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: Alright, because I’m pretty much booked solid for the weekend, I hurried my ass up and finished this today. Enjoy! Oh, and we’re back to a more normal chapter length! Yay!
Chapter 13: Drama X-Treme
Chris stood on the dock as he addressed the camera.
“Last time, on Total Drama Island…”
Clips began rolling, showing scenes from the previous episode.
“Gwen and Jason shared a few touching moments bonding in the woods… while being stalked by a jealous camper. Trent tried to swoop in and save his not-quite-lady-love, but Jason sent him flying straight to the med tent, and Heather wasted no time forging another alliance.
“The eleven surviving campers were then put through Master Chief Hatchet’s brutal boot camp.
“Jason showed off his military genius raiding the kitchen and reducing MC Hatchet to tears before beating the high score on the obstacle course. All the while, the surprisingly savvy country boy traded sizzling barbs with Heather. Is their rivalry heating up, or is Courtney right thinking there might be sparks of a different kind?
“In the end, it was constant runner-up Eva who outlasted the competition and won boot camp for the Bass.
“This week, the campers are pushed to the EXTREME. Who will crack under the pressure? Find out right now, on Total. Drama. Island!”
It was the day after the boot camp challenge… and all was not well at Camp Wawanakwa.
DJ and Geoff were fighting. Again. Geoff had fed Bunny a carrot he saved over from breakfast and DJ had seen it, then launched into the other boy about how he was “ruining Bunny’s appetite”.
Which was horse-shit; bunnies were pretty much always hungry. In any case, that had triggered the fight that I’d spent the past few minutes watching as I sat leaning against the main lodge and enjoyed some morning sun. Or tried to, anyway.
“My teammates are morons.”
“Oh, yeah? Try listening to Lindsay and Justin discuss fashion for an hour,” Gwen, who sat next to me with her sketchpad on her lap, retorted.
I shuddered. “Okay, that might be worse.”
“Much worse,” she agreed with a small smile. “Hey, hold still for a bit, would you?”
I gave her a sidelong glance. “Why?”
“I’m drawing you.”
I blinked. “You’re drawing me?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
“… I’m still not taking my clothes off.”
“I didn’t ask you to!”
“I don’t get him.”
Duncan looked up from his work. “Don’t get who?”
“Jason,” Courtney clarified, gesturing toward the main lodge, where Jason sat leaning against the wall. Gwen was with him, and judging by her flushed face they were having quite the intimate conversation.
Duncan looked from the two teens over to the girl sitting across from him on the Bass’ porch. He had a feeling where this was going. “What about him?”
“Why is he flirting with Heather and Gwen? It doesn’t make any sense!” Courtney said, throwing her hands at the sky in exasperation. Then she frowned. “Unless he’s really just a womanizer…”
“I doubt it. I don’t think he’s flirting with Heather at all,” Duncan offered as he returned his attention to the knife and piece of wood in his hands. He had just started carving the wood, intending to make a companion piece to the skull he’d just finished up the previous day. For some reason, he was experiencing a slight case of déjà vu.
“I know what I saw, Duncan.”
“So you keep telling me, but you were pretty out of it, weren’t you?”
“I wasn’t that out of it!” Courtney snapped. “Besides, you saw them during boot camp, didn’t you? They couldn’t stop flirting with each other!”
“I dunno if I’d call that flirting,” Duncan said, thinking back to the many barbs the pair had traded back and forth. Then, upon seeing the angry look on Courtney’s face, he quickly added, “And then there was that whole thing with Trent the other day.”
The distraction worked. “Ohhh, yeah, that was exciting!”
Duncan blinked. “Exciting?”
“Yeah!” the Hispanic girl replied, her face animated. “Jason and Gwen return from a romantic rendezvous in the woods, then the jealous ex-lover Trent shows up and picks a fight!” She punched the air. “One punch, that was all it took!”
“Uh… yeah.” Duncan watched the girl curiously, his mind awhirl. She liked drama, did she? That certainly explained a few things.
Huh. Maybe I should pick a fight with someone…?
When I returned to camp from my morning walk the next day, I found myself taking in a rather unusual sight: a bear, digging through the external food container behind the main lodge. The padlock that normally kept the container secure was nowhere to be seen, leading me to believe the bear had either lucked upon the unlocked container by chance or routinely patrolled the camp in the mornings while I was away on my walk. Regardless of the exact causation involved, however, the end result was that I strolled out of the woods and ended up in a staring contest with a bear holding an armful of plastic bags containing marshmallows.
After a couple seconds of quiet staring at each other, I raised my hand in greeting.
“Yo.”
The bear let out what sounded like a vaguely growl-ey greeting and mirrored my waving motion with its paw… and in the process dropped the bags of marshmallows. It then let out what I could only presume was the ursine equivalent of an “Eep!” and hurriedly gathered the bags back up. It then looked at me with a vaguely embarrassed expression on its face.
The odd encounter ended with the sound of an airplane doing a dive. As I looked up to see a small, yellow airplane descend and begin circling the camp, the bear shuffled off in a hurry, either frightened or just taking the opportunity to retreat.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw campers being pouring out of the cabins to look join me in looking up at the sky. Before long, the airplane descended further and came in for a landing. As it did, I saw the pilot was none other than Chris, wearing of all things a Rebel Alliance pilot’s outfit from Star Wars.
“Hit the deck!” Geoff yelled as he and the other campers ran away, some of them screaming. For my part, I simply stepped closer to the main lodge, hoping Chris would have the presence of mind to avoid the biggest obstacle in the camp.
As it turned out, he did… but he unfortunately lacked either the sense or the piloting skill to avoid the old outhouse that served as our confessional. One of the plane’s wings smashed into and through the small building, tearing the latter to pieces.
To my puzzlement, the confessional’s destruction once more revealed the bear, who quickly hid the bags of marshmallows behind its back and adopted a look of feigned innocence.
I simply shook my head and turned my attention once more to the plane as it slowed to a halt and Chris rolled down the window. Pulling out his trademark megaphone, he addressed the assembled campers.
“Just flexing your muscles for today’s X-Treme Sport Challenge!”
“Ugh, it’s too early for this,” Gwen said tiredly. When she noticed me looking at her, she turned her baggy eyes my way. “What?”
“Hey, don’t look at me,” I said, making sure to sound as annoyingly chipper as possible. “I’ve been up for hours.”
“Freak,” she said, giving me a wan smile.
“Takes one to know one,” I returned cheerfully.
“Yes, you’re both freaks, we know,” Heather shot in. She didn’t have bags under her eyes like Gwen did, but she did sound appropriately irritable enough to have only recently awoken.
“Hey, attention on me,” Chris said. “This week you’ll participate in three challenges. First up: X-Treme Sofa Bed Skydiving!”
As the host spoke, a pair of interns pushed a sofa bed up next to his plane and unfolded the bed portion. They quickly walked away as the plane’s side door opened, revealing Chef Hatchet in a paratroopers uniform and parachute.
“Contestants will plummet- er… skydive, to a waiting sofa bed target below,” Chris continued, upon which Hatchet casually jumped onto the sofa bed… only for it to instantly fold itself back up and trap him inside.
There was a muffled “Get me outta here!” from within the sofa bed, but Chris ignored it.
“Of course, you’ll be skydiving from 5,000 feet, and using these,” he said, tossing a pair of very old and worn-looking parachutes out of the plane. When they hit the ground in front of us, flies could be seen rising up from within, disturbed by the impact. Chris pulled up a piece of paper and added, “Our lucky contestants are… Trent and DJ.”
“Sure, why not? You know what they say on Black Cone Mountain, bro: best glimpse of Heaven is on the way into Hell,” Trent said confidently and put his hand on DJ’s shoulder. “Let’s do this!”
“Yeah, uh, sure,” DJ returned nervously. “Bring it on!”
“Not so fast,” Chris interrupted them, “because, the second challenge of the day is X-Treme Rodeo Moose-Riding!” The host stepped out of his plane and gestured, and we all turned to see a small fenced enclosure containing – you guessed it – a mildly pissed-off-looking moose. “Contestants will rodeo-ride the great Canadian bucking moose for eight seconds, or… get hoofed into a giant pile of socks from the Lost & Found.”
As he said the last part, a couple of interns dumped wheelbarrows of very smelly socks into a pile in front of us.
“Oh, that is awful,” Justin said, holding his nose with one hand.
“Well, then, it’s your unlucky day, Justin,” Chris said as he put his arm around the pretty boy’s shoulders. “You’ll be riding for Gophers. And Geoff? You’ll be riding for Bass.”
The cowboy skateboarder cheered. “Yeah, man!”
“And the final challenge: X-Treme Seadoo Waterskiiing!” the host continued and gestured toward a large pond that had been dug up at the edge of camp… only it was filled not with water, but with mud. There were wooden ramps and small flags scattered around the race course itself and a finish line set up at one edge of it, as well as obstacles in the form of rocks sticking out of the mud. “Contestants will waterski the race course, grabbing as many flags as they can before crossing the finish line, while a member from the opposing team drives the seadoo.”
“How can we waterski without water?” Heather asked, voicing the question on everyone’s mind.
“It’s really hard,” Chris answered with a chuckle. He lowered his megaphone. “Check it out.”
Then, presumably for demonstrative purposes, Chef Hatchet drove a seadoo across the ground… almost immediately ending in a total wipeout as he crashed into a tree.
“Hahahaha! Awesome!” Our host, of course, was naught but amused by the display. He turned back to us and said, “Jason, you’ll be skiing for the Killer Bass.”
“Uh, okay,” I said, stroking my chin thoughtfully. “I’ve never waterskied before, but I guess I can give it a try…”
“And Lindsay for the Screaming Gophers,” Chris continued.
The blonde giggled. “Yay, I can model my new bikini!”
“And now for the cool swag: whoever scores the most challenges gets bragging rights for the night, saves their butts from elimination, and wins a tripped-out, multi-massage mobile shower.”
As he spoke, the host gestured toward a small truck parked at the edge of camp. The rear door on the container bed was open, revealing it had been modified into a sparkling, high-class shower room. Sitting on the ground next to it was Chef Hatchet, looking mildly bruised but paying it no heed as he let his fingers dance across the strings of a large harp and adding to the atmosphere.
“Can it be?!” Heather asked in delighted amazement.
“Oh, it be,” Chris confirmed with a grin.
“Sure beats the communal shower,” I said, nodding as I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I don’t care if I have to win the challenge all on my own, you are not setting a single, smelly foot in that shower,” Heather snapped as she oriented on me. “It’s mine!”
I chuckled. “Oh, bring it on.”
“I will!”
While the two of us exchanged smug grins and glares, Chris climbed back into his airplane and started up the engine. Before taking off, he looked out the window and addressed us one last time.
“Okay, gang, chao for brekky, then report back in twenty minutes for the X-Treme Sport Challenge!”
With that, the host took off, leaving us all coughing in a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes.
In hindsight, it was a pretty fitting prelude to the day’s events.
After an uneventful breakfast we gathered outside the camp, where Chris had once more touched down in his plane. The two sofa beds stood ready, waiting for the challenge to begin.
The host addressed us through his cockpit window. “Now, remember: ground teams can wheelie the sofa beds wherever they want in order to help their comrade with the landing. DJ, Trent – get your asses in here! It’s challenge time!”
The two campers had barely climbed into the plane before it set off, leaving the rest of us behind with the sofa beds.
“So,” I said as I turned to Heather and held out my hand, “may the best team win?”
The Asian girl slapped my hand away. “Don’t touch me. And we will.”
I smirked and crossed my arms over my chest. “Mighty confident, ain’t cha?”
“Of course. You’re going down.”
“Not unless-”
“And stop with that stupid joke!”
“… Well, someone’s a downer.”
Heather groaned and promptly turned her back on me, her long hair whirling in the air. “Move it, people! Chop, chop!”
“You heard her,” I said as I turned to the rest of the Bass, “pick up that sofa bed and let’s go!”
I took up position around the Bass’ sofa bed along with Duncan, Eva and Geoff. Each of us grabbed a corner and lifted while Courtney moved ahead to supervise and lead the way.
“See you tomorrow~” I said cheerfully as we casually jogged past the Gophers, who were still struggling just to get their sofa bed off the ground without dropping it. While Justin was certainly buff enough, the same couldn’t be said for Heather, Gwen or Lindsay, and the Gophers were having some very obvious trouble coordinating the lifting properly… or even at all.
Heather sent me a glare. “Musclehead!”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of the wind whipping past my face,” I called over my shoulder. “Try me again once you catch up… if ya ever do! Wahahahahahaha!”
“Ohhhhh!”
We moved our sofa bed out on the beach, as that was where it would be the most visible from the air. From there it was a waiting game, as once we’d unfolded the sofa bed the rest was up to DJ.
“Oh, hey, nice of you to join us,” I said once the Gophers showed up, more pushing and dragging than carrying the sofa bed onto the beach.
In response, Heather sent me a glare then haughtily turned her nose up at me and looked away.
“Oh, the silent treatment, huh?” I said conversationally. “Good, my ears could use a rest.”
The Asian girl’s eyes flashed dangerously as her head whipped around, but she said nothing and soon turned away again.
“Heh.”
Courtney slapped Duncan on the shoulder and gestured toward Jason and Heather.
“See? They’re totally flirting!” Courtney half-said, half-whispered to him.
Duncan felt a bit dubious, but nonetheless followed the girl’s gaze. “I dunno… Don’t they seem a bit, you know, hostile?”
Courtney didn’t appear to be listening as she watched the spectacle going on. “We should do something.”
“Oh, no, that would be a terrible idea,” Duncan said and empathically shook his head as he crossed his arms. He knew what Jason was capable of from their time on Boney Island, and he thought he had a pretty good idea what Heather was about, too. No way he was getting in the middle of that.
“What are you, scared?” Courtney asked slyly and shot him a half-lidded glance.
Duncan uncrossed his arms. “What?! No way! I ain’t scared of any-”
“Good! Then you talk to Jason about Heather, and I talk to Heather about Jason.”
Dammit, she tricked me! … That’s so hot, though!
It didn’t take too long before the first jumper came into view, falling from the airplane circling high above us. At first it was impossible to tell who had jumped first, but soon enough the figure grew larger, revealing itself as Trent.
For some odd reason, however, he didn’t seem too keen on opening his parachute. And he was screaming an awful lot. Was he-
The musician slammed into the beach, sending sand flying everywhere and forcing me to cover my eyes. When I opened them, I saw Trent lying face-down in a Trent-shaped hole in the sand. Immediately, the rest of the Gophers gathered around him and tried talking to him, but all the boy did was let out a long, painful groan.
“Ow,” I said in sympathy, then turned my attention to the sky. DJ was next, and he- Wait. I turned to the rest of my team. “Guys, fold it up!”
“Why?” Duncan asked, frowning, even as behind him Eva immediately moved to follow my orders.
“You saw what happened to Trent, didn’t you? If DJ can’t aim properly, we gotta catch him! Come on, let’s position the sofa bed and unfold it once we know where he’s gonna land.”
The rest of the Bass widened their eyes upon hearing my explanation and immediately moved to help Eva fold up the sofa bed. And a good thing, too, because looking up we could see DJ had just jumped out of the plane and was rapidly falling toward us.
More or less, anyway.
Unlike Trent, DJ managed to open up his parachute. The downside of this was that his trajectory ended up much harder to estimate for us, and we ended up running back and forth with the sofa bed as DJ floated this way and that on the winds.
In the end, though, we unfolded the sofa bed and caught him.
“Good job, guys,” I said as the rest of the Bass cheered around me. I looked at DJ; the boy sat on the sofa bed, looking this way and that as he patted himself down.
“Everything’s still here? Nothing’s broken?” he asked, his voice a couple octaves higher than normal. Which was perfectly understandable given the situation, especially if he’d seen what happened to Trent before he jumped.
Suddenly, the sofa bed folded back into itself, in the process trapping DJ inside.
Before I could do much more than blink, the airplane that had carried the two jumpers aloft descended with engine roaring. Leveling out, it flew low over the camp as the pilot’s window lowered.
“Gophers lose, Bass win!” Chris called out on his megaphone as he passed over the beach. “One, zero!”
“Okay, cowpokes – let’s start… the Rodeo Moose-Riding Challenge!”
Once we’d gotten DJ out of the sofa bed – and Nurse Hatchet had wheeled Trent off to the medical tent – we all gathered by the fenced enclosure containing the moose.
“Rodeo-ridin’s kinda like surfin’,” Geoff said as he jogged up to the small ladder leaning against the side of the enclosure, “once you catch the lip, you just flow with the mojo.”
“I don’t think that’s remotely true,” I deadpanned as my eyes met the moose’s. He looked pissed. “’course, I’m not a surfer, so…”
“Aw, it’ll be fine,” Geoff said confidently. He climbed the ladder and sat down on the moose.
“I hope you’re right.”
The boy turned to the nearest camera and gave a big smile and a wave. “Hey, Bridgette, watch me ace this challenge, alright?! I’m doing this for you, babe!”
Very cautiously, wearing an expression of outmost nervousness, Chef Hatchet – no longer dressed up as a nurse – turned the latch keeping the gate to the enclosure closed. No sooner had he done so before the moose charged, knocking the gate open and trampling the poor chef before it rushed off with Geoff clinging onto its back.
“Woo-hoo!” the cowboy surfer called out. “This is awesome!”
Suddenly, the moose dug its heels into the ground and stopped. Unprepared for this, Geoff failed to compensate and went flying off the animal’s back. Astonishingly, he landed right in the pile of dirty socks the interns had set up earlier that morning. He emerged from it a moment later, unhurt but spitting socks.
“Ohhh, that stinks big-time for Bass,” Chris commented on his megaphone. “No, seriously, that is some rank stuff. Justin, let’s get!”
It was Justin’s turn.
… Eventually. It took quite a bit of time for Chef Hatchet and the interns to get the moose back into the enclosure, but once that was done it was Justin’s turn. The pretty boy very nervously climbed the ladder and sat down on the moose. It turned its head to look back at him, and Justin gave a hesitant smile.
And that’s when the moose’s angry red eyes turned into little pink hearts.
“It’s a gay moose?! Are you fucking kidding me?!” I exclaimed in disbelief once Chef Hatchet opened the gate and the moose calmly walked out of the enclosure, all while staring, completely smitten, at the boy riding on its back.
Justin, no doubt having realized that his charm had worked its… well, charm… had left his nervousness behind and was smiling and waving as he rode the moose in a semi-circle before returning to the enclosure. He dropped down from the moose’s back and patted it between its horns before leaving the enclosure.
“Looks like you lose this one.”
One eye twitching, I turned to see Heather saunter up to me, looking smug. I took a deep, calming breath and traced one finger along my eyebrow to soothe my twitching eye before addressing her.
“Oh, I’m not worried,” I said, meeting her smug smile with one of my own. “After all, it’s my turn next.”
She snorted. “Arrogant much?”
“I’m up against Lindsay.”
Heather’s smile faded, replaced with a worried frown.
I smirked.
The second challenge over with, we gathered at the mud pond.
“Sooo, we have a tie,” Chris announced as he rode in on a flashy red ATV. How much did that cost? “Whoever wins the X-Treme Seadoo Waterski Challenge wins invincibility.”
“I’m reeeaaaady!” Lindsay called out as she stepped onto the scene. She struck a pose holding her waterskis in one hand while resting the other on her hip as she very intentionally thrust her chest out to show off her green bikini.
“We are so dead,” Heather deadpanned.
“Yes, you are,” I said smugly. “I may not have waterskied before, but there’s no way I’m losing to her.”
“Unless…” To my alarm, Heather’s flat expression turned sly as she gave me a sidelong glance and then held up a set of keys. “I get to drive the wave jumper!”
I blinked. “Ah, shit.”
“You are so out of your league, Wild Boy,” Heather said as she sat on the seadoo, her hands already gripping the handlebar. I stood a ways behind her with nothing more on me than my swimming trunks and waterskis, and in my hands I held the handle attached to a rope which itself attached to the back of the seadoo.
I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel a tad nervous.
“Okay, just for the record: you do know I’ve just been messing with you ‘cause of the whole competition thing, right? Nothin’ personal?” I asked in a hopeful tone.
Alas, my hope was misplaced. “Oh, you’re about to find out just how personal I can get!”
“Yeah, I was afraid of that,” I muttered.
Chris chose that moment to slowly drive by the pond on his ATV. “Here’s the road rules… Oh, wait; there are no rules! Which means…. this is gonna be awesome!”
“I’m going to enjoy this,” Heather said and fluttered her eyelashes at me. “Are you?”
“I’m gonna venture a guess and say ‘no’,” I deadpanned, to which she snickered. I looked at the rocks scattered around the pond and sighed.
This is going to hurt, isn’t it?
Chris pulled out a flag. “And… go!”
Heather hit the gas immediately. I was pulled off my feet and for a moment flew through the air before I crunched my abs and pulled my legs back down. I lowered the skis down onto the mud and leaned back, doing my best to keep my balance.
Hey, this isn’t so ha-
I didn’t even get to finish my thought before Heather made a tight turn and sudden acceleration, sending me skiing off the mud and very nearly into a tree before I was yanked off my feet once more and dragged bodily through the air after the seadoo.
Looking ahead, I saw Heather smirking at me briefly before she turned away… and drove toward the nearest ramp.
Oh, no…
There was a green flag attached to the side of the ramp – one of the ones I had to collect for points. To do so, I would have to let go of the handle with one hand… and I was currently airborne.
“Ah, screw it,” I murmured and tried twisting my body around so I could more easily reach the flag. To my dismay – but not surprise – I flew higher into the air when the seadoo scaled the ramp and became briefly airborne. Fortunately, by the time I reached the flag I was already on my way back down, and my fingers barely managed to grasp the thin pole it was attached to and pull it free.
“Flag one for Bass!” I heard Chris’s voice over the PA system. Apparently, the walkie-talkie I’d seen in his hand earlier wasn’t just for show.
I internally cheered as I grabbed the handle with both hands once again, holding the flag securely between it and my hand.
Heather was less happy. “No!” After completing the jump, she had slowed down enough that I was able to touch my skis to the mud and properly waterski, but she soon accelerated again. This time I was ready for it, and I bent my knees such that I was lower to the ground and managed to retain my footing. She sure didn’t make it easy for me, though, and I was soon covered in mud from all the splatter going on.
Over the course of the next minute or two, I was able to gather up the rest of the flags, and each time I grabbed one I heard Heather yell expletives at my success. Naturally, this only served to increase my anticipation for my imminent victory.
“Five flags and heading home!” Chris’s voice called over the PA system.
“That’s impossible!” Heather complained loudly.
“No, just highly improbable!” I yelled back at her. “Like me!”
“Heather has to cross the finish line or be disqualified,” Chris continued while Heather cursed at me. “But when she does, Jason will take five flags to victory for the Killer Bass!”
Heather looked over her shoulder at me, her expression aghast. I sent her a grin and a wink and saw her grit her teeth. Then, to my surprise, she actually let go of the seadoo’s handlebars and gracefully turned around in her seat to face me fully.
Then she pulled a knife out of her shorts. “Game over, guppy!”
My eyes widened. “Don’t you fucking dare-”
She leaned over the back of the seadoo to cut the rope… but right then, the seadoo passed under a low-hanging tree branch, and as luck (?) would have it, it slipped under the back of her top and tore it completely off.
Now, I was no stranger to women’s breasts – though I admit, the cartoon variety was a fairly rare image in my memory – but it still caught me by surprise when it turned out Heather wore nothing underneath.
Of course, the Asian girl immediately covered up her chest with her arms, and even let out a surprisingly feminine yell. More importantly, in the process, she let go of the knife which sank harmlessly into the mud. I was surprised, but safe.
Briefly. Distracted by her own sudden semi-nudity and seated backward, Heather didn’t see where the seadoo was going. It slammed into a rock and sent her flying off into the air… and attached as I was by the rope, I too was soon rendered airborne. I tried to keep my grip, but holding both the handle and the flags proved difficult, and I found them yanked out of my hands by my own accumulated momentum the moment the rope became fully taut. Because I had held on briefly before losing my grip, I ended up cartwheeling as I flew through the air, the world turning end-over-end until I crashed…
… right into Heather, sending us both into a heap of tangled limbs and loud expletives.
Things could not have gone worse for Heather. Not only had she failed to prevent Jason from collecting the flags, but her last-ditch effort to send him flying by cutting the rope connecting him to the seadoo had backfired spectacularly when a low-hanging tree branch had torn off her top and exposed her chest on international TV. Worse yet, with her sworn enemy staring at her.
And as if all that hadn’t been bad enough, she’d then been thrown off the seadoo and away from the mud pond only to land roughly on the ground. She’d just started to get her bearings again when something slammed into her and she found herself stuck beneath… Oh, no.
Jason was on top of her, his weight pressing her – and her bare chest – into the grass. And he was covered in mud, too, and was in the process of getting it all over her.
She let out a shriek as she turned over and tried to push him off, but it only resulted in her hands slipping against his muddy form and their bare chests pressing together, her breasts squished against his pecs. He was moving too, trying to disentangle himself from her but like herself he kept slipping because of the mud. Eventually they ended up reversing their positions, with Heather straddling the boy’s waist as he lay on his back on the ground.
Unfortunately, this provided him a close-up view of her bare chest. Shrieking again, she covered her breasts with one arm while the other lashed out in a slap. Could things possibly get any more humiliating?!
“Ow! Whatcha do that for?!”
“Shut up! Just shut up! This is all your-” Heather cut herself off when she felt something pressing against her butt. Something big and… hard. Very slowly, she lowered her gaze to stare at the boy below her.
“What? I’m basically mud-wrestling a half-naked chick, what the hell did ya expect?”
“GET OFF ME, YOU PERVERT!”
“YOU’RE ON TOP OF ME!”
Lindsay ended up winning the third challenge for the Gophers – as it turned out, despite her being… well, her, she was an experienced waterskier while Duncan, her driver, didn’t have enough skill with a seadoo to counter it. At the end of it the guy even ended up stuck in a tree while Lindsay pretty much just sailed to the goal.
Of course, I didn’t see any of this because I was busy dealing with Heather at the time.
Oh yeah, and since we were tied before the third challenge, the Gophers ended up winning this time, so that night we would have to vote someone off.
“Well, it was always gonna be either Geoff or DJ,” Jason said, sighing. He was in the confessional, still dressed in nothing but his swimming trunks and caked in dry mud. “It’s kind of a toss-up, but… I think I’m gonna vote for Geoff this time. Between him constantly trying to impress Bridgette and fighting with DJ… Yeah. Plus he kinda reeks at the moment.”
He shot a sidelong glance at the door.
“As for Heather… Well, that was kinda unexpected. All of it, really. I, uh… Yeah. Didn’t expect that to happen.”
The boy scratched the back of his neck.
“Man she was pissed, though. It was her own damn fault, for crying out loud!”
”Ugh, I’ve got mud all over me!” Heather complained as she sat in the confessional, wiping herself off with a towel. She was once more fully clothed, but she still had dry mud here and there.
“I can’t believe that guy! He’s such a… Ugh!”
The Asian girl clasped her hands into fists and shuddered before she resumed scrubbing herself with the towel. “His grubby hands were all over me! On TV! I’ve never been so humiliated in my life...”
She trailed off as a thoughtful look made its way onto her face. Almost imperceptibly, her lips curled upward into a smile as her cheeks reddened.
Then, as if only just noticing the camera, Heather blinked and straightened, her expression turning annoyed.
“What?!”
A bear sat in the confessional, surrounded by transparent plastic bags filled with fluffy white marshmallows. It had a beatific expression on its face as it opened a bag up and began munching down on the marshmallows within.
Then, having finished the bag, the bear let out a loud burp. It looked at the camera with a sheepish grin before shrugging and picking up another bag.
The bear was happy.
End Chapter 13
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
I will say, though, that at the moment I still don't know which team will win, so there's like a 50/50 shot it won't matter, anyhow.