Total Drama Outrage

Chapter 8: Wawanakwa Man

Quick Note: This is my longest chapter yet, not sure if I should have split it in two but whatever, I hope it isn't too loony for you.

"Yo!" Chris Mclean's head intruded into the otherwise pleasant view of the ocean, "long time no see viewing audience, you might be wondering why I didn't get to do a closing monologue last episode. I'm sure all your angry complaints about missing it will arrive by mail very soon. Anyhow, we had some technical difficulties, caused by a useless camera man who has since been FIRED! You can rest assured that the camera will be rolling full time from now on, not suddenly cutting out because a few campers are a little mad at me. So here's a recap for you; last episode the dregs of the gene pool we've come to know as contestants were given the task of fighting lake monsters with the aim of capturing one. Unfortunately our favourite menacing madman Donovan apparently didn't get the memo and tried to kill one of his teammates with a spear instead," Chris shrugged, "hey it happens."

The camera cut away to show a still frame of Donovan out on the raft, Heidi's arm in one hand and a jagged chunk of wood in the other. A huge red circle was drawn around him while Chris spoke in the background, "see, that guy has murder in his eyes, turns out the monstrous mutant fish I set on the campers have nothing on him. Turns out that when he isn't busy attempting to murder his teammates, he's trying to psychologically damage them instead, the reason for Everett's mental decline was Donovan interfering with the kid's psychiatric meds!" The view cut back to Chris standing on the dock. "Thankfully for the ratings, even though the Killer Critics lost that challenge miserably they couldn't vote Donovan off because the honour of eliminating one of those losers was given to Chance instead who decided to boot Maria. Gotta say I like his choice, girl was annoying as hell."

"Mister Mclean!" an intern ran onto the scene holding a sheaf of paper, "urgent notice from the Weather Bureau!"

"Ugh! Did I say you could speak in front of the camera!? I don't think so!" raged Chris, "don't you know that speaking on camera isn't covered in your unpaid intern duties contract? Therefore I now have to pay you something for your appearance! Do you think I can afford that? Do you know how much money it takes to maintain such a perfect image!?"

"No Mister Mclean but you have to know that Weather Bureau has posted a warning about extreme storm activity approaching this area in the coming weeks as well as the probability of anomalous tidal behaviour."

"Dude, it's called 'use an umbrella,' sheesh those clowns at the Weather Bureau predict the end of the world every five minutes, I don't care about that. Now do something useful like fetching me a latte!" The intern scurried out of view and Chris turned back to the smile at the camera. "You don't want to miss this episode folks, will our cast of campers get any more stark raving loony? Will there be yet another attempted murder right in the middle of a challenge? Will people ever stop sending me lawsuits that I continually ignore? Stay tuned because this is Total Drama OUTRAGE."


Killer Critics Cabin: Boy's Side

Like he did pretty much every morning, Donovan was up early lost in one of his meditative trances. Propped on his trunk was the canoe in the bottle that had caused him so much concern previously, still shaking from ceaseless ripples in the water. Unfortunately for Donovan, the waves in the bottle wasn't going to be the only disturbance this morning. Still in the throes of whatever terrible nightmare he was suffering, Matthew sprang out of bed with a cry of rage, swinging his fists around wildly.

"Get these demonic stuffed toys away from me!" he screamed, "there's no end to them!"

"Awaken fool!" snapped Donovan, "must you be consumed by mindless rage even in your sleep?" Matthew blinked several times before slowly lowering his fists, realising that there were no demonic stuffed toys in the room.

"Shut it Donovan! I was angry before I came to this stupid island but every day I spend here just makes it worse because I have to put up with a creep like you! Now I can barely catch a night of sleep without having some freaking nightmare."

"Just as I predicted, you have lost control of your anger. You are no berserker; you are utterly incapable of channelling your rage for any useful purpose."

"I HATE you Donovan!" Matthew lunged at his giant teammate, fist raised to strike. Unlike on the lake however, Donovan was ready for him this time and easily swatted him aside, sending Matthew crashing against one of the bunks.

"Your rage is pointless," Donovan told him, "it only makes you weak, lose it and become strong." Without waiting for Matthew to launch further attacks against him, Donovan picked up his boat in a bottle, put it in his pocket and strode out of the cabin, probably to meditate elsewhere since his peace had been disturbed. Matthew slowly pulled himself upright before walking unsteadily back to his own bunk and slowly sinking to sit on it. He gripped his head in hands and struggled to push the bubbling tide of rage within him back down, the only sound in the room was his ragged breathing.

"I used to like getting angry," he muttered, "but this, this is different and I don't know why."


Outside Killer Critics Cabin

For some reason, the universe seemed to be conspiring against the concept of Donovan ever getting some peace and quiet this morning because no sooner had he stomped down the cabin steps and started to head off towards the woods; Marshall appeared out of nowhere to stand in his path. The young martial artist had a grim expression on his face and it was obvious that he wanted to have words about Donovan's atrocious behaviour towards his own teammates and pretty much anyone else he had to deal with.

"Is he stronger now?" asked Marshall coldly, "is Everett any stronger after you stuffed around with his medication?"

"The Killer Critics, and I presume the Screaming Fans as well, have seen very little of Everett since he found out what was happening so yes, I can only conclude that he has become stronger for the experience," answered Donovan.

"Why? Because he isn't around to irritate you anymore? How is that measure of strength?"

"I have taught him to discover the true conclusion of his paranoia," Donovan said simply, "instead of his foolish fears about aliens and mind control he has learnt that the true threat comes from those around him and isolated himself accordingly.

"You threaten him, and everyone else on his team," retorted Marshall.

"Whether they are overt about or not, everyone wishes you harm, I have realised this and that's why I spend my time alone whenever possible," there was an inflection of irritation in Donovan's voice, making it clear he'd rather be alone right now.

"Whatever, I'm just warning you here and now that no one on this island agrees with your cracked up theories on making people stronger and if the Killer Critics can't get rid of you before merge, the Screaming Fans will see you eliminated before anyone else gets hurt." Donovan only snorted in response to this threat and pushed past Marshall to disappear amongst the trees. Marshall watched him until he vanished before slowly walking off, as if the confrontation had taken a lot out of him. There was something about Donovan and the strength of his convictions that made trying to get through to him a daunting and exhausting task, one that no one on the island had yet managed to succeed in.


Killer Critics Cabin: Girl's Side

"Come on Wolfy, can you detect if there's any trace of Maria left in this room?" asked Heidi, kneeling beside a curled up Wolf. "I know the interns took her stuff away but Chris might have instructed them to leave behind an item Donovan booby trapped." Wolf blinked at Heidi several times before shaking her head and closing her eyes tightly, trying to get back to sleep.

"Why would Donovan booby trap something of Maria's?" asked Lauren, "you're the one that argues with him all the time aren't you? Or was that someone else? I can never quite remember."

"You've heard Donovan going on about how he'll make sure we all leave this island stronger than we were before and right now it's looking like he favourite method is fiddling with our stuff!" exclaimed Heidi, getting back to her feet and waving her arms around expressively. "He might have done something to Maria's stuff but she got eliminated before it was revealed! And if it was something horrible you just know that Chris would leave it behind so one of us would find it instead!"

"Hmm," Lauren pondered this for a moment before shaking her head sagely, "I think you're reading too much into the whole belongings theory, I mean it worked against Larry and Everett but there's no reason to think that's his only method. You have to logically consider his targets to figure out how he might get to them."

"There's no logic involved," snorted Heidi, "he got Chris to steal Larry's stuff on the off chance it would be make him angry beyond reason and apparently decided that making Everett more loopy than a Scouts knot tying class would be good for his health! For all we know he could have stuffed Maria's bag full of deadly scorpions."

"Actually since he kept calling her the 'monotonous one' he probably thought she had a problem with her emotions. Maybe he figured that she'd realise she cared about her teammates when she got eliminated and didn't feel the need to interfere?"

"Oh yeah, I can totally see Donovan believing that people get stronger through the power of friendship," drawled Heidi, "he can't think up a single plan that doesn't involve hurting someone and I won't let him get me, I'm practically checking my belongings every five minutes to make sure nothing has been taken or moved around. Hey, have you checked your stuff Lauren?"

"Nope," Lauren shrugged before staring absently out the window, "I don't even know what I packed in there, could be a tank of dangerous scorpions for all I know."

"Ugh, you've left a gaping hole in our security!" groaned Heidi, "Wolf!" she repeatedly prodded the girl with her finger with little effect. "I need you to go over there and sniff out anything dangerous that might have been planted on Lauren!" Wolf finally stirred, growling angrily and snapping her teeth at Heidi. "Ok then, geez, no need to get snappy about it. Ha! Snappy, see what I did there?"

"No, did you write it down?" asked Lauren, still staring blankly out the window.

"My talents are wasted here, they really are."


Deep in the woods of Wawanakwa

When Donovan had said that the Killer Critics had seen very little of Everett since he attended Maria's elimination he'd actually been slightly over exaggerating. They hadn't seen very little of Everett, they hadn't seen him at all since he'd been spending the gap in between challenges apparently living in the woods, as if sleeping on a roof was bizarre enough for him. Right now he was creeping through the trees, decked out in his custom made camo gear which was actually just his normal clothing with a few leaves and branches duct taped to it. His face was striped with 'war' paint that he'd stolen from the arts and crafts building and he was talking rapidly into a recording device as he walked.

"Day 784, or 785, I'm losing track of time out here in the wilderness. I feel as if I'm just walking in circles without getting anywhere. This may be because I'm on an island and it's physically impossible to leave on foot but I'm inclined to believe this is the result of a series of hallucinations spawned by the evil one disturbing my medication. I've fixed my dosages but I fear that serious damage may have been done and therefore for the safety of the other contestants I have withdrawn from society. Years have passed me by while I have lived in these wild lands, I've been gone for so long_" Everett's words were drowned out by the whirring blades of helicopter hovering above the treetops. A newspaper dropped down from the flying vehicle and hit a thoroughly confused Everett on the head before unfurling so the boy could make out the date. "What, I've only been out here for a few days? Impossible!"

"Oh it's possible dude," Chris Mclean's voice boomed out from a megaphone as the host leaned out the helicopter door to look down at Everett. "Sorry to take you away from loony land but it's kinda time to resume the show. Chef, release the Claw of Doom!"

"Heh heh," Chef sniggered from where he was driving the helicopter, "I never got to play this game as a kid," he pulled back on a lever and giant metal claw descended from the bottom of the helicopter and clamped around the stunned Everett. Chef barely winched him above the treetops before leaving him hanging beneath the helicopter. "Should we drop him off by the lake?"

"Nah, let's take him along for a few laps around the island and just drop him off when we're ready to start the challenge," suggested Chris, "I want to make sure that problem with the rotor blades has been fixed properly." The helicopter roared away, dragging Everett beneath it, the boy shouting furiously for them to let him down the whole time. No one took much notice other than a few birds who wondered why humans had to make such a fuss about flying. Maybe it was something to do with the fact they didn't have wings and were far more likely to plunge to a horrible death on the ground below?


The Scream of Disgust: Screaming Fans Team Meeting

Turns out it wasn't the universe that was conspiring against Donovan, rather it was the Screaming Fans who had put Marshall up to threatening him. The young martial artist had just returned to join his teammates and report the rather predictable outcome of his mission. "He's not fazed in the slightest; the guy is really convinced he's going to the final two no matter what he does. Warning him that he's likely to be eliminated isn't going to stop him doing dangerous stuff to other contestants, I don't know why I had to go and talk to him anyway."

"You had to talk to him because psychic Alice told us you had the best chance of convincing him to stop being a lunatic," Sandra said drily, "I was all for forcibly carting him off the island before he manages to kill someone."

"I was just making a suggestion based on how Donovan respects strength more than anything else," Alice told them, "I lost my powers ago, I wish they'd come back already."

"Well you were on the wrong track," said Marshall, "he doesn't think I'm strong because I refuse to randomly fight people. You'd have been better off sending Chance since he clotheslined Matthew right after he arrived."

"Don't bring me into this," protested Chance, "if he didn't listen to the guy who kicks boards in half he's not likely to listen to me just because I tripped Matthew over."

"Look, he can't be reasoned with, can I just arrest him now?" asked Stacey, "We've got enough hard evidence to charge him with Theft if nothing else."

"If you'll forgive me for saying so, I don't think that would end well," Cynthia told her, "he doesn't take kindly to your police routine and he's likely to arrest resist."

"I'll have backup! Right Marshall?" the martial artist shook his head.

"I've already told you, I don't fight unless lives are at stake."

"Ugh! Obstruction of Justice! He could have poisoned Everett; doesn't that count as risking lives?"

"That wasn't his intention and fighting wouldn't have fixed anything if he had."

"Everyone needs to relax," Chance announced, "he's not willing to stop his mad schemes, so what, there's no way the Killer Critics won't eliminate him at the first opportunity."

"I know you're a gambler but even I wouldn't bet on Chris not interfering with the game to make sure Donovan sticks around to boost ratings," said Sandra. "I mean he's done some crazy stuff before, remember when he eliminated a random coconut rather than a contestant? He could just as easily do that here."

"You have to remember that Mister Mclean did that mostly because Owen thought Mr Coconut was real," Cynthia pointed out.

"I miss Mr Coconut," Alice added randomly, "he was one of the nicest players and he should have won."

"You do realise that Mr Coconut was killed by Chef right?" asked Marshall, "because he was seriously hacked in half by a meat cleaver."

"Mr Coconut lives on in the hearts of those who believe in him," said Alice solemnly.

"Thanks for that Alice, I'm sure Mr Coconut will save us when Donovan gets to merge and starts targeting US," Sandra snapped in annoyance. "I don't know about you but I'd rather that thug didn't try to make me stronger if I can avoid it."

"Listen, it's like I said earlier," Chance told them, "we need to relax, let's just win every challenge until merge and this problem with Donovan will just resolve itself."

"Just win every challenge?" scoffed Marshall, "you forget that Chris is a maniac and half the time doesn't even tell you how to win or pulls random rules out of thin air_"

"Good morning losers!" Chris' voice rang out of the speakers placed all over the island, his voice distorted more than usual by the fact muffled shouting could be heard in the background. "Gross, I think he's going to be sick," muttered Chris before realising he was still live. "Sorry having some slight technical difficulties at the moment, uh, wind is making noises. Anyway you'll be glad to know that this challenge might not even involve life threatening danger!? Double-time it straight to the arts and crafts centre for more information which you will receive whenever I figure out how to get back to the island, I told you to do laps Chef! Why can I only see ocean!? Do you think I can host my show in Atlantis?" His words were followed by several seconds of Chef's muffled complaints and shouting in the background before the microphone finally cut out.


Confessional

Alice: Well that wasn't ominous at all was it? Chris says there is no life threatening danger but we can all hear someone calling for help in the background. You don't need psychic powers to tell that something isn't adding up there. I was rather hoping Chris had gotten over his 'subject contestants to blatant torture and claim it's a challenge' phase.

Marshall: peacefully meditating as he speaks; there is no pain; only our brain telling the nervous system that something hurts, therefore one can decide to ignore pain. Theoretically that is, I know those monks can ignore cold weather but I haven't quite managed it yet.

Heidi: I swear Donovan must be related to Chris or something, they're both sadistic lunatics. Sounded like he was torturing some intern out there, bad enough he doesn't feed them but that is just too much. What's he going to get us to do at the Arts and Crafts Building? Build torture devices? By the way, I hope Everett shows up, we could do with a full team.

Lauren: Oh I've been waiting for another artistic challenge ever since I got to paint our restaurant Killer Food Poisoning! It's about time I got to utilise my creative talents, I hope I get to do some sketches, one of the interns is wearing a really neat Halloween mask I wouldn't mind a picture of. The voice of the random crew member manning the microphones while Chris is lost over the ocean chimes in with "That's his actual face." Oh sorry about that.

Matthew: Ugh, don't you hate it when you get lost in video games and the map the game gives you is absolutely useless? Sure I'll turn the quest in to that NPC, if only I knew WHERE THE HELL HE WAS! Seriously, am I expected to use mystic powers? I play as a barbarian not a Psion or a wizard. By the way, I could really do with some coffee right now, I feel tired and foggy no matter how much I sleep. This island obviously inflicts a curse of insanity upon its inhabitants.

Chance: Just saying, but the odds of today's challenge not including life threatening danger are pretty low. I mean even in our restaurant challenge Donovan started throwing furniture at Marshall and Billy and Isaac managed to practically blow up the kitchen. I swear it still smells of smoke in there even after all this time, though that might be something to do with Sandra conducting mad science experiments in there. She's trying to invent a new toast topping or something, it's better not to ask.


Outside The Arts and Crafts Centre

The remaining campers had been assembled in their two separate groups, well technically three if you counted Donovan standing by himself, for several minutes with no sign of Chris or any sort of challenge related materials before they saw something rather bizarre. From their current distance it looked as though Everett had attained the power of flight and was hovering along beneath a rapidly moving cloud of smoke. Everyone on the ground had to a startled double take before they realised that Everett was in fact suspended by a metal claw and the flying cloud of smoke was just a helicopter disguised by one of Chris Mclean's obnoxiously powerful smoke machines. "Special delivery from the land of loonies!" Called out Chris as the smoke concealed helicopter stopped above the campers, "one paranoid lunatic for the Killer Critics!"

Thankfully the claw had been lowered a fair distance before Chris gave the order for Chef to release him but the boy still had quite a drop and crashed in a tangle heap amongst his teammates. His cap had been blown off some point during the trip, most his camouflage gear seemed to be caught in his hair, his war paint had been smudged and his face was a rather vibrant shade of green. "Is he copying my look?" Alice asked loudly, "because I only dyed my hair green and I used flowers not leaves anyway."

"Don't be ridiculous!" said Matthew, the boy moving over to try and help Everett get back on his feet. "He's obviously roleplaying as a Druid who has taken levels in Levitation and Terrifying Presence and_" Matthew suddenly forgot what he was doing in favour of slapping his forehead in frustration, letting Everett slump wearily back to his knees. "I forgot to buy that Ever Sharp Axe for my barbarian before I came to this stupid island! Unbelievable, how could I forget!?"

"Quite easily judging by the fact you just dropped Everett," complained Heidi, walking over to help her teammate up instead since Matthew was currently busy ranting about his endless video games. "I like the new look Everett, it suits you."

"Thanks," mumbled Everett, "It looked a lot better before I was captured by an evil robot from the sky."

"Um no that was Chris Mclean," Heidi told him, "unfortunately he is still classed as a human."

"I'm rather sure Everett left his medicine behind when he wandered off, he hasn't taken it for days," observed Lauren.

"The dosages were all messed up," Everett managed to say before he had to pause to take several deep breaths before he became very ill, "I fixed them as best as I could and decided to let the incorrect amounts leave my system before I start taking them again." Wolf barked approvingly and offered him a nod as if she had any idea what he was talking about.

"So you will not even try to live without them," asked Donovan, who despite his massive size had managed to approach, unnoticed. "It remains to be seen whether this experience has strengthened you at all."

"Shove off Donovan," growled Everett, "do you have any idea how messed up what you did was? How badly wrong it could have gone?"

"Obviously not badly enough!" called Chris Mclean, who had finally managed to shut his infernal smoke machine off and parachute down to the ground. "Now can we get to the most important matter here? The challenge? Interns! Unleash the mobile homes!" Two of what seemed to be extremely souped up Go-Karts each hauling the aforementioned mobile homes rumbled out from where they'd been mysteriously hidden and pulled up one on each side of the arts and crafts building before the interns driving them quickly scurried off camera.

"The Wawanakwa?" asked Sandra incredulously as she read the bold lettering on both mobile homes. "Please don't tell me you've started up your own brand of motorised homes."

"Indeed I have," Chris announced proudly, "The Wawanakwa is the king of caravans, the ruler of RVs and the monarch of motor homes all over the world. After the rousing success of my airline adverts, I've_"

"I didn't give you permission to air an advertisement containing my voice or image!" declared Stacey, "not only have you infringed on my rights but you owe all of us royalties on any revenue gain in conjunction with the advertisement we appeared."

"Yeeeahh, how about no? There's a clause in your contracts that quite clearly states that you will get zilch of any profits. Only the winner of this show will be receiving any money, roughly one million dollars depending on how much of gets lost when we open the briefcase in high wind locations. Now, as I was saying, your challenge today is to create a masterful advert for The Wawanakwa Mobile Home which I will then judge and declare one as the best. For this task I have provided you with the latest in video and still frame camera technology," Chris clicked his fingers and two interns reappeared from hiding to throw a hefty looking video camera at each team. "And a laptop that comes with editing software for you upload your footage to and design the final product," another couple of interns appeared to hurl some clunky old laptops to each team. "Oh an because I'm so generous I'll throw in a couple of USBs or Universal Serial Buses if you're a genius like me. Any questions?"

"Yeah, why the hell did you give us ENIAC?" asked Chance, holding up the laptop he'd caught, "could you get any cheaper than this?"

"ENIAC was supposed big enough to fill a room you know," Sandra told him, "and it was really only a glorified calculator anyhow."

"Uh, yeah what she said," added Chris rather unhelpfully, "you can film your adverts at any location on the island, provided you can drag the motor home with you on the Super Powered Go-Karts I brought off those pirates I'm always dealing with. Either myself or Chef will turn up at a completely random time known as whenever I get bored of waiting for you to finish and then you'll report back here at sundown to watch both adverts on a big screen. The losing team WILL send someone home so do make some effort, ok guys? Now time for my morning massage, later losers!"

"MINE!" Heidi shouted and jumped into the Killer Critic's Super Power Go-Kart. "Next stop, beach party on Vanuatu."

"Oh, I didn't know you could sail across the ocean in a Go-Kart while dragging a caravan behind you," said Lauren, "how interesting, you learn something new every day."

"Like growing depths of human stupidity," growled Donovan, moving until he was standing right in front of Go-Kart. "As the only one left on this team with any interest on winning this challenge I will be making the decisions here. You will go nowhere."

"I'll run you over!" insisted Heidi, "don't think that I won't."

"I'm standing right in front of the cart; you will not have the sufficient speed to do any harm to me."

"You wanna bet?"

"Just reverse, drive at him then do a sharp right turn so the mobile home whips around and crushes Donovan like a bug," suggested Matthew, "I HATE Donovan."

"Your homicidal urges do not scare me," Donovan didn't budge, the Killer Critics weren't going anywhere for the moment. Surprisingly it was Wolf of all people who broke the stalemate, sneaking up on Donovan and stealing the ship in a bottle out of his pocket without the boy even noticing until Everett pointed it out.

"I think Wolf wants to play fetch with that toy ship you like to stare at, you might want to stop her." Donovan whirled around and saw Wolf holding the bottle with a cheeky grin on her face. Before he had time to react she turned tail and pelted headlong towards the trees, Donovan giving chase several startled seconds later.

"Wolf is officially the coolest camper ever;" said Heidi, "right that down in your book of quotes."

"I thought that was you?" asked Everett, "or am I confused again?"

"Yeah, I'm the awesomest camper which is totally different from the coolest. Now, see you all at the beach guys!" Heidi cheered as she motored off in the direction of the beach, the Wawanakwa mobile home bouncing along behind the Go-Kart.

"Anyone else get the feeling that the universe no longer makes any sense?" asked Sandra from where the Screaming Fans were just watching the scene unfold wordlessly. "I mean why do we always fall into this trap, we know that the Killer Critics are going doing something insane but we still watch them and get distracted."

"I believe the sheer mass of their lunacy creates a sort of visual well that drags the gaze of all bystanders over to them," guessed Cynthia, watching as the remaining Killer Critics departed the area, particularly Matthew stumbling confusedly in the completely wrong direction several times before he was able to successfully follow his teammates. "It is a rather interesting phenomenon."

"Ok, prepare yourselves for the greatest idea in the history of idea," Chance announced, ending the curious discussion as how mad the Killer Critics were. "We handle this like an investment, high risk, high reward."

"So basically you think that if we film in a dangerous place the mystical forces of the universe will miraculously allow us to make an advert superior to that of Killer Critics?" asked Marshall.

"Pretty much," replied Chance, "I was thinking_"

"I will not allow anything to be filmed in Grizzly Bear's Cave!" snapped Sandra, "that's reckless endangerment and you know it!"

"As if, the Grizzly Bear was beaten up by Everett of all people, that's way too tame. I was thinking of a far more implacable enemy_"

"The legendary behemoth of deeps that is approaching this island as we speak?" interrupted Alice, "because I wouldn't go near that if I were you."

"No! Gravity!" snapped Chance, "I'm talking about gravity!"

"He means the thousand foot cliff," Sandra told them when no one else seemed to figure out what he's on about, "I'm fine with that, we can see the beach from up there so we can keep an eye on the Killer Critics in case they get any really good ideas."

"That's hardly sporting," pointed out Cynthia, "I don't think we should spy on the other team at all, poor form that is."

"It's the spying you have a problem with?" asked Alice, sounding rather surprised, "I thought your sense of honour would have been more offended by the fact you're going to have to tell lies about Chris Mclean's low budget death trap of a motor home and trick innocent families into buying it."

"I see," Cynthia said coldly, "I hadn't thought of it like that," she drew herself up to her full height and stuck her nose in the air, "I won't be part of anything like that, you'll have to excuse me from this challenge." Lauren spun on her heels smartly and stalked off in the most dignified way possible. "I shall find a way of occupying myself that is not so dishonest."

"Funny," muttered Sandra, "she didn't seem to mind tricking Everett into voting Larry off the island."

"You rigged the first vote!?" exclaimed Marshall, "What the hell is wrong with you people, don't you know Chris can easily show footage of that to turn people against you?"

"I had nothing to do with that," Stacey said smugly, "I know that it's against the law to engage in espionage."

"You lot are as bad as pack of drunk senior citizens playing Gin Rummy," scoffed Chance, "I'm going to drive the RV up to the thousand foot cliff. Feel free to join me later if you feel like actually taking part in the challenge." Before anyone could argue Chance was driving the Go-Kart away, apparently infinitely optimistic about being able to pull a caravan all the way up the thousand foot cliff."

"We're going to end up pushing that all the way up the hill aren't we?" groaned Marshall, "I hate this day already."


Confessional

Cynthia: Appearing in advertisements is far too tacky for someone of my stature; thankfully Alice gave me an excuse to dodge this challenge, better than the spying one I was going to use anyway. Besides, if our team fails horribly I'll have had nothing to do with it. Unless they want to bring up hypothetical situations in which me being there would have prevented such failure but getting out of such an uncivilised challenge is worth the risk. I can handle being an air hostess or fishing for monsters but I will not be involved in some horrid advert.


Still at the Arts and Crafts Centre only devoid of campers this time around

The moment he was sure that all campers were safely out of sight and earshot, Chris and his personal camera crew returned to the area. "Ha! How gullible are those campers? As if I'm going for my massage now, it isn't scheduled for another ten minutes. Now, what I forgot," Chris made quotation marks with his fingers as he said the word 'forgot', "to tell the campers is that challenge is actually inspired by the angriest man on Earth, a guy so enraged he makes Matthew look like a Buddhist monk! In fact, if he knew that we were airing this he'd probably smash his television in a fit of rage. So while our contestants are trying to film an advert for a mobile home, not only are the vans rigged as hell, I've also got a whole stack of tricks prepared to mess with them and drive them completely bananas. Of course, I'll be letting Chef and the interns handle all that of course, I really do have to get to my massage this time!"


The Beach: AKA the Killer Critic's Film Set

The Killer Critics initial enthusiasm for the challenge, well it was more of case of Heidi being enthusiastic about going to the beach, appeared to have stalled as no one was doing much work at the moment. Heidi appeared to have fallen asleep on the sand and Matthew was busy raging at the crappy laptop Chris had given him; he'd rebooted it five times now and was still getting the Blue Screen of Death despite his best efforts (smashing his fists against the keyboard.) Donovan still wasn't back from searching among the trees for wherever the hell Wolf had dropped his precious ship in a bottle and speaking of Wolf, Lauren was helping her build a sandcastle. Everett was wandering up and down the beach, video camera held up to lens of his sunglasses as he was mucking around with the camera settings and mumbling to himself as he went.

"So, enhance brightness, ultra magnification and_" a sudden triumphant shout from Matthew caused Everett to lose concentration and he accidentally pointed the camera right at the sun. "My eyes are burning out of my head! Sunglasses failing to shield me!" he shouted, dropped the camera and stumbled backwards, rubbing his eyes furiously. "Abort, abort, I'm dying here!"

"You're dying?" demanded Matthew furiously, "SIX times I had to reboot this laptop before it finally started working, there'd better be some good games on this." Unfortunately, when Matthew looked to see what programs were installed he only found one labelled as AWESOME. Upon running it a picture of Chris Mclean filled the screen and a tinny laugh sound effect started playing. "No way! I HATE Chris Mclean!" Matthew angrily kicked the laptop, sending it spinning across the sand to stop right beside the sleeping Heidi. Apparently thinking the laugh sound effect was some sort of alarm clock, Heidi mumbled something and slammed her fist down on the top of screen, closing the laptop and stopping the laugh.

"Why'd you have to wake me up?" she groaned, "have you finished filming the advert yet?"

"Everett appears to have some footage of us building a sandcastle," Lauren helpfully, "is that what the advert is?" Actually, Everett just happened to be pointing it in their general direction rather than deliberately filming them as he stood there like a statue waiting for his vision to return to something a little better than a bright blur.

"I think we were supposed to film that caravan," said Heidi, "Everett, point the camera at that instead."

"Uh where is it exactly?"

"Turn slightly to the left, that's it! Now Matthew, go stand in front of the motor home and say something funny," ordered Heidi, "adverts need to be funny or else nobody cares about them." Matthew slouched over to stand in front of the Wawanakwa Motor Home, stared silently into the camera for several seconds before finally shouting:

"DISCOMBOBULATED! FRUIT LOOPS! NUN CHUCKS! CAMOMILE CHEESE!"

"I believe it's actually camomile tea, not cheese," Lauren corrected him.

"I'll tell you what all this is, pure foolishness!" spat Donovan, emerging from the trees after having finally found his ship in a bottle. "Laziness and incompetence, you have parked the caravan below the tideline and will only end up swamped."

"Oh get out of it Donovan, there's nothing wrong with where I parked the mobile home," protested Heidi. "I'm not moving it anyway."

"Then I shall move it myself."

"It's disconnected from the Go-Kart you dummy."

"Did I say anything about using the Go-Kart?" The others could only watch with a sort of fascinated horror as Donovan walked behind the camper van and threw his strength against it. There was groaning lurch as the whole vehicle shuddered against the impact and the sand around its wheels was sent flying. With it positioned weakened, Donovan began to push against the back of the caravan.

"I don't think so!" snarled Matthew as he charged the front of the vehicle with his arms outstretched, pushing in that direction to counter Donovan. As a result the mobile home was caught in a backwards version of Tug-Of-War and was going nowhere fast. At least Everett was still filming it, even though he had no idea what was going on. Matthew shifted to slam his shoulder against the front of caravan instead and with a sudden click the hood popped open and a boxing glove on a spring shot out and clocked the enraged boy.

"Ha!" Donovan sneered triumphantly, "only a fool such as you would fall victim to such a_" while he'd been speaking Donovan had stopped pushing and was casually leaning against the ladder that climbed up the back of the mobile home to allow you to reach the roof. Unfortunately this also appeared to be rigged because it gave of a horrific creaking sound and Donovan was force to leap aside before the thing toppled on him.

"Woohoo! Good advert team!" Heidi clapped briefly before flopping back down onto the sand to resume her nap. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

"Not unless you know how to sleep with one eye open," warned Donovan, his sour mood not all improved by a ladder nearly crushing him.

"I'll fight you Donovan!" groaned Matthew from where he was sprawled on the sand, "just give a me a couple of minutes so the stars go away first."

"Oh dear," Lauren gave up on her sandcastle building attempt and stood up to survey the scene. Wolf whined questioningly, pointing at the half finished sandcastle. "Sorry Wolf, but I think we ought to help our team out with this challenge, they seem to be having some trouble."

"Why has the world gone purple?" asked Everett as he wandered past them, camera pointed at the ground. Wolf watched him for a moment before nodding in agreement. Even she could tell that this wasn't how you were supposed to win a challenge.


Roughly Near the Top of the Thousand Foot Cliff: AKA Screaming Fans Film Set

While the Killer Critics hadn't made much of start in the process of filming their advert, at least they'd reach their filming location and done something, even if it was just filming Donovan and Matthew fighting over a mobile home. The Screaming Fans were only just arriving now, after all of them had just been forced to push the motor home the remaining distance up the cliff after the Go-Kart predictably died from the strain of it all. Considering they'd just completed a gruelling trek up the hillside pushing a caravan along inch by inch none of them really felt like getting straight to work anyhow, most of them slumping down onto the grass in exhaustion. The only one of them that seemed to have any energy left at all was Marshall but that was to be expected since he was fitness freak. In the sense that he was fit, not that he displayed any freakish qualities in case you were wondering, the other campers were more than making up for that.

"I knew that was going to happen," he told Chance bitterly, "I don't care how super-powered that Go-Kart was, it was not going to pull a motor home up to the top of the thousand foot cliff."

"I took a risk and it hasn't immediately paid off," replied Chance from where he relaxing on the ground, "trust me this will all work out when we film the greatest advert of all time."

"And people used to complain that my predictions were crazy," observed Alice, "the shoe is on the other foot now. Speaking of feet, mine really hurt. I wish Cynthia hadn't run off, we could have used her help with the caravan."

"As if Greeny," shot Sandra, "you and I both know that everyone's favourite princess would rather die than help us push a caravan up a hill like a commoner."

"Don't be so harsh; just because she doesn't want to tell lies for Chris Mclean doesn't mean she isn't a team player," protested Alice, "In fact I'm not so keen on appearing in the advert myself. This product is probably sponsored by pirates."

"False advertising is a crime!" announced Stacey, "I won't have any part in it, not one word!"

"But you will just stand there while it goes on?" asked Marshall, "I'm fairly sure that's illegal too, you'll be an accessory."

"Shut it!" hissed Chance, "do you want to go nuts and start arresting us?"

"She's only got one set of handcuffs as far as I know; she may as well arrest the idiot who suggested we go up this damn cliff."

"If we start losing challenges I won't be able to win the million and stop criminals from getting a hold of it so for now I'll just say I'm gathering evidence of the crime before staging an arrest at a later date." Stacey offered generously. "Don't push it too far; I don't want to hear any blatant lies."

"Then you'd better plug your ears because pretty much all of advertising is just blatant lies," Sandra told her, "either that or just plain ignoring massive flaws in the product."

"That's really not helping!" snapped Chance, "Look you can just go on camera and say the windscreen wipers are really good or something." As if on cue, both windscreen wipers chose this exact moment to snap off and go flying over the edge of the cliff as though a poltergeist had savagely attacked them. "Ok I swear that was unnatural, Sandra, could we get a rational explanation for that pronto before I ask Alice to perform an exorcism?"

"It's not exactly rational but the most likely hypothesis as to why we would suddenly experience a surge in pseudo demonic activity would be: 'Chris Mclean Did It,'" suggested Sandra, you can generally blame him for anything evil that goes on around here."

"That's interesting," mused Alice, "is Chris Mclean also responsible for that gradually intensifying buzzing sound that is approaching our location because it sounds sort of similar to a fly and I didn't think Chris was a shape shifter." Everyone present paused to listen for whatever Alice was talking about and sure enough there was an obnoxiously loud buzzing sound approaching their location though whatever was making the noise was concealed amongst the trees.

"Sounds more like a giant mutant fly to me," said Marshall, "I knew this challenge wasn't nearly dangerous enough to be real. Chris must have set mutants on us."

"Actually," started Sandra, her face rather pale as she spoke, "if you'll note the discordance of the buzzing you can theorise that rather than one entity generating the noise there are several. And when I several I mean a veritable horde of them. We're talking plague proportions." No one bothered to speak after she finished, partly because they probably wouldn't have been heard anyway, since the buzzing was now deafening, and she was soon proven right as the source of the noise emerged from the trees. A massive swarm of flies that looked far too large to be natural billowed out towards them like a noxious disease-ridden cloud of darkness. The Screaming Fans came to a silent unanimous decision and all bolted for the motor home door like their feet were on fire. Chance, being the closest reached the steps first was halfway up them before a slick of oil suddenly oozed from them, tripping him up.

"Ouch! What in the_" without missing a beat his teammates proceeded to Chance as a ramp to safely ascend the stairs which Marshall going up last and quickly pulling him inside before Stacey slammed the door such behind them. The swarm of flies descended up the van and pressed against every window, plunging the interior into darkness as they buzzed and tapped against the glass. "Thanks for trampling me to death," groaned Chance, breaking the terrified silence, "really appreciate it."

"Sorry, those flies are demonic, we had to get in here as fast as possible," said Alice, "uh, they can't get in here can they?" she asked worriedly.

"No," Marshall said firmly, even though he really didn't know what they were capable of at all, "we'll just bunker down in here until they get bored and leave."

"I don't think they have the mental capacity for boredom," Sandra informed as she opened up the fridge to find supplies for time in hiding. Unfortunately the only thing in the fridge appeared to be a massive jug of bleach. "That's not suitable for human consumption, but I can use it for something." Without asking what exactly Sandra would need a jug of bleach for, Stacey just tried opening one of the cupboards instead hoping for better luck. Unfortunately it contained only a box of rat poison.

"Why does Chris have all these toxic chemicals lying around his motor home?" demanded Stacey, "I'd say that there's a high probability that this van was to be used for criminal purposes."

"Not anymore, everyone look for more poison, I'm going to make a toxic weapon capable of killing the entire swarm of flies," Sandra told them proudly as she collected the largest pot she could and placed it on the stovetop.

"Uh huh and how long is that going to take? "asked Chance, "cause you know there's barely enough to light to see in here and those flies could get in any minute now."

"Then find the light switch!" snapped Sandra, concentrating on pouring bleach, "this should only take a few hours. Not accounted for the time we'll have to stay inside so the weapon doesn't kill us as well."

"We must really like the idea of horrible death," observed Marshall, "why the hell else would we let Sandra come up with plans like this?"

"Because I'm a genius," she replied, "deal with it."


Confessional

Chef: Boy am I glad Chris finally found something to do with those mutant flies; I was getting darn sick of them escaping their cage and infesting my kitchen. Not to mention all the cabins, and the communal washroom and every other place the campers visit. Must be filthy out there, I'm surprised the campers haven't all caught prehistoric diseases yet.


The Beach: AKA the Killer Critic's Film Set

Lauren had retrieved the camera from Everett, deciding that having a cameraman who could probably barely see through his dark sunglasses wasn't such a good idea but the Killer Critics still hadn't made much progress even with her operating the camera. They mostly had random video clips that were unrelated to the motor home in question like Heidi telling nonsensical stories about how popular she was and Everett giving lectures on various paranormal happenings. At the moment Lauren was trying to film Donovan, trying being the operative word since the hulking boy seemed to dislike being on camera and was constantly moving. When he did eventually stop running away he just started making his usual threats.

"I understand very little of the operations of that infernal device but I care little for what I have heard. They say it can capture light itself and I will not have it pointed in my direction," he snarled. "If you continue trying to drain my life force with it you will not like the consequences. I'm warning you, I will end you very soon."

"I HATE Donovan!" screamed Matthew randomly dashing in front of Donovan waving a burning stick around, "burn the witch!" Matthew suddenly seemed to realise there was filming going on and swore loudly, throwing his burning torch away. "Oh sorry, did I walk through that shot?" he asked Lauren.

"Yes but it wasn't very good anyway, unless Donovan stands there and threatens to end the audience if they don't buy the caravan I don't think it's what we're looking for in this challenge. How'd you light the stick on fire by the way?"

"DUH! Obviously I used a combustion reaction, how else do you ignite something?"

"Oh, was it spontaneous combustion?"

"Actually it was laser from the sky," Everett announced seriously, "it kept shining in Matthew's eyes but he didn't seem to notice until the beam focused on the stick he was holding and managed to set it alight."

"It was probably just some solid gold watch Chris owns reflecting in the sunlight," Suggested Heidi, "a laser would have burnt his eyes out. Now turn the camera onto me Lauren, I have this GREAT idea for the advert!" Heidi strolled over to one of the compartment doors along the side of the caravan and lifted it up with some difficulty before turning back to face the camera and signalling for Lauren to begin filming. "Just LOOK at the size of these storage compartments!" she gushed, voice full of false enthusiasm, "Do you have any idea just how many party supplies you could stash in there? Like, enough for a week and_" Heidi gestured wildly and for a brief moment her hand was in the shadow of the open door just as it decided to slam violently closed. The remainder of Lauren's footage consisted of Heidi jumping around in pain waving her injured hand around while she swore profusely.

"And that's the self-closing compartment door," finished Lauren rather lamely as she continued to film Heidi hurling herself into the water in the hope it would make her crushed hand hurt less. With her out of commission the Killer Critics supply of actors was running rather low, Donovan had vanished again, Matthew was just sitting there repeatedly slamming his head against the laptop's keyboard and Wolf was chasing Everett around in circles, apparently trying to steal another piece of origami he'd made.

"Stop stealing my paper cryptids and using them as a mattress!" complained Everett as broke out of the circle he'd been running in and made a dash for the shoreline instead. For a moment Lauren thought that he was going to try and escape by sea but she realised what he was planning when the boy seized a stick of driftwood hurled into the woods. Wolf instantly lost interest in the origami and bolted off to retrieve the stick. "Works every time! What the hell kind of wilderness was she raised in where she was trained to chase sticks though? Some sort of secret society of woodland hermits?"

"Oh she just likes chasing things," said Lauren, "that's a normal predatory instinct, like how cats play with their food."

"But she's not a cat, she's a wolf."

"Not really, Chris just called her that, anyway, do you want to help me film this advert? Everyone else seems to be a little busy?"

"Sure!" agreed Everett enthusiastically, "I'll film a segment on the effectiveness of the door as an escape route." He darted over to the mobile home and climbed the steps to stand in front of the door before waiting for Lauren to point the camera at him. "You may ask, am I safe if my camper van has only one entrance and exit? This sort of situation might lead to you getting trapped rather easily. Luckily, The Wawanakwa also contains a sunroof allowing you to escape onto the roof and then disembark from any direction you choose. If you don't mind leaping off the top of the van that is. Which why is you can use the bed sheets in there to make a parachute_" Everett was cut off by a bone chilling howl as Wolf suddenly burst back out of the trees, holding the driftwood he had thrown. "Oh crap!" Everett heaved the caravan door open and hurled himself inside, slamming it shut behind him. Mere moments later Wolf was pounding on the door with her fists, howling mournfully.

"I don't think Everett wants to play fetch anymore," Lauren called over to her, "I think you might have scared him." Wolf stopped pounding on the door and gave out a low, sad whine.

"I'm sure you didn't mean to but he gets scared of a lot of things. Especially people running towards him while howling and waving sticks around." Wolf shook her head in disappointment and dropped the stick before trotting over to the waterline to see how Heidi was going with her hand.

"Hello Wolfy, the compartment door bit me!" she complained, causing Wolf to turn around and growl in the direction of the motor home as if warning it not to do it again. "We're never going to get this advert done properly are we?" Heidi asked sadly, "well at least we'll get to kick off Donovan tonight then."

"Don't give up yet," Lauren encouraged her, "I've just had a great idea that won't involve much filming at all. I think it'll work better just with still pictures instead." Heidi brightened up considerably at that, jumping to her feet and seemingly forgetting that her hand was hurting.

"Cool, I love photos! We can do a group photo as well! Everett, stop hiding inside, Wolf won't hurt you and Matthew, stop trying to break that laptop. The Killer Critics have got a plan, right Lauren?"

"That's right," Lauren agreed, "I'm going to create an emotional journey, a spiritual investigation into the true meaning of life," noticing Heidi just staring at her blankly she quickly added, "or it could just be a normal advert, whatever."


Confessional

Lauren: I'm thinking less of your traditional video advert and heading more towards something like a slideshow presentation with some beastly narration in the background. It's going to be an emotional masterpiece if you ask me."


Hiding inside their motor home from mutant flies near the top of the thousand foot cliff: New Screaming Fans Filming Location.

Since it was now unsafe to be anywhere near the back of the motorhome where Sandra, wearing a gasmask, was cooking up a lethal concoction designed to destroy any biological life form, the Screaming Fans had moved their filming to the front of van. Alice was supposed to be filming Chance discussing the various switches, dials and buttons on the dashboard but she was easily distracted and ended up pointing the camera at Stacey instead who, like Donovan, had a problem with appearing on camera.

"Official police business!" she snapped, pushing the camera away with her hand, "no cameras, you can't film here!"

"That was Stacey," narrated Alice, "she's rather grumpy today; I think she wants to arrest all of us."

"Slander!"

"Which part, the bit about you being grumpy or wanting to arrest us?" asked Marshall.

"The grumpy bit of course! People always tell me I have wonderful personality," Stacey replied, flashing what she probably thought was a warm smile that ended up looking more like she was baring her teeth threateningly.

"Riiiight, and how many of these people were you threatening with a Taser at the time?"

"Would you two quit it? We're trying to film a serious section of the advert here!" snapped Chance, "Alice turn the camera back over here and stop getting distracted by the others."

"Isn't this footage ruined anyway?" asked Alice, "because I'm fairly sure Stacey's personality isn't part of the advert."

"We'll just edit that out when we use the laptop," answered Chance loudly over Stacey's protests, "Now can I get back to what I was doing? Anyone else want to start murdering each other back there? Good, now as I was saying the air-conditioning system on the Wawanakwa Motor Home is cutting edge, as I will demonstrate now." Chance tried to turn the air conditioner dial only to find that it appeared to be stuck in place. "Uh, give me a moment here," Chance twisted the dial ferociously and managed to crank it right up to the maximum temperature. A cloud of dust exploded out of the air conditioning vents as a wave of hot air struck the campers. Coughing and choking they tried to stumble back towards the back of the caravan only to remember to that Sandra was down there cooking up poison, completely oblivious to what was going on behind her.

"What the hell is wrong with the air conditioning?" spluttered Chance, "I thought these motor homes were new!"

"Chris probably stole them from a wrecking yard!" snapped Marshall, "shut the air conditioning off already, it's getting as hot as a blast furnace in here!" Chance, one hand over his mouth and nose made his way back to the dial and tried to turn it backwards but unfortunately only succeeded in ripping it off dashboard, leaving it stuck at that temperature. The caravan was quickly becoming a boiling oven and Sandra finally noticed that something was wrong.

"What did you idiots do!?" she demanded, "are you all crazy or what? How am I supposed to work when you turn this place into the Sahara Desert? If I leave this unattended for even a few seconds it could_" funnily enough she was leaving it unattended right now and the lethal mixture bubbled and spat before belching out a toxic cloud of smoke taking this motor home from simply being uncomfortable to being a death-trap. Suddenly the swarm of mutant flies outside didn't seem like such a pressing concern anymore, in fact they looked quite friendly compared to what was going on in the motorhome.

"Abandon ship!" called Stacey, "staying in the presence of extreme heat and toxic chemicals counts as reckless endangerment and I won't have it!" She lunged for the motorhome's door and wrenched it open before anyone else could voice their opinion on the matter. A wave of flies soared into the caravan in the same motion as the Screaming Fans burst out of it. The flies lacked the intelligence to see their targets were no longer inside the vehicle and the whole swarm poured in through the door allowing Stacey to slam the door shut behind them, trapping the mutant insects inside the poisonous death-trap.

"Well on the bright side we won't have to wait inside in the caravan for the toxic fumes to clear," Sandra observed brightly, "and all the mutant flies will definitely die in there, so it's a win-win situation. The rest of our footage will just have to exterior shots though; it's not going to be safe in there for about a week." As if reacting to her words, the mobile home started to rock violently backwards and forwards, accompanied by creaking and groaning noises.

"This is a win-win situation?" asked Marshall incredulously, "then what would you class as a lose-lose situation?"

"If a super storm hit the island at exactly the same time a gigantic behemoth of the deeps dormant for thousands of years launched a destructive attack against Camp Wawanakwa because Chris stupidly summoned it ages ago. But that would just be plain ridiculous not to mention completely improbable."


The Beach: AKA the Killer Critic's Film Set

Once they'd given up on trying to find anything good about Chris Mclean's tacky mobile home scheme, or delivering weird lectures on unrelated topics for that matter, the Killer Critics had significantly less trouble getting their advert done. The trick was to mostly ignore the product entirely in favour of an obscure ramblings that most viewers would never link to motorhomes at all. You know like those adverts where you have no idea what the product is until the very end when a logo or something flashes up? Not to mention how using more still-frame photography than actual filming meant the Killer Critics had plenty of act weird and try to kill each other without ruining the advert. This turned out to be fortunate because Heidi and Donovan were arguing again, thanks to Donovan accusing of Heidi making more attempts on his life.

"How am I supposed to have rigged that ladder to fall on you!?" demanded Heidi, "you can't whine about that, I wasn't anywhere near it and it didn't even hit you."

"You reached the beach first and had plenty of time to set your traps before the rest of us arrived, I suspect you are responsible for the boxing glove that struck Matthew as well. Your violence is spiralling out of control red-haired one."

"Oh I'm the violent one now? Yeah I'm really going to take that coming from the guy that tried to cut me open with a spear during the last challenge!"

"I was trying to save this island from a worse fate, you would not understand."

"A worse fate? What could be worse than me getting murdered in the middle of a challenge!?"

"Only some of your blood was required, as usual you are overreacting."

"Could you quiet down out there!?" called Everett, sticking his head out of the motorhome's doorway, "I'm trying to finish recording my narration in here."

"Hmmph, why couldn't I do the narration?" pouted Heidi, "I have the best voice on this team don't you know."

"Because your voice is too cheerful," Lauren answered absently from where she was working on editing their advert together on the laptop, "Everett will you be done soon? I'll need that audio file."

"Yeah, yeah give me a minute," grumbled Everett, "I can vanish off into the woods for a couple of days with no worries but the moment I'm back here I'm drowning in deadlines."

"Drowning! I HATE drowning, have you played Assassin's Creed?" interrupted Matthew loudly, "I swear Altair can drown in a freaking puddle! That's if he stops cowering on the top of chimney to jump anywhere in the first place!" Wolf just whined at him curiously, obviously unfamiliar with the video game industry. "Exactly!" Matthew just decided to pretend she was agreeing with him and continued his ranting, "And why do I have to take an intelligence penalty when playing as an orc? What the hell is that all about?"

"I am beginning to understand why they give you an intelligence penalty," rumbled Donovan, "and it has nothing to do with orcs."

"Oh you don't want to pick a fight with me right now Donovan!" snapped Matthew, "I'm in a really, really bad mood."

"Pick a fight with you?" asked Donovan, "you are so out of control just being on the same planet as you counts as picking a fight. Your anger is worsening, I advise you to rethink your outlook on life."

"Preferably to one that doesn't involve trying to stab me," Heidi suggested, "because Donovan does that and he's a douchelord."

"No worries, I'm more about using baseball bats anyway," Matthew told her, "bladed weapons are for chumps."

"Done!" Everett jumped out of the caravan and hurled the USB containing his narration over to Lauren who deftly caught it out of the air without looking up from the screen. "How's the rest going?"

"Just about done, just going to add the finishing touches and we get the rest of the afternoon off!"

"Too bad, because I need to collect it right now, hahahahahaha!" Chris had appeared out of nowhere in that uncanny way he had. "Oh man I love doing that, save what you have done so far and turn the laptop over to me NOW."

"I only need another minute or so," Lauren told him crossly, "don't ruin a work of art with your impatience."

"Let me think about it… how about NO! Time's up and_" while he'd been distracted talking to Lauren, Chris hadn't been keeping an eye on Wolf which is never a good idea. The wild girl had bounded over to him and was now running in circles around him, howling at the sky. "Why did I let this girl on the show," groaned Chris, "all I wanted was for her to maul campers randomly, at least Donovan is working out for the ratings. Interns! Someone throw Wolf a stick or something!" A nervous intern obliged him by throwing a tree branch out from the trees and onto the sand. Wolf eagerly dashed off to retrieve and Chris was free to walk over to Lauren and snatch it away from her. "Game over, loser, game over."

"Actually I finished what I needed to do while Wolf was distracting you," said Lauren, smiling widely at Chris. "What you've got there is the finishing product, the best motorhome advert the world has ever seen."

"Don't count on it, I'm betting on the Screaming Fans winning this one on the grounds that don't have a crazed animal, two psychiatric patients and an airhead on their team. See you at sundown."

"Two psychiatric patients?" Lauren asked curiously as Chris left, "I never knew." Mathew ran past covered in seaweed and screaming his head off, business continued as usual for the Killer Critics.


Outside the Motorhome that has now become a bio hazardous waste zone: AKA Screaming Fans Filming Location

The Screaming Fans had finished filming for their advert and Sandra was working on the laptop to edit the footage into something that made sense, which was harder than it sounded considering how bizarre their footage was. Rather than enjoying the break from work like his other teammates while Sandra finished up, Marshall was staring intently at their caravan which he was near certain something horrendous was going to happen to.

"Is it just me," he asked loudly, "or does our caravan look like it's gotten a whole lot more unstable than it was when we first pushed it up here?"

"Totally," drawled Chance, "because the weight of some dead flies would totally be enough to destabilise the brilliant job we did securing it."

"I don't remember securing it," commented Alice, "I thought we just stop pushing and it didn't slide down the cliff so we figured it must be safe."

"Are you telling me that we were walking around in that thing when it could go rolling down the hill at any moment?" demanded Stacey, "this must be a no parking zone, which one of you stole the sign!?"

"It was probably Cynthia," Marshall told her sarcastically, "that's why she isn't here for this challenge because she was far too busy cooking up evil parking violation schemes."

"That wouldn't surprise me, limousines like she must have are always flouting traffic laws, I ought to arrest that girl the next time I see her."

"Alright, that's it, I'm officially adding a public service announcement to our video," announced Sandra, "it goes a little like this: Stacey is not a police officer and you should ignore everything she says. Thank you for listening."

"Can I say I like that without Stacey hitting me in the head again?" asked Chance.

"No," Stacey told him bluntly, climbing back on to her feet from where she'd been lounging on the grass. "Don't try it or I'll arrest you for contempt. And as for you Sandra, you're going to have to come back to the station. I'm charging you with using the Media to Disseminate False Information."

"And I'm charging you with the Idiot Tax," said Sandra, "on the grounds that you are being an idiot, now be quiet."

"How dare you_" Stacey's most likely obnoxious tirade was mercifully cut short as the motorhome shuddered violently and gave off a grinding metallic howl that set everyone's teeth on edge just listening to it.

"I knew that van was possessed by demons!" announced Alice, "say what you want about Chris but he doesn't have telekinesis."

"I know there isn't really any place to attach them to but please tell me that Chris is doing that with some invisible wires and old pipe organ?" asked Marshall.

"Anything's possible I suppose," said Sandra through gritted teeth, annoyance obvious on her face, "it's possible I might be able to get this last bit of editing done without you idiots interrupting me with nonsense about demonically possessed motor homes." A muffled explosion rang out from inside the caravan, not just shaking it this time but shattering every window and blasting the door wide open.

"That'll have been the electronics going," observed Chance, sounding far too calm for this situation, "I knew we shouldn't have left the air conditioner running at max temperature for hours on end. That's just asking for trouble."

"Oh and I supposed you were going to stick around with the mutant flies and toxic gases to fix it with your extensive technical know-how?" asked Stacey, "Larry might have been able to pull it off with his illegal electronic skills but you couldn't."

"Larry's a total maniac! He's probably the one responsible for all this!"

"Marshall," Alice interrupted suddenly in her usual vacant voice, "do you have martial arts technique that would stop a falling caravan in its tracks."

"No, why?"

"Because that explosion appears to have shaken it loose and it's now rolling down the hill." Sure enough when the others spun around to look, the van was in fact rolling away and rapidly picking up speed as it did so.

"Stop that van!" shouted Sandra, "Chris will probably disqualify us if we lose it! He wants to sell them remember!" the scientist abandoned the laptop and bolted after the motor home just as it reached the tree line. Like a mad bulldozer the caravan appeared to be unstoppable, smashing its way through the trees. Marshall, Chance and Stacey followed Sandra in running after it like there was anything they could do to stop it and soon all of them had vanished amongst the trees, leaving a relaxed Alice behind.

"That's a shame;" Alice said to no one in particular, "Sandra never got to finish her last minute editing. I was rather looking forward to watching our advert."

"Hey you," Chef appeared from the trees, apparently timing his trip in a way that allowed him to entirely miss the runaway motor home and its pursuers. "Hippie Girl, where's the rest of your team?"

"Oh they ran off to chase a demonically possessed camper vans that's full of dead flies and toxic fumes," Alice told him, "it's kind of silly really. I don't know how you missed it."

"Never mind that!" snapped Chef, "Mclean didn't send me to the beach, no I had to come all the way up here to get some stupid advert."

"That's a shame; maybe you should catch your breath and rest while I add the last minute touches to the video."

"You know what Hippie Girl, I think I might just do that, stuff Mclean's rules. He gets to go to a beach party!" complained Chef as he stalked over to lean against a tree trunk, mumbling angrily under his breath the whole time. Alice had bought some time though it really wasn't going to be much help since she had no idea what she was doing with the laptop.

"I wish I knew what all these options did," she mused out loud, "well I better select include all clips because exclusion is mean and I'll chose randomise because variety is the spice of life." Satisfied that transforming Sandra' hard work into a jumbled mess counted as last minute editing Alice grinned proudly as she figured out how to save her changes. "That wasn't so hard, maybe I should get one of these back at home. All done Mr Chef, you can hand it in and go to that beach party now."

"No worries, tell those layabout teammates of yours to be seated on the grandstands set up outside the arts and crafts centre by sundown or they'll be hunted down and dragged there by Sasquatchanakwa."

"That doesn't sound very nice, I'll be sure to pass that on when they get back," Alice could only imagine how pleased her teammates would be when they learned that she had finished the challenge for them.


Outside the Arts and Crafts Centre: Sundown

Both teams were seated in their separate grandstands waiting for their impromptu movie night to get started and needless to say, some were feeling a lot more confident than others. The process was being held up by the fact Chris had noticed that a few of his hairs were out of place at the last minute and bolted off camera and no one would start playing the ads without him present. Not to mention the fact the interns were still struggling to push the massive viewing screen into place while Chef just watched sadistically from behind his judging panel.

"What are we supposed to do!" hissed Sandra, "I never got to finish the advert before Chef took the laptop away."

"Didn't I tell you that I finished it for you?" asked Alice, "I'm sure I did."

"You finished it!? What have you done to it!?"

"Oh this I have to see," said Chance, "I mean I know it'll to our abysmal failure but seeing how Alice messed up our advert has got to be funny."

"It might be alright," Alice said defensively, "I'm very good with computers."

"Nope, we're all dead, completely freaking dead," groaned Marshall.

"Such a shame that I had no part in this catastrophe," observed Cynthia smugly, "perhaps our team would have been better off submitting nothing at all and maintaining some dignity instead."

"Hellllllo losers and loserettes I'm your host Chris Mclean and this Ultimate Advertisement Smack down!" Chris had returned from his emergency hair maintenance and was starting the show in his usual bombastic style. "In the blue corner we have the Crazy, Kooky and Spooky Critics!"

"Woohoo! Go team!" cheered Heidi enthusiastically.

"And in the green corner are our defending champions, The Screaming, Scheming and Probably Dreaming Fans! Tonight, you will see an advert from both teams, judged by the illustrious Chef Hatchet. The losing team WILL eliminate their most sucky member this very night. Hold onto your hats because the show starts now with the Killer Critic's submission!" Chris clicked his fingers and jumped out of view as the screen came to life, starting to play the advert.


Killer Critics Film Studios Presents; A motion picture directed by Lauren the Fastest Artist

The white text faded away to be replaced by a still picture of Camp Wawanakwa's shoreline with no one in sight while Everett's voice, in a grim and serious tone began playing in the background. In life you will meet many people. Some; will call you a friend. The picture of the water cut away to show another still frame of Lauren and Wolf building a sandcastle. Others will know you as enemy and fight bitterly against you. This time picture changed to show the scene of Donovan and Matthew, faces frozen in expressions of rage. You may find that you need a sanctuary, a place to enjoy time with your friends and to shield you from the wrath of your enemies. If that sounds like something you need, consider purchasing… Everett's voice trailed off as the screen changed to finally show a picture of the actual caravan. The Wawanakwa; King of the Road.

The Wawanakwa is designed to thwart thieves; the footage of Donovan and Matthew playing tug-of-war with the motor home played. You will find it impervious to violent assaults; Everett was shown bolting inside in the caravan and hiding in there as Wolf beat on the door and above all it is designed to allow you to enjoy life with your friends; There was a final cut to a group photo of the team, minus Donovan, inside the caravan where Heidi was giving rabbit ears to Everett and Matthew while Lauren appeared to laughing and Wolf looked on in confusion.

Credits

Lauren as girl building sandcastle

Wolf as other girl building sandcastle and caravan attacker

Matthew as enraged guy one and caravan thief

Donovan as enraged guy two and caravan thief

Everett as guy hiding in caravan

Heidi as rabbit ears prankster


The credits ended and the screen faded to black and there was a moment of silence before Chris lunged back in front of the screen, talking in his loud, over the top voice. "Well that was certainly bizarre and not at all what I was expecting, let's see what our judge Chef Hatchet thought!" The aforementioned Chef was wiping tears away from his eyes with the back of his hands.

"That was beautiful," he choked out, "why didn't I ever get to go on a beach holiday when I was kid? All the other kids got ponies too."

"Okaaaaay, Chef needing to see a psychiatrist about his messed up childhood aside, let's see what the Screaming Fans have to show us!" The screen came to life once more but judging by the apprehensive expressions on the Fans faces they had no idea what was to come, nor did they particularly want to know.


"Official police business!" Stacey was shouting, "No cameras, you can't film here!"

"That was Stacey," narrated Alice, "she's rather grumpy today; I think she wants to arrest all of us." The footage suddenly cut away and was replaced by a close up of Alice's eyeball. "The eyes are the window to the soul, therefore people who wear sunglasses are hiding the fact they have no soul_"

"Stop being an idiot," cut in Chance, and the camera was wrestled away and briefly showed a blurred shot of the sky before the shot changed once more to show the interior of the caravan with someone filming Sandra making her toxic weapon.

"Here's Sandra being a criminal," said Stacey's voice, "she making an evil biochemical weapon and_" another scene cut, this one showing a title screen with The Wawanakwa written on it.


"What. The. Hell!" snapped Chris Mclean, turning off the television before the advert could descend further into lunacy. "Was that supposed to be like inception or something?"

"ALICE!" raged Sandra, "YOU RUINED EVERYTHING!"

"That made less sense than that crazy intern we found wandering in the woods!" said Chef, "Killer Critics win!"

"You're just saying that because I bet against them!" argued Chris.

"Too bad, where's my fifty dollars?" grumbling the whole time, Chris handed Chef fifty dollars before turning back to address the audience. "Fine, Killer Critics win, at least that means I show this next piece of footage without running the risk of getting Donovan eliminated tonight."

"There's more footage of Donovan trying to kill us?" asked Matthew, "man I HATE Donovan!"

"Unfortunately for you Matthew, the viewing audience loves him. Now, you might have been wondering what Donovan did with the medication he stole from Everett, well here it is." The screen came back on again, showing video footage of Donovan crushing tablets into powder with a mortar and pestle during the dead of night before changing to a shot of Matthew eating his breakfast cereal. As they all watched the screen in horror, they saw Donovan creeping up behind Matthew and sprinkling antipsychotic powder into his food before the screen went dark once more. "Ha! Isn't that a kicker! No wonder Matthew can't think straight, since Donovan's been poisoning him with meds that aren't meant for him ever since he nicked the things off Everett."

"No! You tried to poison me! DIE DONOVAN!" there was a ruckus in the Killer Critic's stand as a brief fight broke out, ending when Matthew was hurled from the stands by an impassive Donovan.

"It was to make you stronger in the end, now you know the full consequences of losing control, perhaps you will think before you act," explained Donovan before turning to Chris. "Are we excused now? I have much to think on."

"Sure Donovan old buddy, Killer Critics, feel free to leave. Screaming Fans, cast your votes and I'll see you at the bonfire pit!"


Confessional

Sandra: Alice. Is. Going. Down!

Stacey: That video made me look like an idiot! Chris better edit all of that out before this episode airs!

Chance: That was too good, shame it happened to us but still it was pretty funny.

Marshall: I know Alice kind of screwed our video up but at least she was there, I mean Cynthia didn't take part at all, is that worse?

Alice: It was Chance's idea to film up there anyway, so he's to blame for the thing falling down the hill. And all the others didn't necessarily have to chase after it and leave me alone with the laptop.


The Bonfire Pit

"Hello losers, congrats on costing me fifty dollars!" complained Chris, "You were supposed to win! On the bright side, Donovan gets to stick around to wreck even more havoc so it's not all bad. Anyway, you know how this words, I have five envelopes of hate mail here, there are six of you, the person who does not receive one will walk the dock of shame and they can never, EVER return to the island. Firstly, our recipients of safety tonight are; Marshall, Sandra and Stacey." He threw the three of them their envelopes leaving, Chance, Alice and Cynthia waiting. "Chance, it was your bright idea to go up the thousand meter cliff for filming. Cynthia, you didn't show up for the challenge at all and Alice, what the hell did you do your own team's video? Self-sabotage isn't cool dudette. "All three of you failed today, but only one of you will be leaving the island… Chance, it's not you!"

"That was way too close!" exclaimed Chance, thankfully catching his envelope, "don't do that to me again."

"No promises Chance, no promises. Now there are two of you left without safety, the girl who wasn't there and the girl who probably wishes she wasn't there. The winner of the last of envelope full of hate mail is… Cynthia! Alice, goodbye, you will walk the dock of shame! Later loser!"

"Oh dear, I would have rather liked to win a million dollars," Alice said sadly, getting to her feet, "maybe another time guys."

"Ha! It's about miss crazy psychic was booted off the island," said Sandra happily.

"I'll miss you too, Sandra," replied Alice without a hint of sarcasm, "and all the rest of you, even if you thought I was crazy or a liar."

"Hey, at least you didn't torture us like Donovan does to his team," pointed out Marshall, "you made a mistake but you're alright in my books."

"Oh that reminds me," Alice tossed a heavy book over to Marshall, "could you see that Matthew gets that book of meditation techniques? It might help him recover from all this. And let Everett know I was eliminated too, that should make him feel safer at least."

"Your concern for you opponents is admirable," Cynthia told her, "farewell Alice." They all waved goodbye to Alice as she left, even Sandra surprisingly who realised that she might in fact miss all their silly arguments.

"So what do you know?" Chris jumped back in front of the camera, "one of our nicest contestants gets kicked off and Donovan is still terrorising everything that moves on this island. Unfortunately, Chef wouldn't bet that she would make it so I have yet to make my money back! Anyway, will it rain on Camp Wawanakwa? Will I feed the contestants to hungry sharks? Will I ever get my fifty dollars back off Chef? Find out next time on Total Drama OUTRAGE!"