I Don't Wanna Be Famous (A Total Drama SI story)

Which camper should return in chapter 15 alongside Izzy?

  • Cody

    Votes: 3 30.0%
  • Beth

    Votes: 6 60.0%
  • Owen

    Votes: 1 10.0%
  • Leshawna

    Votes: 2 20.0%
  • Noah

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Geoff

    Votes: 1 10.0%
  • Bridgette

    Votes: 1 10.0%
  • Tyler

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Katie/Sadie (one or the other)

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Harold

    Votes: 1 10.0%

  • Total voters
    10
  • Poll closed .
Prologue: I Just Got ROBbed

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
I Don’t Wanna Be Famous

A Total Drama SI story

Disclaimer: Total Drama belongs to Fresh TV Inc. I’m simply borrowing it to tell some stories.

Author’s Notes: Yeah, so, I’ve been out of the writing game for quite a while, so I figured I’d start with something relatively straightforward and linear (plot-wise) to get myself back in the groove. So what better way than to throw an SI onto Total Drama Island and watch the sparks fly?

This story’s mostly for fun and practice, so I won’t be taking it too seriously. No idea how often I’ll update, either, but I wanted to put something out there to get the ball rolling.

This isn’t a quest or anything, but I do plan on some amount of reader interaction (see the end of this post for more details on that). Reader feedback will naturally affect update frequency, as well (hint, hint; nudge, nudge).

Alright, let’s get this trainwreck of show on the road, shall we?



Prologue: I Just Got ROBbed

I awoke with a yawn. Man, that was a good sleep! I felt more rested than I’d had in- Wait. Why was I lying on the floor?

I sat up. Not only had I been sleeping on the floor, but I was in a small, featureless room. There was no furniture, no windows, and only a single door.

What the hell?

I got to my feet, frowning. I wasn’t dreaming, was I? I certainly felt awake.

Just as I was pondering the strange situation, the door opened, admitting a Caucasian man of medium height and build, with the sort of bland, featureless face you’d forget two seconds after you’d seen it in a crowd. If not for the neatly-pressed, bright yellow business suit and neon-green tie he wore I would have hardly noticed him.

Well, setting aside that he was the only other person in the room, of course.

“Hello, Jason!” he greeted cheerfully, giving me a big smile.

“Hello,” I echoed, eyeing the man cautiously. How did he know my name? Did he bring me here? For that matter, where was “here”? Aloud, I said, “Who are you?”

“Why, I’m a ROB!”

I blinked and stared at the man while thoughts rushed through my head. After several seconds of absolute silence, I spoke, my voice filled to the brim with disbelief.

“You’re a ROB? A Random Omnipotent Being?”

The man nodded. “That’s right.”

“Yeah, you’re clearly a loon. I’m out,” I said, shaking my head. I walked past the man to open the door and leave, only to stop and blink with my hand held out in front of me.

The door was gone.

“I may be a loon, but I’m still a ROB,” the man said cheerfully behind me.

I felt the hairs at the back of my neck rise, a chill going through me. Either this room was modular – and I had somehow failed to notice the door being replaced right in front of me – or this guy was telling the truth… At the very least, he seemed to have some manner of reality-warping abilities.

I quietly swallowed and turned back around to face him. He was grinning, like he’d just been told an amusing joke.

“Okay, say you’re a ROB,” I said slowly, making sure to keep my voice and face neutral, “what do you want with me?”

“Why, my dear Jason, I want you to be part of a game.”

Oh, wow, that didn’t bode well. I’d read a few ROB stories; they varied quite a bit in tone and humor, but the vast majority featured some mix of awesome, larger-than-life events and horrible, terrible suck for the protagonist.

“Please don’t make me a pony,” I blurted out.

The man – the ROB – guffawed. “Maybe next time,” he said, settling back into a grin. “I have something else planned for you.”

I sighed in relief. Okay, so it wasn’t as horrible as I’d feared. Still, he could send me to one of the suckier universes out there… like Warhammer 40k or Dark Souls or something. Taking a deep breath, I did my best to calm my nerves. Steeling myself, I fixed the ROB with my stare.

“Alright, before we continue on with whatever this is, I do have one question,” I said, crossing my arms in front of my chest and doing my best to keep my gaze level.

“Shoot.”

“Mustard yellow? Really?” I asked, indicating the wall, the floor and even the ceiling.

Seriously, who uses the same color for every surface of a room?

“Hey, I like yellow. And mustard,” the ROB said with a shrug. “It goes good on hot dogs.”

“Uh-huh…”

Silence fell.

“So, uh, what’s this ‘game’ you were talking about?” I asked finally, seeing as how the ROB was apparently content to just stand there and grin at me like a loon.

“Oh! Yes, of course! I want to put you on a reality show.”

“You want to put me on a reality show?” I asked, aghast, my every antisocial instinct screaming at me to run away. “What did I ever do to you?!

“Now, now. It’s not gonna be as bad as all that, I assure you,” the ROB said soothingly. “I guarantee you’ll like it. You’re quite intimately familiar with it, in fact.”

I blinked. “I am? But I don’t watch reality- Wait.”

The ROB nodded, smiling approvingly. “That’s right.”

“You’re putting me on Total Drama? Seriously?”

“I am indeed!”

“Okay, this might not be totally horrible,” I admitted cautiously. “I haven’t seen it in a couple years, but I should be able to-”

“Oh, of course, since knowing what will happen beforehand would give you an unfair advantage, I’ll just have to seal away all your memories of it.”

“What? Wait a sec, that’s-”

The ROB snapped his fingers. I blinked several times as a wave of disorientation washed over me, like I had just stood up too fast after waking up in the morning. I looked around, then re-focused my gaze on the ROB.

“What did you just do?” I asked, narrowing my eyes in suspicion. We’d been talking about… something… but I couldn’t quite remember what. Did he mess with my head?

“Oh, I just made some preparations,” he replied, not answering my question in the slightest. “Speaking of, I still need to make a few more. You’d best be on your way.”

“Where am I-”

Before I could say “going?”, the world flashed and swirled, and I found myself lurching forward to fall, only barely catching myself on my hands. Once the world stopped spinning I carefully stood up, one hand steadying myself on the metallic gray wall.

Hang on. Wasn’t the wall mustard yellow a second ago?

Also, why did my hand look like that? It looked vaguely deformed, kinda cartoon-y, and- Oh.

I immediately looked myself over, to see just how much the ROB had changed me.

Tattoos, check. Muscles, check. Scars, check. Huh. I guess I really did just become a cartoon version of myself, huh? Could be worse, I guess. At least I’m not a pony or anything.

Pondering this strange turn of events, I began stroking my chin, only to instantly widen my eyes and gasp when my fingers touched smooth skin. Using both hands, I felt my chin, my cheeks, even underneath my nose. Perfectly smooth everywhere.

Letting out a growl, I turned my gaze upward, shaking my fists at the ceiling.

“You took my beard! YOU ASSHOLE!




End Prologue

Author’s Notes, II: Right, so to avoid making the teams uneven, I have two choices: Either have the SI replace one of the canon (male) characters, or add one more to the opposing team. In case of the latter option, I’m thinking someone from a different Fresh TV series like 6TEEN or Stoked, just to keep things in the same meta-universe.

Your thoughts and suggestions, dear reader(s)? (Dare I presume there’s more than one of you?)
 
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JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
Alas, in 40K the enjoyment risks being very short-lived. Plus, I haven't kept up with Warhammer in years, anyway, and I'm currently not quite up to the task of getting caught up enough on the lore to write a good story.

I picked Total Drama Island because it's a show I enjoyed back in the day, and I've been meaning to re-watch it; this gives me an excuse to do so. Oh, and the fairly linear plot makes it easy to keep the over-arching stuff going on no matter what the SI ends up doing. I consider it "easy mode", as far as writing goes (now watch me get writer's block after two chapters for being cocky about it).

Anyway, hope you'll enjoy!
 

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
Aww, I was going to make a poll for which character Jason should replace, but it only goes up to 10 options. You'll just have to post your vote, instead.

Which male character should Jason replace?
1: Owen
2: Duncan
3: Geoff
4: DJ
5: Trent
6: Harold
7: Cody
8: Tyler
9: Justin
10: Noah
11: Ezekiel
12: No one! Let's add another character, instead! (Who?)

I'll keep this vote going until... I feel like I have enough input, I guess. A few days, at least.

Oh, and you can read about the characters here.
 

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
Alright, if I'm reading things right that's two votes for Ezekiel and none for anyone else. Looks like our country boy's replacing another country boy.

I'll start writing tomorrow and hopefully I'll have chapter 1 up either this week or the next.
 
Chapter 1: Fresh Off The Boat

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
I Don’t Wanna Be Famous

A Total Drama SI story

Disclaimer: Total Drama belongs to Fresh TV Inc. I’m simply borrowing it to tell some stories.

Author’s Notes: Yeah, so, the dialogue’s a bit stilted and… well, canon, in this chapter. Don’t worry, it’s going to become more and more non-canon (and hopefully less stilted) with each chapter as the ripples from Jason’s replacing of Ezekiel spread… and he learns people’s names. And yes, the SI will get less grumpy as time goes on. Also, I suck at character descriptions.



Chapter 1: Fresh Off The Boat

I found myself sitting on a bench below deck on a boat, heading… somewhere. Presumably wherever the reality show was going to be set. It alarmed me somewhat that I needed nautical transport to get there; knowing my luck, it would turn out to be one of those luxurious beachside villas where the contestants were barely allowed to go outside.

Seriously, stuck for weeks or months inside a house with who-knows-how-many teenagers? Luxurious or not, that was going to be a nightmare.

While I was pondering this, I noticed there was a full-length mirror on the wall. Deciding to check myself out, I stood up and walked over.

Looking back at me was a fairly short young man – presumably a teenager, judging by his complete lack of facial hair below the eyes – with wavy, somewhat curly dark brown hair that looked like it hadn’t been trimmed in a long while and as a result was rather wild-looking, blue-green eyes, high cheek bones, a slightly cleft chin, and an athletic build mostly covered by a long-sleeved, olive green collared shirt and forest green cargo pants along with brown hiking shoes, and a large, forest green backpack hanging from his shoulders.

“Yo, we’re here,” came a muffled voice from upstairs. “Get off, I got more teens to ferry.”

Alright, this is it. I took a deep breath, steeled myself, and walked up the stairs to the deck… to find myself looking out over what appeared to be a summer camp, composed of several cottages and other buildings surrounded by pines and firs, no luxury villas in sight. Thank ROB for small mercies!

“Jason, what’s up, man?”

I lowered my gaze somewhat to look at the speaker; a man standing on a rickety-looking wooden dock, with wavy black hair, black pinpricks for eyes, a rugged jaw covered in stubble, and wearing a dark green, short-sleeved collared shirt over what looked like a white sweater with rolled-up sleeves, along with gray cargo pants and white-and-dark-green sneakers. Oh, and he had what looked like a small pouch hanging from a leather necklace around his neck. Some kind of lucky charm, maybe?

I shrugged as I jumped off the boat and onto the dock. There was a slightly worrying creak from below, but after a quick glance downward I ignored it and turned my attention back to the man, idly noting the large sign behind him reading “Wawanakwa”. The name of the camp, maybe? “Not much. Got roped into a reality show. You the host?”

The man shot me a toothy grin and a pair of finger guns. “That’s right! Chris McClane’s my name and reality show hosting’s my game.”

“Marvelous. So what do I do now?”

“You go in the lineup,” Chris said, flicking a thumb over his shoulder toward the group of teenagers already assembled on the dock. “There’s more people coming before we begin.”

I sighed. “Great.” I walked over toward the group, while over on the mainland I could see several camera crews training their equipment on us. That would take some getting used to.

“Where did you run off from, boot camp?” asked a rough-looking guy with a short, green mohawk and a face full of piercings. He was fairly tall, and wore a black T-shirt over a white shirt, along with a pair of long jeans shorts hanging off his hips in a typical skater fashion, with white-and-red rubber shoes on his feet. If I would call his fashion sense anything, it would be half punk, half skater. Hell, he even had a studded leather collar on, for crying out loud! The guy snorted at his own joke.

I blinked at him, not having expected the question. “What? Oh, the clothes and the backpack. Nah, I just spend a lotta time in the woods. Military gear’s comfy and durable. Lots of pockets, too.”

“So, what, you’re some kind of wild child?” asked a tall, slim Asian girl with long, grayish-black hair and eyes, prompting me to look her over. She wore a small, wine red top and off-green short shorts with thick-heeled sandals, and seemed to be in good shape. I wasn’t too into the cartoon aesthetic myself, but I judged her to be on the attractive end of the scale. She smirked. “That explains the hair.”

Oh, great, I’d only just arrived and already people were giving me attitude. I glanced upward. “Yeah… I’ve been meaning to get a trim, but I was putting it off and then I got roped into this at the last second, so…”

“Aww, I think it’s cute,” a blond, green-eyed girl holding a surf board said. Her long hair was done up in a low ponytail, and she wore a tight blue hoodie with surfer shorts and sandals. “He looks like Jon Snow without the beard.”

My eye twitched slightly at the impromptu reminder of my missing beard. Damn you, ROB! “Thanks,” I said, a bit colder than intended, judging by the taken-aback look on the girl’s face.

“Hold up, last second?” asked a black girl. The black girl, now that I looked around. Her black hair was done up in a high ponytail, and she had a pair of those big loop earrings on. Oh, and she had a beauty mark on her right cheek, I noted. Her clothes consisted of a pale yellow blouse with some kind of red fruit imagery on the chest, long jeans shorts and sandals. Also – and this was very difficult not to notice – she had a lot of, shall we say, “junk in her trunk”. That was, she was on the chunkier side, but not obese. “I got my letter weeks ago. Didn’t you?”

Hmm, how to put this? “Well, I was kidnapped by a ROB, and then...” Aloud, I said, “Well, I-”

“Yeah, one of our contestants canceled at the last minute,” Chris spoke up suddenly behind me, prompting me to snap my trap shut. “Personal reasons, apparently. So the producers did a random draw from among the runner-up applicants and Jason’s the lucky winner.”

Random” my ass, I thought, thinking back to the maniacally grinning ROB. Like hell he just left it up to chance… I shrugged. “Yeah, that.”

“Hey, where’re you from?” asked a tall and lanky brown-haired kid, his voice almost a wheeze. Honestly, both the guy’s voice and his overall demeanor made me think of Shaggy from Scooby-Doo… if Shaggy had asthma and glasses. “I don’t recognize your accent, like, at all, man.”

“I’m from Sweden,” I answered, barely glancing at the guy. He seemed harmless enough, unlike the punk/skater guy.

“Whoa, that’s, like, in Scandinavia, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” I said, turning to give the boy a closer look. He wore a blue T-shirt over a pink shirt – seriously, was that a thing around here, to wear short sleeves over long? – along with green pants and some really goofy-looking blue-and-white sneakers. “Most people get it confused with Switzerland half the time.”

The boy snorted derisively, then puffed out his chest, an action which was barely noticeable on someone so skinny. “Not me. My geography skills are excellent,” he said proudly.

“… Okay,” I said uncertainly, not really sure what to make of that. Was he expecting a reward, or…?

“Cody!” I heard Chris call out suddenly. “The Code-ster! The Code-meister!

Oh, right. More people coming, I thought, turning my attention back to the show’s host and the newcomer that had just stepped off the boat. It was a short, skinny guy with brown hair… and a pale yellow T-shirt over a long-sleeved gray shirt, blue cargo pants and sneakers. Again with the short-over-long! What is up what?! Ah, well, at least I’m not the shortest guy around here…

We stood on the docks for quite a while as more and more people arrived, ferried there one by one. I realized it was probably to make things more dramatic for the viewers, but to me it just seemed like a waste of time and resources; the boat wasn’t large, but it could easily have hauled six or seven people at a time without trouble.

Once everyone had arrived safely – more or less, as the one ginger girl had tripped on the boat’s railing and smacked chin-first into the dock – Chris turned to address us.

“Everyone on the end of the dock!” he called out, pulling out a camera and then jumping onto the boat while we all filed onto the end of the dock. My antisocial instincts kicking in, I opted to stand at the back and to the side, on top of one of the poles holding up the dock. That it made me appear taller in the photo was only icing on the loner cake. As Chris aimed his camera at us, a lot of the contestants struck poses. I, for my part, opted to simply cross my arms and give a slight smile.

“Okay. One, two, thre- Oops! Okay, forgot the lens cap. Okay, hold that pose… One, two- Oh. No, wait. Card’s full. Hang on.”

I groaned along with pretty much everyone on the dock.

“Come on man, my face is starting to freeze,” the black girl said irritably.

“Got it,” Chris called out as he finished fiddling with the camera. “Okay, everyone say ‘Wawanakwa’!”

“““““Wawanakwa-aaaaaaaaaaaah!”””””

Just as we were saying the name, the dock let out a crack and collapsed underneath our combined weight. Or, should I say, their combined weight… as I was left standing safely on top of one of the poles. Antisocial skills for the win!

… Though admittedly without any obvious route of escape that didn’t involve jumping into the water. Bummer.

“All right, guys,” Chris said from atop the boat, “dry off and meet up at the campfire pit in ten!”

“Um, okay,” I said. I spent a few seconds watching everybody else trudge wearily onto land, then sighed. Taking off my shoes and then my socks, I bent at the knee and jumped as far as I could in the direction of land… surprisingly finding myself landing not in shallow water as I expected but rather halfway up the beach. I was a pretty good jumper, mind you, but not that good. Something was up.

And that’s when it struck me.

This was a cartoon. And that meant… cartoon physics.

Oh, this might turn out pretty “larger-than-life”, after all…



“This is Camp Wawanakwa,” Chris began his explanation once we were all gathered at the campfire pit – with a plethora of sittings stumps on one side, with large rocks behind them, which I could only guess would create a fairly cozy effect during nighttime. Of course, we were all sitting or standing facing Chris, who stood on the other side of the campfire pit, the rest of the camp – and two camera crews – visible behind him. “Your home, for the next eight weeks. The campers sitting around you will be your cabin mates, your competition, and maybe even your friends. Ya dig?”

I glanced around. Including myself, there were 22 teens in all, divided equally between boys and girls. There was quite the array of characters among them, no doubt chosen exactly because of the potential for conflict between them. The thought did make me wonder: did the producers of the show think to themselves that I would be a good addition to the drama when my name “randomly” came up?

Screw the producers, ROB probably had something in mind when he picked me. Beard-stealing asshole.

“The camper who manages to stay on Total Drama Island the longest, without getting voted off, will win one hundred thousand dollars!” Chris finished dramatically, bringing me out of my thoughts. I didn’t doubt for a second that the editors would add a drum roll or something before putting it on the air.

“Excuse me,” said the punk/skater boy, whose name I had picked up as “Duncan”. “What would the sleeping arrangements be? ‘Cause I’d like to request a bunk under her.”

“They’re not co-ed, are they?” the tall Asian girl – Heather, if I recalled correctly – asked worriedly when Duncan flicked a thumb in her direction, indicating she was the subject of his query.

Chris shook his head. “No, girls get one side of each cabin, and dudes get the other.”

“Excuse me, Kyle?” a blond, blue-eyed girl whose name I didn’t remember spoke. “Can I have a cabin with a lake view since I’m the prettiest?”

Oh, wow. Vanity alert, I thought, rolling my eyes. Also, wasn’t his name Chris? Did I get that wrong?

“Okay, you are,” Chris – Kyle? – said, “but that’s not really how it works here. And it’s Chris.”

Oh, okay, I did get it right. Good.

“I have to live with Sadie, or I’ll die,” the skinny half (third?) of a pair of girls who had arrived together said. She took the hand of the decidedly obese girl sitting next to her. They had matching hair and outfits in the form of twin pigtails, black-and-white tops and pink shorts and sandals, and obviously knew each other since before the competition.

“And I’ll break out in hives,” the obese girl chimed in. “It’s true!”

Wow. Dramatic much? Then again, that’s probably why they were chosen…

Ignoring the scattered mutterings – though I did note with some alarm that Duncan was giving a noogie to a deer for some reason – I focused on Chris as the host continued speaking.

“Here’s the deal,” he said, pulling out a piece of paper, “we’re gonna split you into two teams. If I call your name out, go stand over there.”

He then proceeded to call out eleven names in turn: Gwen, Trent, Heather, Cody, Lindsay, Beth, Katie, Owen, Leshawna, Justin, and Noah. They were to be known as the “Screaming Gophers”, and Chris gave them a banner displaying a stylized angry rodent.

The rest of us: Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Tyler, Sadie, Izzy, Courtney, Jason, Duncan, Eva, and Harold, were to be known as the “Killer Bass”, and our banner displayed a leaping fish. Awesome.

There was a bit of drama when the pigtailed girls realized they were going to be on separate teams, but I did my best to ignore it, having already dismissed them as overly-dramatic cry-babies.

“Alright, campers,” Chris spoke up, calling us to attention once more. “You and your team will be on camera in all public areas during this competition. You will also be able to share your innermost thoughts on tape with video diaries anytime you want. Let the audience at home know what you’re really thinking. Or, just get something off your chest.”

“What, like a confessional?” I asked.

“Exactamundo, Jason,” Chris confirmed, giving me a grin. “Any other questions, campers? Cool. Let’s find your cabins.”

He led us into the main camp and gestured first to the cabin on the right, then the one on the left. “Gophers, you’re in the east cabin. Bass, you’re in the west. Each cabin is divided in two halves, with girls on one side and boys on the other. Take some time to pick a bunk and unpack, then we’ll get back to it.”

“Excuse me, Chris?” Geoff – the tall, buff blond guy wearing an olive cowboy hat and a pink shirt with blue shorts and sandals of all things – called out as I made a beeline toward the cabin, prompting me to slow my steps and listen. “Is there a chaperon of any kind in this facility?”

“You’re all sixteen years old,” Chris said, looking around. “As old as a councilor-in-training at a regular summer camp. So, other than myself, you’ll be unsupervised.” Raising his voice, he added, “You’ve got a half an’ hour to unpack and meet me back at the main lodge, starting now.”

“Nice!” Geoff exlaimed happily, and I couldn’t help but notice his gaze immediately going to the surfer girl – Bridgette – as she walked into the cabin.

Oh, great, I thought, letting out a sigh, there’s going to be teenage love drama too, isn’t there? I bet the viewers are just gonna eat that up.

Shaking my head, I made my way into the boys’ side of the Bass’s cabin and looked around. It was straightforward enough: a decent-size room, with the left and right walls lined with bunk beds while the far wall had a single window with some moth-eaten drapes hung over it. There were eight beds in all, meaning with only five guys on my team there would be a few empty ones. Perfect.

I picked out the top-left bunk closest to the window, and barely had time to put my backpack up there to mark my claim before a high-pitched scream tore through the air. Hurrying over to the Gophers’ cabin along with everyone else in the camp, I looked inside the girls’ side to see the vain blonde, Lindsay, standing on top of a small stool and shaking with fear.

“Man, that white girl can scream,” the chunky black girl – Leshawna – commented.

“What is it? Kill it! Kill it!” Lindsay said fearfully, looking at something on the floor… which turned out to be a cockroach, running aimlessly to and fro.

Fucking seriously?

There was another high-pitched scream as the buffest dude in the camp – the black guy, DJ – shrieked and leapt onto one of the bunk beds, breaking it in half with a bang in the process.

“That was my bed,” the resident Goth girl said mournfully, whatever her name was. I gave her a gentle clap on the shoulder in sympathy, then turned my attention to the debacle unfolding inside the cabin as both boys and girls ran from the cockroach in fright. In a rare display of “courage”, Harold – the Shaggy-like boy – tried to stomp it, instead. How very brave.

“Holy crap you guys are wimps,” I said, shaking my head. I stepped forward and bent over, catching the cockroach between my fingers. Shooting a disdainful look at the people in the cabin, I added, “It’s a cockroach, not a fucking invading horde.”

With those words, I turned and walked outside, tossing the cockroach into some nearby bushes before turning my attention back to the inside of the cabin… just in time to see Tyler, the brown-haired guy in a red tracksuit, puff himself up in front of Lindsay.

“If you ever see one of those again, just let me know, ‘kay?” he said. “’Cause, you know… I can do that too.”

Oh my fucking gods, is she actually blushing? I think I’m gonna be sick.

Behind me, I heard Duncan let out a derisive snort. “They always go for the jocks.”

“Yeah… I guess they do,” I muttered, shaking my head.

This whole competition was just going to be one huge headache for me, wasn’t it?

Fuck you, ROB.

“Hey, we could always go find the cockroach again,” someone said next to me, and I half-turned to see the Goth girl grinning slyly at me. “See if he’s as brave as he says he is.”

“Heh… I guess we could,” I agreed, smirking.

Okay, so maybe they’re not all idiots.



A half hour later, we were all gathered inside the main lodge – a building a little bigger than the two cabins combined, and which apparently served the dual purpose of meeting room and canteen, with a kitchen attached. There were two long tables – one for each team – lined with stumps as seats, and the far wall from the door had a large opening in it serving as a, well, serving window. And on the other side of it was a large, angry black man in a chef’s hat and apron.

Listen up! I serve it three times a day, and you will eat it three times a day!” he barked at us as we lined up to be served. “Grab your tray, get the food, and sit your butts down, now!

And so, despite the protests of some of the campers, he began serving us our food… which consisted of some kind of gruel, bread, and some strange, red paste that looked to be vaguely alive. Yummy.

Ah, well, I’ve had worse, I mused as I sat down on the far end of the Bass’ table, finding myself sitting across from Tyler and next to… someone. The angry gym girl, whatever her name was. She promptly ignored me, which suited me fine.

After a couple minutes of mostly silent eating, Chris entered the canteen. “Welcome to the main lodge,” he said, putting his hands behind his back as he looked us over.

“Yo, my man,” Geoff called out to him, “can we order a pizza?”

His query was answered by a butcher’s cleaver spinning through the air before embedding itself in the wooden post next to the door.

“Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa! It’s cool, G!” Geoff stammered, his attention instantly on the angry black man who’d thrown the cleaver. “Brown slop is cool! Right, guys?”

Said angry black man – what was his name, anyway? – simply glared at the teen while brandishing a large kitchen knife. At the sight of his imposing figure, several of the other campers either nodded fearfully or took cover behind their table.

I couldn’t help but snicker quietly to myself. The chef was all right.

Chris chuckled, then said, “Your first challenge begins… in one hour!

“What do you think they’ll make us do?” Katie asked, looking up at DJ, who sat next to her.

“It’s our first challenge, how hard can it be?” he replied, shrugging confidently.

Oh, that’s a challenge to ROB if ever I heard one, I thought, surreptitiously looking up at the sky… or at least the ceiling. What are you planning…?

Alas, if ROB was listening in on my thoughts, he didn’t deign to reply. Oh, well.

I would have my answer an hour later, anyway.



“You know, when they told us to change into swimwear I was expecting something water related,” I said an hour later as we all stood gathered for our first challenge… on top of the highest point of the unnaturally tall mountain that dominated what from up here was clearly an island in the middle of a fairly large lake. I looked over the edge of the cliff, to the lake far, far below. From this height, the tranquil waters looked downright ominous. “I wasn’t expecting this, though.”

Next to me, DJ audibly gulped. “Oh, shit.”

“You can say that again, big guy.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Quite.”



End Chapter 1



The roster

The Screaming Gophers: Gwen, Trent, Heather, Cody, Lindsay, Beth, Katie, Owen, Leshawna, Justin, Noah

The Killer Bass: Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Tyler, Sadie, Izzy, Courtney, Jason, Duncan, Eva, and Harold
 

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
Well, so far there's been nothing to really influence the team composition beyond possible direct ROB intervention. Later seasons, though? Those teams could easily end up changed as a result of Jason butterflying things.
 

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
Quick update: It's been a busy few weeks, but I'm about halfway done with chapter 2 and should have it up before the end of the week. Hopefully my schedule will clear up over the course of the next week or two, allowing me to put out chapter 3 quicker than chapter 2, but you never know.
 
Chapter 2: The First Challenge

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
I Don’t Wanna Be Famous

A Total Drama SI story

Disclaimer: Total Drama belongs to Fresh TV Inc. I’m simply borrowing it to tell some stories.

Author’s Notes: Well, we’re finally starting to veer off from canon a bit in this one. In all likelihood each new chapter will be less and less canon as the butterflies do their thing. I didn’t get to feature every character all that much, but then, that’s understandable both because the fic’s written in first-person and because that’s pretty much how it is in every season of Total Drama until people start getting voted off in droves and they can give more air time to the ones who remain. If I tried featuring everybody to their fullest potential right from the get-go I’d probably be looking at twice as long chapters and to be perfectly frank I think I would burn out quickly if that were the case. For now, go forth with the promise that there will be deeper and more fleshed-out character interaction as the numbers dwindle.



Chapter 2: The First Challenge

After making our way to the top of the cliff, we were allowed to rest for a bit. Whether it was because Chris wanted to give us the time to properly appreciate the sheer insanity of jumping off a high cliff or some other reason I did not know; either way, I took the opportunity to check out my fellow campers. In doing so, I confirmed something I had already suspected: I was the third or fourth buffest guy there, after DJ and Geoff… and arguably tied with the self-absorbed pretty boy who kept looking at himself in his hand mirror. Where did he keep pulling that out from, anyway? Hell, did I even want to know?

Hey, I knew guys could be just as vain as girls, but that guy annoyed me simply by existing. Pretty boys were the natural enemies of average-looking guys like me, after all, and doubly so if they were vain about their appearance like that guy.

Turning my attention to the females, I did what every straight guy did in the same situation, whether they admitted it or not: I determined which ones were attractive and which ones were not.

Now, again, the cartoon aesthetic – or at least this particular cartoon aesthetic – didn’t appeal to me overmuch, but it was still easy enough to tell which ones were supposed to be attractive as opposed to not. The hot girls were Gwen, the Goth girl; Heather, the Asian chick; Izzy, the redhead; Bridgette, the blond surfer chick; the… other blond girl, whatever her name was; and the something-or-other Hispanic girl… who I could swear was sneaking glances at me. I hadn’t quite managed to catch her red-handed, but she was looking away just as I turned in her direction far too often for it to be a coincidence. Then again, I might just be imagining it; it wouldn’t be the first time I misinterpreted a woman’s actions.

Moving on, the semi-attractive ones were… Eva, the possibly Eastern-European gym girl; Leshawna, the black girl; and the slimmer of the two cry-babies, even though her whole demeanor gave me the heebie-jeebies. The rest were uninteresting, as far as physical appearance went.

Hey, just because I personally cared more about personality than looks didn’t make me blind. Besides, as soon as this competition thing was over ROB was going to send me back to my own world, anyway, so it wasn’t like there was a point in me trying to build up anything beyond casual friendships.

Actually, that was kind of depressing, now that I thought about it. Huh.

“Okay, today’s challenge is three-fold,” Chris spoke up suddenly, jolting me out of my thoughts. “Your first task is to jump off this 1,000-foot-high cliff into the lake.”

“Piece of cake,” Bridgette said. Unlike the rest of the girls, who wore bikinis or swimsuits, she wore a full-on wetsuit, as befitted a surfer. I stood between her and the cliff, looking down at what appeared to be a small circle surrounded by a larger half-circle, going out from the beach into the water. It was really far down.

“If you look down, you will see two target areas,” Chris continued behind us. “The wider area represents the part of the lake we have stocked with psychotic, heh heh, man-eating sharks!”

“You did what, now?” I asked, looking back at the host in sudden alarm.

“You heard me,” Chris replied, grinning. “Inside that area is a safe zone. That’s your target area, which we’re pretty sure is shark-free.”

Pretty sure?” I echoed in a questioning tone.

“Yeah, excuse me?” Leshawna chimed in.

Alas, the host ignored us. “For each member of your team that jumps and actually… survives, there will be a crate of supplies waiting below. Inside each crate are supplies that you’ll need for the second part of the challenge: building a hot tub! The team with the best one gets to have a wicked hot tub party tonight. The losers will be sending someone home.”

Looking back down I could see that there did indeed appear to be two piles of what could possibly be crates on the beach. It was rather hard to tell from this height and angle, though.

“Wait, hang on,” I said, turning to Chris. “We are really high up. Are we high enough for terminal velocity?”

The host shrugged. “No idea.”

I felt my eye twitch slightly, but I said nothing, instead turning my attention back to the edge of the cliff and the sheer drop beyond. Cartoon physics or not, that looked like it would be painful. And were there really sharks down there?

Okay, so, I’ll need to maximize air resistance, and then-

“Let’s see… Killer Bass, you’re up first,” Chris spoke, once more interrupting my thoughts.

“Oh, wow,” Bridgette said, having joined me in looking over the edge of the cliff. She looked back at the rest of our team. “So, who wants to go first?”

As was appropriate for a cartoon, I heard crickets as everyone on our team looked away awkwardly. At least it was good to know that we didn’t have any suicidal people on our team.

“Hey, don’t sweat it guys,” the fat guy – Owen – said suddenly, bringing my attention to the other team, the Screaming Gophers. “I heard that these shows always make the interns do the stunts first to make sure it’s survivable.”

“Is that a body down there?” I half-joked, peering downward. There were some scattered, nervous laughs in response.

“So, who’s up?” asked Eva, looking around.

“Ladies first,” Duncan said slyly, glancing at Bridgette.

“Fine, I’ll go,” she said.

“All yours,” I told her, stepping back from the edge.

“Thanks,” she said, giving me a wan smile. She took a deep breath. “Yeah, it’s no big deal. Just an insane cliff dive into a circle of angry sharks.”

“Exactly! Not harrowing at all,” I agreed cheerfully, crossing my arms and nodding.

Bridgette gave another wan smile, then jumped, performing a perfect swan dive into the middle of the smaller circle. A couple seconds later, she resurfaced, waving up at us.

“Oh, hey, she didn’t go splat,” I said aloud as a boat pulled up to get her out of the water, prompting multiple people to let out sighs of relief. “Alright, guess I’m nex-”

“She did it! Yeah! I’m next!”

Before I could even get into position, I saw one of my teammates – the overly enthusiastic sports jock, Tyler – run past me and dive off the cliff.

Cowabunga!

“Hey, I wanted to say that!” I complained as the boy fell… only to smack face-first into a buoy at the outer edge of the smaller circle. That had to hurt. On the bright side, he didn’t go splat either, and apart from what was possibly a concussion looked to be all right, so the fall was definitely survivable even without a perfect landing.

“Okay, now it’s my turn,” I said, shooting my teammates a pointed look. Turning back to the cliff’s edge, I took several quick breaths, psyching myself up… then ran and jumped, doing my best to aim for the smaller circle. As I fell I angled my body to maximize my air resistance and slow myself down as much as possible, then gradually changed my angle of descent so I would fall feet-first into the water.

What? I was more concerned with survival than artistic grace, so sue me.

I hit the water just inside the smaller circle, and immediately I felt pressure on my ears as I descended far below the waterline. After what felt like seconds my feet hit the muddy bottom of the lake, and I bent my knees and kicked off to hurry my ascent. I broke the surface soon after, pulling back a breath. I hadn’t been low on air or anything, but it seemed appropriate.

“Good job landing in the circle,” Bridgette said as she extended a hand. I took it and she helped me up on the boat that was parked right outside the circle.

“Thanks,” I said, grinning at her as I climbed onto the boat. Doing the jump – and surviving without injury – felt exhilarating, not gonna lie. I looked behind her to see Tyler, lying in a heap on the deck, groaning pitifully. I winced in sympathy, then waited for the intern driving the boat to let us off on the beach before turning my attention to the top of the cliff to watch the rest of our team do the jump.

One by one, they did… with varying levels of grace and injury. Unsurprisingly the sportier ones like Geoff and Eva did a better job of it than the likes of the lanky, potentially asthmatic Harold… who somehow managed to land split-legged on the surface of the water, quite literally jumping in balls-first. His drawn-out screams echoed across the lake, to be silenced only when he sank beneath the waves.

I no longer felt sorry for Tyler.

After Harold was fished out of the water came the two cry-babies, Katie and Sadie – who were supposed to be on different teams. Did they convince Chris to let them jump out of order? Well, in any case, they successfully completed the jump to land in the smaller circle… and after that there was a long period of nothing from up above.

“What are they doing up there? We’re still missing some people, aren’t we?” I asked, looking around. There were nine people on the beach, including the two girls Katie and Sadie… who I’d found out had convinced Chris to let them both be on the same team, with Katie switching out with the ginger girl, Izzy. Which was unfortunate; she seemed like a way more fun person. In any case, that meant we were still missing two people: the big guy, DJ, and… something-or-other. The Hispanic girl.

“DJ chickened out,” Duncan said. “Miss ‘Prim and Proper’ probably did, too.”

“Aww, man,” I said. “We’re not gonna lose the first challenge, are we?”

Eventually, the members of the Screaming Gophers started falling from the sky, starting with the Asian girl, Heather. Though for some reason her fall was particularly unceremonious and out-of-control, almost like she’d been thrown off. She still managed to land in the smaller circle, though. Weird.

One by one, the Screaming Gophers jumped, often while screaming in terror. Seriously, was someone up there just throwing them off against their will?

Actually, that was probably a smart tactic, if so. Couldn’t chicken out mid-air, after all.

Eventually, it was the turn of the self-absorbed pretty boy of the competition… whose name I still couldn’t remember. He was the first to land outside the smaller circle, and as I watched what appeared to be two sharks made a beeline toward him, their dorsal fins sticking out of the water.

The lot of us on the beach cried out warnings… and then something happened that I would never have expected in a million years.

The pretty boy turned toward the sharks just as their heads broke the surface, and he smiled, his perfect teeth dazzling in the sunlight.

Instantly, they were… charmed. Enamored. Apparently, the guy was so freakin’ hot that even the females of other species fell under his spell. Or at least I hoped the sharks were female. The larger of the two let the boy ride on its head as it carried him onto the beach, where he jumped off and graced them with another dazzling smile before walking up to join the rest of us.

I felt my eye twitch as I forcibly suppressed the impulse to punch the guy in his perfect face. Seriously, the fact that this was a cartoon was probably the only thing that prevented me from doing so; if something so outrageous had happened in my own world, I may not have been able to keep myself from pummeling the offender for the crime of existing.

… No, that wasn’t true; I had more self-control than that. It would have been incredibly tempting, though.

Muttering curses under my breath, I turned my attention to a sudden disturbance in the foliage at the end of the beach; it was DJ and the Hispanic girl, coming to join us from the land route. And for some reason they had bright yellow rubber chickens stuck to their heads.

The sight was bewildering enough to make me instantly forget about the pretty boy. “What the hell are you guys wearing?” I asked as they walked onto the beach.

DJ hung his head while the girl looked away, both clearly ashamed.

“We chickened out,” DJ said. “So Chris gave us chicken hats.”

“I see,” I said, taking a second look at their headwear. Now that I looked closer, it did indeed appear that the rubber chickens had openings at the bottom to let people wear them as hats. “Why?”

“I can’t jump that, man!” DJ exclaimed, suddenly waving his arms in the air in the general direction of the cliff. “Do you see that cliff?!”

“Yeah, and I jumped it, too,” I said, rolling my eyes. Then I smirked as something occurred to me. “I guess in this case, black men can’t jump.”

As DJ groaned and buried his face in his hands – whether in shame or because of the bad joke – I turned to the girl. “So what’s your excuse?”

She immediately began sputtering. “Wha- I’m not going to risk life and limb when we’re going to win the challenge anyway!”

I gave her a quizzical look. “We are?”

Yes! Did you see the other team? There’s no way they’re all going to jump!”

“They don’t have to; if only one of them chickens out, you guys cost us the win. And I’m pretty sure some of them got thrown off by their teammates, so there’s that.”

A look of uncertainty passed over the girl’s face. “Oh… well…”

I shrugged. “Eh, it’s no big.”

“It’s not?” DJ asked, looking up from his hands while the girl blinked in surprise.

“It’s a three-part challenge,” I said. “As long as we win the other parts, it’s okay.”

“Hey, yeah, that’s right!” the girl said, looking more cheerful by the minute. “We can still do this!”

“Right. Just don’t mess up again and we’ll be fine. Maybe.”

“Yeah, we- Wait, what do you mean by ‘maybe’?”

“Hey, you two screwed up this part, others might screw up other parts. There are no guarantees, yeah?”

There was a moment of silence as we all looked at each other, and then the girl spoke.

“No offense, but motivational speeches aren’t your strong suit.”

“Yeah, well…” I trailed off, not sure how to finish the sentence. “I was never much of a speaker,” I said finally, lamely.

The pair of them chuckled at that.

“Hey, it’s alright, man,” DJ said, giving me a pat on the back. “Thanks for trying.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Hey, um… I was wondering something,” the girl said as DJ walked away to join the rest of the team.

I turned, giving her a quirked eyebrow. “What?”

“About your, um… And I hope this isn’t too personal or anything, but… your scars.”

“What about ‘em?” I asked lightly, glancing down at myself. As a cartoon character, my scars stood out more against my skin than they did before, and most of them were clearly visible now that I only had swimming trunks on.

“How did you get them?”

“Oh, is that all? Let’s see…” One by one, I pointed at my scars. “Surgery, surgery, construction accident, sword, axe-”

You took an axe to the head?!” she asked, her eyes fairly bugging out as she stared at the small, thin scar on my forehead.

“Hey, it wasn’t that bad. It didn’t even cut all the way through the bone,” I said, chuckling. “My brain are good.”

“You- But, you-” She paused, swallowed, then tried again. “Why?”

“Let’s just say I’ve lived some interesting times,” I said, giving her a wink. “Anyway, the next one is-” I cut myself off upon noticing movement out of the corner of my eye, and I turned to see people were once more jumping off the cliff. “Oh, looks like they’re almost done.”

I walked closer to the edge of the beach for a better look, just in time to see Owen jump off the cliff. He hit the water belly-first, and his admittedly fairly vast bulk inexplicably created what amounted to a small tsunami that quickly swept toward the beach… and even carried along the boat that had been carrying people ashore.

Fucking cartoon physics, man, I thought as I dimly noted the girl walking up next to me.

“Um, also, about your tatt-”

And then the water swept over us, cutting off whatever she was going to say.

It was odd, in a way; despite knowing fully well this was a cartoon – the visual appearance of, well, everything, was a testament to that – I was still taken aback every time something happened that would have made no fucking sense in my own world, like a single overweight boy creating a tsunami just by belly-landing in the water. Clearly, I still needed to adjust my headspace, as it were. On the bright side, I’d at least found out why the Hispanic girl kept glancing at me before; she wasn’t used to people with scars, was all.

Such were my thoughts as I climbed down from the tree I’d found myself in following Owen’s makeshift tsunami, doing my best to ignore the shark clinging to the next tree over.

The second part of the challenge awaited.



After we’d changed back into our regular clothes, the challenge continued with its second part: hauling crates along the beach back to the camp. And it wasn’t quick and easy, either; there were four crates in all, and they were fairly hefty.

True, some of us – including myself – were strong enough to lift and carry a crate each for short distances, but others most definitely weren’t, and the pace was unfortunately set by the slowpokes.

“Ouch! I think I just got a splinter.”

Like the Hispanic girl. She looked fit enough, but she was fairly light on muscle, and wasn’t making much headway with pushing one of the crates.

“Shut up and pick up your crate,” Eva said, having apparently had enough. She picked the crate up over her head then dropped it back down, kicking up a small cloud of sand. She fixed the Hispanic girl with a glare. “Chicken.”

“Hey, I’m the only one with CIT camping experience here. You need me!”

I cocked my head at that. “What’s CIT?”

“Counselor In Training,” the Hispanic girl replied, turning to me. “Like a summer camp counselor, but a trainee.”

“Oh,” I said, nodding. After spending a moment thinking about this, I added, “How’s that gonna help with the crates?”

She hesitated. “Uh, well…”

“It’s not gonna help at all,” Eva spoke up, sending another glare at the girl. “She’s useless. Come on, let’s pick up the pace. The Gophers are way ahead of us.”

It was true; as their reward for winning the first part of the challenge with only a single “chicken” to our two, the Screaming Gophers had received wooden carts to help haul their crates. They were so far ahead of us they would probably be halfway done with the third part before we even reached camp.

It was kind of a bummer.

“Ugh, I gotta take a whiz,” Tyler spoke suddenly, putting down his crate. The quickest way forward was exactly that: Tyler, DJ, Eva, Geoff and myself taking turns picking up and carrying a crate each for a bit before putting them back down to avoid straining ourselves, and the others trying in vain to push the crates forward while we rested. I had actually wanted us to just concentrate on carrying one crate at a time then running back for the next one, but when I suggested it earlier Chris had said it was against the rules, for some reason, so we were stuck doing this snail’s pace.

“Well, hurry up,” Eva complained, “We’re already behind.”

“Oh, I have to go, too,” Skinny Cry-baby said suddenly.

“You do? Oh my gosh, me too!” Not-So-Skinny Cry-baby chimed in.

I sighed as Tyler and the two cry-babies went off into the woods to do their business. At this pace, we were gonna lose for sure.

“Ouch! I think something just bit me.”

And the bad news just kept coming. I turned again, seeing the Hispanic girl rubbing her right eye. When she lowered her hand I saw the area around her eye was already swelling up in an angry red.

“Uh, you’re not allergic or anything, are you?” I asked hesitantly.

“Only to pollen,” she replied. “Is it bad?”

“Kinda. Hold still,” I said as I leaned in closer.

“Hey, wait-”

“Oh, wait, I think I see a stinger,” I said as I peered closely at the welt forming around her right eye. There was a tiny, tiny black stinger-like object stuck in the skin, and what’s more the object was attached to what looked like a tiny, pulsating sac; most likely some kind of venomous gland that was still pumping venom through the stinger. Very carefully, I grasped the offending object between the nails of my thumb and index finger and pulled. For a split-second it pulled on the skin before coming loose, and I flicked it away. “There.”

“Oh, um, thank you,” she said, giving me a small smile… that was only slightly marred by the angry red welt taking up a good portion of her face.

I decided not to mention it. “No worries. Now, let’s go get this challenge done, eh?”

“Yeah! Um, I’m Courtney, by the way.”

“Jason. Nice ta meetcha.”



Once Tyler and the girls returned, we continued on our way. We didn’t get very far before Chris rolled up on a 4-wheeler. Why he felt the need for a vehicle when camp was quite literally a few hundred meters away I had no idea.

“You guys are way behind the other team,” he said. “Like, way behind. What’s the problem?”

“Their butts are itchy,” Courtney said, gesturing to the two cry-babies who were, indeed, quite busy scratching their butts.

Come to think of it, they’d been doing that ever since their pee break. The hell was up with that?

Chris, turning in his seat to face Courtney, physically recoiled at the sight of her swollen eye. “Oh, my boxers, that’s bad!”

“Could’ve been worse,” I said, deciding to join the conversation as I was resting anyway. “At least I got the stinger out.”

At that moment, Bridgette walked up to the two cry-babies. “Did you guys squat down when you peed in the woods?”

“Yeah…” Skinny Cry-baby said slowly.

“Did you happen to notice what kind of plants you were squatting over?” Bridgette continued, and I groaned as I realized where she was going with that.

“They were kinda oval-shaped and green and all over the place,” Not-Skinny Cry-baby replied.

“Were they low to the ground? About this big?” the surfer girl asked. When the cry-babies both nodded, she said, “You guys squatted on poison ivy.”

“This is why I hate city folk,” I muttered as the cry-babies started panicking. At first they incoherently screamed, then decided to follow up with dragging their itchy asses on the sand. It was… a sight. “Five minutes in nature and they might as well be dead.”

“Hahahaha! No way! That’s awesome!

Chris, however, was more amused than anything, even laughing and pointing at the pair.

Honestly, if they weren’t on my team I probably would have done the same, so it wasn’t like I could fault him for it.

Still sucked for us, though.



By the time we finally reached camp, we discovered the Gophers were… actually not as far ahead as feared. Sure, they’d gotten all their crates open, but from the look of things they had only just gotten started on actually building the hot tub.

We might still have a chance!

“Alright, let’s get these crates open, pronto,” I said, turning to my team. They were all in various states of sitting or lying on the ground, exhausted from hauling the crates. Aside from myself and Eva, they all looked about ready to give up permanently. In most circumstances I would have balked at taking the leadership role, but there were stakes here, dammit!

Courtney raised her hand. “What about Katie and Sadie?”

I blinked. “Who?”

“The itchy girls.”

“Oh. Eh, they’ll get here when they get here,” I said, shrugging. The two cry-babies had begged to stay behind at the beach so they could cool their asses in the water, and frankly I didn’t miss them one bit. “Come on, let’s do this! We can still catch up!”

“Yeah! Now we’re talking!” Eva agreed, flexing and pumping her fist in the air.

“Right on!” Geoff agreed, standing up. “Let’s do this!”

Between all of us, it was fairly easy to get the crates open and empty their contents. There were boards, nails, tubes, pipes, tarp, tools and all sorts of stuff, all laid out in four uneven piles on the ground. We spent a bit more time getting everything sorted to make it easier to find what was what, then stepped back.

“Okay, that was fun, but now what?” Courtney asked, glancing over at the Gophers. “They’re still way ahead of us.”

I chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m Swedish.”

My teammates exchanged confused looks before turning back to me. Courtney, apparently being designated the unofficial spokesperson, asked the question that was likely on all their minds.

“What?”

“Let me put it this way: Do you have any idea how much Ikea furniture I’ve put together over the years?”

“Um-”

“Exactly. Now, stand back, I’m about to go Ingvar Kamprad on this bitch!”

“Again: what?

I sighed. “Just gimme the damn instructions, already.”



The campers are neck-and-neck!” Chris’s voice echoed across the camp, courtesy of the megaphone in his hand. At some point during the proceedings the host had decided to play sports commentator, and he was just as annoying as the real deal. “The Screaming Gophers had an early lead, but thanks to the carpentry efforts of Jason, the Killer Bass have closed the distance! Who knew being Norwegian could be so useful?!

“I’m Swedish, you ass!”

Oh, but the Gophers aren’t out of the competition yet!” Chris continued, either unheeding or uncaring of my complaints. “It may have shrunk, but they still have the lead! Can the power of teamwork overcome the power of cheap Swiss furniture making?!

Swedish, dammit!

Look at that, the Gophers are forming a bucket brigade to fill up their tub! Can the Bass catch up or will Jason be forced to swim back to the land of the polar bears in disgrace?!

“Is it against the rules to throw stuff at the host? I am dead serious. I have a hammer and I’m not afraid to use it.”

And the Gophers’ tub is full! Gophers win!

“DAMMIT!”



“These… are awesome hot tubs!” Chris declared after finishing his inspection of the hot tubs. Although the Gophers had completed theirs first we were allowed the time to fill ours up, too… and since I’d put the last nail in at the last second, ours was just as good as theirs. Well, on the outside, at least.

I really hoped nobody screwed anything up. Sure, I did the lion’s share of the work, but I had delegated some of the more straightforward stuff to the rest of the team, and there had been no time to double-check much of anything.

“However, there can only be one winner,” Chris paced back and forth between the teams as he spoke, a serious expression on his face. “Both tubs are functional, which was the goal of the challenge… but the Gophers finished theirs first, so they win!”

I sighed. I’d figured as much, but it was still disappointing to hear. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see DJ smiling down at me.

“Better luck next time,” he said, giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah… next time,” I agreed.

“Tonight, the Screaming Gophers are safe from elimination,” Chris continued. “They also get to rock their hot tub for the rest of summer! Actually, both teams do! Double bonus!”

There was a widespread cheer at that, but I didn’t bother joining in. Sure, having a hot tub was pretty cool, but I was still feeling miffed about losing.

“Killer Bass, what can I say, hot tub or not: sucks to be you right now. I’ll see your sorry butts at the bonfire tonight. Don’t be late!”

Well, crap.



A couple hours later the teams were seated at their respective tables in the main lodge. Dinnertime was winding down, and for those of us in the Killer Bass the conversation turned to the night’s campfire ceremony.

“So, uh, what do we do now?” asked… Katie? Sadie? One of the cry-babies. The skinnier one.

“We have to figure out who we’re gonna vote off,” Courtney said, and I was glad she was taking the lead; I wasn’t the best at… well, pretty much anything social, really.

“Well, I think it should be Princess,” Duncan said, flicking a thumb first at Courtney, then DJ, “or the brick-house here.”

Courtney was clearly taken aback by this. “What?! Why?”

“Because unless I’m mistaken, you two are the only ones here wearing chicken hats,” Duncan replied, prompting everyone to look at the fowl hats that still adorned DJ and Courtney’s heads. “And if we ever have to lift a truck… I like our odds with the big guy.”

“But you guys need me!” Courtney protested. “I’m the only one with-”

“We know,” Bridgette interrupted, rolling her eyes. “You used to be a real CIT. So who would you pick?”

Courtney looked around for a moment before settling her eyes on Tyler. “What about him?

Nooooo!

As one, both teams’ eyes went to the blonde in the Gophers’ team. Lindsay. Seeing everyone’s eyes on her, she promptly sat down.

“Uh, I mean, no salt. There’s no salt. On the table. Bummer.”

Huh. She really is crushing on the sports guy, huh? I mused, shaking my head before turning my attention back to the conversation at my table.

“Hey, at least he jumped off the cliff, chicken wing,” Duncan said, pointedly… pointing… at Courtney.

Shut up!

“Okay, let’s just chill out,” Geoff interjected soothingly as he got between Duncan and Courtney. “This is gettin’ way too heavy.”

“Eh, I’ve had enough prison food for one day,” Duncan said as he rose, making a show of pushing away his half-empty bowl of slop. “I’m gonna go have a nap.”

“Y-you can’t do that! Courtney protested. “We haven’t decided who’s going yet!”

“I don’t think he cares,” I pointed out as Duncan left the lodge.

Courtney turned to me. “Well, who would you pick?”

I blinked. “Me? Well…” I swept my gaze over my teammates, pondering. Eventually, it settled on the two cry-babies. “Those two were the most useless today.”

“What? You can’t mean that!” the skinny one said, aghast.

“Yeah! You can’t mean it!” the fat one agreed.

“You spent most of the competition cooling your asses in the drink,” I said flatly.

“Hey, yeah, that’s right,” Eva said, her voice rising dangerously as she looked over at the wonder twins. “Those two didn’t contribute at all.”

““B-b-b-b-b-b-b-b-but-!”” the two girls stammered in unison. Their hands were clasped together and their cheeks mushed together like… something you mush together. Mashed potatoes?

“Now hold on, we shouldn’t just turn on each other,” DJ interjected, drawing everyone’s eyes to him. “It’s settled by vote, right? So we should just vote. Whatever happens, happens.”

I shrugged. “Fair enough.”



That night we had our very first campfire ceremony. It was a pretty cozy deal, not gonna lie; the campfire itself was nice and warm, and we were all sitting on stumps on one side of it while Chris stood on the other, facing us while holding a plate full of marshmallows. Behind and beyond him were lit tiki torches set up leading down to the dock, where a boat awaited whoever got voted off.

It would have been cozier if there weren’t teams of cameramen all over the place.

“Killer Bass,” Chris said aloud, beginning the ceremony. “At camp, marshmallows represent a tasty treat that you enjoy roasting by the fire. At this camp… marshmallows represent life.”

Figures they’d make it dramatic for the cameras, I thought, rolling my eyes.

The host continued on, explaining exactly how things were going to go down. “You’ve all cast your votes and made your decision. There are only ten marshmallows on this plate. When I call your name, come up, and claim your marshmallow. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow tonight must immediately return to the Dock of Shame to catch the Boat of Losers. That means you’re out of the contest. And you can’t come back. Ever!

I betcha they’re gonna edit in a drum roll or something there.

“The first marshmallow goes to… Geoff.”

One by one, we had our names called and went up to claim our marshmallow. Presumably, we went in an ascending order based on who got the most votes; I was third to claim mine.

At the last, the only ones who remained without marshmallows were Katie and Sadie. Chris did a bunch of long, needlessly dramatic posing and apparent pondering before finally pointing at…

“Sadie.”

She did not rise, however, as her arms were entangled tight with Katie’s.

“No! I can’t let Katie go!” Sadie said, teary-eyed. “Why her?!”

“Yeah, and I can’t leave Sadie behind!” Katie chimed in, equally teary-eyed. “It’s so unfair!”

“I so can’t do this! I’ve never been anywhere without Katie! We have to be together or I’ll totally die!

“Can we just get this over with?” I asked aloud from where I was roasting marshmallows along with everyone who had already received one. “I wanna eat my marshmallow already.”

“Hey, that’s not nice!” Bridgette chided me.

“Not trying to be,” I muttered. “I’m hungry.”

“Amen to that,” Duncan agreed.

“Be quiet, both of you! You’re being disrespectful!” Courtney hissed, prompting us both to roll our eyes at her.

At that point, Katie disentangled herself from her friend’s embrace and held her at arm’s length. “Sadie, listen to me,” she said, her voice the most serious I had ever heard it. “You can do this. You are strong and beautiful and like, maybe even smarter than me. Plus, you’re, like, the funnest girl I know! You have to do it for both of us!”

“O-okay!”

“Aren’t they gonna see each other as soon as the other one gets voted off?” I asked quietly as the cry-fest continued unabated. “I mean, it’s not like they’re never gonna- Alright, alright, I’m shutting up. Touchy.”

With that, the campfire ceremony was over, and we were one team member less. Would it matter? Time would tell.

I bit into my marshmallow and immediately burnt my tongue.

Typical.



Ah, so this is the ‘confessional’, huh? Well…”

Jason seated himself, facing the camera. By all appearances the confessional was little more than an outhouse, and there were several flies flying around, though the newcomer seemed to pay them no mind. He adjusted his unruly hair slightly and took a deep breath, then spoke.


Okay, I’ll be honest: I don’t regret voting for Katie at all. She and Sadie were definitely the most useless members today, and since we lost… well, it makes sense, right? To be fair, I could just as well have voted for Sadie; it was pretty fifty-fifty.

As for the rest of the team… Well, we all have our strengths and weaknesses. Hopefully there’ll be more of the former, but we’ll see. I know I have plenty of both.

Also, I only took the leader role today because I knew what I was doing. I prefer working on my own, you know? I’m not against teamwork, but I’m not really good at it. I’m a loner. If the next challenge isn’t something I’m good at, I’ll just step back and try to stay out of everyone’s way.”

He then scowled as though suddenly remembering something unpleasant.


Also, I’m Swedish, dammit! I’m not Swiss, I’m not Norwegian, and I’m not from the fucking North Pole!”



End Chapter 2



The roster

The Screaming Gophers: Gwen, Trent, Heather, Cody, Lindsay, Beth, Izzy, Owen, Leshawna, Justin, Noah

The Killer Bass: Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Tyler, Sadie, Katie, Courtney, Jason, Duncan, Eva, and Harold
 
Last edited:

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
If you're talking about the sharks, I vaguely recall it being stated at some point that they were imported freshwater sharks from... somewhere. I might be misremembering though, as it's been a few years since I watched the show in its entirety.

On another note, what are your guys' impressions of the chapters so far? In terms of who/what they focus on, descriptions, etc. I mean, in my efforts to get dialogues done right I'm watching and re-watching the episodes in segments, so I'm a little concerned I might be missing out on describing or adding things simply because they appear obvious in my mind from re-watching so many times. Is there anything in the story so far that seems nonsensical or is hard to follow along with, is what I'm asking.

Edit: Oh, and just general impressions of where the story is going would be appreciated as well. Anything that seems out of place or any particular characters or interactions that you like or dislike?
 

Bear Ribs

Well-known member
Edit: Oh, and just general impressions of where the story is going would be appreciated as well. Anything that seems out of place or any particular characters or interactions that you like or dislike?
Well right now it's still hewing closer to canon than I'd like. Even very specific things like Sadie and Katie squatting in poison ivy are happening right on schedule (I think the beesting was new). For me that's usually the worst part of the story as it's boring, I already know what's happening and there aren't any twists to keep my attention.

I hope the butterflies start building up from here though, Ezekiel's skills are unknown since he was eliminated for making a sexist remark (and according to Chris, picking his nose on camera) rather than not being able to contribute and Sadie and Katie were deadweight. With half of them gone and a person with some useful skills remaining instead the Killer Bass are probably going to make a better showing and the results of some challenges might change.
 

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
Yeah, that sounds about right. The butterflies will indeed build up with every chapter, especially as the SI gets more personally involved with events (like he did with the third part of the challenge in this chapter), though in the case of some challenges he won't have the skills and/or mindset to contribute overmuch, and so those are likely to go closer to how they did in canon... with some exceptions, obviously, as the eliminations are already starting to go down differently. If a particular challenge was won thanks to one specific character in canon, and that character has already been eliminated by the time this story reaches that point, then obviously things'll go down differently.

I am deliberately re-watching only one episode at a time (and occasionally looking things up on the TD wiki) so as to keep from getting ahead of myself, story-wise, and instead allowing things to develop "naturally", kinda like a what-if scenario. This is part of the reason why it hasn't veered too far off from canon as of yet, but rest assured canon will be (largely) left behind with time.
 

Mrsean22

Well-known member
Just finished reading. Pretty good so far and the way characters are acting makes sense.

Making some friends on the team like Courtney and DJ by trying to cheer them up from not jumping and kinda saving Courtney from being voted off(not sure if she sees it like that). Him and Duncan seem to get along but that doesn't really mean they are friends or allies yet. Eve seems to at least respect him and willing to listen to what he says.

Everyone else is kinda a tossup for me. Jason has shown he is pretty useful from this challenge. Looking forward to more.
 
Chapter 3: Lights Out

JasonSanjo

Your Overlord and Jester
I Don’t Wanna Be Famous

A Total Drama SI story

Disclaimer: Total Drama belongs to Fresh TV Inc. I’m simply borrowing it to tell some stories.

Author’s Notes: O-K, my sister was supposed to drop by for a visit, but rescheduled at the last second, so… I suddenly had the whole evening free. So I ended up finishing this chapter early. Oh, and in case it's not obvious from context: the incoherence in this chapter is very much intentional. Enjoy!



Chapter 3: Lights Out

I awoke to the sound of birds chirping outside my window. Yawning, I sat up in bed and scratched myself, then stood up… only to find myself falling when my feet failed to find the floor. My face was not so lucky.

Groaning, I picked myself up off the floor and looked around the mostly dark room while doing my best to ignore the fresh stinging sensation coming from the right side of my face. There were eight bunk beds along two walls, four of them empty, the rest featuring a person each sleeping peacefully, apparently undisturbed by the noise created by my impromptu face-to-wood meeting with the floor. I myself had apparently been sleeping top bunk, to the left of the one window in the wall opposite the door. After a couple seconds of silent staring, my brain finally caught up.

Oh, right. Reality show. Camp Wawanakwa.

I rubbed my temples and took a deep breath to give my apparently oxygen-starved brain some more juice, then stood up.

Okay, bathroom, bathroom… Right, there’s a communal bathroom.

I quietly exited the cabin, making sure not to disturb my sleeping teammates. Once outside I looked around the camp. It was still fairly dark out, but the sun was beginning to creep over the low mountains off to the east, beyond the lake.

There were two cabins, including the one I had just come from, each divided into two halves – one for the boys and one for the girls. Each cabin belonged to one of the teams, either my own Killer Bass or our opposite number the Screaming Gophers.

Opposite from the two cabins was the considerably larger main lodge, where we ate and had meetings. A ways to the side of the main camp area was the squat building housing the communal bathrooms, which also happened to be my most immediate objective.

Luckily, it seemed I had awakened before anyone else, for I found the bathroom devoid of other people. There was a row of toilet stalls along one side, and next to them a row of shower stalls with naught but a shower curtain to cut them off from the rest of the communal bathroom; accordingly, there was a schedule on the door detailing the shower times for boys and girls, respectively, when the other gender was supposed to stay away.

Not that it mattered right now, of course, since nobody else was awake and I wasn’t going to shower, anyway, since I’d taken a bath in the hot tub the previous night.

I took my time finishing my business in one of the stalls then washed up and brushed my teeth before exiting the building. Looking around the camp, there was still no sign of anyone else being awake.

What to do…?

I looked to the lake. Taking a morning dip did have its appeal… but then I’d have to go back to the cabin to get my trunks and a towel and in the process risk waking up my teammates.

I looked back toward the camp, and the forest beyond. Perhaps it was time to explore the area a bit? I’d been wanting to for days, but between swimming in the lake and hanging out with the other campers – and trying to not hang out with the other campers – I had only gone on shorter jaunts into the woods.

How big is this island, anyway?



Walking in the forest felt soothing and invigorating at the same time; soothing because the only noise came from the wind rustling through the trees, the chirping of birds and the occasional scurrying of squirrels and other small animals, and invigorating because of the cool, fresh air and all the new sights to see.

I loved the forest. It had been my refuge since I was a child, the place to go to get away from… well, everything. It was a gross understatement to say that much of my life had been unpleasant, but the forest was always there for me, and exploring a new one was always intriguing.

Of course, there was the small matter of my terrible sense of direction and my tendency to get lost in thought exacerbating the problem, and it wasn’t long before I realized that I had no idea where I was in relation to camp.

I came to a stop. I had long since left the main trail to explore some of the smaller animal trails, but if I retraced my steps...

Yes, I definitely came from that direction, over there. So the main trail should be… right, beyond that hill. And then camp… Hmm.

Did I go left or right when I first left the main trail? I hadn’t really been paying attention. I looked up toward the sun, trying to remember its position in the sky when I left camp.

Can’t have been more than an hour or so… So that’s east over there, and… Was the forest north or south of camp?

Well, this was a problem. Not getting lost in the woods per se – I was more than used to that – but rather finding my way back to camp in time for breakfast. I was getting a bit peckish, and although the gruel they served for most meals wasn’t exactly quality food it was still edible and seemed to be reasonably nutritious. Lots of fiber, at any rate.

Eh, guess I’ll just go straight until I hit the coast, then follow that. The island can’t be that big, can it?



It turned out it wasn’t. Either that or I just happened to luck into picking the closest direction back to camp. In any case, I found myself approaching camp in time to hear a loud honking noise coming from somewhere within. Feeling a bit nonplussed by this, I hurried my steps...and entered the camp proper in time to catch the tail-end of some angry shouting courtesy of Leshawna, who was peeking out of the Gophers’ cabin window dressed in what looked like some kind of purple negligee.

-like a farmer to you?!

“Not in that get-up,” I heard Chris reply with laughter. Steering my steps in that direction, I rounded the main lodge to see the host standing with his back to me, holding his signature megaphone and what looked like one of those small, portable air horns. That would explain the honking.

“Yo,” I greeted as I approached.

Holy-!” The host whirled around to face me, a hand over his heart. “Where’d you come from?!”

“My parents, I’m pretty sure,” I answered. Then I hummed thoughtfully. “Unless I’m a clone or something… But that would also require implanted memories, and I dunno if-”

“No, I mean, why aren’t you in your cabin?”

“Oh, that. I went for a morning walk. Just got back, heard a weird honking, walked over here.”

I wasn’t sure the host accepted my explanation, because he gave me a weird, inquiring look, like he was trying to discern whether I was having him on or not. Eventually he just shrugged.

“Whatever. Go form up with everyone else and we’ll get this show on the road.”

“Alrighty.”



Some twenty minutes later we were all gathered in the middle of camp, waiting to get started.

“Morning! Hope you slept well,” Chris greeted us cheerily.

“Well enough,” I replied with a shrug. I had already been up for several hours at that point, and was probably the only one among the campers who didn’t look recently-awakened.

“Good morning, Chris,” Heather said, “You look really buff in those shorts.”

“I know,” Chris returned, winking.

That… was a weird exchange of morning greetings. Was it a Canadian thing?

The host walked on down the line of campers as he continued, “Okay, I hope you’re all ready because your next challenge begins in exactly one minute!”

“Oh, excuse me,” Owen said, waving his hand in the air for attention, “I don’t know if that’s enough time to eat breakfast.”

I snorted and shook my head. It figured that he’d be the first to voice concerns over food, didn’t it? And not just because of his bulk, either; in the brief three days or so that had passed since the last challenge he’d proven himself to be rather gluttonous, being the only one to ask for seconds or even thirds of Chef Hatchet’s rather dubious food.

“Oh, you’ll get breakfast, Owen… right after you complete your 20-kilometer run around the lake!”

“Oh, so you’re funny now,” Eva said, her voice betraying her sudden ill intent… almost as well as the fist she raised as she approached Chris. “Do you know what I think would be funny?”

“Easy, now,” I said as I stepped between them, holding up a hand to halt the girl’s advance. “He’s an asshole, but at least hear him out.”

“Out of my way, Jason, or-”

“Eva!” Courtney hissed in her ear. “Try to control your temper!”

The gym girl glanced at Courtney before looking past me toward Chris. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?!”

“A little,” Chris said in a tone that said he enjoyed it far more than just a little. I looked over my shoulder to see him point at his watch. “You have thirty seconds.”

Eva growled.

“Come on, let’s just get this over with,” I said to her. We locked eyes for a moment before she sighed begrudgingly.

Fine.”

Behind me, I heard Chris snicker. To be honest, the guy reminded me of myself. Not so much in physical appearance, but mannerisms. He was basically a wimpier, more extroverted version of me.

And because I knew me, that made me feel rather concerned for our future on this island.

He’s planning something beyond the run. It’s what I would do…



The run ended up not being as terrible as I expected. We were allowed to set our own pace, and the only rule was that we all had to make it to the end to finish the challenge. Presumably there was a bonus waiting for whichever team finished it first, but since I couldn’t really get my teammates to just spontaneously develop more stamina I didn’t bother thinking about it too much, instead setting off at a casual jog along the path.

Since there weren’t any diverging paths anywhere along the route, I didn’t get lost this time around, and despite taking it easy the whole way I ended up coming in second, right after Eva.

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked when I entered the main lodge, which had been designated as our goal.

“I dunno. Somewhere,” I said casually as I sat down in my usual spot. We didn’t really have any official seating arrangements or anything, but I was a creature of habit when it came to such things.

The gym girl tsked and crossed her arms.

“So what’s up with you? I haven’t asked.”

She shot me a puzzled look. “What?”

“The temper. Why?”

“I…” She looked away. “I have aggressions.”

“I noticed,” I said dryly. “Courtney told me you broke the lock on one of bathroom stalls this morning.”

“That was an accident.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Who the hell are you to talk about temper?” Eva asked suddenly, slamming her fist down on the table. “You were talking about hitting Chris with a hammer the other day!”

“Yeah, but I was only talking about it,” I replied. “I get my aggressions out with words more often than not. I don’t go in swinging just because someone woke me up too early.”

You- Ugh, whatever.” Eva looked away while resting her chin in her palm.

Well, she sure as hell wasn’t in a talking mood. Oh, well, as long as she didn’t actually act on her impulses it probably wouldn’t affect the competition, so…

I leaned back, closing my eyes. Since we had to wait anyway I might as well relax.

A few minutes later we were joined by Geoff and then Duncan and after that Bridgette and Courtney; it seemed our team had a considerable advantage in terms of overall physical fitness compared to the Gophers. The first Gopher to arrive – Justin, the pretty boy – was the seventh camper overall to reach the goal. He was quickly followed by Izzy, and thereafter campers from both teams gradually trickled in until at long last the only one we were missing was Harold.

Who unfortunately was on our team. When the boy finally arrived he was gasping and barely standing up.

“What took you so long?!” Courtney asked, meeting him at the door. “We just lost the challenge because of you!”

“I… I think I’m having heart palpitations,” Harold ground out in reply.

I rolled my eyes. Considering how much time he’d spent – and what his average speed had to have been as a result – it was unlikely his heart was going through any effort at all. If anything, he was probably being dramatic, like Noah – the Gophers’ token smartypants – who’d arrived minutes earlier being carried by Owen. Even now Owen was giving the other boy chest compressions on the table for no reason; I’d checked Noah’s pulse and breath the moment Owen put him down on the table and found him to be perfectly fine. I’d even said as much, but that didn’t stop them.

Fucking teenagers and their ridiculous melodrama…

Sure, technically, I was a teenager as well, courtesy of ROB, but that didn’t mean I had to act like one.

“Hey, wait a minute,” Gwen spoke up, “if they lost, then that means we won the challenge!”

The Gophers cheered… including the up until that moment “unconscious” Noah.

I fucking called it!

“Whoa, there, hold your horses,” Chris interjected. He walked up to the center of the lodge to address us. “Guys, that wasn’t the challenge.”

Called that, too. Sorta.

“What did you say?” Gwen asked, one eye twitching slightly in irritation.

Ignoring her, Chris walked up to to a curtain that was for some reason covering one side of the lodge. He made a show of gesturing toward it and asked, “Who’s hungry?”

At his words the curtain parted to reveal a table laden with an impressive amount of food, the centerpiece of which was a massive cooked turkey. Surrounding it on all sides were pots and pans filled with all manner of dishes, and the draft from the curtains parting caused the smells to wash over us like wind across a meadow.

The hunger that I’d been ignoring up until that point returned full-force, even bringing reinforcements in the form of a loud, cartoonish growl emanating from within the depths of my stomach.

Chris chuckled. “Dig in, campers.”

We did. We most certainly did.



After we finished devouring everything on the table, Chris jumped onto it, megaphone in hand.

Alright, campers! Time for part two of your challenge.

“Here we go,” I said with a groan. I hadn’t stuffed myself quite as badly as some of the campers, but I’d definitely eaten more than my fill. Hopefully the challenge didn’t involve moving around too much.

“I thought eating was the second part,” Owen said, his mouth still full of half-eaten food.

“What more do you want from us?!” Gwen asked in exasperation.

“Weird Goth Girl is right,” Heather agreed, her voice terse. “Haven’t we been through enough?”

Wow, that’s a stupid question.

Um, let me think about that,” Chris said. “No!

Like, seriously, I mused, studying the host, is Chris my alternate-universe counterpart or something? He doesn’t look like me, but…

It’s time for… the Awake-a-thon!

Owen blinked. “The what-a-thon?”

Don’t worry,” Chris said, jumping off the table, “this is an easy one! The team with the last camper standing wins invincibility.

“So, what, we gotta stay awake for as long as we can?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow at the host.

Yup!

“After doing a 20k run and stuffing our faces with food to make it harder for us to stay awake?”

That’s right, Jason!

“… We’re not related, are we? I feel like we might be related.”

Not to my knowledge! Now, come on, campers! It’s time to Awake-a-thon it up! Move, move, move!

I groaned and stood up. “Fine, let’s get this over with…”



Hours later, we were all sitting on stumps around the bonfire, grouped according to our teams, and had been for some time. It was still light out, but the sun was starting to go down, and though tired all of us were still awake.

“We are now twelve hours in with all twenty-one campers still wide awake,” Chris narrated softly, no doubt in an effort to make us even sleepier. “Except for Jason, who for some godawful reason got up three hours earlier than everyone else and is now suffering for it.”

I raised my head to shoot the host a deadpan stare. “Fuck. Off.”

Owen was far more enthused than I was, and had been spending the last half-hour jumping from foot to foot in his efforts to remain awake. I was actually a little impressed with his stamina, considering his bulk. “Staying awake for twelve hours? I can do that in my sleep! Woo-hoo!” He pumped his fist into the air, then suddenly froze. A few seconds passed and then he fell over like a tree, the ground shaking under our feet with the impact.

“One down,” I said with a sigh. I gave Chris a pleading look. “Look, we’ve got a night owl, they’ve got a night owl,” I said, indicating first Duncan then Gwen. “Can’t we just do a duel of the champions type deal and have them go at it while the rest of us go to sleep?”

“I’m up for it if you are,” Duncan said aloud, looking over at Gwen, who just snorted in amusement and wordlessly shook her head. The black-haired boy sitting next to her, Trent, said something that made her giggle, though I couldn’t make out what.

The pair of them had been talking for a while, I idly noted. Maybe they had a thing going?

Chris turned to me, then, looking unhappy. “Nobody wins until there is only one camper left standing, Jason.”

“Fine,” I said, sighing again. After a moment spent pondering things, I added, “What if I knock out the other team?”

No! Stop trying to cheese the challenge, brah!”

“Meh. Whatever, ‘brah’.”

This was going to be a long day.



Hours later, in the middle of the night, a number of campers had already fallen asleep.

Aside from Owen, the Gophers had lost both Izzy and Noah, and Cody – noteworthy for being the shortest guy on the island – looked about ready to drop, as well.

We of the Killer Bass, meanwhile, had lost Bridgette and Sadie, the latter crying herself to sleep while wailing about her friend Katie. I was both glad and annoyed that she had fallen asleep; on the one hand, it meant I no longer had to listen to her wailing. On the other, it meant that said wailing wasn’t helping me stay awake anymore.

For the past couple hours, I had been standing, facing off against Justin, who mirrored my stance on the Gophers’ side of the bonfire. The guy hadn’t blinked in over an hour; it was frankly a little disconcerting. Still, I wasn’t about to let some damn pretty boy beat me! This was a matter of principle! Of honor! Of-

I nodded off, but immediately jolted awake when I started to fall forward. I shook myself, took a deep breath and refocused my gaze on my opponent.

You’re not beating me, you handsome bastard!

Suddenly, I heard a scream behind me, and I half-turned to see Tyler screaming his head off. I stared at him for several seconds even after he stopped screaming and sat down.

The hell was that abou-

“Congratulations, campers!” Chris called out then, prompting me to focus on him, instead. “You’ve made it to the 24-hour mark!”

I raised my head and looked up at the sky. There was a full Moon up there. If it had been 24 hours, then… No, wait. Didn’t they start counting at seven in the morning? How could- No. No, that made no sense.

I yawned and massaged my temples. I didn’t mishear him, did I? How long had I been awake?

“It’s time to take things up a notch,” the host continued and pulled away a blanket to reveal a pile of books. “Fairy tales!”

As if that wasn’t bad enough, Chef Hatchet – wearing what appeared to be a pink sheep costume – walked up carrying a harp.

I slowly blinked. I wasn’t dreaming, was I?

As I pondered this possibility, Chris picked a book from the pile and cleared his throat. As he did so, Chef Hatchet strummed a slow, sleepy tune on his harp. The host spoke. “Once… upon a time… there was… inside this boring kingdom… a boring village… And inside this boring, sleepy village… filled with very boring children, who did very boring things…”

I tuned him out, turning my gaze upward once more to stare at the Moon.

That was a weird thing about cartoons; the Moon was always way, way bigger than it was in the real world. Or maybe it was closer to Earth. Either way, it looked way bigger.

It was kind of nice, actually.

I’m not sure how long I was staring at the Moon, but I stopped when the music changed. I looked back down, and at first I could only see a dimly-lit figure moving back and forth before my eyes adjusted to the relative darkness.

It was Chef Hatchet… wearing a pink tutu. And he was dancing ballet. And the music was… Swan Lake? No, the Nutcracker. The… Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy? Yes, I remembered that one.

… Why was Chef Hatchet performing the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy?

Is this a dream…?

There was a crash, then, and I turned around to see that a tree had fallen over, with DJ tied to it. Why was DJ tied to a tree?

My mind was getting more muddled by the minute.



Fuuuuuck yooouuuuu preeeetty boooooooy…!

Justin wasn’t moving. He just stood there, hands on his hips, staring at me with that smug grin on his face, his eyes unblinking, his stance unwavering. His spirit was strong, but mine was stronger!

Fuuuuuuuuuuck yooooouuuuuuu…!

I grit my teeth and drew back a breath. I wouldn’t let him beat me! There was no way I would lose against a- There was something moving behind him. Something big. And pale.

I blinked.

Was that… Owen?

I blinked again.

Was he nude?

I blinked a third time.

Was he walking off into the woods?

I watched, nonplussed, as the heavyset boy disappeared between the trees. Once he was fully out of sight my gaze drifted back to Justin… who was still staring at me with that smug, condescending grin.

I growled.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck yoooouuuuuu…!



Many hours – or perhaps minutes – later my staring contest was rudely interrupted by someone moving in-between myself and my enemy.

“Look at him: he’s like a statue!” a feminine voice said. The speaker had their back to me, but the hair was… blue? Goth Girl? Gwen? Yes, Gwen. Gwen was the name. “He hasn’t moved in over fifty hours!”

I slowly blinked. Fifty hours? Looking up, I saw the Moon hanging in the sky. Did… did I go into a trance and miss a day? What?

“Hello? Hello!” “Yip? Yip! Yip-yip-yip-yip!”

I looked down again. Blue hair- Gwen. Gwen and… boy. Trent. Gwen and Trent were waving their arms and making noises, trying to catch my enemy’s attention, but his gaze remained fixed on me.

I bared my teeth and met his gaze again. I would not lose! I would not-

“Amazing. Look at the concentration,” Gwen said… then poked my enemy’s cheek. He closed his eyes upward, opening them and causing the Goth girl to gasp.

Wait, what?

“His eyelids are painted! I saw it!” I heard a voice say from somewhere. It was female. And angry. Angry female… Mom? No… Eva?

“Shut up!” another voice, male, exclaimed in disbelief. “Oh, I gotta see this!”

A moment later Chris ran into my field of view, stopping next to my enemy. He looked at him closely, my enemy giving a nervous grin.

“That is so freaking cool!” Chris said, impressed. Then he added, “But you’re still out, dude.”

My enemy’s shoulders slumped in defeat. He was beaten.

I beeeeaaaatt yooooouuuu, yoooouuuuu bastaaaaa-

And then everything went black.



A voice broke through the darkness.

“What is the matter with you people? Come on, fall asleep already!

“I’m awake!” I exclaimed, sitting up. Wait, sitting up? I blinked and looked upward, finding Chris standing before me holding a cup of what smelled like coffee. I always liked that smell. Never liked the taste. Awful, awful taste. Where was I?

“Nah, man, you’ve been asleep for a while,” Chris said, looking down at me. “Good effort, though.”

I slowly blinked as the host turned his back on me to face Gwen, who was pulling on his pants leg.

“You gotta hook me up, man!” the Goth girl pleaded, reaching for the coffee. “I’ll even eat the grinds! Anything!”

“Alright, you five stay with me,” Chris said, looking at the… one, two… three… four… five people gathering around him. Gwen. Trent. Heather. Duncan. Eva. Yes, those were the names. “The rest of you go and get a shower for heaven’s sake! You stink!”

Shower. Yes. That sounded good.

I stood up. A little shakily, I’ll admit. So, so tired… A shower would be nice…

As I walked toward the communal bathroom, I tried to piece together the events of… however many days had passed. Two? Three?

Running. Eating. The Awake-a-thon. Fairy tales. Pink sheep. Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy. Justin. Cheating.

I blinked as the events coalesced inside my mind and my lips parted in what I could only assume was a manic grin. I beat him! I beat the fucking, cheating, pretty-boy bastard!

Take that, asshole!



I went to the bathroom. I showered. Then I went straight to bed.

… But I couldn’t sleep. It was the middle of the day, even if the door was closed and the blinds were down. Too bright. Plus my internal clock told me it was awake time. Hours passed, but sleep wouldn’t come.

So… tired…

There was noise, then. From outside. Crashing and yelling.

I let out an irritated groan and sat up. Pulling on my shirt and pants, I exited the cabin to see what the noise was about. I saw… a pile of stuff. A canoe. A mattress. A ski. An oar. Balls, books, all sorts of things. And next to the pile…

The Killer Bass. Most of them. Courtney, Harold, DJ, Bridgette, Tyler. Standing outside the cabin, staring at… the cabin?

I turned, just in time to get clocked in the head by an unidentified flying object. I staggered sideways, fighting to retain my balance even as my body screamed at me to lie down and sleep.

I righted myself.

Where… is… my mp3 player?!

I frowned. That was… Eva. From inside the girls’ side of the cabin.

An old stereo and a tiny teddy bear flew past me, a moment before Eva appeared in the window next to the door. She looked angry. “One of you must have stolen it! I need my music! No one is going anywhere until I get my mp3 player back!”

I stared at her. “What?”

“Someone stole my mp3 player!” the gym girl said angrily.

I slowly blinked. “The fuck are you on about?”

She growled and disappeared into the cabin, only to reappear in the doorway. She stomped toward me, then grabbed me by the front of my shirt. “Someone. Stole. My. Mp3 player!

I looked down at her hand, then up at her face. “Let go of me. Now.”

Eva growled again and raised her other hand, her fingers curling into a fist. She punched.

I parried the strike with an open hand swipe, snaked my arm around hers, then twisted and turned, pulling her off-balance before I immediately twisted again and tossed her bodily through the air.

The gym girl let out a surprised shout as she spun uncontrollably through the air before landing flat on her back on the ground with a thud.

There was silence.

Courtney took a half-step forward. “Um, are you alri-”

Eva let out a loud growl, then, and got to her feet. Her face was contorted in an angry scowl, her teeth bared… and then she charged at me. I stepped down from the cabin steps and met her on the ground, stepping easily past her wild swing before slipping my arm under hers and putting my hand on her face and, twisting first clockwise then anticlockwise, using my accumulated momentum to send her flying back.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Eva was almost instantly back on her feet and charging again, letting out a roar as she did so. Deciding that enough was enough, I parried her swings while retreating backward… and once I reached the desired spot I sidestepped and grabbed her, twisting and tossing her forward… right into a tree.

There was a crash and then Eva staggered back one, two, three steps… and dropped like a sack of potatoes. She was still conscious, though groaning and with her eyes unfocused.

I glared down at her. “Allow me to make one thing clear, Eva,” I said to her as I crouched down low, to make sure she could hear me, “attack me, and I will defend myself. Do I make myself clear?”

“Uhhh… uh-huh,” she drawled, nodding weakly.

“Good.” I rose and turned to the rest of the Killer Bass, all of whom stepped back when my gaze landed on them. “Now, what the fuck’s this about an mp3 player?”

Courtney opened her mouth to speak, but before she could do so, another voice cut in.

“Oh, are you talking about this?”

I turned to see Heather walking up to us. She pulled what looked like an mp3 player out of her pocket and held it up for inspection before looking around.

“Wow, this place is a real mess,” she said cheerily, right before her eyes landed on Eva’s semi-conscious form, and her cheer disappeared instantly. “Wh-what happened to her?”

I happened to her,” I said darkly. I gestured to the mp3 player. “Is that hers?”

“Uh, I-I think so,” Heather stammered. She handed it to me and I took it. “I found it by the campfire pit… Wh-what happened here, exactly?”

“Eva attacked me and I taught her a lesson,” I said as I inspected the mp3 player. There was a small sticker at the bottom that read “Eva”. “Looks like this is hers, alright. Thanks for that.”

“Oh, um, no problem,” Heather said. She kept glancing between me and Eva, looking worried.

I rolled my eyes. “Relax, I didn’t do any permanent damage. She’ll be fine.”

“I-if you say so…”

“Yo, Eva,” I said as I once more crouched next to the downed girl, holding out the mp3 player. “Heather found your mp3 player.”

“Tha… thank you…” she murmured as she took it.

“Awright, if that’s all, I’m going back to sleep,” I said resolutely as I rose. I glared at the people gathered around. “And don’t anyone fucking dare wake me up. Understand?”

There were gulps and mute nods all around. I gave them another second of glaring, then went back into the cabin.

Fuck, I needed to sleep!



Later that night we gathered at the campfire pit for another campfire ceremony. I hadn’t learned of it until just then, but apparently we lost the Awake-a-thon. In the end it had come down to Duncan and Gwen – the two night owls, just as expected – and unfortunately Duncan was the one who lost. So here we were again, two losses in a row and nothing to show for it.

Well, except for the hot tub. That was pretty sweet.

I groaned. I hadn’t been able to fall asleep at all in the time before Chris showed up and dragged us all here. With it finally getting dark out, I was ready to drop at a moment’s notice.

“Campers,” Chris spoke, putting the plate of marshmallows down on an empty stump, “you’ve all made your decisions and cast your votes. There are only nine marshmallows on this plate. When I call your name, come up and claim your marshmallow.”

I yawned. “Can we hurry this up? I wanna go to sleep.”

“You can’t hurry drama,” Chris said lightly before continuing. “The camper who does not receive a marshmallow must immediately return to the Dock of Shame, catch the Boat of Losers, and leave. And you can never come back. Ever!

There was a pause – which would likely be far more dramatic on TV with music added to it – before the host continued on.

“The first marshmallow goes to Duncan, who almost won the Awake-a-thon. The second goes to Jason, who bravely faced off against a cheater.”

Duncan and I each let out a grunt in turn before collecting our marshmallows. The punk rocker was probably the only one on our team who had slept less than I in the past few days, as everyone else besides the two of us had managed to get at least a few hours of shut-eye in after the challenge.

I listened with half an ear as Chris continued calling out names. In the end, there were only two people still waiting to have their name called: Eva and Sadie. Or was it Katie? No, I was pretty sure it was Sadie. Katie was the one who left last time. Probably. Either way, she had been sniffling to herself the entire ceremony, much to my annoyance.

Like, seriously; she had only been apart from her “bestest friend evar!” for like, three days. Grow up already!

“Campers, this is the final marshmallow of the evening,” Chris said, his voice somber. There was a long, dramatic pause, and then… “Eva.”

The gym girl let out a relieved sigh and collected her marshmallow. Meanwhile, Sadie let out a wail of despair… only to suddenly cut herself off.

“Wait, does this mean I get to go where Katie is?”

Chris nodded. “Uh-huh.”

“Yay! Thanks, you guys!”

I blinked. That was… Actually, that wasn’t entirely unexpected. Still weird, though.

Sadie fairly ran toward the Dock of Shame, waving to us all the while. “I’ll see you guys later! Bye~!”

I muttered a “Bye,” as I rose, idly taking a bite of my marshmallow. I hadn’t bothered with roasting it this time, wanting to get back to the cabin and my bed as soon as possible.

This challenge… had not been suited for me. Back in my teens – my original teens – maybe, but not now; I had long since gotten rid of my old night owl ways, and with the lack of streetlights my internal clock had reset to forest mode, which meant getting up with the sun, which had worked against me here.

Next time… We gotta win next time!



Jason sat in the confessional, facing the camera… with his eyes closed and his shoulders slumped, his head lolling to one side.

Then, one of Chris’s many interns entered the confessional, poking the boy in the side. “Hey, Jason, man? This ain’t your bed.”

The boy grunted and lazily opened his eyes. “Huh? Wha?”


Go to bed, man.”

Oh… Shounds guud…”

Not here, man!”



I wasn’t sure whether to vote for Eva or Sadie.”

Courtney was sitting in the confessional, one leg draped over the other as she faced the camera.


I mean, Eva’s clearly out of control, but she’s also one of our strongest players. Losing her early might mean losing the competition, but keeping her might also mean losing the competition simply because she can’t control herself.”

The Hispanic girl looked to the side. “But then, Jason stepped in, and… well you know what happened. Eva’s been acting really subdued since then, and even apologized for her behavior, so I figured she deserved another chance.”

Turning back to face the camera, Courtney continued. “As for Sadie, well… I don’t have anything against her. Actually, I’ve felt sorry for her ever since Katie was voted off. I think… I think that was part of why I ended up voting for her. You know, so she could go see Katie? Yeah.”

She leaned back, touching her cheek in thought. “But now I’m not sure about Jason. I mean, he’s angry a lot, but he seems to have things under control, unlike Eva. He also seems to be a really strong player. And did you see the way he handled Eva? He’s definitely done some martial arts, I can tell you that! That was… It was kind of cool, actually.”

A slight smile appeared on Courtney’s face as she said the last part.


Yeah… That was kind of cool.”



Okay, so things didn’t go exactly according to plan.”

Heather sat in the confessional, one leg draped over the other, her foot moving up and down as she spoke, clearly agitated.


My plan of stealing Eva’s mp3 player was supposed to get her voted off the Killer Bass, but now I hear Sadie got voted off, instead. She’s a bit player; I wouldn’t have cared one bit if she stuck around all the way to the finale. But Eva? She’s a threat.”

Heather took a deep breath and straightened slightly. “And apparently, so is Jason. I didn’t see what happened, but somehow he ‘handled’ Eva without getting so much as a scratch. I thought his performance in the hot tub challenge was just a fluke, but now I’m not so sure. He might actually be dangerous.”

She smirked, then, and leaned forward. “Buuuuut… so am I, and his temper’s almost as bad as Eva’s. I just need to find the right buttons to push and I’ll get rid of him. He won’t see it coming.


I’m going to win this. Count on it!”



End Chapter 3



The roster

The Screaming Gophers: Gwen, Trent, Heather, Cody, Lindsay, Beth, Izzy, Owen, Leshawna, Justin, Noah

The Killer Bass: Geoff, Bridgette, DJ, Tyler, Sadie, Katie, Courtney, Jason, Duncan, Eva, and Harold
 
Last edited:

Bear Ribs

Well-known member
Hmm, is shipping beginning? Courtney's not the worst person on the show but... good people aren't in abundance on Total Drama Island. Given that you're the physical type I imagine you'll do well in the next challenge.
 

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