point.”
Roald runs into the boys’ room hollering at the top of his lungs, where both Miles and Graham are silently sitting on their beds and moping.
“HEYOOOOO!” he yells, but neither says anything. “Aw, you guys in a funk? Losing that Rachel chick musta been hard, huh?”
“I don’t want to talk about it…” says Miles, blowing a giant vape cloud.
“Aw man, I’ve been there,” says Roald, approaching him and patting him on the back. “Hey, I know what’ll make you feel better! Let’s go to the gym! Whenever my buddy Boris is in a bad mood, that cheers him right up!”
“I’m not exactly the gym type,” says Graham curtly.
“Yeah, me either…” says Miles. “Let me stew in my sadness…”
“Hm, fine by me!” says Roald. “That means it’s time to snoozity-snooze. Night, brotendos!”
He flings off his clothes and bounces into his new bed with a thud, then falls asleep and starts snoring within seconds.
“I don’t get why humans have such blind optimism…” says Miles. “Nothing matters in this world, and losing Rachel just proved that even further… Yeah, I know I voted for her but I guarantee she would’ve left regardless. The universe just hates me…”
The sun rises and morning comes. In the bathroom of the Wildcats’ dorm, Kelsey blow-dries her hair while listening to what sounds like ‘80s Europop. Erica suddenly walks in, clutching her toiletry bag.
“Good morning!” greets Erica. “Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you about something!”
Kelsey turns off the blow-dryer. “I’m sorry, this blow-dryer is insanely loud. Drowns out everything. Repeat that?” She laughs slightly.
“Yeah, of course!” says Erica. “So, I was just wondering, how do you feel about our new teammates?”
“Oh, they’re okay,” says Kelsey. “I like Roald enough! Whitney, not so much, but it’s in like an admirable way. She just gives zero shits.”
“Okay, good,” says Erica. “Because I hate them already, especially Whitney. She’s weird, right?”
“I’d say yes, but we have a zombie and an 1800s Englishman on our team, so,” says Kelsey.
“But those guys are fun-weird!” says Erica. “Well, I don’t like Miles, but whatever. How would you feel about voting the two Cheeses out?”
“God, Erica, it’s too early for this,” says Kelsey. “Talk to me again if we lose tonight, assuming I’m conscious and/or alive.”
“Okay! That’s totally fine!” says Erica. “I just wanted to put that out there as a possibility.”
“Sweet,” says Kelsey. She prepares to turn the blow-dryer back on.
“Oh!” shouts Erica. “One more thing! I just think us ladies should stick together. You go to a good school, right? You’re woke. You know how oppressive this whole game is. It’d be so cool if we just destroyed these men.”
“Wait, how does voting out another woman destroy the men?” asks Kelsey.
“No, I meant like—” says a frustrated Erica. “You know, whatever. Just think about it, okay?” She grins, waves, then leaves.
“I’m not really sure what her goal is at this point,” says Kelsey. “When I said that Whitney gives zero shits? Erica gives negative one shits. It’s impressive but scary. Also, Graham’s been hanging around her lately and I feel like that’s gonna get ugly. She better not taint him, he’s too wholesome for that.”
“Man! What a great sleep!” says Roald, throwing off his covers. “Hey duders, did you sleep well too?”
“Flnrf,” grunts Miles from under about five blankets.
“I’m going to go brush my teeth,” says Graham. “My mouth always tastes dry in the morning.”
“Huh, weird,” says Roald. He walks out of bed, still with his pajamas on, and into the girls’ room which is completely empty except for Whitney, lying motionless in bed with her face mask on. “Heyo!”
“Good morning to you too,” says Whitney.
“Man, what’s going on with our teammates?” asks Roald. “They’re all acting über-weird! Maybe they’re just not people people?”
“Maybe. I don’t mind,” says Whitney. “I have no desire to engage. Maybe you should try that.”
“Aw, I don’t wanna switch the charm-o-meter off,” says Roald. “Maybe I’ll think of something else!”
“It’s super chill that Whitney is on my team, otherwise I’d be feeling really lonely!” says Roald. “But I understand those guys, sometimes I get awkward around new people too. Maybe I’ll pull out some of my best ice-breakers during the challenge today? That’ll totally get ‘em to decompress!”
“He’s so… positive,” says Whitney lightly. “How does he do it? It disturbs me, but it’s all I have right now. I can already tell I won’t agree with the two other girls, so looks like it’s more Roald time for me.” She stares into space. “Great.”
Meanwhile, in the Artisanal Cheeses’ dorm, the whole team is sitting together on the ground. A giant diorama is spread across the floor with various cards and dice strewn about, and Boris is wearing an embroidered purple cape with “Luncheon Master” written on it in gaudy lettering.
“Teammates!” he says. “Before we are faced with our next battle against the dastardly Wildcats, we must sharpen both our mind and body! Gym workouts are great, yes, but this is the next step towards becoming supreme overlords of the lakeside! It is… a game of Luncheons & Laggins!”
“Ugh, you brought us all here for this?” asks Kaitlin. “What is this nerd shit?”
“Shhhh, I’m very intrigued,” whispers Artemis.
“I am the Luncheon Master,” announces Boris. “Before I begin you on your quest, each of you must create a character! In front of you is a pithy pamphlet detailing each character class. Study it rigorously, then we shall begin!” He leans in towards Suvir. “I am trying to lower the evil man’s guard, so he is unaware when I finally strike.”
“Awesome strategy, man," says Suvir.
Christian raises his hand after reading the brochure for five seconds. “Yo, I got my character. His name is C-Money and he’s a barbarian, but one of those really hot ones with a waxed chest and a 12-pack and flowing blonde hair, like mine but three times as long.”
“Hmph, I struggle to see how that will assist you in slaying dastardly demons, but very well,” says Boris.
“I’ll be a mystic,” says Artemis. “Named Artemis, obviously. My name is already suited for a fantasy world.”
“Wait, okay, is this game based on real events by any chance?” stutters Suvir.
“What? No!” says Boris. “It is completely fictitious! However, I wish it wasn’t… I would love to wed a catfolk woman.”
“Right, if you say so,” says Suvir. “All I’m saying is that there’s a picture of Nessie right here,” he holds up his pamphlet, “and I guarantee she’s real!”
“Suvir, we’ve already been over this. Nessie was a hoax,” says Frances.
“Don’t talk to me!” shouts Suvir. “ESPECIALLY about Nessie! Touchy subject!”
“Can I just create my goddamn character already?” interjects Kaitlin.
“GAH!” yells Boris. “We are getting very off-track! I should’ve known my teammates’ minds were too underdeveloped for a refined game such as this! Yes, create your character.”
“Fine, well, my character is a bard, and her name is Shontrelle,” says Kaitlin. “And she’s like a wacky bard who’s always quick with a sassy comeback, and she’s always getting up into people’s faces and shit, and also she can’t sing.”
Nobody says anything for a bit. “Okay, erm…” says Frances.
“Aw, come on, every team needs some comic relief,” insists Kaitlin. “I’ve been waiting to debut this character for such a long time. She’s gonna be perfect.”
“That’s an awful character,” says Artemis. “However, I should’ve expected as much from a talentless emu like you.”
“Ohhhh, them’s fighting words, bitch!” yells Kaitlin.
“Okay, let’s change the subject. My character is a rogue and her name is Fred,” says Frances.
“A rogue?! Named Fred?! Jesus, she’s so transparent!” says Suvir. “She’s obviously trying to come off as all soft and fun and stuff so people won’t know her true evil motives, but I’m too smart for that!”
“F-f-fine, then,” says Suvir. “My guy’s a paladin named Randy Van Vunderhoovenvanvooven. Destroyer of evil EVERYWHERE!” He narrows his eyes at Frances.
“It seems as if there are deeper issues at play here, but I digress,” says Boris. “We shall now get started! Your party of five is exploring the—”
A shrill feedback noise starts blasting out of nowhere, coming from the loudspeaker. “Greetings, kiddos!” says Chris’s voice. “Challenge time! And if you haven’t gone outside yet, it’s 95 degrees today, so uh… dress lightly!”
“BLAST!” yells Boris. “Ah, we shall resume the round as celebration once we have won again!”
Minutes later, the contestants, mostly wearing tank tops and shorts with the exception of Graham and Miles, meet Chris and Chef by the beach in front of what looks like two empty concession shacks.
“Hello, friends,” says Chris. “Today’s challenge will put your consumerism skills to the test!”
“Chris, man, you gotta work on your descriptions,” mutters Chef.
“Ignore everything that just came out of Chef’s mouth,” says Chris. “As I was saying, in this challenge each team will be in charge of one of these two concession stands! As it’s painfully hot today, most of the food in there is ice cream, but there’s a little bit of everything… except alcohol. May or may not have gotten my license taken away after that little mishap in the first challenge… heh-heh. Four team members will have to be in your shack at all times, but you can switch out whenever you need to. The remaining two will be tasked with advertising! Get those locals to your shack! Whichever team makes the most money in,” he checks his watch, “four hours wins the challenge.”
“Ay, is there air conditioning in our shacks?” blurts out Christian.
“Nope!” says Chris. “These things were built 50 years ago. What am I, made of money?”
Christian shrugs, then rips off his shirt. “Fine, let’s do this.”
“He’s really running out of material lately, isn’t he?” murmurs Kelsey, and Graham nods.
Chris clears his throat loudly. “OH! One more thing!” he yells. “I’m going to a dinner party tonight at my buddy Don’s place, and it’s gonna be classy. I have a hair appointment in an hour, and I gotta leave in 20 max. So instead of putting Chef in charge of elimination, since he can’t be trusted…” Chef grumbles something explicit. “I think it’s time to introduce a shocking new twist! So here’s the deal. The winning team tonight will vote out one member of the losing team! They can decide who goes home in any way they want, it just has to be agreed upon by the majority. Got it? Good. Go wild.”
“I feel like that was far too important for Chris to say so casually,” says Frances as the Cheeses walk towards their shack.
“Whatever, we’re still gonna win,” says Kaitlin. “I’ve got a great plan you guys are gonna love.”
“I’ve got so many insane, hilarious characters who haven’t yet seen the light of day,” says Kaitlin. “But that’s about to change, right here, right now. Chris said we could advertise? I’m gonna @#$%in’ advertise.”
“Okay, guys! I got an idea!” says Roald as the other five Wildcats pile into their shack. “There’s something I’ve been walkin’ by at the gym every day, and it’ll be PERFECT for drawing in customers. Be back in a jiff!” He sprints away.
“Welp, we’re already down one team member,” says Kelsey. “I say we all focus on selling until he gets back. Sound good?”
“No, I want to advertise,” says Whitney.
“Huh? You?” asks Erica. “No offense, but I’ve only heard you say like five words at a time. I don’t think you’ll pull in many customers.”
“Well, Erica, I think she’d be perfect at it!” says Graham, trying to coyly shoot a smile at Whitney. “She certainly has the charisma.”
“Thanks,” says Whitney. She heads to a nearby bench, puts on a pair of sunglasses, and takes out her usual fashion magazine.
“Yeah, that’s exactly the type of advertisement we need,” complains Erica.
A middle-aged woman with a short blonde bob cut walks up to the Wildcats’ concession stand with a freckled, buck-toothed boy, presumably her son, holding her hand.
“Moooom! I want a popsicle! It’s HOT!” whines the boy.
“Now be patient, Zayden,” says the mom. “Mommy has to talk to the nice lady at the cash register first, okay?”
“Nice lady, huh?” chuckles Kelsey. “I like that. How may we help you today?”
“Well, my son would like a popsicle,” says the mom. “One of those ones in the fun shapes. What kinds do you have? He’s a big fan of race cars, but he also likes dinosaurs, and that one online game where you shoot each other and dance. Forthright? Is that what it’s called? So anything shaped like one of those would be…”
“Got it,” says Kelsey. She eyes Miles, who’s slumped down by a freezer. “Miles? Hand me a race car or a dinosaur or a dancing shooter guy or something.”
“I don’t think the cooler can fit any of those things…” says Miles softly.
“Oh my god, you know what I mean,” says Kelsey. “A popsicle!”
“Whatever…” says Miles. He reaches his hand into the freezer, takes out a random popsicle, then throws it at Kelsey and she narrowly catches it.
“That almost took out my eye, but it’s fine,” says Kelsey. “Here you go, ma’am. $3.50.”
While the mom takes out a wallet from her purse and begins rifling through it, a dark shadow emerges from behind her and Zayden. The shadow reveals itself to belong to someone in a giant mascot costume, resembling an extremely happy cat wearing a purple shirt with “KW” in white lettering, and it taps the kid on the shoulder.
“H-H-HEY, KIDDO!” it says in a familiar voice.
Zayden turns around, then emits a piercing shriek. “AAAAHHHH! MOM!”
The mom turns around as well. “What the hell?” she screams. “Let’s get out of here, Zayden!” She grabs her wallet and purse and the two make a speedy getaway.
“What in the heavens is that?!” asks a terrified Graham. “We almost made our first sale!”
The cat grabs their giant mask and pops it off, revealing Roald. “Hey, teamies!” he says. “Check it out, I’m Willie the Wildcat! He’s our official team mascot!”
“Good god,” says Whitney, walking over to the stand. “That looks like one of those weird costumes my brother wears.”
“Haha, it’s so nasty in here! It smells like sweat and warm milk!” says Roald. “Wanna try it on?”
“There are few things I’d like to do less,” says Whitney. “In fact, let me just head into the shack.”
“Oh no, here she comes,” whispers Graham to Kelsey and Erica. “Wish me luck!”
“I haven’t spent any time engaging Whitney in conversation today,” says Graham. “I won’t lie, the idea is very stress-inducing, so I’ve been putting it off. But now’s the perfect time! I have my friends as buffers, and I have actual talking points now that we’re teammates… Fingers crossed.”
Over at the Cheeses’ snack shack, Kaitlin is standing right outside wearing a strange costume that looks like pirate garb, but with a giant foam block of cheese on top of her hat.
“Yarrrrr, me laddies an’ lassies!” she shouts at two random passersby. “I be Captain Cheesehat! Take a look at me wares, or yer gonna hafta walk the plank!”
“Keep walking, Barbara,” says one of the women.
“Aw, come on, that was totally great,” says Kaitlin, taking off her hat in frustration. “Maybe people just aren’t hungry.”
“I don’t know, he seems to be doing pretty well,” says Frances, gesturing to the side where a still-shirtless Christian is surrounded by many popsicles and a swarm of young, attractive women.
“6588?” says Christian to a brunette right in front of him, punching something into his phone. “Perf.” He hands the girl a popsicle. “There you go. I’ll call you tonight.”
The girl clutches the popsicle and grins. “Thank you soooo much!”
As she happily sprints away, a redhead walks up to him. “Ooooh, me next! Okay, mine is 847—”
“What exactly is going on over here?” asks Frances, walking up to the scene.
“Ay! Wait just a sec! You interrupted miss, uh,” says Christian. “What’s your name again?”
“Victoria,” swoons the girl.
“You interrupted Victoria over here! Rude. Okay, baby, now you can continue,” says Christian flirtatiously.
Frances steps forward. “No, I feel like we need to discuss this,” she says. “Are you giving these girls popsicles for free?”
“For free? Nahhh, you got it twisted. I’m giving ‘em popsicles if they give me their numbers,” explains Christian, winking.
“Oh my goodness,” says Frances. “I… let’s go.” She grabs his hand forcefully and leads him back into the Cheeses’ shack.
“And Christian Thundercock finally shows his wretched face, I see!” barks Boris. “We have not sold a single item yet, may I add!”
“Nobody is even here,” says Artemis. “It’s peculiar.”
“Likely because Christian took all our popsicles and was handing them out to hot chicks while he hit on them,” says Frances. “It’s fine now, though. We’re all back.”
“Hot chicks? Mmm, you’re already neglecting your one true love?” purrs Artemis.
“Yeah, uh, I dunno,” says Christian. “C’mon, lemme just get back out there! That was perfect advertising!”
“No! Between Kaitlin’s abominable acting and your mindless strutting about, we have achieved nothing!” says Boris. “We must stay focused.”
“With Christian as my right-hand man, of course, it is now time to debut an avant-garde street performance I have been conjuring up,” says Artemis. “Fair warning, there may be nudity involved. Christopher, I would suggest you ready your censors.”
“Yarrrr! I see ye be walkin’ by without takin’ a look at me sack o’ goodies!” says Kaitlin to a random middle-aged man. “Git back here!”
Artemis, dressed in an even flashier stage outfit than usual, walks up to her with Christian in tow. She takes off her hat and puts it on the ground upside-down to collect cash. “Step aside, amateur. It’s go time.”
“What?” yells Kaitlin. “Artemis?! You ruined my performance! I was right about to get to the good part!”
“Honey, there is no good part,” says Artemis. “That was a tragedy.” She shoves Kaitlin aside, who walks away grumbling.
“Okay, what do I gotta do?” asks Christian.
“Christian,” says Artemis, sitting him down and leaning in close to his face. “Let me inform you about the penile eye.”
Back at the Wildcats’ shack, Roald—or Willie the Wildcat—is jumping around a healthy distance away while the other five are concentrating on sales.
“Okay, we’ve sold two bags of chips so far,” says Graham. “That’s good, right?”
“I mean, it’s fine, but I don’t get these people,” responds Kelsey. “It’s 100 degrees out, you’re sweating through your shirt, and out of all the cool, refreshing foods out there, you decide you’re craving a bag of chips?”
“Ah, fair point,” says Graham. “People are strange and enigmatic. Chips are as well.”
Whitney chimes in, “I like chips.”
“Oh, me too!” says Graham. “I love them! They are my favorite snack food! I was just remarking that, you know…”
“What do you like more, chips or throwing volleyballs at the faces of unsuspecting women?” asks Whitney.
Graham gasps. “Oh my god! I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was still an issue!” Whitney rolls her eyes.
Just then, another customer comes up to the shack, but this one is a familiar face—a man with long, flowing blonde hair and a characteristically disgruntled expression.
“Get me a smoothie,” he orders.
“Sir, you could’ve phrased that so much nicer,” lectures Erica. “You know, I waitress at a chic little cafe back home, and if you talked like that to me there, you’d be kicked out immediately.”
“Do I look like I give a flying flarglebargle?” says Smoothie Guy. “Get me a smoothie!”
“Erica, pick your battles,” says Kelsey hurriedly. “Graham? Miles? Someone? Make a smoothie?”
Graham heads to the back. “Hey, maybe we can make a smoothie together!” he offers to Whitney. “I do love the scent of freshly pressed juices. Do you?”
“Nah, not really,” says Whitney.
“Well… okay,” sighs Graham. “Miles, looks like it’s you and me then.”
“Muh?” says Miles. He gets up. “Oh, sorry, dude… I’m actually going to go outside and play a song to advertise our shack… I got my guitar and everything…” He walks out.
“This is fine,” says Graham, now all alone. “Completely fine. All the love I could’ve given to Whitney… I suppose I’ll just pour it into this smoothie.” He angrily throws a bunch of fruit into the blender.
“So, you girls from around here or…” asks Smoothie Guy suavely.
“Uh, Graham?” yells Kelsey. “Can you make that smoothie as quickly as possible? Like, chop chop?”
“I don’t know what that guy’s deal is, but it’s getting old,” says Whitney. “I’m sure he’s nice or whatever, but nothing that ever comes out of his mouth interests me. I’m sick of it.”
Sitting on the bench next to the Wildcats’ shack, Miles begins. “OHHHHHHH, YOU BEAUTIFUL LAAAAYDEH,” he wails off-key, while furiously strumming his guitar. “YOU MAKE MY HEART CRYYYYYY…”
“Yeah, so if either of you have any dirty underwear you haven’t been using, send ‘em my…” says Smoothie Guy, in deep conversation with Kelsey and Erica. He glances towards Miles. “Ugh, come on, that guy’s such a weirdo.”
“Here’s your smoothie, sir,” says Erica, barely trying to hold in rage.
“Thanks,” he says, swiping the smoothie. “Later.” He takes a massive slurp, then leaves.
“Ten bucks?” asks Kelsey, looking inside the cash register. “Nice. I mean, the reason he gave us that big a tip was a little suspect, but hey, I’ll take it.”
“God, that guy was so problematic,” says Erica. “Mega-cringe. Remember what we talked about earlier?”
“Uh, yeah,” says a confused Kelsey. “Can we go like five minutes without talking strategy?” Erica nods.
Graham, now having taken Miles’ spot over by the freezer, looks at Whitney, who’s back to reading her magazine. “Miles is a good singer, no?” he says. “The song is very romantic.”
“It makes me want to gouge my ears out with a rusty pliers,” says Whitney.
“Oh,” says Graham. “Okay.”
Right outside the Cheeses’ shack, Artemis has taken off almost all her clothes except a seashell bra and a mermaid-esque skirt and is straddling Christian.
“BEHOLD!” she announces. “The sea goddess… with her catch of the day. Just look at his finely tuned cheekbones! They could cut ivory, they are that sharp… I can’t help but swoon!”
Two preteen boys run up to the performance. “Whoa! What’s happening?!” one asks.
“Get out of here, you’re too young for this,” says Artemis, her tone suddenly shifting to serious.
“Teehee!” says the other boy, dropping a $5 bill in Artemis’s hat.
“As I was saying,” continues Artemis. “The sea goddess rushes through the waves on her trusty mount… Both economical and breathtakingly gorgeous, he is! But not nearly as gorgeous as yours truly… la femme plantureuse!”
“Huh? I don’t speak German,” says Christian.
“Silence,” demands Artemis. “You’re here for eye candy and nothing more. I’m carrying this performance on my back.” She picks up Christian and flings him onto her back. “Both literally AND figuratively!”
“God, that girl thinks she’s all that,” says Erica, watching on from her team’s shack. “I’m so much hotter. Aren’t I?”
“Well, I mean—” begins Kelsey. “Oh hey, new customer.”
A unique-looking man comes up to the stand, seemingly out of nowhere. He has olive-colored skin, a beard, and a massive, unkempt mane of curly black hair, and is wearing dark sunglasses that completely block his eyes, a tan trench coat, and a red button-down shirt that’s only buttoned halfway, exposing a rather hairy chest.
“One beer, please,” says the man in a surprisingly high-pitched voice.
“Oh, um,” says Kelsey. “This is awkward. I’m sorry, but we don’t actually have an alcohol license.” She grins sheepishly. “But hey, want a popsicle? We have lots of those!” She holds up a few.
“Oh, what fun,” says the man. “Oh, what more…” He utters an abysmal and meaningless sigh, then snatches a popsicle and walks away.
“Hey, you have to pay for that!” yells Erica as he leaves.
The man stops in front of Miles, who’s in the middle of a song. “Hey man…” says Miles, pausing for a second. “You like what I’m playing?”
“You may visualize success,” warns the man, inching closer to Miles. “But don’t believe your eyes.” He walks away.
“What was that all about…” says Miles.
“I have no idea who that guy was, but that sort of negative energy is the last thing I need right now…” says Miles. “With Rachel gone, I’m already enough of a sadboy… That pube-haired poser didn’t help matters…”
Kaitlin watches Artemis’s neverending dramatic routine from inside the shack. “This has gone on long enough,” she says. “Time to put a stop to it.”
“No!” insists Boris. “See that woman over there? She glanced in our direction for half a millisecond! Obviously she is considering making a purchase!”
“I’m gonna beat her at her own game,” says Kaitlin. “Be right back, with a loooot of beer.” She leaves.
“Wonderful,” says Frances. “Wait, question. Did this team just get even smaller?”
“Yes! Where is Suvir?!” asks Boris. “He vanished at the very start of the challenge.”
Frances walks over to the storage cabinets in the back. “Knowing Suvir, I’m sure he’s…” she begins. She grabs the handle of the tallest cabinet and swings it open, revealing a shivering Suvir standing completely still. “Ha!”
“EEK!” he yells. “How’d you find my hiding spot?!”
He prepares to make a getaway, but Boris grabs his sweater. “Stay here, you miscreant!”
The customer bell rings, and all three Cheeses turn around to see a gargantuan bearded man, wearing a flannel and a knit cap, who looks extremely similar to Boris. They all gasp.
“Excuse me,” says Hippocrates “Hippo” Smith. “Might you have any limited-edition Innocuous Juice Motel vinyls for sale?”
“I… do not,” says Boris. “BUT I will gladly obtain one. Just for you, sir!”
“Wait, Boris, where are you—” asks Frances, as Boris speeds out of the shack.
“This is incredibly urgent!” says Boris hurriedly. “I shall be back posthaste!”
“Great,” says Frances, now alone except for Suvir. “Uhh… how’s it going?”
Suvir just yelps, then steps back into the storage closet and slams the door shut.
“One look at that strapping, gloriously ginger-bearded man and I knew I had met my doppelgänger!” proclaims Boris. “I thought this was only the stuff of legends, but nay! Instead of fighting, we must join forces to defeat the evil Christian, but first… I must beguile him with material goods.”
“Man! I’m sweating like a suckling pig!” says Roald, taking off the Willie the Wildcat mask and heading back into the shack. “I need a break. One smoothie, please!”
“Um, you better be paying for that,” says Erica.
“‘Course I will!” says Roald, pulling out a $5 bill from his pocket. “I’m no swindler.” He heads over to the smoothie station, stopping by Whitney. “Heyo! Whatcha readin’?”
“It’s the newest issue of Gossip Queen,” says Whitney. “And this article is completely ridiculous. It’s talking about how Kimberly Carcrashian is a ‘style icon,’ when in actuality she hasn’t worn anything remotely iconic in over a decade and she’s starting to get wrinkly. This awful purple dress she’s wearing really isn’t doing her any wonders either, she looks like an eggplant. At this level of absurdity, I just have to laugh.”
“Whoa, that’s wacky!” says Roald. “I’ve never heard you say that much at once!”
“Don’t mention it again,” says Whitney.
Roald places his hands on his chest and sighs happily, then walks over to the smoothie station. “Hey, BroDudeMan! One Mango Breeze, please.”
“Very well,” says Graham.
He aggressively swipes a couple mangos out of the bag, throws them into the blender, then pounds the button, all while looking disgruntled. After only a few seconds, he stops the blender and pours the ‘smoothie’ into a cup, although there are still giant chunks of mango floating around.
“Whoa, this is an interesting approach to smoothie-makin’,” says Roald as he takes a sip. “It’s like 3D! Super cool!” He gulps down the entire thing. “Okey-doke, time to head back out.”
“I have this sinking feeling things are going to go very wrong, very soon,” says Kelsey.
“Don’t think like that, girl!” says Erica. “You’re strong and independent! You can do anything!”
“I’m aware that my recent behavior towards Roald is puny, immature, and ugly,” says Graham. “But ugh, I can’t help it. He’s everything I’m not, and whenever he and Whitney talk… it feels like my heart is broken and will never be fixed again.”
Artemis is now wearing nothing but a thong and a pair of purple pasties. “My, Christian, it has grown rather hot outside,” she says. “Perhaps you can… cool me off?”
“Whuh?” asks Christian. “Do you mean that, like, sexually?”
“By Jove, of course I do,” snaps Artemis, rolling her eyes. “You may be gorgeous, but you’re a disgustingly bad actor. No subtlety at all.”
“Whatever, I’m going back inside,” says Christian, preparing to head back to Frances.
Two massive shadows appear behind Christian. “Ohhhh, no you’re not!” they both shout in intimidating, booming tones.
He turns around to see Boris, dressed in his flowing “Luncheon Master” cape, and Hippo, clutching the Innocuous Juice Motel vinyl and grinning cunningly. “Jesus, are you serious?”
“Of course we are serious!” says Boris. “Gaze your eyes, vile man, upon my new sidekick!”
“I am only doing this because you gifted me that limited-edition record,” says Hippo.
“Irrelevant!” blusters Boris. “There is no need for specificities! Let us begin!”
Christian assumes a power stance. “Well, if y’all really wanna brawl, then…”
The three’s impending brawl is interrupted by a gradually-increasing scream. Right on cue, Kaitlin staggers into view wearing another ridiculous costume—a white blouse with a giant plastic necklace shaped like a shamrock and a giant, frizzy orange wig—and carrying two giant, frothy mugs of beer.
“AYE!” she says in a bad Irish accent. “G’mornin’, Lakeside! I'm Crazy Paddy, an’ I’m comin’ atcha live from the Cheese Shack! We're slashin’ prices so low ye won't need a pot of gold to get sloppy!”
“Mommy, what’s that lady doing?” asks a five-year-old nearby.
“Ignore it, Braxleigh,” says the child’s mom. “I think she’s one of those ‘Jugglers.’”
“Kaitlin! What are you doing?!” hisses Boris. “You have ruined the buildup!”
Kaitlin sways to the right and spills her cup, causing a ton of beer to splash onto Hippo’s vinyl. “Ahhh! I be advertisin’!”
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!” screams Hippo. “My record has been DEFILED! I’m leaving!” He rushes away, sobbing.
Boris’s eyes narrow at Kaitlin. “You…” he says.
He charges at her but she drunkenly collapses onto him, spilling the rest of her beer onto his shirt. During this confrontation, Christian discreetly walks back into the shack, whistling.
“Hi,” says Frances, watching the fight. “Just thinking about all the choices I’ve made over the course of my life that have somehow led up to this.”
“Yeah, uh, what you said,” says Christian.
The door swings open and Artemis walks in, still almost completely naked. “I need a drink,” she says.
“Me teammates just ain’t ready for Craaaazy Paddy!” shrieks Kaitlin, still in her costume in the confessional. “This is… my… thisismybestcharacteryet. Yet. I’m such a ge… geeee… genius.” She collapses onto the sink.
“Well,” says Kelsey, counting the Wildcats’ meager amount of cash. “At least we’re not screaming and throwing alcoholic drinks at each other… yet.”
“And the challenge ends in five minutes,” says Graham, then mumbling, “Thank goodness.”
“Hey, kids!” Roald shouts from outside, holding six popsicles in his paws. “Get a nice, cool popsicle right here for only $3.99! Just whatcha need on a day this toasty! I’m so sweaty my shirt is permanently stuck to my stomach!”
A swarm of aggressive-looking prepubescent boys walks up to him. “Hey, cat-dude!” says one. “Gimme a popsicle!”
“Right on, my dude, but you gotta pay first!” says Roald.
“I don’t got money!” says the kid. “Mikey, you got money?!”
“I got no money either!” says a chubby redhead, presumably Mikey.
“LET’S GET HIM!” screams the first kid.
The group closes in around Roald and immediately starts beating him up, throwing punches, kicks, and groin shots as he crumples to the ground. Mikey takes off Roald’s Willie the Wildcat mask and begins bludgeoning him with it, while the other kids each grab popsicles and make a run for it one at a time.
“AAAAAUGH!” shrieks Roald during the onslaught. “My ice cubes!”
The remainder of the Wildcats stare in horror at this bloody scene. “Well, that looks painful,” says Erica.
“Excuse me,” says another voice. The team turns around to see a large group of teenagers outside their shack. “You guys sell popcorn? This is hilarious.”
Kelsey’s eyes light up like stars. “We DO sell popcorn,” she beams. “Five bucks for a big bag!”
The teenagers, with Smoothie Guy having returned as well for some reason, rush up to the Wildcats’ stand and fling $5 bills in the air to get their bags of popcorn and watch the brawl.
“Well, uh…” croaks Roald, with a black eye, a neck brace, and his left arm in a sling, among other injuries. “I’m a firm believer in keeping a positive attitude no matter the circumstance, but man, that was HEINOUS! My bod feels like a bowl of jelly.”
After the shacks have been closed up for the evening, both teams gather with their collected funds in a grassy knoll in front of Chef. Roald is on a stretcher off to the side, while Kaitlin is drunkenly passed out in her Crazy Paddy costume.
“I dunno what happened today, but it didn’t look pretty,” he grunts. “That bein’ said, there’s a clear winner here. Cheeses, y’ made 20 bucks. Wildcats, you got… $145.” The Wildcats erupt into cheers. “So, uh, y’ gotta vote out a Cheese. Do that in like two hours or whatever, I got places to be.”
The teams begin to make their way back to the dorms, until the sound of sirens and a cop car pulling up interrupts them.
“Goddamnit,” says Kaitlin, immediately waking up and throwing off her wig.
“Excuse me,” says one of the officers as he steps out of the car. “We got a report of drunken disorderly conduct and potential underage drinking. Something to do with a lady in a red wig throwing beer at people. You kids know anything about that?”
“No! Not at all!” says Kaitlin. “But she sounds like a bitch, you better check somewhere else.”
“Y-y-yeah, check somewhere else,” says Chef, who looks petrified with fear.
“Hmmm,” says the officer. “Fine.” He nods to the other officer, and they get back into the car and drive away.
“I was completely and utterly humiliated today,” says Boris. “I can no longer go to the gym as my comrade Roald is gone forever, and my attempts to spar with Christian ended in a loss once again. I cannot even find the effort to be angry anymore… I am just displeased. I now have nothing left but Luncheons & Laggins.”
The Artisanal Cheeses are, sure enough, resuming their game of Luncheons & Laggins in a circle on the floor of their dorm.
“Your motley crew of travelers stumbles upon a fetid swamp,” announces Boris. “There is a corpse floating about in the duckweed. It would be possible to search the corpse’s clothes for treasure, but you must proceed with caution.”
“Question,” says Christian. “Is it a boy corpse or a girl corpse?”
“Yeah, I was wondering that too,” says Kaitlin. “Because, like, I’d bang the corpse if things got bad.”
“Things didn’t get bad though,” says Frances. “We just got a ton of treasure from the Crystal Caverns. We don’t need any more.”
“I don’t know, I’m always up for treasure,” argues Artemis. “Artemis the Mystic searches through the corpse for treasure.”
“This ain’t gonna end well!” shivers Suvir.
“Let me do the explaining!” bellows Boris. “But you are correct, my friend. A rabid rat emerges from the corpse’s clothes and bites the hand of Artemis the Mystic! You must work together to cure her!”
“I don’t give a crap about Artemis’s bloody hand,” says Kaitlin. “Shontrelle the Bard keeps searching through the treasure and finds a bunch of it.”
“You cannot decide that!” spits Boris. “That is the Luncheon Master’s job! Shontrelle also gets bitten by a rat as punishment!”
Frances stands up. “Fred the Rogue has to go to the bathroom, so you guys can keep going without me.” She looks at Christian, nods, then leaves.
Once she’s gone, Christian nudges Suvir. “Hey dude, so what’s your beef with Fran lately?”
“Oh jeez,” says Suvir. “I guess it’s time to spread the word. Listen up, teamies, Frances is secretly an evil alien clone! You know Kelsey on the other team? The two are one and the same, just split into two to try and suck out our brains with straws!”
Nobody says anything for a while. “Wait, is this part of the game?” asks Artemis.
“N-n-no, it’s completely real!” insists Suvir. “That’s why I’ve been avoiding her!”
“Suvir, I’m going to say this in the classiest, most polite way possible,” says Kaitlin. “You’re a goddamn moron.”
“Aw, come on, I don’t need you to pile onto me too!” says Suvir.
“This subject matter is far too trivial to be wasting all this precious time on,” interrupts Boris. “We must resume. Artemis the Mystic’s hand is bleeding profusely! How shall you clean it up?”
“Jeez,” says Suvir glumly. “This is a scary thought, but maybe they’re right?! Not about me being a moron, but about Franny not actually being an alien clone… Man, maybe this time I’ve gone too far.”
As the sun goes down and elimination looms, the Killer Wildcats are in their dorm attempting to strategize about which Artisanal Cheese to vote out.
“Okay, girlfriend,” says Erica to Kelsey, sitting in the guys’ room with her, Graham, and Miles. “What’re you thinking?”
“Shouldn’t we wait for the other two?” asks Kelsey. “You know, for a fair and democratic decision and all?”
“Roald is upstairs taking an ice bath,” says Erica. “He said it would ‘soothe the pain.’ God, he’s so weird. Hey boys, wanna vote him out next time?”
“Yes!” says Graham without any hesitation.
“Awesome!” says Erica. “Our fem-lliance only strengthens!” She winks at Kelsey. “I think that’s all we needed to talk about, right?”
“Yeah, for sure,” says Kelsey dryly. “Except for the elimination that’s happening in,” she checks her watch, “15 minutes.”
“Listen, guys, I think we should vote out Christian…” says Miles. “He’s a traitor now…”
Erica gasps. “That’s definitely not happening!”
“Okay, but he has a point,” says Kelsey. “I feel like our move should be to take out the strongest physical threat so we can continue winning, because winning is nice.”
“Not as nice as gathering nature with Rachel…” mutters Miles.
“I agree with the physical threat strategy,” says Graham. “I’ll be right back, friends. I have… matters to attend to.”
“That challenge was disastrous,” laments Graham. “Normally I’d give up hope right about now, but not this time. I’ve spent many late nights stewing over the first thing Whitney ever said to me… that my ‘face fluff’ made me look 80. Well…” He takes a deep breath. “This hasn’t been an easy decision, but it must be done.” He pulls out an electric razor. “Here goes nothing.”
Roald is in the bathtub, completely naked, soaking his body among a giant pile of ice cubes. The door swings open and in walks a mustache-less Graham, who looks 5-10 years younger and is blushing heavily.
“Oh dang!” says Roald. “The stache is gone! I like the new look!”
“I’m just putting away my razor,” huffs Graham, picking up his toiletries bag.
“Mkay,” says Roald. “You do that, my dude. See you at elimination!”
“Yes, see you there,” says Graham as he prepares to leave the room.
Roald jolts up. “Hey, wait a sec!” he says, and Graham turns around. “Can I tell you something really personal? Like, a top-secret bro-to-bro chat?”
Graham hesitates for a second. “Um, well, I suppose. Please make it quick.”
“Sweetness!” says Roald. “So, don’t tell anyone about this. Even Miles, man. Here’s the thing.” He leans in closer to Graham. “You know Whitney? I’ve got this super-mega crush on her. It started the second we got on the train together, and it’s just been getting bigger each day. I try to talk to her all the time but she’s kinda the quiet type, y’know? So I was gonna give up, but then lately she’s been warming up to me, so I got all this renewed energy! Dude, it’s so exciting because I’ve never felt this way about a lady before! Can you be my wingman?”
“Erm…” says Graham, whose face is a deep shade of sickly green. “Yes, I definitely can. Thank you for telling me all that.”
“Of course,” says Roald. “You seem like a romantic type of guy, so I knew you’d understand! And I'll totally return the favor and help you with any chiquitas who've caught your eye!” He giddily gives Graham a very wet bear hug, then jumps out from the tub, revealing tons of pixelation. “Whaddya say, wanna go to elimination?”
“Well… your clothes…” says Graham.
Roald stands there for a moment in confusion. “OH! Haha! Yeah, I should probably put those on!”
“I can safely say tonight’s gonna be weird,” says Kelsey. “We’ve decided to vote for the biggest physical threat, which’ll be fine, but of course now I’m stressing about the future. I’m getting tired of Erica’s meaningless girl-power platitudes, and I wish she’d cool her jets just a little, because she’s starting to remind me of my less fun Greek sisters.” She pauses. “Yes, I’m in a sorority… or a women’s fraternity, technically. We do volunteer work. No regrets, it looks amazing on my resume.”
“My third eye has opened,” says Artemis. “I know for a fact they’re voting for Kaitlin tonight, and honestly, I don’t blame them. The things she did during the challenge today were so horrific that I feel they shaved 15 years off my life. She’s gone.”
"Hey, baby," says Christian, on the phone. "Yeah, 'course I saved your number. Emily, right? Wait, what? Rebecca? Shit, uh, slip of the tongue. I could never forget someone as gorgeous as you. Anyway, how's tonight at 3 am sound? You're only five blocks away? Sick. See you then. Stay sexy." He hangs up and puts his phone back in his pocket. "Aight, I've got pressing matters to attend to later. No way I'll be voted out, right?"
All twelve remaining contestants and Chef sit at the bandshell, preparing for elimination as night begins to fall.
“Whoa,” says Kelsey, taking a good look at Graham’s shaved face. “Bold new look, but I like it. Where’s the stache?”
“It was time for it to go,” says Graham, uncomfortably eyeing Whitney—who’s completely disinterested.
“Good evening, Cheeses!” says Erica diplomatically. “We’re gonna cut to the chase here, since Chris and Chef didn’t give us any marshmallows. This was a truly hard decision, and we know each and every one of you has your own strengths and weaknesses, so please don't take this personally. It was a long and painful process, but the vote was nearly unanimous, 5-1 to be specific—”
“My god, just announce it already," yawns Whitney.
“Um, I’ll take over,” says Kelsey, as Erica scowls. “Sorry about that, guys. Our decision was based on who’s shown the most consistent physical strength and brains in challenges, and who would just destroy us nonstop if we kept them in.” Christian is texting another girl, completely zoned out. “So, tonight we’ve chosen to eliminate…”
“Here comes the yelling…” squeaks Miles, as the Wildcats cover their ears.
Instead, Boris stands up quietly, a misty-eyed look on his face. “Hm?” he says. “I… do not fully understand this.”
“Okay, well,” explains Kelsey. “You’re a challenge beast. Nailing us with water balloons? That huge attack you did with Roald during the volleyball tournament? Going to the gym like 12 times a day? Super impressive, but scary to compete against.”
“Me?” asks Boris. “A challenge beast? Wait, so I am not a lowly manlet?”
“Manlet?” says Christian. “My guy, your girth is outta control. I wish I had triceps like yours.”
“I…” says Boris, starting to softly cry. “I suspect this is due to my newfound confidence. All this time, I wished to defeat Chad, but little did I know… instead I was becoming Chad.”
“Yeah, maybe?” says Christian. “I dunno, man, you do you.”
Boris continues down the path, approaching Roald. “My dearest companion,” he says. “Immediately upon arriving home, I shall purchase a gym membership to further hone my skills!”
Roald wipes away a tear. “I was the only one who didn’t vote for you, b-b-buddy!” he says. “But we had so much fun! I won’t forget it!” The two hug.
“I have no further things to say,” says Boris as he steps onto the Yacht of Losers. “Fare-thee-well, fellow competitors. My time here may have been short, but it was truly stimulating in mind, body, and spirit! Now, remember… you too can become Super Saiyan!”
He utters a battle cry, rips off his shirt, and tries to flex, and almost everyone looks away except Roald as the yacht sails into the night.
“Well, that was… somethin’,” says Chef, closing out the episode. “Who’s gonna get out next? Hell if I know, man. I think th’ next challenge’s gonna be wild. Chris has some tricks up his sleeve, but I don’t. I gotta go to sleep. See y’all next time on Total… Drama… Lakeside.”
The five remaining Cheeses silently walk back to their dorm, with Frances in the front. Suddenly, Suvir catches up to her and taps her on the shoulder.
“Whoa!” she says. “This is a surprise. Not terrified of me anymore?”
“Listen, Frances,” says Suvir. “I’ve had some pretty wacky ideas about you the past few days, but I need to get my head outta my butt. You’re my only friend here. Let’s pretend everything’s all cool again, okay?”
A smile creeps onto Frances’s face. “I thought you’d never ask. Deal.”
“Awesome!” says Suvir. The two high-five. “Hey, did you know there was a Goatman sighting last year, right around here?” he asks as they disappear into the woods.
Chapter 7 - Ballad of a Comeback Skit
Early in the morning, Chris lies in bed wearing nothing but his velvet bathrobe and looking tired, disheveled, and vaguely green. “Last time on Total Drama Lakeside,” he croaks. “I dunno what happened, really. Boris got voted out, right? I wasn’t around for most of it, and Chef wouldn’t catch me up on anything, so you’ll have to fill in the details yourselves. Now, what I WILL talk about is the [redacted] I’ve gone through in the past 15 hours.” A voice off-camera whispers something to him. “I can’t say that on air? Screw you! I’ve had a splitting headache since six o’clock in the morning, I’ll say whatever I want on air! Yeesh. Okay, sorry, that may have been a little uncalled for, but can you blame me? That dinner party lasted until 4 am. Look at me. My hair is more disheveled than it’s ever been. I’m gonna have to make a very long appointment at the salon this afternoon, but first, let’s see what the contestants are doing. I think they’re eating breakfast in the cafeteria, right? God, I need food too. Let’s do that, right here on Total… Drama… Lakeside.” He attempts to get out of bed, but trips on a blanket and faceplants onto the ground.
Over at the dining hall, the five remaining Artisanal Cheeses are eating breakfast: giant bowls of an oatmeal-like substance and hardened lumps of bread.
“I think I’d rather eat actual shit than take one more bite of this,” complains Kaitlin.
Christian takes a massive bite. “I dunno,” he says with his mouth full. “It’s prob got all sorts of nutrients in it.”
“You know, I’m more bothered that we didn’t get to finish our Luncheons & Laggins game,” says Artemis. “Not sure about you all, but I got very invested.”
“Totally agreed,” says Frances. “We had just gotten into the Cave of the Spidyr Queen when it was time for elimination, and now we’ll never know what happens next.”
“What happens next is that I’d bounce immediately!” says Suvir. “Not a spider fan!”
“That’s absurd, spiders are harmless,” protests Artemis. “And slightly cute.”
“Good thing Boris is gone, otherwise he’d pipe in about whackin’ off to Japanese spider porn or something,” says Kaitlin. “What a nerd.” She takes a beer out from her pocket and starts chugging.
“Whoa!” says Christian. “Where’d you get that? Mind sliding one my direction?”
Kaitlin finishes the beer in seconds. “Ummm, no,” she says. “It’s from my secret stash. Gotta be in tip-top shape for today’s challenge.’
“You sweet summer child,” says Artemis. “One single beer? That’s hilarious.” She takes out a teacup and a kettle out of nowhere and starts pouring a frothy white brew.
“Do I even want to ask what that is?!” asks Suvir.
“Ayahuasca,” says Artemis smugly. “Drinking this will be revelatory. I’ll experience emotional and spiritual highs you novices can only dream of.”
“Oh, wipe that look from your face,” grumbles Kaitlin. “You’re just gonna puke and get explosive diarrhea. That’s all that stuff does.”
“Maybe if my colon were as weak as yours,” says Artemis. “But it isn’t. You’ll see soon enough.” She takes a breath, then chugs the entire cup.
Suvir and Frances get up from the table at the exact same time and head to the coffee machine on the other side of the room, where Chef is lurking behind the counter.
“So, now that we’re a team again…” whispers Frances. “What’s the first move?”
“I’m ready to do a deep dive on Kaitlin and Artemis, man!” says Suvir, filling up a cup of rancid-looking coffee. “They’ve been weirder than usual.”
“That’s perfect,” says Frances. “I’d like to vote one of them out soon, so maybe we can slip in and make them feel comfortable while secretly gathering intel?”
“I like the sound of that!” says Suvir. “You take Kaitlin, I’ll take Artemis. It’ll be a breeze.”
“I can barely express how thrilled I am that Suvir and I are back in action,” grins Frances. “I really like hi—working with him. We, uh, make a very efficient partnership.”
“My mind is spinning,” says a blankly-staring, swirly-eyed Artemis. “I sense the side effects are starting to kick in, and I’ve already come to an epiphany. Today, during the challenge, I must awaken… the goddess within!”
The Wildcats pile into the dining hall, all looking varying degrees of unhappy except for Roald who seems as chipper as usual, and get into line for Chef’s oatmeal-and-bread meal.
“Oh, let me guess,” says Graham, stroking his freshly-shaven face. “You dreamt about Jackie? I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“Whoa, what’s with the grumpiness,” says Miles. “That’s my job…”
“I apologize, I have various things plaguing my mind,” says Graham hushedly. “I’ll tell you and our trustworthy teammates in just a few.”
At the front of the line, Chef hands Kelsey a plate, and she picks it up, examines the food, and winces.
“Not to be completely insufferable,” says Kelsey. “But do you serve drinks? I brought a bunch of kombucha from home, but I drank the last of it last night.”
“Yeah, hang on,” grunts Chef. He picks up a cup, hocks a giant loogie into it, then gives it back to her. “Here y’ go.”
“Thanks,” says Kelsey. “Who needs tea, anyway… or coffee… or any digestible liquids.” She takes the cup and heads to a table.
Erica pops over shortly after. “How’d you sleep, girlfriend?”
“Gonna be honest, not too well,” says Kelsey frankly as Graham and Miles sit down. “Whoa. My god, I’m still not over the baby face.”
“Well, it was just getting very itchy,” lies Graham, glancing at Whitney while she gets her food.
“Don’t worry, I love the new look!” says Erica. “You look a lot hunkier.”
“I wasn’t being serious when I said that,” admits Erica. “If I’m being honest, the mustache drew so much positive attention to his face, and now that it’s gone all I notice is how massive his nose is. But I didn’t say that out loud, since we’re friends and I couldn’t hurt his feelings like that! That’s progress, right?”
Finally, Roald and Whitney sit down, with Roald plopping down right next to Graham.
“You guys checkin’ out his new smoothness? Haha, me too!” he says, manhandling Graham’s face. “Soft as a baby’s butt, man!”
“Okay, we’ve been talking about mustaches for too long, anyone have something more interesting?” interjects Erica.
“Yeah, now I can tell you guys about my dream…” says Miles as half the team groans. “So I was in some weird room similar to our dorm, and Jackie was there, but she wasn’t even doing anything except staring at me menacingly… I wanted to tell her how I felt about her, but I couldn’t find the words to get it out… Then she vanished and I woke up and…”
“I tuned out around the third word, anyone want to catch me up?” asks Whitney.
“Yeah! He’s all sad about his ex and stuff, Kelsey told me about it the other night!” says Roald, and Kelsey shrugs.
“Rhetorical question,” says Whitney. She lifts a puny portion of oatmeal into her mouth, then gags. “Blech.”
“Look, all I wanted was an answer about what the dream meant…” says Miles.
“It means the exact same thing as all your other dreams,” says Graham. “Sometimes, those we love do not love us back, and our minds can do nothing but grapple with that harsh reality.” The whole time he’s saying this, he is staring intensely at Whitney, who just looks away.
Roald lifts up his oatmeal bowl and pours the whole contents into his mouth, then belches. “Man! You guys are grouchy this morning!” he says. “Anyone want some of my bread?”
“No thanks. I, uh, prefer my food to come from this century,” laughs Kelsey.
“Then I’ll give it to my big buddy!” says Roald. He tears off a few pieces and gives the broken breads to Graham, who snatches them away.
“Just looking at this food gives me gas,” says Whitney. “Bathroom. Be back soon, maybe.” She gets up and leaves.
“In that case, I’m goin’ in for round two!” whoops Roald, and he grabs his plate and leaves as well.
Erica leans into a huddle with the other three original Wildcats. “Okay, so,” she whispers. “Now that they’re gone, who’s in for some hot gossip?”
“That doesn’t seem like a great idea, Roald’s gonna be back within sec—” protests Kelsey.
“Okay, I can’t hold it in any longer!” cries Graham. “Last night, after I had shaved my mustache and was putting back my razor, Roald was in the bathroom as well and told me that he has this massive crush on Whitney, and then asked me to be his WINGMAN. He has no idea how I feel, and I’m sure she has no idea either. I feel like I’m about to throw up.”
“Something tells me Whitney knows how you feel,” says Erica bluntly.
“Man, I dunno if you stand a chance…” says Miles. “Roald’s all fun and happy, and us sadboys are nothing like that…”
“Sadboy?” asks an alarmed Graham. “I’m not… a sadboy, am I?”
“Nah, you’re more of a ‘tortured-artist-boy,’” clarifies Kelsey. “Definitely a difference. But anyway… yeah, you’re in a pickle. I don’t know what to say.”
“It’s fine,” sighs Graham. “I suppose I’ll just continue loving her from afar… and hating Roald from afar.”
“Oh, come on! Don’t blame it on Roald,” says Kelsey. “He’s not out to get you, I don’t think he’s smart enough for that.”
Roald comes back to the table with three more slices of bread and two bowls of oatmeal. “Hey, teamies!” he announces. “I can fit all three of these into my mouth! Haha, check it!” He shoves all the breads into his mouth, then gives a double thumbs-up.
“I may have just devised an ingenious plan,” says Graham in the confessional. “Miles is right. Against me, Roald would certainly win over Whitney, so I have to divert his attention towards someone else! Out of the remaining women, one’s taken, one’s always with that Suvir guy, and two are just scary. Therefore, that leaves me with just one choice…”
The door of the mess hall violently swings open, and in comes Chris, looking even more disheveled. He staggers towards the Cheeses’ table and slumps down next to Kaitlin.
“Ha, what a degenerate,” she says. “Am I right, ladies?”
“Teams…” Chris says weakly. “It’s time for your challenge. Now, Chef, I want three coffees and a large tub of ‘Chunky Tofu’-flavored ice cream.” He bangs his head on the table.
“Man, I ain’t seen him like this since the TDRev finale afterparty,” says Chef.
A few minutes later, Chris and the contestants have piled onto the giant, dilapidated green bus and are heading to an undisclosed destination. Chef honks loudly from the driver’s seat.
“Okay, so,” says Chris. “For today, I’ve figured out the challenge that involves the least possible effort on my end. God, I feel like turd.”
“It’s interesting how you assume any of us care,” remarks Whitney.
“I’d be angry at that, but I don’t have the physical or emotional capacity right now,” says Chris. “Let’s see here. We’re dropping you guys off at the Lakeside Community Theatre in just a sec. If you’ve seen Total Drama, you’ve seen the ‘Take a Skit’ challenge. You’ve got all afternoon to prepare for the double feature at 8:00 pm tonight. One contestant on each team will be the director, another can help them with the script, and the rest have to act. Sorry, but…” he chugs one of his coffees, “not really. There’s a costume shop next door, I think. You have eight hours, and you’ll be judged on how much emotion you can squeeze out of me, Chef, and a panel of guest judges. Only one rule, and that’s no nudity. I’m not in the mood for lawsuits today. Anyway, go wild..”
The bus skids to a halt right across the street from a shockingly nice-looking theatre, and all eleven contestants pile out of it and into the building.
“Ahahahaha, this is PERFECT,” cackles Kaitlin. “Forget about Artemis’s weird hippie tea or whatever. This challenge was made for me, and I’m about to show the whole viewing world what real talent looks like. You thought my stuff yesterday was funny? Well, I did too, but you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
The Cheeses enter their green room, which is filled with fancy furniture and giant bowls of junk food.
“Okay, everyone,” says Frances. “I’m thinking we should go with a democratic approach for director. I’d prefer no arguments today.”
“Democratic my ass,” snarls Kaitlin. “You guys are gonna love my idea. It’s about a lady who’s got crabs in her vagina, but like actual ones—”
“No,” booms Artemis. “I won’t accept your infantile ramblings. Les Fromages! I must sit down and gather my thoughts. I’ll have our play ready in 45 seconds.” She heads to a couch.
“Yo, as long as I get at least three sex scenes, I’m cool with whatever,” says Christian.
“Great to know,” says Kaitlin as she storms over to the couch. “Excuse me?! Artemis?! You can’t just do that!”
“Well, YOU can’t just do that either,” says Artemis, taking a puff of a joint.
Suvir looks on in horror. “She’s getting stoned while tripping?! God! Her brains are about to ‘splode!”
“Brains? You mean in the plural form?” asks Frances. She quickly takes out her notepad. “Hmm, you might be onto something…”
“AHEM!” yells Artemis. “I have a vision. One man… in a room. He is clothed in nothing but a fig leaf, covering his left nipple.”
“I call that role!” blurts out Christian.
“HOWEVER! This man is no ordinary man,” continues Artemis. “He is a reincarnation of Quetzalcoatl, ancient feathered deity of Aztec folklore. He must conceal his identity… all while having passionate coitus with numerous full-figured women.”
“Numerous? I only see one, and you’re just flabby,” argues Kaitlin. “Come on, this is bullshit!”
“Okay, okay,” says Frances. “I have an idea. Each of you write your plays on your own, then in a couple hours the three of us will vote on which one’s best. Sound good?”
“I see no purpose in voting, the winner has already been determined,” says Artemis.
“@#$% off, Artemis,” snaps Kaitlin. “Prepare to be blown away.”
Christian walks towards the door. “Later, dudes. I’m headed to the costume shop. Gotta find me a fig leaf.”
“Acting ain’t really my thing,” says Christian. “Why pretend to be someone else when you’re already the most mind-blowingly attractive dude on the planet? But I don’t know, man, I’m into this whole feather god thing. I’m basically a god already, but I don’t think I have feathers.” He stretches out his waistband and glances downward. “Just had to check.”
“So Graham and I will write the script while you four act?” asks Kelsey to her teammates backstage. “That was weirdly easy.”
“Of course!” says Erica. “I can’t wait to get up there and perform again.”
“I’m going to pour every inch of my heart and soul into this play…” says Miles.
“I hope I get to be the bad guy!” says Roald. “But the good guy’s cool too! No pressure!”
“Can we just go look for costumes already?” asks Whitney.
The four exit the premises, leaving Graham and Kelsey by themselves. Graham takes out a pad of paper and the two sit down on the steps of the stage.
“Okay, well…” says Graham nervously. “I’ve already come up with a rough blueprint. Want to help me through it? It could use some editing.”
“Of course!” says Kelsey. “Love a good edit.” She takes the pad of paper from him and rifles through his notes. “Ooooh boy. This is… definitely something, Graham.”
“You don’t like it?” asks Graham, biting his nails.
“No, it looks great,” says Kelsey. “It’s just, well… let’s look at the characters.” She starts reading off the page. “Sam, the aspiring poet who’s looking for love in all the wrong places. Britney, the ice queen who first rejects his advances but eventually learns the power of love. Elsie, the close friend and confidant of Sam who’s ‘level-headed most of the time.’ Thanks for that. And finally Mold, the ‘big dumb meathead’ who is misguidedly into Britney but realizes he’s not right for her, and ends up with Elsie after… character development.” She closes the pages. “Two questions. Who’d name their kid Mold, and why is Roald’s character into me?”
“He’s not!” bursts out Graham. “At least, er, not yet.” She raises an eyebrow. “But that’s not the point. Should I change the characters’ names?”
“I don’t think that’ll fix much of anything,” admits Kelsey. “Your whole thing here is obviously inspired by intimate personal details, but I actually think it’s nice.”
“Wait, really? It’s not tremendously pathetic?” asks a shocked Graham.
“Not at all,” says Kelsey. “There’s so much great art out there that comes straight from the artist’s heart. I think lived experiences make for the best stories, you know?”
“Yes! They definitely do!” says Graham. “Thank you so much, I’m glad you’ve received it so warmly.”
“Any time,” reassures Kelsey. “I’m an Art History major, I’ve got an eye for this kind of stuff. As long as the acting’s passable, we’re golden.”
“Art History? Hm, I would have pegged you for a business-y type,” says Graham.
“Ohhhh, not at all,” laughs Kelsey. “That stuff’s just for resume-padding and work experience… and to prevent myself from breaking down. I’m way more passionate about art and culture.”
“I am as well,” says Graham. “So we should make sure this is the pinnacle of Lakeside Theatre’s art and culture! Let’s start on the script.”
“Perfect,” says Kelsey. “So, it starts at a cafe? That’s a fittingly organic first setting.” The two start to write down their plans.
“Usually, I do NOT work well under pressure,” says Kelsey. “Tight deadlines usually result in me consuming six espresso shots within two hours and texting my mom eight times in a row for crisis counseling. But writing the play with Graham made me feel… satisfied? Like, the creative juices are just flowing out of control. It’s the most peaceful, warm feeling. I’m not sure what it means, but maybe getting away from academia was the exact thing I needed to relieve my stress. I don’t know, I just hope we win this challenge.”
About an hour later, the two have finished their script. “God, that was quick,” says Kelsey. “I need either a coffee or a nap.”
“It’s definitely still in draft form, but it looks far more polished,” says Graham. He holds his hand out and the two high-five. “Do you have any more critiques?”
“Well…” says Kelsey. “I’m not too keen on the ‘me making out with Roald’ aspect of the play, but that’s no big deal.”
“Oh, you’re not interested in Roald?” pries Graham. “Even, say, hypothetically?”
“Nah,” says Kelsey. “He’s not really my type. Way too short, loud, and rambunctious. But it’s cool! It’s just acting.”
“Yes,” says Graham. “Acting. Wonderful. Well, we should be set with that!”
“Set with what?” asks a high-pitched voice.
The two turn around to see their four teammates back in the theatre, each with giant boxes of props and costumes.
“Hello, everyone!” says Graham. “Thanks for… showing up, I guess. Here’s a script for each of you.” He passes out a packet of paper to each of his teammates.
“So I’m ‘Elsie?’” asks Erica, obviously displeased. “Wait, why am I in Kelsey’s role?”
“See, I helped write the play, so I’m exempt,” explains Kelsey. “I’ve got two throwaway lines as a coffee shop waitress, though.”
Whitney takes one look at her script and throws it onto the ground. “I’m not doing this. Let me be the coffee shop waitress.”
“Oh, you don’t want to kiss Miles? I figured that may be uncomfortable,” says Graham.
“It’s not that,” says Whitney. “I’m just done. I don’t want any part in your weird fantasies.”
“I would’ve appreciated any kind of kiss…” squeaks Miles.
“Fine, if Whitney’s switching, then I want to switch too,” says Erica. “Let me be the lead role! I’ll even suffer through a Miles kiss, I just want to perform.”
“I mean, I suppose that’s—” says an overwhelmed Graham.
“So Erica’s Britney, Whitney’s the barista, and that makes me…” figures out Kelsey. “Elsie. Perfect, just like fate intended.”
“Awesome!” says Roald as he checks out his script. “My guy’s name is MOLD! That’s wicked-cool, it’s like a supervillain! Can I change it to ‘Toxic Mold?’”
“No,” says Graham. “His name is just Mold. There will be no revisions to my script.”
“S’cool! I can roll with Mold,” says Roald. “And I get to kiss Elsie? Oooh, steamy!”
“Y-yes, okay,” says Graham. “Miles, you don’t want to switch too, do you? I can’t do this. I have no acting experience other than my 5th grade production of HMS Pinafore, which ended horribly.”
“Not at all, I wouldn’t let you down like that…” says Miles. “I can’t wait to perform this dramatic monologue for Jac—I mean, Britney…”
“God, I can’t believe this,” complains Whitney. “At this point, I’m one step away from quitting. What is it about me that’s inspiring Graham's disgusting fantasies? Is it because I care about my appearance and pay attention to fashion trends? Ugh. Thank god I got that waitress role, because kissing Miles? That’s the only thing worse than talking to Graham.”
“I don’t know how I feel about performing in front of a whole auditorium…” says Miles. “Playing my songs outside yesterday was fine, but then I got heckled, so this might make me pee my pants… But it’s gonna be good to finally get my feels all out in the open…”
In the Cheeses’ green room, the duo of playwrights are hard at work. Suvir is on the couch with Artemis, furtively glancing at her pad of paper, while Frances sits awkwardly on the floor next to a furiously scrawling Kaitlin.
“Done yet?” whispers Suvir. “I’m getting real impatient!”
“Calm yourself!” orders Artemis, whose scleras are a shade of deep purple. “The effects have finally set in. I’m finishing up my last scene—the ostrich sex scene. I wrote it just for Kaitlin.”
Suvir recoils in disgust. “God, that’s regusting!” he says. “Ostrich sex? Ain’t no way that’s getting past the censors!”
“Do I care about the censors?” asks Artemis. “Not in the slightest. I care about theatrical expression. Plus, the lead role—yours truly—will be nude in every scene.”
“Man, I dunno,” says Suvir. “You think the viewers really want to see that?”
“Excuse me?” asks Artemis. “I have no time for you anymore, child. Go bother Kaitlin instead, she deserves it more!”
Suvir glances over at Frances and Kaitlin, who don’t seem to be getting along much better.
“One minute left, Kaitlin,” says Frances, looking at her watch. “Got any good stuff for us?”
“None of your beeswax,” says Kaitlin. “I’m busy.”
“That makes sense, but don’t you want to beat Artemis?” asks Frances. “Show her who’s the real queen of the theatre?”
“Pffft, of course I do,” snorts Kaitlin. “Artemis is a dumb bitch. She has no idea what’s about to hit—” Frances’s timer suddenly goes off. “Hahaha, perfect! Let’s reconvene!”
Minutes later, four of the five Cheeses are sitting together on the couch, Frances with Kaitlin’s script and Suvir with Artemis’s.
“Read mine first,” demands Kaitlin.
“Okay!” says Frances hurriedly. “I guess we’re not going to wait for Christian? Isn’t he just as integral a part of the team?”
“Nah, not really,” says Kaitlin. “Just read it already!”
Frances flips through the packet and nods a few times while rubbing her chin, but as she keeps turning the pages, her expression turns into a frown. “Well, this is… not horrible,” says Frances. “Besides the spelling errors, of course. My main issue is that there’s only one role, and she’s obviously meant for you.”
“Yeah, and?” says Kaitlin. “It’s a one-woman show about a small-town belle who moves to LA to become a Hollywood starlet and has to learn how to truly make it in showbiz! I can give you guys one-line parts if you want?”
“Wait, what about the vagina crabs?” asks Suvir.
“Oh, those are there too,” says Kaitlin. She snatches the script from Frances. “Fine, I’ll add tiny roles for each of you. Suvir, you can be a vagina crab, and Artemis, you’ll be a janitor, okay?”
“So that all seems pretty dang awful, but I hate to say it, this one might be worse,” says Suvir, holding up Artemis’s script. “Chris ain’t gonna wanna see your nanners flopping around!”
“Many men enjoy seeing my nanners flop around,” says Artemis. “I doubt Chris is an exception.”
The door flies open and in comes Christian, carrying a big plastic bag stuffed with something. “Dudes! I finally got a fig leaf!” he cheers.
“That’s…” says Frances, “amazing, Christian. Now, mind helping us comb through these play drafts?”
“Sure thing,” he says, walking over. “I support whichever one has me naked, though.”
“None of them are going to feature anyone naked!” yells Kaitlin, throwing her script into the air. “I swear to god, you’re all morons.”
“Yeah, well—” Christian’s phone buzzes in his pocket. “Oh, shit!” he says, picking it up and checking who’s calling. “It’s one of the hottest girls from yesterday. Hang on, y’all.” He answers the phone. “Hi, let’s link.”
“Christian, NO,” scolds Frances. “No linking. We have to focus, okay?”
“Sorry bae, gotta blast,” Christian continues. “I’ll call you later? Get those lips lubed up. Hugs n’ kisses. Bye.” He hangs up. “So yeah, my vote’s for the naked one.”
“Okay, that’s it!” says Suvir, standing up. “We’re gonna do neither of those things. Franny and I have big issues with both, and Chris will too. I got a PERFECT idea.”
“But I…” begin both Kaitlin and Artemis.
“Hey, I’m fine with it,” smirks Frances. “After all, majority rules. Right, Christian?”
“I’m gonna say it for the third time, I literally do not care as long as I’m shirtless,” says Christian.
Suvir gives a thumbs-up. “Done deal!”
“Luckily, my idea’s way better than either of theirs,” boasts Suvir. “I’m basing this play on some diary entries I wrote three years ago when I thought I saw Mothman in my backyard. But instead of me, the lead’s gonna be a jacked detective dude and there’s gonna be an all-out brawl and then at the end I’m gonna present a PSA on how everyone needs to educate themselves on cryptids! It’s gonna be awesome AND it’s gonna spread awareness.”
A bit later, the Wildcats have left their green room and are now on the stage attempting to rehearse. The props are set up like a coffee shop, and the two “couples” of the play are each sitting at a circular table while Whitney is reading a magazine behind the “counter.”
“Okay…” says Miles, sneaking a glance at his lines. “I’m ready to order. Would you like me to pay for your coffee?”
“No, I’m fine,” reads Erica. “Hey Graham, it says I should read that line in a ‘steely, aloof tone.’ Was that steely and aloof enough?”
“Yes, it was perfect! But please don’t read the stage directions out loud, okay?” stammers Graham.
Erica nods, as she follows Miles up to the counter. “Excuse me?” she asks Whitney. “I’m going to have a…” She looks at Whitney, who’s still completely focused on her magazine. “Um…”
“Wha?” asks Whitney, looking up. “Oh. Sorry.” She looks back at her magazine.
“This is ridiculous,” says Erica. “Director, can you do something about this?”
“Yeah, just say your line already so we can get on with it…” hisses Miles.
Whitney walks out from the counter and away from the stage. “I give up,” she says. “Can you guys just cut my role?”
“Aw, come on!” says Roald, getting up from his table. “You gotta partake! You’re gonna kill those two lines you got!”
“Yeah, and Chris said everyone has to act,” says Kelsey. “Wait, what if we cut out Whitney’s lines and she just stood there? That’s acting… right?”
Whitney shrugs. “I guess.”
“Okay, sure,” says Graham. He takes off his hat and runs his hands through his sweaty forehead. “God, I may need a coffee myself. Anyway, let’s try another scene… the climax, perhaps?”
“It’s a real bummer that Whitney doesn’t wanna do anything,” laments Roald. “She and I would be a power couple in the play, just like we are in real life! S’cool though, I’m down to kiss Kelsey too, but maybe I should brush my teeth first? That bread from breakfast is stinkin’ up my breath! Über-gross!”
For the climactic scene, Kelsey and Roald are lying on the floor of the stage, which is now set up like some sort of grassy field.
“I’m really glad we could see each other tonight,” says Kelsey. “I feel so completely at ease.”
“Me too!” says Roald. “Wait, maybe that’s ‘cause I’ve been picking my boogers all day!”
Kelsey laughs stiffly. “Oh, Mold,” she says, trying to hide her disgust. “You epitomize adorableness.”
“You do too, Elsie!” says Roald. He leans in close to her face. “Man, I’m so glad I chose you over Britney. She and Sam are just such a perfect couple, y’know?”
“They really are…” whispers Kelsey, and she leans in as well.
The two are about to kiss until Graham interrupts the intimate scene. “Wait!” he blurts out. “Uh… can we take five?”
“Yeah, we can,” says Kelsey. “Let’s discuss my lines. ‘You epitomize adorableness?’ Graham, you're better than this.”
“No, no, not that,” clarifies Graham. “I just… don’t think the Mold and Kel—er, Elsie scene fits very well with the rest of the play’s mood. I don’t know if they should kiss.”
“I thought you didn’t want to change the script?” asks Erica.
“I may have initially said that, but I’m making an executive decision,” says Graham. “I hope neither of the roles mind too much. I’m changing it so now Sam and Mold will fight over Britney, with Sam winning.”
Kelsey breathes a gigantic sigh of relief, but then catches herself. “I don’t mind at all,” she says. “So Elsie’s out of the play?”
“Yes,” says Graham. “You and I can be co-directors! I’m sure Chris will be okay with that.”
“Cool!” says Roald. “Now Kelsey doesn’t have to experience my bread-breath, and I can be even eviler! Grrrr, Sam, back off my girl!” He laughs to himself.
“Okay, great!” says Erica. “But guys? Friendly reminder that we have one hour until showtime.”
Graham gulps. “Oh.”
“That was a purely strategic decision, if it wasn’t obvious,” says Graham. “I need to make sure Roald comes out of the play looking as foolish as possible, so making him even more one-dimensional was crucial. As for the Kelsey thing… I was wrong, they wouldn’t be a good match. Kelsey said she wasn’t interested in him, so I should respect that.”
“Well, thank god for that,” says Kelsey. “Kissing Roald would’ve been bad on many levels. When was the last time I even kissed a guy? Besides questionable events on the dance floors of frat parties, it’s been… two years. This would’ve been a really weird way to get back into the swing of things.”
Over in the Cheeses’ room, Christian stares at the skin-tight Mothman costume in his hands. “Well, this def wasn’t what I was expecting, but I can dig it,” he says.
“Yeah, dude! You’ve got the starring role!” says Suvir, wearing a long detective’s coat. “I just wish that costume wasn’t so creepy, man, it looks like the real thing.”
“I’m a little hesitant about the fact we’re doing improv,” says Frances in a cop’s outfit. “This could quickly and easily devolve into chaos.”
Artemis appears. “Worry not!” she thunders. “I have skyrocketed to even higher heights. You must all follow my lead.”
“Follow her lead? Jesus, I thought we were done with this shit!” yells Kaitlin.
“Suvir!” says Artemis. “Tell me the sequence of events in this play. I shall add my own creative touch.”
“Yeah, and, what even are our roles?” asks Kaitlin. “They better be good, or else I will NOT be happy.”
“Guys, guys, let’s take it one step at a time,” says Suvir. “Okay, so basically I’m out camping with Franny and we hear a rustling in the bushes. Then, Mothman jumps out and makes scary moth noises and stuff but little does he know we’re undercover detectives! Then there’s a scene at the police station the next night, we see Mothman out the window and get into our car and do a big ol’ police chase! That’s the climax! Then there’s a brawl but Mothman disappears into the night, and finally I do my informative presentation! Capisce?”
“That explanation had a suspicious lack of me,” chides Kaitlin.
“Well, I’m staying out of this,” says Frances. “Suvir, explain.”
Suvir looks more nervous than usual. “Soooo… yeah, we thought you two’d chew the scenery too much so we gave you bit parts. Kaitlin, you’re a janitor, and Artemis, you’re some lady on the street we go to for directions.”
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!” shrieks Kaitlin, right as Artemis says something bleeped out.
“No, we ain’t kidding!” says Suvir. “Look, we just wanna win, okay? And yesterday you guys ruined our snack shack, so—”
“We ruined it?!” yells Kaitlin. “You were the one hiding in the goddamn freezer the whole time because you were scared of your girlfriend!”
“Uh, we’re just friends,” says Frances, looking like a deer in headlights.
“The point is, I should be the lead role, not Christian! Literally all he’s got is sex appeal!” continues Kaitlin.
“Okay, I’m not gonna dispute that,” says Christian under his breath.
Artemis simply takes a deep breath, then picks up her ayahuasca-filled teacup and takes another swig. “I’m fine with it.”
“Hmmm, suspicious,” says Frances. “It’s probably the drugs.”
“Oh, but it’s not,” says Artemis. “See, I’m a mature and sophisticated actress who can handle not getting a lead role, unlike the hormonally-stunted Kaitlin. I simply have a few pieces of creative advice.”
“Truth is, I’m incensed,” admits Artemis. “But I can’t let that coward Suvir or his slimy snake friend Frances know that. They’ll get suspicious and remove my role entirely. Instead, I’ll be catching them off-guard with the most sensual performance of ALL. Will we win? I think we will.”
“The climax of our performance will consist of a high-thrill chase through a tunnel, rife with symbolism,” says Artemis. “Our heroes will escape the tunnel like sperm exiting the penis, through the third eye. You know… the penile eye.”
“Goddamnit, not this again,” says Kaitlin.
“Yeah, can we ease up on the dong talk?” adds Christian. “It’s making me uncomfortable.”
“Making you uncomfortable? Darling, you talk about penises more than all of us combined,” says Artemis.
Suddenly, Frances’s watch beeps. “Oh, god.” She takes a deep breath. “Guys, it’s time.”
“You guys liked Crazy Paddy, right?” asks Kaitlin in the confessional. “I’m talking to the audience right now. Just wanted to make that clear. Anyway, if you guys liked Crazy Paddy, you have NO IDEA what’s coming. Hahahaha, get ready, nerds.”
The Killer Wildcats look on from behind the curtains as large groups of people begin to swarm into the auditorium and take their seats.
“Jeez, Chris really went all out,” says Kelsey. “I have to say, I’m only a little mortified.”
“Come on girl, you’re not even gonna perform!” reassures Erica. “I should be the one who’s mortified. But I’m not, because I know how talented I am.”
“Guys, what if I accidentally vomit on stage…” says Miles.
“Miles,” says Graham, turning to face him. “Deep breaths, my friend. We’re going to be fine. This is the lowest-stress environment possible, and,” he leans in to whisper, “thank you so much for communicating my feelings for me.”
“Dude, it’s not like I really had a…” says Miles, staring into the crowd, then he quickly stops. “Holy FUCK.” He instantly wets his pants.
“Yo, what’s going on?” asks Roald.
He peeks out into the crowd with the rest of the team. A bored-looking young woman with curly magenta hair, dressed in a black shirt depicting two cobras, makes her way to the front of the theatre and sits down in the second row from the stage.
“J-j-j-j-j-j-j—” stutters Miles.
“I’ll be gobsmacked!” shouts Graham. “That’s her! It’s… it’s Jackie!”
“Huh-whaaaa?!” gasps Roald. “Jackie? Why would she come to something like this?”
“My god, that’s an ugly hair color,” observes Whitney.
“Who knows, no time for questions!” says Miles, now sweating profusely. “You guys, I can’t do this. Someone else has to take my role.”
“Someone else?” Erica says. “Oh, come on. Miles, you’re our starring role!”
“Plus, the dramatic monologue will be so much more heart-wrenching now that your lost love will be watching,” adds Graham.
“No, no, I’m leaving,” says Miles. “Gonna go back to the dorm and drink some water, then never go outside again.”
The Wildcats look back into the crowd, where another figure has walked up to Jackie in the audience: the strange, trench-coat-clad, sunglasses-sporting bearded man from the day before. He says something indecipherable which Jackie giggles at, then she leans in to kiss him as he sits down.
Miles’s face turns completely red. “What the hell?!” he splutters. “That’s that weirdo from the snack shack!”
“Okay, has today just been one giant fever dream?” asks Kelsey.
“I dunno, but you guys are on your own,” says Miles, turning around and attempting to walk out the back.
“Wonderful,” says Whitney.
“Okay, just to be clear, I do hate Miles,” says Erica. “But I’ve had such a great past couple days! I’ve been so empathetic, and it really feels like I need to keep that streak going. So I guess I’m gonna… talk to him and try to pep him up before the show. Ew, this is gonna be bad.”
“Wait up!” says Erica, running after Miles. He swivels back around to face her.
“What do you want, Jackie 2.0…” he says. “I have no time for this…”
“Look,” she says. “Sit down.” She sits down on a stage platform and he reluctantly does as well. “Don’t you wanna get out there and show her how much you’ve been thriving in life?”
“Dude, I haven’t been thriving…” says Miles. “I’ve been nothing but a sadboy. She can’t see me in my current state, it’s just embarrassing…”
“Who cares?” asks Erica. “Let’s be real, she’s seen photos of you from the past two years. She definitely knows. Just show her what she’s missing and flex on that weird beard guy!”
“I… ugh, I guess…” groans Miles. “But I can’t imagine even getting back together with her… I’ve been a sadboy for so long that it’d be hard to adjust…”
“Ugh, no more of that sadboy stuff!” says Erica. “You don’t need those vibes. Look, I’m sure your personality was just as bad back then, but now it’s just like you enjoy being sad. Now man up and go kill it out there.” She smiles wide. “Hug?”
“Whatever…” says Miles. He limply hugs Erica, then heads back to the team.
“That was the worst conversation I’ve had in a while, but she has a point…” says Miles. “I don’t know why Jackie is here, and I don’t know who that indie-wannabe poser with her in the audience is, but the point is, I’m not gonna just sit here and take this. If we’re gonna lose tonight, we’re gonna lose with a bang. Go Wildcats.”
The curtains have drawn shut, and Chris walks out from the sidelines wearing a fancy bright blue suit—with a couple noticeable coffee stains on it. The audience gives him a half-hearted applause.
“Thank you, thank you!” he bows. “Welcome to the 1st annual Lakeside One-Act Festival! We have two great plays coming up for you all tonight, written by some of the most talented playwrights this side of the… uh, lake. My trusty friend Chef Hatchet and I will be rating these losers with three special guest judges! These guys are wacky, seriously. I picked them up at a crappy dive bar at 3 am last night.” A couple people force a laugh. “That wasn’t a joke. Anyway, for our first performance, give it up for the Artisanal Cheeses with their play ‘The Untold Truth of Mothman!’”
The applause gets even less enthusiastic. The back doors swing open and three men with pads of paper surreptitiously walk in and grab seats, eventually finding some in the row next to Jackie and the bearded man.
“Those must be the judges, huh?” whispers Jackie.
The bearded man stares over at the three—a short, mustached, moon-faced man with flowing dark hair, a red-bearded man with a newsboy’s cap and a bullet-shaped head, and a tall, stubbly brunette man with a green scarf, tousled hair, and a science teacher vibe—and gives them a nod, then adjusts his sunglasses and faces forward as the curtains go up.
On stage, Frances and Suvir are sitting on the ground next to a tent and wearing pajamas.
“Yo, Fred, thanks for agreeing to camp out with me!” recites Suvir.
“Any time, Randy,” says Frances. “I’m pretty tired though, I should get to bed.”
“We decided to just use our Luncheons & Laggins characters for the play,” explains Frances. “Saved us a lot of time and energy, you know? I like Fred.”
“Now that sounds like a plan!” says Suvir. “I’m gonna snooze as well. Boy, I sure hope nothing funny happens tonight!”
“Why would anything funny happen?” asks Frances. “We’re just camping out in the middle of the nowhere, surrounded by five miles of nothing but forest. We’re gonna be fine. Plus, we’re secretly licensed detectives, remember?”
“Shhhhh!” hisses Suvir. “Now it’s no longer a secret!” He pauses. “Wait, did you hear that?”
“Hear what?” asks Frances innocently.
“Rustle, rustle, rustle!” yells a voice from off-stage.
“That rustling in the bushes!” says Suvir as Christian continues to yell, “Rustle!”
“It’s probably a squirrel or something,” says Frances, then yawning. “I’m going to bed. Night, Randy!” She takes out a sleeping bag and awkwardly hoists herself in.
A pterodactyl-like shriek emanates from off-stage and in rushes Christian, wearing nearly all of his Mothman costume except for the face mask.
“Blargh!” he yells, rushing up to Suvir and headbutting him in the stomach. He knocks Suvir out cold, then flexes and rips the torso of his costume, exposing his muscular chest.
“Dude!” wheezes Suvir. “You weren’t supposed to do that!” He starts gasping for air.
“Suvir, let’s just keep going,” whispers Frances. “Okay!” she announces to the audience. “We have to get out of here, Randy! Let’s ask that lady over there for directions!”
“Wrong scene, but whatever!” croaks Suvir. “Where’s the lady?!”
Kaitlin rushes out, wearing a janitor costume complete with a fake mustache and wielding a large broom like it’s the sword.
“Har har har!” she yells in a gravelly voice. “It is I, Jerry the Janitor! I’m here to STOP Mothman!”
“Don’t touch me!” says Christian, preparing to make a speedy getaway.
“Get back here, you crook!” yells Kaitlin. She runs up to Christian, tackles him, and starts battering him with her broom as he yowls out in pain.
“PSA,” says an irate Suvir to the audience. “This was NOT supposed to happen!”
“I swear to God, I can call my dad and he’ll sue—” yells Christian, still getting beat up and now with a black eye.
All of a sudden, sensual music begins to play and the stage is bathed in a deep purple light. Entering in from left stage is Artemis, driving one of those plastic cars children have attached to shopping carts, wearing heavy makeup and nothing but a single strategically-placed fig leaf.
In the audience, the bearded man says to Jackie, “Do you think the girls here ever wonder how they got so pretty? Oh, well I do.”
“Oh my god, me too! That’s huge bi energy,” giggles Jackie. “But none are as pretty as you, Daniel.” She snuggles up to his shoulder.
“I know,” says Daniel, and he pulls out a beer and takes a swig.
“The goddess of the moon and the hunt has ARRIVED!” she announces, seemingly frothing at the mouth. “Come, my sweet Mothman.” She drives over to the injured Christian and picks him up. “And now… for the encore!”
Artemis licks her lips and twists her hips, then the two of them start “driving” as she makes suggestive motions with her hands. The red-bearded man in the audience nods in approval.
“Encore? What? Our encore is the slide show!” protests Suvir.
Artemis thrusts her left arm forward and a giant burst of fire appears from either side of the stage. She thrusts her right arm forward and handfuls of confetti appear as well. Finally, she takes a bow and the back of the set rips off to reveal a massive photo of Artemis’s zoomed-in face blowing a kiss.
“THANK YOU, TOTAL DRAMA LAKESIDE!” she moans to complete silence. Then, after a long pause, Daniel finally starts clapping and a few others, including Jackie, reluctantly join in. The curtains fall.
Chris walks back out onto stage. “Well, that was depressing,” he says. “Chef? Judges?”
Chef holds up a piece of paper with “Three” written on it. “Nah,” he mumbles.
“My god, I miss the way theatre used to be,” says the moon-faced man, holding up a four.
“I’m pretty much in agreement,” says the stubbly man, holding up a zero making a smiley face.
“Strange,” says the red-bearded man. “I thought it was a masterwork.” He holds up a 10.
“Okay,” announces Chris. “Things aren’t looking too great for the Cheeses here, but maybe the Wildcats will crash and burn even worse? We’ll be back in five!” He walks off the stage.
Backstage, a frustrated-looking Suvir walks up to Frances. “That was absolute garbage!” he says. “So much for spreading my cryptozoological knowledge.”
“Hey,” says Frances. “Don’t worry. You did as well as you could’ve, you know? Sometimes things just get thrown into disarray. It’s never very fun.”
“Damn right, it’s not,” says Suvir. “At least we won’t be targeted toni—”
Frances interrupts him by leaning in abruptly and kissing him full-on on the lips. He takes a step back and gasps.
“Augh, what was that?!” yells Suvir. “I thought we were just buddies!”
“Buddies?” asks Frances, obviously disappointed. “...oh. Okay, I’m sorry, I thought… no, never mind, I should leave.” She walks away.
“This whole time, I’ve been hanging out with Franny because I thought she and I were just good chums,” says Suvir. “I’ve never had a friend like her, y’know? I turn off most people. But this makes so much sense… I’ve never dated anyone, I don’t really wanna, and I don’t know how to tell her that. Ugh, and we just patched things up yesterday.”
“That was a horrible idea,” says Frances. “I might’ve just ruined my closest friendship here… again. Back to being a social pariah? Well, at least I’m used to it.’
“Welcome back!” says Chris, heading back onto the stage. “What surprises are in store for the second play? Let’s just hope it’s better than that last one, eh? Now presenting the Killer Wildcats with… ‘A Modern Tale of Love and Woe!’”
A few people clap once again as the curtain rises, revealing Miles—dressed in Graham’s exact outfit—and Roald sitting at the coffee shop set, with Whitney completely zoned out behind the counter.
“Wait, what the hell? He’s in this play?” says Jackie in horror from the audience.
“Mm?” grunts Daniel.
“Just my grossest ex,” says Jackie. “Ugh, I should've expected this. I’m gonna go get some water.” She gets up and leaves right as the play begins.
“Dude,” says Miles loudly. “I mean, er, my treasured friend. I have something I need to tell you. You know that girl Britney? You know, the one over there?” He glances at Erica, wearing a wig and looking irritated.
“Yeah, man! I’ve been into that girl for like two days now! I think I’m gonna ask her out,” says Roald.
“No! No, no, no, please don’t do that!” cries Miles. “She’s my one true love! My heart aches for a woman as ravishing as her… I couldn’t bear to see her with anyone else.”
“Whoa, man,” says Roald. “Don’t get too intense!”
“Intense?” asks Miles, repeatedly glancing into the audience to see if Jackie has returned. “Love is intense! The deep, visceral heartbreak I have been experiencing is intense! You do not know intense!” He starts tearing up.
“Aw, Sam,” says Roald. “Don’t cry!” He pats Miles on the back. “Anyway, I’m gonna go talk to her. Be back in a sec!” He woodenly walks towards Erica.
“That meathead will get what’s coming to him…” says Miles dramatically.
Roald walks over to Erica. “Heyo, Britney!” he says. “This seat taken?”
“No, it’s not,” says Erica. “But don’t sit down. I have things on my mind.”
“I do too,” says Roald. “We got so much in common! Hyuk hyuk hyuk! Anyway, want to go out with me? I’m jacked and stuff!”
Erica rolls her eyes. “No, Mold, I don’t. I’m sorry, I just… don’t know if I can be with you right now. My cold, hardened exterior does not melt for just anyone.”
“Awwww, fish tails!” says Roald. “In that case, I’m gonna go itch my butt for five hours. See ya!”
Right then, Jackie walks back into the theatre, hears that exact line, then walks back out.
Kelsey and Graham are watching the action unfold from backstage. “Well, the delivery leaves a little to be desired, but things aren’t looking bad,” she says.
“Yes,” agrees Graham. “I’m wondering if Jackie’s presence will change the intended allegorical meaning.”
The camera flashes to the climactic scene of the play, where Miles and Erica’s characters are sitting at a park bench with the backdrop resembling a sunset.
“I’m so glad we were able to come here for our first real date,” says Miles. “You look radiant.”
“Thanks,” says Erica. “The sun is pretty.”
“Here’s some poetry I wrote about you…” says Miles, pulling out myriad crumpled notes from his coat pocket. “You consume my innermost thoughts, and I needed to express that in literary form.”
“Oh my god!” gasps Erica upon reading the sheets. “I… don’t even know what to say, Sam.”
“I do,” proclaims Miles. “Ja… I mean, Britney. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved. This poetry can’t even do it justice. I…” He gets up from the bench and heads towards the edge of the stage, in the direction of a certain someone. “Ever since the day you left me, I’ve found it hard to even verbalize the thoughts I’ve had, but all I can say… is that I’ve never let go of those thoughts. The very first day we met in math class, the very first thing you said to me… When you accidentally flipped your hair in my face and said ‘sorry…’ somehow I just knew we had a connection so deep and unbreakable that I just had to win over your heart. And all that time we spent together, I’ve just never…”
Over at the judges’ corner, the moon-faced man winces while the stubbly man makes a nervous tic motion of his head to the left.
As he continues, Kelsey looks on in concern. “Yeah, I should’ve expected this to happen.”
Graham, quietly sobbing, subtly tries to wipe his eyes. “Haha, yeah, isn’t it wacky?”
Miles has now stepped down from the stage and is right in front of Jackie’s row. “And that’s why I haven’t been able to let you go for the past two years, and why more than anything, I need you back.”
“Hey, man,” says Daniel, taking a giant swig of beer. “Hop off.”
Miles pulls out his vape, takes a drag, then buries his face in his hands and runs back up to the stage and behind the curtains. The crowd is dead silent for about 10 seconds until everyone suddenly erupts into raucous applause and stands up.
“A standing ovation for the Killer Wildcats!” yells Chris. “Not sure how since that was some of the worst dialogue I’ve ever heard, but—”
“My heart is on fire! Burning blue for you all!” says the moon-faced man. “Baby blue!”
“Peak artistry!” yells the red-bearded man. “A marvelous effort! Bravo!”
“That was the Lakeside Theatre’s finest work yet,” chimes in the stubbly man.
The remaining Wildcats run over to Miles on the stage and all give an awkward, impromptu bow, with the exception of Whitney.
“Graham my guy, Miles my man, that was AWESOME!” hoots Roald.
Chef walks up to Graham and Kelsey and gives them a giant bouquet of flowers. “Y’all wrote that?” he asks. “It reminds me o’ the stories my mom used to read me.” He takes out a tissue and loudly blows his nose.
“No surprise here, the Wildcats once again win the challenge!” says Chris as people begin to leave the theatre.
“It’s all thanks to our very own David Lynch,” jokes Kelsey. “And me, I guess. Team hug?”
“Yeah!” cheers Erica. The whole team leans in for a hug except for Whitney, who’s still keeping her distance.
“Aw, come on, Banana Whit!” says Roald. “Not down to spread the love?”
“Nah, that play was a trainwreck,” says Whitney. “You were pretty good, though. I’m gonna go take a shower.” She walks away.
“Cheeses?” says Chris, gazing at the five losers. “Elimination is happening in a half hour, since it’s late. Wildcats, I want you at the bandshell too!”
“Well, uh,” says Miles. “I’m gonna go talk to Jackie.”
“Man, I’m so glad our play worked out!” says Roald. “Graham’s such a cool dude for giving me a funny character like that, but I gotta wonder… was Mold supposed to be me? If he is, man, I resemble that remark! I’ve never itched my butt for more than four hours!”
Jackie and Daniel are in the lobby, both staring at their phones. All five other Wildcats subtly crawl out of the theatre doors and gather in the corner while Miles approaches the couple.
“Ahem,” he says. “H-h-hey…”
Jackie sighs. “Hi, Miles,” she says. “It’s been a while. Why is your hair the same color as mine?”
“Uh, that was a complete coincidence…” insists Miles. “So, uh, what brings you here?”
“Some Chris guy emailed me and promised us tickets and a free plane ride to this thing,” says Jackie. “I should’ve known it was a setup.”
“When they play you like a fool, like a fool you get played with,” says Daniel with a nod.
“Okay, I have to ask, who the hell is this guy…” asks Miles.
Jackie leans in and strokes Daniel’s exposed chest. “This is Daniel,” she says. “He’s my boyfriend. We’ve been dating for a year now.”
“It’s true,” says Daniel. “To love her is all I can do, in a world that’s beaten everything black and blue.”
“Nothing you’re saying even makes SENSE!” yells Miles.
“Whoa,” says Jackie. “Are you jealous? Dude, it’s been so long since we dated. I’ve gone through like four relationships since.”
“Four?!” says Miles. “I mean… yeah, I have as well. Actually five. Six, even. I’ve barely thought about you. I just wanted to catch up…”
“Sure, okay,” scoffs Jackie. “So that whole romantic monologue didn’t mean anything, then?”
“No, I was just getting into my role, all great actors do it…” says Miles.
“Right,” says Jackie. “Well, Dan and I have a late-night dinner reservation. We’ve gotta run. Awww, he treats me so well.”
“I know I do,” says Daniel, and he kisses her forehead.
“Okay, Miles, it was nice to see you, I guess,” says Jackie. “Have a nice life or whatever.” She and Daniel walk out of the building.
Miles walks back over to his teammates. “Was that bad? It looked bad,” says Erica.
“No, it wasn’t bad…” says Miles. “It was… I don’t even know.”
“I’ve been waiting for the chance to do that for two whole years now, and yet I just feel...” says Miles. “The same. Maybe I’m just destined to always be a sadboy, or maybe…”
Right before elimination, the Wildcats are in their dorm celebrating their newest win.
“Why do you guys think Chris wants us to go to elimination, anyway?” asks Erica. “I don’t trust that man.”
“Who cares, honestly?” says Kelsey. “Let’s just decompress, do some yoga or something.”
Roald walks up to Graham, who’s sitting on his bed and scrawling something in his notebook. “Hey, b-b-buddy, you’re the best wingman! Whitney said I did a good job in the play!”
“I noticed that,” says Graham, “and I’m happy for you. I think you two would make a lovely pair.”
“Really?!” asks Roald. “Golly, I hope so too! I’m gonna go take a celebratory ice shower!” He gets up and sprints to the bathroom.
“Was I lying when I said those two would make a lovely pair?” asks Graham. “One would think yes, but actually… I’m not sure. Today was revelatory. In life, I often find myself clinging onto the tiniest shreds of hope even when something’s dead in the water, but that changes now. I need to stop wasting my energy on those who don’t even care that I exist and start thinking realistically. My crush on Whitney is officially over!”
“Listen, guys,” says Miles, right as the Wildcats are about to leave. “Can I shoot something by you real quick?”
“Definitely!” says Erica, flashing a smile. “I’m all for expressing emotions freely!”
“Hey, by the way,” says Kelsey, stopping Graham. “Do you want the flowers Chef gave us? You did most of the heavy lifting today.”
“Of course!” says Graham, taking the bouquet. “Thank you so much. Writing that play today felt great, didn’t it?”
“Sure did,” says Kelsey. “You know what’s gonna feel even better? Going to bed tonight.” She laughs, then the two leave.
Meanwhile, the Artisanal Cheeses are frantically trying to discuss strategy for the first time while walking to the elimination ceremony.
“You all know damn well who I’m voting,” announces Kaitlin. “Got it?”
“You’re hilarious,” says Artemis. “At least my spectacle was interesting. Beating up Christian’s beautiful face with a cleaning item? Laughable.”
“C’mon, that wasn’t funny,” says Christian, rubbing his black eye.
“Suvir, I know things are probably weird between us again, but…” says Frances.
Suvir tries to speed up so he’s not walking alongside her. “Yeah, uh, I need some time alone right now!” he says. “I’m voting Kaitlin!”
“You’re voting Kaitlin?” asks Frances. “Oh, I was going to vote Art—” Suvir has already power-walked away.
“Today will be Kaitlin’s execution day!” cackles Artemis. “Also, producers who are watching this confessional, does anyone have contact information on that gorgeous red-bearded judge from earlier? I want him bad.”
“Artemis can go eat a dick, and so can the rest of my team,” says Kaitlin. “Goddamnit, I need a drink. Why did I waste all my beer this morning?!”
Chris watches as the 11 remaining contestants pile into the seats of the bandshell, with the Cheeses in the front looking as irritated as ever and the Wildcats in the back looking generally confused.
“Hello again, dairy products,” says Chris. “Let’s get to it, shall we? I’ve suffered through at least four of these skit challenges, and this might’ve been the most embarrassing of all. Props for the enthusiasm, though! Marshmallows go to Christian, Frances, and Suvir.” He throws them all marshmallows.
“Pfft, didn’t see that coming,” says Kaitlin angrily.
“Kaitlin. Artemis. Our two actresses being in the bottom two of the play challenge? That’s like ironic or something. Anyway, the final marshmallow goes to…”
“W-w-wait,” says a voice from the back.
“Oh, come on! No interruptions!” says Chris.
Miles stands up, as the rest of the Wildcats look at him with somewhat bittersweet expressions. “Can I take the microphone for a second?”
“Can you take it after I, y’know, announce who’s been voted off?” chastises Chris. “Tick tock!”
Miles walks up to the podium where Chris is. “No need,” he says. “I’m quitting.” A few people gasp, all Cheeses. “Yeah, uh, I’m pretty bad at elaborating on this kind of stuff but here’s the deal.”
“Our baby boy is growing up,” whispers Kelsey, and Graham smiles.
“My buddies signed me up for this show to get my mind off of my ex,” says Miles. “My ex… Jackie. I’m sure you guys know that she was here at the performance tonight. I blame Chris for that, but if we’re being honest, it was a good thing. She’s still the love of my life, but like…” He gulps. “I got what I needed tonight. She told me straight-up that she’s moved on, that she’s dating that weird Daniel guy, then told me to have a nice life… implying she won’t be in it anymore. And I need to realize that that’s okay.”
“You go, Miles!” cheers Erica. “No more sadboy!”
“Yeah, uh, that too,” says Miles. “No more sadboy. I may never be a happy boy, but I have some things to be happy about. Most of you guys are great new friends, I have that. I didn’t get voted out for the first six episodes even though all I did was whine, that’s something to be proud of too. So I’m leaving, I’m gonna go home and find a therapist.”
“Actually, you’re not gonna go home, you’re gonna go to the losers’ lodge,” clarifies Chris.
“Whatever, man,” says Miles, stepping down from the podium and heading back towards his teammates. He leans in and gives Graham, Kelsey, and even Erica hugs. “I love you guys.”
“We love you too, Miles!” says Graham. “Thanks for being your lovely, authentic self.”
“Lovely? Are you serious?” whispers Erica unsubtly.
“See you later, Cats,” says Miles.
He flashes double peace signs, takes one last drag from his vape, then heads towards the Yacht of Losers and gets on as it drives into the inky night.
“Well, uh…” says Chris. “That was anticlimactic, but I’m gonna make my big announcement anyway. As of right now, Kaitlin and Artemis are both safe, and the remaining 10 of you are now MERGED!” Instead of cheers, everyone looks slightly mortified. “Exciting, huh? Thought so. Go move into one dorm.”
“Please let us use the Wildcats' dorm," says Frances. "Ours smells like body spray and musk."
“In that case, everyone will be moving into the Cheeses’ dorm!” cackles Chris, and everyone shouts expletives. “What sorts of excitement will these new developments bring? What’s gonna go down in the challenge tomorrow? It’s gonna be INSANITY! Trust me. Find out next time on Total… Drama… Lakeside!”
- 1 = At the end of Chapter 5, Christian was swapped to the Cheeses while Roald and Whitney went to the Wildcats.
- 2 = Due to Miles's quit, both Kaitlin and Artemis were spared from elimination.
- I hadn't planned to write any more new fanfics after finishing TDSS in 2016, but a heightened level of summer boredom and the urge to practice my creative writing skills even more before graduating college made this happen.
- As this story contains an all-new cast and very few references to past Toad-al Drama stories, I consider it more of a standalone entry than the 6th story in the canon.
- The setting of this story is an homage to Evanston, Illinois, a city 20 minutes north of Chicago on the shores of Lake Michigan. Revolution City wasn't originally supposed to be based on Chicago, but its description was so vague in TDRev that I was retroactively able to give it Chicago-like characteristics.
- Boris's talk about "Chads" and "Stacies" is incel jargon. I didn't want to make Boris a full-on incel, since that'd get rid of a lot of his comedy, but I figured the way of talking was funny enough to keep in.
- Christian allegedly having a rapping career is a shout-out to Chris Noble of Survivor: Ghost Island.
- Suvir's intro confessional was taken word-for-word from the first chapter of my failed fanfic Mt. Total Drama, which I wrote around three pages of before giving up. His entire introduction scene with Kingsley was relatively unchanged too.
- Rhett's intro builds on his similarities to Wes Nale of Survivor: San Juan del Sur, in particular his reference to Jeff Probst's infamous nude scene.
- Roald's "Pineapple Breeze" deodorant was previously used by Puck in the seventh chapter of Total Drama: Superstar Showdown, being the first of many hints that they're related.
- Most of Kaitlin's lines are modeled after her inspiration from It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia, but are still originally written, while Artemis's lines are generally taken directly from the show and slightly adapted. I've found it a lot easier to write for Kaitlin than for Artemis.
- Miles's ex-girlfriend, Jackie, was named after the songs "Jacqueline" by Tracyanne & Danny and "Jackie" and "Jackie, Dressed in Cobras" by The New Pornographers.
- The idea of Graham and Whitney's interactions first came from their inspirations, Beardo and Whitney, in my Animal Crossing: New Leaf town - who often had suspicious interactions that seemed more than platonic, but also very one-sided.
- The team names were decided on a whim as I was finishing the chapter. The Artisanal Cheeses was decided as a sort of "fancy" name, something that Chris would use to try and seem more sophisticated, while the Killer Wildcats was a shout-out to Northwestern University (in Evanston) and their mascot, Willie the Wildcat. The Wildcats' team color has the same hex code as Northwestern's signature purple.
- I almost named one of the teams the Pecan Sandies, another It's Always Sunny reference, but wanted to ease up on those references.
- This chapter contains a vast amount of musical references, specifically to the band The New Pornographers. Every single NPs song written by Dan Bejar is alluded to in this chapter in some way, and these references are detailed in the list below:
- The chapter title is a reference to "Ballad of a Comeback Kid" off the album Electric Version.
- Luncheons & Laggins' "Spidyr Queen" is a sneaky shout-out to "Spidyr," originally by Swan Lake.
- Kaitlin saying "wipe that look from your face" to Artemis is a lyric from "Chump Change."
- Miles' line "last night I dreamt..." is the first line of "War on the East Coast."
- His insistence "all I wanted was an answer" is from "The Spirit of Giving."
- The "broken breads" Roald hands to Graham allude to a track called... "Broken Breads."
- Graham talking about his experience acting in Gilbert & Sullivan's HMS Pinafore references a reference (!) to the same play in the lyrics of "If You Can't See My Mirrors."
- Jackie wearing a shirt depicting two cobras references the title and lyrics of "Jackie, Dressed in Cobras."
- Daniel saying to Jackie, "Do you think the girls here ever wonder how they got so pretty? Oh, well I do" is a lyric from "Myriad Harbour," with Jackie replacing John in this scenario.
- The three judges, allegedly found by Chris at a dive bar at 3 am, are references to three writers/musicians I enjoy - the moon-faced man is Spencer Krug of Wolf Parade, Sunset Rubdown, Swan Lake, and (of course) Moonface; the redhead with a bullet-shaped head is Jonathan Ames, novelist and creator of the TV series Bored to Death; and the tall, stubbly man is singer-songwriter-whistler-violinist Andrew Bird.