Author's note: Dude, this is my first murder mystery, and I know full well who the killer is, but you don't! MUAHAHAHAHA! It's rated T for character death and mention of alcohol abuse.
Every named character from Total Drama is in this fanfic. What happens when Chris invites all of the named contestants, including Chef, to a fancy dinner, that turns out to be a big giant murder-fest! Look and see!
Chapter 1: The Last Supper?
It had been long enough since the first guest had arrived to Chris's fancy dinner, but little did these ex-contestants know that they were going to be plucked off one by one. Everyone was here from the Island campers, to the World Tour newbies. Chris held up his wine, stood up and said, "I propose a toast to the winners of each of the three seasons, Owen, Duncan, and Heather. None of you had to return to win your respective seasons. It does suck for Heather, about the demise of her prize, but we replaced it. Here's to the winners!" He then took a drink, as did everybody else. Then Chris sat down, and the lights went out. There was a scream that sounded quite feminine. The lights came on, and Blaineley was lying on the floor, a knife in her chest. Everyone gasped, but only at the fact that someone was dead.
"Who could have killed her?" Chris asked.
"Heather had to have killed her!" Cody shouted.
"Alejandro is to blame, too," Beth said.
"Think about it," Geoff said. "All of us are suspects. Anyone could have killed Blaineley except for Blaineley."
That got everyone thinking. And fighting broke out. Chris then broke up the fight.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, that's enough, you guys!" he shouted.
"Excuse me, but I must use the restroom," Noah said, then left for the restroom.
"Me too, eh," Ezekiel said, then headed in the same direction, only going to a different bathroom.
The lights went out again, and a masculine scream was heard. The lights came up soon after, and the knife was removed from Blaineley and was now in Chris's chest, with a note scrawled in messy handwriting.
Hey, Douchebags,
This is for all the shit you put me through on a daily basis.
Signed, the one who will cause your demise!
"Great, our friendly neighborhood host dude is dead," Noah said as he walked into the room with a book. Duncan took the book and threw it down.
"You are going to help us find the murderer, got it?" he shouted at Noah.
"Okay!" Noah said.
"Alright, now, since everyone is a suspect, we will look for clues. Is anyone here good at dusting for fingerprints?" Geoff said.
"I am. It was one of the things they taught us at Detective Steve's Detective Camp," Harold said.
"Just shut up and dust, string bean!" LeShawna said. Harold then got to work by pulling out a pair of gloves, a small jar, and brush. He put on the gloves, opened the jar, and used the brush to dust for fingerprints on the knife. The lights went out and a masculine scream was heard.