Author's Note: I decided to write a prompt that I...prompted at the QA forum. I know pretty much nothing about Survivor so...I may have gotten some details about the audition process wrong? And, yes, written for the Quartie ficathon!
Prompt: Quinn making a try out video for Survivor and Artie filming it
She's a Survivor
"This," said Quinn, holding up a wriggling worm. "Is a worm. And I'm going to eat it." Without even making a face, she placed it in her mouth and swallowed, proudly opening her mouth and sticking out her tongue to prove that she really had eaten the annelid.
Lowering his camera, Artie looked like he was about to vomit. "That was…disgusting." Raising the camera back to eye level, he directed, "Quick, go get another!"
Spinning around, Quinn scoured the ground for another, mind ticking back to days earlier when all of this had begun…
Quinn, Rachel, Mike and Artie all had American Lit together, Tuesdays and Thursdays from 9:00 am to 11:00 am. Upon Rachel's insistence, the four occupied the row of chairs closest to the teacher. It was difficult not to complain so Quinn had, at first, until she had gotten used to Professor Georgiana in High Def and Surround Sound, as Mike referred to the experience of being in the up close and personal seats. One month after the semester had started, the American Lit class had a raucous conversation that had, somehow, led to the reality television show Survivor. One particular loud mouthed boy had bet he could make an audition tape that would guarantee him a spot on the show.
"I could do it, get on the show," he sneered. "Doubt you could."
At the boys words, Artie did a literal face palm. Though the two had only started to get to know each other that semester, Artie was certain that such a claim, leveled at Quinn, could only mean one thing. And he was right.
Narrowing her eyes, Quinn stared the chunky red-headed boy down. "I could too! Why don't you make a video and I make a video, then we'll see."
The two had shaken hands on it and, the following Saturday, Quinn, Rachel, Mike and Artie were all in Lima, in Artie's parents backyard, making Quinn's Survivor audition tape.
"I think," stated Rachel from her position on the porch, where she was snacking on a bowl of vegan and, therefore, butterless, popcorn. "That you should cover yourself in mud. You have to prove that you are not afraid to get dirty."
Arching his eyebrows into his bangs, it was apparent that Mike was holding back whatever comment he wanted to make about what Rachel had just said. "Eat a bug," was his only advice.
Placing her hands behind her back, Quinn walked over to Artie, who was setting up the camera equipment. "What do you think?"
Tilting his head, Artie adjusted something then glanced up at her. "I think we should reenact every Survivor challenge ever. I was googling some last night -"
"Really?" she interrupted, laughing a little. "You were?"
A slight blush crept onto his cheeks. "Yeah. I wanted to help you out. Plus, I hate that guy…what's his name."
Shrugging, Quinn said, "No idea but I hate him too. He's such a pompous, arrogant, self-obsessed-"
"Pretty sure those words all mean the same thing or, at least, all have similar meanings," Artie cut her off, smirking up at her.
She twisted her mouth to one side, shooting him her 'I'm not amused face' before stooping over to examine his camera. "This is fairly new."
Gulping at her close proximity, he stuttered a response. "I, well, it was, you see…I got it for Christmas!"
Biting her bottom lip, she murmured a "Mmhmm," her laugh not quite bubbling to the surface.
Clearing his throat, Artie indicated the nearby apple tree. "I guess we should start. Go climb that."
And two hours later, Quinn was eating a worm.
As she was searching for another, she heard Rachel and Mike talking.
"That was vile."
"It was cool."
"She ate a worm! While it was alive! That made me feel ill."
"It was awesome."
"Really, Michael? Cool and awesome?"
Though she couldn't hear him shrug, Quinn knew that was what Mike did, accompanied by a small laugh.
"Any luck?"
Grinning up at Artie, she answered in the negative. "There has to be one around here somewhere. But I'm tired of looking. Maybe we can do that water balloon thing? I have to pop as many as possible, right?"
Glancing at the sheet of paper in his lap, Artie gave a short nod. "That's what you wrote down here. Where'd you get this idea?"
"Made it up," she replied, standing. "I need to change before we start."
"Oh, right. You know where the bathroom is." Spinning around, he called after her, "Did you guys wager anything, by the way?" The question had been on his mind ever since he had seen Quinn and what's his name conversing outside of the classroom the day the bet was made.
"Um…yes," Quinn said, kicking at the grass. "If I win, he's buying me - us - a pizza. If he wins, he's taking me on a…date. And I'd rather eat a dozen more worms than go on a date with him!" She gave a shake of her head then turned back around, entering the house a few seconds later.
A thousand feelings assaulted Artie as he watched her disappear. A date? A DATE? Quinn could not go on a date with that idiot. Grinding his teeth, he hurried over to Mike and Rachel, who were covered in popcorn. "Did you two get into a popcorn war?" When Rachel opened her mouth, mostly likely to launch into a twenty minute explanation, Artie waved his hand, dismissing her. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is making this the best audition tape ever."
"Oh," giggled Rachel, the anger over him bypassing her only a minute previous dissipating. "You heard about the date."
Confused, Mike scrunched his eyebrows together. "Date?"
"That isn't…what I mean is…let's just make this amazing, okay?"
Still giggling, Rachel patted him on the shoulder. "Deal, Arthur."
At her use of his full name, Artie rolled his eyes. She insisted on calling Mike Michael and him Arthur and the two had stopped protesting, realizing that all efforts on that front were futile.
"Ahem."
The soft sound of Quinn's voice drew everyone's attention. Hands on her hips, Quinn stood underneath the Abrams' apple tree, wearing only a red and black bikini.
It was all Artie could do to keep his mouth from dropping open as he looked her up and down.
"Well, where do you want me?"
Widening his eyes, Artie heard his brain yelling at him to speak but he was afraid of what might spill out if he did.
"I think," Mike told her, his tone playful. "He wants you closer."
Confused, Quinn started towards them. "Closer to you guys?"
Before Mike could say anything else, Artie backed up, running over a toe, and Rachel smacked him in the chest. "That's fine, Quinn," Artie blurted out.
Leaping from the porch, Rachel grabbed the bucket of water balloons that she and Mike had filled earlier in the day, hauling it over to Quinn's side. "I hope that is enough. I think there are about thirty there."
"That's plenty," Quinn assured, picking an oval shaped blue one first. "Okay, director, action time?"
"Yup, action." Hitting record, he closed his eyes for a moment, grateful that he hadn't bumbled like an moron when he had seen her in the bikini. He was even more grateful when she changed back into her shorts and t-shirt once she had finished the water balloon stunt.
That night, while eating Indian food, to the delight of the girls but the dismay of the guys, who had really only agreed to that food choice because they knew how much the girls loved it, the four of them reviewed the audition tape.
They gasped when Quinn fell out of the tree, laughed when she slipped in the mud puddle that Mike had created, made gagging noises when she ate the worm, cheered when she stayed on the balance beam even with things being hurled at her and clapped when it came the end, after a short monologue where Quinn stated why she was a great choice for the show.
"You're totally going to get picked to be on the show," Mike hooted.
Artie really hoped Mike was right. Quinn could not go on a date with what's his name!
Three weeks later, Quinn, Rachel, Mike and Artie were eating pizza in the student lounge. "Thank God," Quinn breathed, between bites. "I don't have to go on a date with that loser."
In his head, Artie echoed her. "Ready to appear on the show now?"
Nodding, Rachel took a bite of the pizza, which had all the cheese removed from it, chewed, swallowed, then said, "I assume you are very excited, Quinn. This could be the stepping stone on your path to fame! If I were you, I would utilize this opportunity. In fact, I probably should have made a tape myself! Though I'm not sure if -"
"Yeah, right, Rach." Snorting, Mike smirked at her. "You would never survive on that show."
When the two launched into an argument, a usual occurrence between the two, Quinn and Artie turned toward each other.
"Um, Quinn?"
"Um, Artie?"
Interlocking the fingers on his hands, he stammered, "You know, all of this got me thinking about us and our friendship and would you like to go on a date with me?"
The abruptness of the question caught her of guard but it didn't take long to process. Enthusiastically bobbing her head up and down, she murmured, "Yes, I'd like that. But…I need to say one thing."
Suddenly worried, he leaned forward and waited.
"I…really don't…want to go on this show."
In response, all he could do was laugh.