Prologue – Preparing for the Plank

On a dock, somewhere is Muskoka, Ontario:

"Hey, are we rolling?" A man asked, practicing his smiles.

"No, not yet," a brown-haired man, who was currently wrestling with an unnaturally unhelpful camera case told him.

"How 'bout now?" The first man asked again a few seconds later, tapping his foot impatiently for emphasis.

"The camera is still being set up, Maclean. Do we look ready to you?" The second man -an intern- snapped.

"Fine..." Maclean muttered, annoyed at the delay.

Elsewhere, a young teenager (one of twenty three) was sitting on semi-large boat that she had all to herself, and smiling. She was going to be on Total Drama! She was so proud! And... what if she won? That would be amazing! She had a ton of stuff she could think to buy, for herself and her parents and the farm and for Big Bertha...

Beth Ward shook her head. She'd have to win before she thought about what she'd do with the money. She glanced behind her, and felt a slight stab of pain in her jaw. She winced, and rubbed mouth. She it had been a week so far and she still wasn't used to the stupid braces. She just hoped she'd remember the headgear... and that they wouldn't be filmed while sleeping. Silently, she frowned. Hadn't the headgear been outdated since some point in the nineties? Oh well.

Deven Joseph Em, better known as DJ, was pacing. He knew he probably shouldn't be pacing, but he was. He was anxious. It was odd, though, seeing as how he was usually very relaxed. Though, he could think of why he was so anxious easily. Part of it was the fact that he wanted to get to the resort, she if there were any animals around or such. Get away from all this water. Second, he hadn't been to an island since his family moved from Jamaica when he was four. The biggest contribution to his anxiety was, probably, the competition though. Would they be nice...ish? He could probably deal if he found someone nice, or funny, or a fellow animal lover. But what if everyone was a no-nonsense, eyes-on-the-prize type nasty person?

DJ shook his head and resisted the urge to chuckle at his paranoia. There were twenty two other people. If anything, it would be a combination of both. So there would be people he both could and couldn't befriend. Kind of like school.

Gwen Moore wasn't particularly happy with her current predicament. She hadn't actually expected to be picked, after all. Oh well, the money would help her mom at least. Provided she won, of course. Gwen was currently drawing in her sketchbook, a picture of her mom and little brother and home, waiting for her. The next thing she knew, her eyes felt slightly wet. She snapped her sketchbook shut and blinked away her tears, before heading to the bathroom to wash away the signs of them. No WAY she was going to look like some weak, weepy girl for her first impression on national television. After she was sure all signs of the tears were gone, she opened her diary, and began ranting about the world, the how annoying it was she'd been chosen, how the boat's terrifyingly large dips were starting to make her just a little queasy, anything and everything. Little by little, her homesickness finally started to leave her.

Geoff Snow (who vowed to never say his last name on camera) was feeling just a bit torn at the moment. On the one hand, he was going to meet a bunch of new guys and girls to hang with, (maybe some of them even lived near his home town!) but on the other hand, he was being hit with a light flash of homesickness. His brothers, David, Randel and Ozzie (never Oswald) had promised to write but... where exactly was he heading to, anyhow? What if his bros... no, he couldn't think thoughts like that and bum himself out before he even got to the island! Geoff unzipped his bag and found hit football, and began tossing it in the air and catching it. Which was pretty darn boring, actually, and he finally gave up trying to entertain himself that way after two minutes or so. After giving that up, he began exploring and, after a few minutes, found a radio. Listening to it, he recalled his trip two years ago to California, where he saw the most beautiful girl ever surfing on her hands, not even aware he'd begun 'dancing' to the music.

Annie White (who thought she had the most ironic name ever) was jittery. She didn't know why- no, she knew perfectly well why. Yet she didn't let herself pace. She didn't dare. She didn't know why, but she didn't dare to. She was worried about being found, though. She didn't want her father to find her. Why oh why did she sign up for this? Because she had a mission, that's why. She had to make allies, but not friends. No, that was dumb, what better allies are there than actually, honest-to-goodness friends? Ones that aren't waiting to leave you at a critical moment, that's what. But then, if they were actual friends like-

She shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts that seemed to be taking on a life of their own, which proved useless. Was her disguise good enough?

What disguise? An annoying thought in the back of her head supplied in a confused tone. Annie's eye twitched and she shook her head. The disembodied thought had a point, she wasn't actually wearing a disguise, just a glamour. A poorly done one, so it was almost assuredly not good enough. The Brazilian sighed and leaned back, sending her chair (and herself with it) over backwards.

Lindsay Mills was much very much relaxed. She didn't know if she'd actually win -in fact, she didn't think she would. She had signed up to show her beauty to the world. Maybe she'd brighten up a life or two! And besides, though it would be nice to win the money and prove she didn't have to rely on her dad... well... she could always fall back on her dad's money. Granted, Paula and June would probably tease her a little, but that didn't matter, did it? They were nice otherwise. Actually, wasn't it June that told her that... advice?

'Act stupid. You're book dumb and a ditz, but you're not particularly stupid. Act stupid. People will underestimate you.'

That sounded like a good idea at the time, and she'd promised her older sister that she would. The (false) blonde wondered if it was a good idea now, though. No, she shouldn't think like that! She'd promised June! Her sister! She had to keep her promise!

Heather 'Ice' Whitfield had better things to do then worry about the competition, like filing her nails down to a lethal sharpness. So why she was doing the former was completely beyond her. It's not like anyone could out-scheme her, she'd be scheming for years. So why, exactly was she so worried?

'Because you're not perfect. One slip up or nasty comment could get you kicked out for good,' an exceedingly annoying voice in her head supplied, 'plus, you can't know you're better than the competition until you actually see them'.

She withheld a scoff, because she'd be scoffing at herself and look weird. The disembodied voice had a point, although she was worried about where the heck it came from.

Duncan Pawell was pacing. He couldn't help it, he was bored. He wanted to get to the resort already! There wasn't exactly a lot to do on this stupid boat, after all. He'd already tagged every room he could find with his signature – a skull. The only room he hadn't gotten was the captain's room, for obvious reasons. Now, he had nothing to do except twirl his knife in his hand and pace. Duncan sat down, finally. He had far too much pacing experience for his liking. Not much to do in a jail cell. Something this room reminded him far to much of, he decided, and he quickly left for the deck of the boat. Fresh air was a lot better than the cramped waiting room, anyway. No sign of the resort yet, earning a groan of annoyance.

Tyler Foreman was starting to regret his decision of water skiing to the island. It had to have been at least twenty minutes now, and the resort was nowhere in site. His hands had gone cold, hard and numb, and his legs felt the same way. Water was splashing against his face and... other parts and man, was it COLD! This would not end well, he knew it. And he knew his father was expecting him to show how Foremans (Foremen?) were great athletes, but there was no way he was going to make a good impression to the others. Of course, he was sure that his father's words were more wishful thinking than anything else- he had heard the... 'talks' his coaches had with his father. Immediately, he banished those thoughts from his mind -he needed total and complete focus just to stay upright, and those kind of thoughts were distracting and really not helpful.

Harold McGrady (the fifth) was proud to say he wasn't bored at all by the long journey from the mainland to the resort. He was too busy jamming on his electric keyboard. His oldest sister (Petunia) had unintentional gotten ET stuck in his head, and, while he hated Katy Perry, he figured this was the best way to get the song out of his head. The song, unfortunately, served to remind him of his sister, which led to thoughts about home, and a stab of homesickness. Immediately, he stopped playing the song, and began searching his luggage for a deck of cards. His counselor from Muskrat Boys had advised him to get his mind off of things that reminded him of home when he got homesick during the camping trips, so doing some magic tricks he learned at Magic Camp would probably help. Come to think of it, why was he so homesick? His older brother and younger sister -Johnathan and Rosie- didn't like him and it's not like he spent any of his summers at home anyway. His parents and Petunia, he supposed. It's not like he didn't spend three quarters of the year with them.

Ah! There they are!

Trent Cooke strummed on his guitar, nine times. Just to be safe, seeing as how he was kind of... accident prone. That, and he had suffered yet another foul break-up, so his head probably wasn't going to be in the game. It was annoying, and a bit disturbing how girls flocked to him, then broke up with him two months later, exactly two months later, and another girl would immediately begin to hit on him. Was this some sort of agreement by the girls at his school? Were any of them actually interested in him, or were they just interested in the coolest guy in school? Trent shook his head, those kinds of thoughts probably weren't healthy at the moment. Wishing for what wasn't the first time that he'd brought his skateboard, he began to strum on his guitar, and took a breath, ready to begin a new song. But first-

"For granddad..."

Bridgette Fisher was busy standing on her hands, as odd as that may sound. It was quite the chore for her, seeing as how she was horribly uncoordinated on land. She had, however, been doing it for the past nineteen minutes, two more and she would break her own personal-

The crash heralded the fact that that particular record was safe. Bridgette, however, wasn't quite as lucky.

Rubbing her head, she managed to pick herself up, and chuckled at herself. Oh well. She popped an aspirin in her mouth and that was that for the headache. She smiled, happy, as always, that her healing touch extended to herself as well.

Noah Vaidyut (who had sworn on his Kosmic Kaos account to never allow his last name to be heard by a single person on or off the island) was busy with his favorite pastime -reading. Specifically, he was going over one of his siblings college books he had snuck into his bag. Isabel would be enraged, but it wasn't like he hadn't faced her 'torture' before. For a college student, she was completely pathetic. No creativity at all, she was stuck to typical 'harassment', if one could call it that. Pinching, rumor spreading, getting one of his siblings that actually lived in the same house to punch his arm on a daily basis for a week or two... the kind of stuff he'd faced all his life. Everyone he'd ever met had that mentality for some indescribable reason- they were petty. And idiots. It was enough to drive someone of his intelligence to the brink of insanity, but he was proud to say that he'd managed to overcome it with his sanity intact. Which was probably the most difficult challenge he'd ever faced -outside of a video game- seeing as how his parents never allowed him to skip a grade, something he had always found both baffling and horrifying.

He sighed, maybe, just maybe, there would be someone intelligent enough to actually be a companion of sorts on the island, though he sincerely doubted it.

Leshawna Jones was practicing her funky dance-moves, at least for a few minutes. After that, she sat down and revised her letters to her friends, siblings, and that cousin of hers who thought of her as a role model. Satisfied, she began a letter to John -never Johnathan, he hated Johnathan- McGrady, one of the kids she was a counselor for at the old community center. He'd been starting way too many fights with his older sister and younger brother, and dragging his younger sister into them. Leshawna smiled, she'd only just begun to counsel him, and he was a good bit older than her, but he was starting to show improvement. Her thoughts briefly went to the competition she was about to enter. Nervous as she was, she knew she would win, because she was a fighter, who always stuck it out. She would win for her younger siblings, for her cousins, for her gals back home, for her... students, she supposed, back at the community center. And her parents, of course, she couldn't forget them!

Katie Clark was leaning on the loveseat with her best-best-best friend Sadie Stone, who was asleep on her shoulder. She smiled, but kind of hoped that they weren't filming already -there were enough rumors about their sexuality as it was. She glanced over at her best friend, and secretly was a bit proud of herself, she had made their matching outfits herself, and if things continued the way they were, maybe her dream of being a fashion designer would come true. She didn't have to be world-famous or anything, just design clothes and Sadie would sell them, just like at their ice cream shop.

Sadie smiled in her sleep, dreaming of Katie and her when they first met, and when her father had taken them to his favorite shooting range (scaring the two girls, who had been six, out of their wits at the time); of when they started middle school together; of their dreams to be married within a year of each other to the two boys that were perfect for each other... Someone more sweet like Katie for her, and someone more intelligent like her for Katie...

For some reason, both the boys in her dream had dark skin.

Ezekiel Fuller was rocking back and forth in a combination of excitement and terror. It had been forever since he'd actually been with other kids his age for a prolonged period of time. Last time was an hour for a spelling bee he had won and the longest he knew about (he certainly couldn't remember it) was a couple of months for kindergarten (before he had been pulled out).

But that was years ago, and he'd been studying teens for years now, in the magazines he'd found around the house. He hoped it would be enough, and it wouldn't end like kindergarten had. Of course, the money was exceptionally important, but he needed the 'interaction' more, apparently. And, of course, he had to help the girls if they ever needed it.

'Remember Ezekiel,' his father had told him, 'you're strong because of your farm work, eh. Make sure to look after the girls there, and help 'em if they can't keep up.'

He'd make sure to do just that. He wasn't about to stand back and watch someone flail around in need! Even if people seem to do that to him a lot for some reason.

Cody Andersan was a busy flirt, or so he'd like to think. He'd already triple checked to make sure he had deodorant on (there was no way he was repeated that incident from two years ago), he'd taken some of that awful-tasting breath freshener, and he even had his brand-new laptop in his bag. Not that that would actually be of any help picking up any of the girls- except for a rare breed, but still. He shuddered. Breed? Was he thinking like Charles (that awful counselor from camp last year) again? Great, now he had to wash his brain out, and he was fresh out of brain bleach.

Eva Mason was doing what anyone who knew her vaguely well would guess her to be doing, lifting weights while listening to her music. She was also thinking about her competition, she doubted she'd find anyone who would be a challenge physically (if her stunt-work proved anything, it was that she could handle anything) but she had to admit to herself that she could be beaten in terms of mental challenges or anything that would test her temper.

Eva frowned (more), why the heck should she be worried? She'd lock down on her temper, and she'd lead whatever team (if this was anything like Survivor, there'd be teams) she was part of to victory. Unless there were any cheaters, traitors or liars. Then the team would be down one member. Quickly.

Owen Wainwright was resisted the incredibly powerful to jump around like a grasshopper on a sugar rush, even he realized that would probably do damage to the boat. He was so excited! Babes in bikinis, all-you-can-eat (sort of) three times a day, a bunch of new people and his farts could echo all across the lake (it was a camp, so there had to be a lake) He couldn't wait!

Courtney Luz was waiting patiently. This, however, was starting to make her legs cramp up horribly, which resulted in her being forced to get up and walk around, which didn't look nearly as professional. She had to look professional- it would make a good impression and thus increase her chance of winning. She could only imagine how proud her parents would be of her if she won. And besides, if you start something you have to finish, and finish first. That's the most important thing. The island would be no different, not to anyone who matters, and if she could finish first there, she knew she'd be successful in life. And she would. She didn't have any other options.

Justin Lyht was sitting on the loveseat of his boat, looking at his reflection in one of his personal mirrors. And, not for the first time, he felt an odd mix of fascination, amazement, and pride for his looks, and longing and hatred for something, though he didn't know what.

What could he possibly feel longing for? He just had to smile, and anything he wanted would be given to him, and girls (and quite a few guys) would swoon. He could go anywhere, have anything have any girl. What- what could he possibly want that he didn't have? The money he was going to win was the only thing he could think of.

And hate. How was it that he could even feel something like that? It was such an ugly emotion. It just wasn't possible for him to have any unattractive feature, everyone said so. Except that one stupid, crazy, blind redhead he had been on one (blind, literally) date with. But- what else could such a strong feeling of loathing be? And... and, what was it he hated? He didn't know. No one would ever tell him. They never even believed he was capable of something like that. He didn't believe it, either.

Elizabeth Inglis (though it was just Izzy- anything else and you'd wake up in a tree) was prancing around happily. Finally-finally she was going to that crazy summer camp in the middle of northern wherever! Granted, it had taken her three weeks of camping outside that one producer's door, but she got in! She was going to have tons of fun, she just knew it. It wouldn't be like when she spent time with the RCMP, that's for sure. It's not like she meant to blow the base up, and nobody got hurt, they were just sore that they couldn't blow stuff up as easily as she could. Or maybe they weren't, but hey, she had the knack for making exploding stuff! Thinking on it, hadn't she once been thinking about blowing that annoying scratchy jungle gym at the park up once when she was twelve, and then it just... did?

Izzy grinned, she didn't know how she did it, but she didn't doubt that that had been her somehow. Not that she was going to take credit and get arrested, of course. But then, with the RSMP looking for her, it didn't particularly matter. But hey, it might affect how easy (and fun) it was to hide from them!

Chef Darnell Hatchet (who would not under any circumstances allow his first name to be uttered, under penalty of death) stood in an old mess hall, sweeping the floor. At the same time, he was muttering things under his breath, mostly about how he was always getting the short end of the stick when it came to things like this and how he should have just listened to his mother.

Hi! I'm not dead! Hooray!

As you (assuming anyone is reading this) can see, I've decided to rewrite this story, mostly for de-sueifying purposes and more character development. Wish me luck!

Ack, names... Giving all the characters full names? Not fun. Noah's is hilarious though (it's also Hindi for 'electrical').

Foreshadowing and such abound in this chapter, so look carefully! (Or not)

Sorry for the lack of stuff on Owen, but I find him hard to write as a rounded character. Maybe he'll actually gain a personality over the course of the story? {shrugs}