Chapter 5: Day 2 — The Uncrossed Line in the Sand

Meanwhile, on Samundra…

The light of dawn had barely broken the sky when a loud roar caused the team to stir. Casey was the first out of the shelter and to her feet.

"What is that?" Bob asked.

"Two big yellow hovercraft unloading a bunch of ATVs down by the stream."

"Ok, it's the crew arriving," Jamal said lying back down. "Back to bed."

"Fire?" Jessica said, trying to crawl out. "The fire?"

Casey knelt down. "Still has a flame in the coals. The stack did good."

Jessica was now out of the shelter, "Ok. More wood then bed again."

Casey piled more coconut fibers from the pile they gathered last night as Jessica blew the coals up. Once the fire was going strong, Casey put on a few more sticks, then the two returned to bed trying to ignore the noise.

The blue film crews eventually arrived but found nothing amiss.


Meanwhile, on Berapi…

The sun had peaked above the horizon when the roaring of engines awakened Berapi. After seeing what the noise was and the lack of light, everyone almost immediately went back to sleep. Except for Hassim, who began to get up.

"What are you doing?" asked a member of the crew as they began unpacking the filming equipment.

"Pray," Hassim said groggily.

"Well wait a few minutes, we need to film it," he said, continuing to unpack.

Sugar Petal began to stir too and crawled over to the fire. She began poking it.

It was nearly cold.

She stood up and stumbled over to the tree line.

"What are you doing?! Stop! We need to film you!" a field producer shouted.

Sugar Petal ignored him and kept scrambling for fibers and twigs.

"I ordered you to stop!" he stormed over. He ripped it from her hands and held it above her head.

"Stop! The fire's out! I need that before it dies!" Sugar Petal screamed jumping for it.

"If it dies before we get the cameras up and running then it's your fault your team's fire died!" The field producer then threw the bundle as far as he could into the trees.

This snapped Michael awake. But before he got up, he paused. The crew had just said they could not intervene with the fire until they got their cameras out, so he would only get himself in trouble. As much as the fire going out would set back the team, he just heard the crew blame Sugar Petal for it. It was most likely meant as a generalized your, but the others didn't need to know that.

Michael was then surprised when Lisa turned over to face him. "You hear what he just screamed?"

Michael smiled, "Two witnesses will make this even easier."

"And she's dumb enough to admit it," Lisa said laying her head back down. She looked in the general direction of the wailing, pleading and screaming on the other side of the tarp. "Let the games begin."

Michael smiled as he laid down as well, putting both his hands behind his head. "Couldn't have said it better myself.

He waited. And waited. Listening to the Sugar Petal's pleas and the angry crewmembers.

"Ok, camera's are a go," he heard.

Michael turned his head and waited until Hassim stood and was walking away with his crew in tow. "Lisa, wake Becky, hurry."

Lisa rolled over and sat up. "Becky… Becky…" she shook her.

"Whaaaaat…" Becky whined.

"Sugar Petal let the fire go out. The camera crew has been yelling at her for minutes."


Sugar Petal was just about to kneel at the fire with her new twigs and coconut husks.

"WHAAAAT?!"

Becky scrambled out of the shelter not caring about where and who she stepped on and reared up like a cobra. Sugar Petal did not even have time to turn as Becky's hand collided with the full force of her body weight into the side of her face.

Sugar Petal went down in the sand and Becky stumbled and landed next to her.

Becky pounced, possessed by a demon and laid into her, beating her face and pulling her hair.

Sugar Petal did not respond at first. Then the screaming started.

Hassim immediately spun around and was running back, but Ichiro got there first and practically picked Becky up and tossed her down the beach.

"We got a bloody nose!" the technician shouted.

Becky was back on her feet and was about to lunge at Ichiro when Hassim arrived and stood between them.

Becky paused.

"This isn't over," Becky pointed up, her fake fingernails almost touching Hassim's jaw.

"What the hell is that noise?" Michael groggily pulled himself out. "Sky is still dark…"

He then saw the medics putting a cloth over Sugar Petal's bloody face. "What the hell?!" Michael said, honestly surprised.

"Becky broke her nose," Ichiro said, leaning over and gripping his stomach with one hand and his thigh with the other. "And kicked me in the fucking balls."

"When?" Hassim asked.

"Getting out of the shelter, ah…ahhhh…" he groaned.

"Those cat claws don't look very good either," Michael said walking over. He knelt down next to Sugar Petal, "Are you going to be ok?"

Sugar Petal gave two thumbs up as the medics went over her face. "Everything is perfect," she said, muffled by the cloth.

"Good… Good," Michael stood. "Now what happened?"

"Becky attacked Sugar Petal trying to get the fire up," Ichiro said, standing straight.

"Don't lie!" Becky screamed. "The fire is out! The camera people have been screaming at her forever!"

"I kinda remember hearing that…" Lisa said, crawling half way out of the shelter.

Hassim turned his back to Becky and knelt down, "They wouldn't let us do anything until the cameras were running." He picked up the bundle. "Damn, Becky stomped this into the sand," He tossed it away, "it's useless now."

"I don't feel any heat."

They turned and saw Sam with his hands over the coals.

Sam looked up at them. "I think we're at square one…"

Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Ok… Ok… Let's just go back to sleep. We can't do anything half dead. We can do this when the sun is ACTUALLY up." He walked back to the shelter, "Move over Lisa I'm coming in."

"Don't leave me out here with him!" Becky screeched and forced her way inside.

"Becky, watch it. Jesus Christ, woman…" Michael muttered as he disappeared under the tarp.

Hassim sighed then leaned down next to Sugar Petal. "Sugar Petal, I'm going to go pray, then I'll be right back, ok?"

"Yes, ok…"

Hassim walked away with his crew.

Ichiro then leaned down. "Hey, um…" he said softly, "how do you start a fire?"

"Stone on metal, sometimes stones spark on stones."

"Stop talking and let us get the blood off you," a medic scolded.

"Ok thank you," Ichiro said.

He stood slowly, then hobbled away into the trees.


After Ichiro watered a tree, he walked deeper into the forest.

"Where are you headed?" his field producer asked.

"Find rocks to try and start the fire," Ichiro said. "When I think rocks, I think a stream." He pointed ahead of him, "It's this way, right?"

"We can't answer that," he said.

Ichiro walked on, and quickly walked into a storm of bugs. "Oh my- *spzzz* *spzzz*" Ichiro began spitting bugs out of his mouth. Then he ran away, flailing his arms as the mosquito swarm chased him.

Ichiro charged out of the forest and bounded across the beach before leaping in the water.

"Are you alright?" Sam called out.

Ichiro stood and pushed his hair off of his face. "Kami damn mosquitoes! Don't go back there."

Sam got up and walked out to the water's edge. "Well, come on now," he took off his shirt, "Let's get you dry."

Ichiro stared at him.

"What's wrong?"

"Your belt buckle."


Thirty minutes later, Ichiro and Sam are kneeling above a bundle of coconut husks hitting the buckle on a rock.

"What are you doing?" Hassim said walking back.

"Trying to get sparks," Sam said.

"That's probably copper painted to be silver. Copper won't spark."

"And how do you know that?" Ichiro asked.

Sam looked at the buckle.

"From the medieval reenactments my in-laws always drag me too."

"God, he's right…" Sam looked up as his arms went limp. "The silver is rubbing off and there's yellow underneath."

"Ok, smart guy, what do you use?" Ichiro asked.

Hassim let out a short sigh, "Iron and flint."

"Well, that doesn't help…"

"Rock is wrong too."

They turned and saw Sugar Petal.

Sam stood. "Oh god, Sugar Petal, your face."

Sugar Petal just smiled. "Nothing is the matter. Everything is perfect."

Hassim shook his head. "If it's not hurting now, it will in a couple hours as that bruise sets in. Please don't work too hard today."

"I will be fine," Sugar Petal continued to smile. She looked back at Sam, "Sam. Do you still have your necklace from the boat party?"

He pulled it out, revealing a three nail cross.

Hassim's eyes widened, "Are those real?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Iron, Sam. Iron. Iron nails?"

Sam's face turned to horror. "What?! No!" he said, shoving it back under his shirt.

Hassim pointed at the shelter, "My prayer rug is being slept on right now," he said frustrated. "You can spare your cross for a few minutes."

"No. Heck No," Sam said firmly. He got up and walked off, slipping his belt back into his pants loops.

"Don't worry," Ichiro said. "He'll change his mind by the end of the day. You didn't want to give your rug up at first either."

"I gave it up understanding I'd get it back to pray, not permanently," Hassim raised his voice.

"It's only the second day," Ichiro said. "Let's just stay optimistic."

"No," Sugar Petal said suddenly, "Hassim will never get it back." She fully turned to Hassim and put her hands over her heart. "If you love your rug, you must let it go. When things are taken away and you raise your voice, it will be destroyed in front of you."

"Never thought a fairy cake like you could be so morbid," Hassim said.

"What's a fairy cake?" Ichiro asked, confused.

"Oh…" he paused. "Basically," he looped his first two fingers and thumb in a tight circle, "it looks like a miniature cupcake, but it tastes lighter. It's… rather hard to explain if you've never been to Britain."

Sugar Petal suddenly looked worried. She looked at Ichiro. "Kare wa sekkusu o shitaidesu ka?"

"Iya!" Ichiro shouted. "Naze sō omou no?"

"English please," two field producers said at the same time.

"He… he called me a cupcake," she sputtered.

"He was just saying how Kawaii you are. That's all. Like a tiny little cake covered in pink frosting and rainbow sprinkles."

Sugar Petal's smile returned as her shoulders relaxed. She bowed, "Ok," and walked off.

"What was that about?" Hassim asked.

Ichiro chuckled nervously, "She… ah… wanted to know if you were flirting."

Hassim's face reddened, "What?!"

"I don't know why she thought that either," Ichiro shook his head.

Hassim looked away and put his hand over his mouth. "Oh my Days… Note to self: be careful what you say around Sugar Petal."

"Yeah…" Ichiro said. "Let's… Let's just go back to bed and pretend this didn't happen."

"Ichiro. A word alone," his field producer gestured for him to follow. The group exited camp as Michael stuck his head out of the shelter and spoke with Hassim.

A good distance away, the field producer turned around. "First off. Remember you can only speak English. Next time Sugar Petal asks you anything, answer in English. Got that?"

"Yes, sir," he nodded.

"Second. I want a direct translation for the camera. I know you were struggling to translate."

"Is this really going in the show?"

"Because you screamed, absolutely."

"Oh kami no…" Ichiro sighed, covering his face with his hands.

"Now what was it?" the field producer ordered.

"She…" Ichiro tilted his head down and away as he dropped his hands. "She…" he clinched his eyes. "She asked if he was propositioning her for sex."

"What?" "What the fuck?" and "Holy shit…" came from his crew.

"Why the hell she think that?" his technician said.

"I don't know," Ichiro raised his hands exasperated. "I truly don't know. I have no idea why a child equates cupcakes with sex."

The technician looked away. "And she only turned legal yesterday, man…" he mumbled softly, almost completely turning around.

The field producer pinched the bridge of his nose, "Let's just assume it's a Korean euphemism and drop the subject."

"Gladly," Ichiro said.

Ichiro turned and saw Michael had intercepted Hassim. Michael nodded, then jogged towards him as Hassim continued on.

The two met halfway. "Ichiro, was that shouting really over Sugar Petal thinking being called a cupcake was flirting? Or did something else happen?"

Ichiro stuttered, "Fir-fir- Flirting was the proper translation."

"Ok. Ok," Michael chuckled, "I just had to make sure with the shouting." He put his hand on Ichiro's shoulder. "Sugar Petal is so innocent and adorable, thinking being called cupcake was flirting." He leaned in and side eyed the cameraman before looking Ichiro in the eyes and smiling. "All the more reason to protect her, right?"

"We are in complete agreement on Sugar Petal," he answered carefully.

"Great!" Michael slapped him on the back. "Let's head back to camp."


Meanwhile, with Vegeta…

The sun rose late in the trees. A small bird landed next to him and started to hop and sing, waking him up. Vegeta peaked over the edge and saw three new people in camp. He managed to get a good look at one of their watches. "9 a.m. already? Shit!

"So, where's the other team? I wear them out already?"

"Mike and Jason have been reassigned to the Samundra," said the woman with the radio on her belt, the field producer for the new crew.

"And Nathan Bentley?"

"None of your business," she answered.

"Figured," he said, rolling away from the edge. He stood and climbed down one of the corner trees.

"Figured what?" Jackie asked.

"Not in front of the contestants," the new field producer shook her head.

"So, do I get an introduction to my new babysitters?" Vegeta asked sarcastically.

"We're not supposed to talk to each other," she said.

"Could have fooled me yesterday."

"Which has been dealt with," the field producer said, pointing at Vegeta then dropping her hand at the wrists.

"So how many kids?"

"Excuse me?" she sounded offended.

Vegeta did not notice. "You have this 'Don't fuck with me' about you that mothers on this world seem to have in overabundance." He grinned, "It's a very admirable trait for a race."

The field producer forced a smile and turned to help unload equipment.

"Um, Prince Vegeta," Jackie said nervously, "You don't say those things to an African-American woman."

Vegeta looked visibly confused. "What does her tribal affiliation have to do with human female aggression?"

"Then what do you think the word race actually means?" the field producer shouted over her shoulder.

"Race is race. I'm Saiyan race. You're Human race. Piccolo is Namekian race."

"That's not what race means on Earth," she said, "Have whoever taught you English explain things to you when you leave the show. We're not supposed to be talking anyway."

Vegeta looked at Jackie.

Jackie shrugs and mouths, "We're not supposed to talk."

"I don't like leaving an Earth woman mad," he said turning back to her, "They'll bite you like a najash when you least expect it. It's better to deal with things when you hear the shaker going off."

"All right then," she turned around, "Race is a horrible concept that was used for thousands of years to justify slavery and genocide."

Vegeta crossed his arms. "That's how the universe works. It's the most basic common sense like gravit—" a light dawned on his face, "Which somehow always turns out to be the exact opposite on Earth. So… I just sounded really stupid to you."

"Stupid is an understatement," she said.

Vegeta was silent for a moment.

"So, what about your appearance signals you're a member of this African-American tribe so I don't repeat this?"

Everyone stopped what they were doing and stared at him.

Vegeta threw his arms in the air. "What! WHAT! I'm not from here! I'm not from anywhere close to here!" Vegeta stormed off cursing in multiple languages judging by the English words he was spouting off.

"Wait! Vegeta!" The night's cameraman ran after him into the trees, "Wait for the day crew!"

"Is he that oblivious?" the field producer asked.

Her cameraman shrugged. "He did just say Earth has the exact opposite common sense than the rest of the galaxy, Leticia."

The night cameraman ran back. "Guys I've lost him!"


Vegeta just ran, damn the human speed limit. "I just humiliated myself. Where's Bulma when I need her?" was all that was going through his head.

He rounded the top of the hill and went down the other side when he came across a lot of camera equipment and a large set. Whatever this was, he knew he couldn't be here. Vegeta gently hovered to hide his footsteps and quietly floated away. He went right and came across a large, barren, rocky hill. He climbed it.

He found himself facing a third beach with an obstacle course being built. Vegeta quickly ducked down. "Crap, that's the game beach." He made his way down until he was safely out of sight and followed the contours of the rock.

Then a puff of wind brought something rancid to his nose. "Not like they would leave a corpse out here on purpose. Is that the vomit fruit they warned us about?"

Vegeta followed his nose and came across several trees clinging to the rocks. The insects were thick on the pile of rotting fruit on the ground.

"Is that what I think it is?" Vegeta said, looking at the trees. He made his way around and approached them from above, away from the rotting fruit down the slope.

The fruit looked like a white maggot, smelled like one too. Vegeta was not worried about that. Instead he picked a young leaf and put it in his mouth.

Vegeta's eyes widened. He took the leaf out of his mouth and spit. "Fucking Noni. I guess Vomit Fruit would be a good nickname for it." He wiped his mouth. "I'll need to remember this is here. It tasted damn good with that fish. Just got to figure out how the restaurant cooked it. I know there was coconut…"

While Vegeta was trying to remember how to cook noni leaves, he found himself on the opposite side of the rocky outcrop. Here was a forest of palm trees of all kinds. One kind took his mind off the noni. These were no taller than him and with huge fan-like leaves atop long stems.

"Heart of palm trees," he thought. He walked over to one to get a closer look. "Actually… these look a lot like the roofs of those fishing shacks when Bulma bought our island. Vegeta looked around at the dozens and dozens of these trees. "Wasn't the point of this show to starve to death?"

Then he spotted water.

Vegeta found a small beach only a few feet wide and a lonely rock sticking out into the water. He hopped on and saw deep water in front of him and the reef and sandbars very distantly to his right.

And lots and lots of fish.

Vegeta's stomach growled as he jumped back into the trees. He grabbed and sharpened a branch with his energy. He also chipped a rock for good measure and made a professional-looking flaked knife. More like a dagger, really. Vegeta cut another branch for a handle and bound it with vine. He held it to the sun.

"You may have been a helpless warrior, Raditz, but at least you were a good momma's boy in the kitchen," Vegeta said smiling.

He took his team's scarf and tied it into a pouch for the knife and wrapped the spare vine around his wrist. He then undressed to his boxers, scratched "YOU STEAL YOU DIE" in the sand, and jumped in.

Vegeta dove deep and immediately heard something. "That's screaming. Something very big is dying. Sounds like breakfast." He used his energy to propel himself through the water.


One of the large filming drones was in the sky.

"He doesn't seem to be anywhere in the canopy," its pilot said.

"You sure Sarah?" Bobby asked pacing behind her and the multi-computer screen set up.

"Yes."

"Hey, we just got a call from the local police," a staff member shouted, "Tourists are filming a guy with one of our red bandanas cutting a net off a whale with a stone knife."

"Does he have shoulder length hair with a balding widow's peak?"

The staff talked into the phone. "The police just said yes."

"Get the boats and the drones ready! And get the names of those tourists! I want their videos!"


"You sure you don't want a metal knife?" an old lady in a sundress asked.

"I told you before, I'll get disqualified if I touch your shit." Vegeta said, tearing through more layers of the netting. He was using his strength more than anything. The dagger was just for show. If the tourist boats weren't here, he could have used a ki blade and done this in moments. But life was not so kind today.

"Had to be fucking whale…" he thought. "I'm starving and eating this thing would be like wearing baby seal leather boots."

Suddenly the staff on one boat started shouting and waving their hands.

"English please!" Vegeta said not looking up from the net.

"They're saying there's a baby in the net."

"What? Where?

"We have an underwater camera on the boat," said one of the tourists. "I think the whale's in labor."

"Oh perfect…" Vegeta took a deep breath and dove.

The tourists on that boat turned their cell phones to the large TV.

"Oh fuck." Vegeta thought seeing the tiny tail already twisted in the net. "Screw this!" Vegeta ignited his ki boiling the water around him and attacked the net. He made short work of it and untangled the tail. Vegeta then surfaced and pulled the net off. He dived again, pulled the baby out and pushed it to the surface.

Vegeta heard cheers when he came up for breath. He dove again and swam under the whales, who were now singing like crazy. They seemed happy.

Vegeta surfaced on the other side and saw one of the boats grabbing the net. "Hey! Don't touch that!"

"But we need to get rid of this," a captain said.

"We're allowed to scavenge! That's my prize!" he barked.

Suddenly a helicopter arrived spooking the whales. The mother's tail slammed into the water, scattering the boats. Vegeta dove. After checking on the net, he surfaced in time to see boats with armed guards circle the group.

"You are all on private property," Bobby shouted through a megaphone. "Turn over all your recording devices then leave at once!"

Another man with a microphone translated it into local languages.

"Fuck your shit!" Vegeta called out from the water. "We're over a mile out."

"You're out here. Pictures of you belong to us!"

"I am no one's property!" Vegeta roared. He beat the water with his fists causing large waves that rocked the boats. When it bounced back, it broke around him like hitting an invisible wall. A hissing mist rose giving the illusion of a dome surrounding him.

"And you can't legally do shit to these people. We're in deep water. Property rights don't go out this far unless you've bribed the damn cops!" Vegeta turned to the boats, "They can't do anything to you. Don't let those guns scare you."

Sirens suddenly were heard and several police boats circled the group.

"You're late," Bobby said. "Help us get these videos."

The police chief nodded and they drew their guns as they maneuvered to board the boats.

"You so much scratch the paint on those boats, you fucking Shakanarsik and I will PERSONALLY make sure you spend the rest of your lives in jail, you Sika paru wallem naru caca!"

The leading officer started screaming stop repeatedly and everyone froze. He leaned over the side of his boat. "Prince—Mr. Brief?! What are you doing here?"

"Well look who it is, the lovely official who wanted a bribe so we could buy our island. They transferred your ass to the other side of the sector instead of firing you, I see. Vegeta smirked knowing his leverage.

What happened two years ago was extremely well documented and led to class action lawsuits and corruption charges all the way into the planetary courts. That this man was still a police officer made him dead in his hands.

"As for what I'm doing, I just rescued a whale and delivered a baby." Vegeta's smirk turned into a predatory grin. "Now, I know we're on the opposite side of the sector, but when we bought our island, I believe it was you personally that told us our property rights ended at the deep water. And last I checked, we are in deep water. If anything we're closer to the rise at the resort islands than we are to the set."

"That is normally true but…" he stuttered.

"What are you waiting for!" Bobby shouted. "You know the law on this!" He spotted a young man with a fancy camera, "Stop filming right now and rip out that SD card!"

"No can do, buddy," the guy said, "Check the shirt."

Vegeta looked. Although he didn't understand some of it. He knew the YouTube logo and the words "Live", "Stream", and "Vacation". All 15 people in that boat had the same T-shirt.

"I will sue you so hard you'll need to shoplift the pills to commit suicide!"

"YOU WILL NOT!" Vegeta roared. "Vegeta looked at the group. "I'm Vegeta Brief of the Capsule Corporation's Briefs. Dad's number is 415-320-1518. You call it, he'll know you got it from me. We'll do everything else."

"So, you're like a cousin?" one of the young women asked.

Vegeta laughed. "No. I took my wife's name."

Everyone looked at him like he grew a second head.

"Well fuck you too!" Vegeta grabbed the net and began swimming back towards the island.

"What are you doing, Mr. Brief?" the cop said.

"We're allowed to scavenge. If I don't get to eat, I'm taking this."

"That net has to be a few hundred pounds," a tourist said.

"I'm not concerned," he answered. He turned to the producer. "Not going to raise your voice? You and the staff have been spending the last few days screaming at me over things like this."

"No, you are correct," Bobby said tersely. "You are allowed to scavenge and there is no water borderline at this moment. But there WILL be tomorrow. We will inform the teams tomorrow of the new boundary."

Vegeta smirked. "Fine by me. Now about these tourists?"

He turned to the police. "Get all their names. Our lawyers will handle everything else."

"Remember, the doctor's number is 415-320-1518," Vegeta shouted again. "Now move the damn boats!"

The boats gently reversed, and Vegeta began dragging the net. The helicopter stopped circling and followed.


An hour later, Vegeta came to shore pissed. It took less than 5 minutes to get out there, and an hour to get back because of that stupid helicopter. At least his clothes were still here. He looked over the net.

It was huge. Over double what he thought it was, and he had not even untangled it yet.

"This is going to take a few days…" he sighed. Then he spotted some flopping fish. "But definitely worth it."

The helicopter quickly disappeared and Vegeta made quick work gutting and burning the fish with his ki. He was swallowing the last of the fish when some boats rounded the corner from the game beach. They circled around the net and pulled up onto the breach. A man in a suit jumped out carrying what looked like an old brick cell phone with a ridiculously long antenna. Vegeta stood up and spit out some fish bones.

"That's some rather primitive tech even for this planet," he said, crossing his arms.

"It's a satellite phone," he said, extending it to Vegeta, "It's corporate."

"Don't know them and don't care."

"Mr. Brief, please just take the call."

"Look, it's simple. You talk to the Doc or to my wife who then talk to me. That was in my paperwork before you ever found out I wasn't born here and probably thought I was just a fucking stupid trophy husband."

"Sir, please don't be belligerent."

Vegeta gave his false smile, "Sorry, I can't control-alt-delete this. It's my factory default."

"Alright, your Majesty. We will contact your family and set up a meeting link." He began to walk back towards the boat.

Then Vegeta spotted someone in the boat. "You, dark-skinned woman. Wait a moment!"

"What is it?" Sarah said, offended.

Vegeta ran up to her. "You are African-American?"

"Yes. Why?"

Vegeta's cheeks turned a little pink. He looked to the side, "I may have misidentified one of you kinswomen earlier and from the conversation with the group they made it seem the distinction should have been obvious but wouldn't elaborate." His face deepened in color. "Is… Is it the way you braid your hair? Is this general style a signature of your tribe? I mean race…" His ears are now reddening. "She was adamant on me using the word race instead of tribe." He chuckled nervously, "No offense."

"Ok… we need to teach racial sensitivity to the alien," the lawyer said, rubbing his temples as he walked over. He lowered his arms and sighed, "At least we caught this before the first challenge."

"I'll handle this, Mr. Reynolds. It's not a big deal. He obviously doesn't mean any harm and honestly wants to get this right."

"I should still be here to supervise this," Mr. Reynolds said.

"Would you like a chair? My wife loses her shit when I mess up a suit and your feet and shoes are already soaked."

"And where would you get a chair?"

"There's no cameras right now. Let me do what I can do and you'll be sitting in under three minutes."

The lawyer chuckled, "Make me a throne and you got a deal."

Vegeta smirked and walked over to the pillar that the tides had worn away. He then descructo disked it off at the base, levitated it with his ki, and floated it over his head. "So, where do you want this?"

The panic, fear and dumbfounded awe in the group's faces made Vegeta laugh.

"My wife told me not to laugh… but this is too fun…" he took a deep breath to suppress it, "But seriously, where do you want thi—"

Vegeta suddenly dropped it behind him, did a poor attempt to look casual leaning against it and frantically pointed down the beach with his right hand without uncrossing his arms.

They turned and saw the red camera crew just finishing setting up, then signaling for Berapi to continue walking towards them. Michael was in the lead, Lisa and Becky in tow. Ichiro was right behind him, reminding him of Zarbon toting Frieza. Vegeta began comparing names for the group but shut that train of thought down quickly, until he saw that singer girl.

"Slave," was the alarm bell screaming through his brain he could not silence. A new one still in shock, a pretty girl a soldier would find and use during a cleansing then bring back for extra cash.

She had the bruised wrists; twisted, bent hair that could only come from messing with hair that had previously been concreted in place by hair spray; and a welt he knew from his experience with Earth women could only come from a hard slap across the face. He knew the torn clothes were given to her by the staff, but some memories made it difficult to remain rational.

Nappa always killed his bitches after he came across one and Raditz blew his paychecks on the broken ones who survived long enough to be bought by brothels. He had thought about getting a kept woman as a teenager. Females that savvy had to have enough brain cells for a decent conversation, but he concluded she would be a weak point for his coup, either as leverage or a spy.

As the Prince and the Brief battled his brain into a blue screen, the group arrived.

Michael took his frozen gaze in his general direction as petrified fear.

"Well lookie here, isn't the king of the hill? So, how's that city coming?"

Vegeta's eyes were still locked on Sugar Petal, who unfortunately was in Michael's sight line at the back of the group.

"What's wrong? That little night in the woods scare some sense into you? I can't help you with that, but if you were to pledge your allegiance to me—"

The sudden memory of getting his hair pulled and the phantom pain shooting up his back jolted him from his mental freeze. Vegeta turned his head to look directly in his face. "What the fuck did you just say?"

Michael realized from the head turn that Vegeta was not actually intimidated by him, but he did not show it.

"I was saying," he lightly chuckled, "that since last night obviously put the fear of God back in you, I might just consider allowing you back into camp if you swear loyalty to me."

"What makes you think I'm even remotely scared enough to come crawling back to you?"

"Uh, your face, duh," Becky snipped.

"Who put the clouds in your coffee this morning?" Vegeta snapped back. "Stay out of this."

"What the heck does that even mean?" Michael asked.

Sugar Petal's face lit up. "I know! I know!" She began to rock from side to side. She sang, "You're so Vain! You probably think this song is about you. You—"

Michael turned and raised his fist but stopped. Sugar Petal was well in the back of the group completely out of reach, but she yipped, ducked and raised her arms to protect her head.

Next thing Vegeta remembered, several people were trying to pull him off of a person he had pinned on his stomach and was pressing his face into the wet sand. He let up and Michael gasped deeply as air finally became available to his lungs. A crewman gave him a water bottle to clean his face.

Vegeta stumbled to the other side of the rock and fell to his knees.

"Get security!" several people shouted into their radios.

Michael stood without even a bruise on him, "I'm going to make sure you spend the rest of your life in prison!"

Vegeta sat down on the sand, took his bandana pouch and tossed it and the knife away from him. "My knife is in that."

Sarah grabbed it.

Vegeta sat calmly while the staff struggled with a raging Michael and Lisa. Sugar was in the back crying into the arms of a staff member as Becky screamed obscenities at her saying this was her fault Vegeta attempted to kill Michael. Everyone else was frozen, but Ichiro was glaring at Vegeta.

One cameraman focused on Michael and Lisa being contained by the staff. Another did the same for Becky. The third filmed Vegeta sitting perfectly still. The fourth was filming Sugar Petal crying, while the rest was filming the controlled chaos in general.

Mr. Reynolds asked for a hand radio. He got one and stepped into the trees. Vegeta heard him ask for more boats to take the entire red team and film crew to the main island and to be prepared to zip tie at least three others and that Vegeta personally was being completely calm and compliant. He then began talking to someone of a superior rank judging by the fear and contrition in his voice as he relayed what just happened. He then switched to an authoritarian voice and ordered that corporate did not want the police involved and to isolate the team from any sources of contact on the resort.

Security came in two boats with two others with just a pilot. Vegeta silently obeyed being zip tied behind his back and was loaded into one boat. After a lot of screaming and threats of being zip tied as well, Michael, Lisa and Becky entered the second security boat. The staff and the rest of the team loaded into the other boats and the beach was abandoned leaving the net partially floating in the water.


Meanwhile, at the resort…

"Wow, this place is huge. I had no idea the crew lived in places like this."

"Yes, Mr. Yamcha," a staff member in a suit said, "Now keep your ID around your neck at all times. Your producer chief assistant crew shirts will not be enough to freely walk around."

Yamcha was gawking at the resort. He hadn't been in a place like this since Bulma dumped him for Vegeta.

The resort was one huge island. The main building was at least 20 stories and built in a three-pointed star to maximize waterfront views. The bottom three floors contained a circular extension to the building that stretched halfway to the pointed ends. Out in the water, he thought he saw houses.

"What's out there?" he pointed.

His guide looked. "Oh, those are the private island suites being used as Contorta this year."

His luggage and the rest of the crew shirts he was given were being brought into the hotel when he saw the boats arrive on the breach. He spots Vegeta being escorted by armed security.

Yamcha disappeared, startling his guide. He blinked into existence in front of the group scaring everyone but Vegeta. The guards raised their guns.

"Stand aside!"

"I was hired specifically to handle Vegeta. Now what's going on? Why haven't I been contacted?"

"Yamcha…?" Vegeta said softly.

"You must be Yamcha. I'm Mr. Reynolds," he said walking up. "Lower your guns," he told the guards as he extended his hand and they shook. "Sorry this just happened."

"What happened?"

"That son of a bitch tried to kill me!" Michael shouted.

"Mister, I've known him for six years." Yamcha said skeptically, "If Vegeta wanted you dead, they'd never find your body."

"Save this for indoors," Mr. Reynolds ordered. "Head to the hotel. Each contestant in a different room with a guard. Toilet but no water, food and washing. Make sure to turn off the sinks underneath." He turned to Yamcha, "Talk with me privately once they are put away."


Yamcha followed them inside. Yamcha had never seen Vegeta so submissive. It was like he was looking at a completely different person.

"Why are you here?" Yamcha heard Vegeta's voice in his head.

"Are you telepathic?" he thought, shocked.

"Yes."

"No cussing or calling me stupid?"

"Not worth it… I… I fucked up."

"Are you all right?" Mr. Reynolds asked.

Yamcha realized he had stopped walking. "Sorry, I didn't realize Vegeta was telepathic," he whispered.

Mr. Reynolds' eyes widened.

"Vegeta what happened?"

"Michael raised his arm to hit the girl and she ducked and covered her head. Next thing I knew I was being pulled off him.

"Vegeta, if you were protecting someone this is not your fault."

"But he's human, he couldn't have closed that distance."

"That… would be an issue."

Vegeta was loaded into the elevator. He looked Yamcha in the eyes. "Yamcha. Earth women do not react like that. Something is very wrong with that girl. Find out what."

Yamcha nodded.

The door closed and he was taken up.

"Why did you nod?" Mr. Reynolds asked.

"Vegeta thinks the girl isn't acting normally. He wants me to find out why and protect her."

"If any altercation went beyond the scope of the contract, it would have been stopped."

"What do you mean by 'any altercation'? I never mentioned violence."

"And you said the word 'protect'," Reynolds retorted. "Minor physical violence like grabbing and shoving people is allowed this season. According to the film crew, Sugar Petal was slapped across the face this morning by a female teammate for letting the fire go out."

"That shouldn't have made her jump like Vegeta said she did."

"That is beyond our legal responsibility. And remember you work for us too. You signed the NDA."

Yamcha saw the others get loaded into the elevators. "Is that her? The one in the pigtails?"

"Yes."

Yamcha studied her until the door closed. "She's definitely timid. Can I see the videos?"

"Videos are edited in the dining room. Head of security and the lower producers are waiting there."

"And Mr. Provost?"

"He was just fired by corporate. I'm in charge of the show now."

"What? What happened?"

"Vegeta caused an incident that got him fired about an hour ago."

"Kami…"


They entered the dining room. The video team was in the middle of downloading their video as the heads of security took statements.

One man saw them and walked over. He was huge, well over six feet, wide-shouldered and looked like a muscle builder. He nodded, "Mr. Reynolds, sir. The editors are isolating the incident video as we speak." He turned to Yamcha. "So you're the man who shouted down my men." He extended his hand, "Arnold Schneider. Head of security."

Yamcha took the handshake and as he predicted, the man tried to crush his hands to intimidate him. Yamcha smiled and easily crushed his hand back to the man's shock. "Yamcha, Z-Fighter squadron of Earth Special Forces."

He rubbed his hand, "So you fight aliens, huh? So why is this guy here?"

"Vegeta was originally hired as an under-the-table mercenary, but was given citizenship for his heroism and is now part of my unit."

"But he destr—!"

"His subordinate did, who he killed because he did that against orders. It was a supply raid for the revolt against an empire that Earth joined a few months later. I've known this guy for close to a decade. Is he an asshole? Yes. Do I like him? No. Is he in any way dangerous? No way in fucking hell."

"Then why did he attack Michael? Witnesses say he was over 10 feet away from that girl."

"Distances like that mean absolutely nothing in the rest of the galaxy. If the girl reacted like she was in immediate physical danger despite that distance, then he acted on instinct because in his life experience she WAS in immediate physical danger."

"That doesn't matter. This is Earth. That stuff doesn't happen here."

Yamcha laughed, "Are you serious?"

"Just stop arguing." Mr. Reynolds warned. "Let's just look at the video evidence. That will make it final."

"Stuff's ready!" someone shouted.

They walked to the monitors. They first watched a view from the side.

Michael was in the front of the group. Sugar Petal was in the back. Vegeta had a dazed look on his face until Michael said something that snapped him out of it. They talked until Becky commented and Vegeta made a reference in response. Sugar Petal recognized the song and began the chorus.

Michael rotated his body and raised his left arm. Sugar Petal screamed and ducked covering her head. Vegeta lunged and grabbed his left arm at the wrist, knocked him to the sand and wristed the arm behind his back. A classic takedown.

Then he pressed Michael's face deep into the wet sand almost to his ears while screaming incoherently as people instinctively tried to pull him off. Vegeta continued to foam at the mouth for over a minute until he relented.

"Welp. That's open and shut," Schneider said, wiping his hands together. "Guy's spending the next decade in prison." He smiled as he reached for his hand radio. Suddenly a hand grabbed his arm. He was startled seeing Yamcha, who had been standing multiple feet away, magically appear in front of him. His mouth hung open, his wide eyes silently screaming "How?"

"I want another angle," Yamcha said. "Is there one from the front or the rear?"

"Both," the technician said.

"Is there one that shows the line of sight?"

"There's one over Vegeta's shoulder."

"Show that one." Yamcha said, letting go of his hand and leaning over the table.

This one a cameraman had walked around the rock and was filming around the edge.

From this angle, when Sugar Petal started to sing, the others took a step back to look at her, giving a clear line of sight from Michael to her. He turned and raised his hand, but not in a fist. His index, middle finger and his thumb were out. She screamed and ducked out of the way behind the other players. Vegeta again leaped forward grabbing the left hand first before he did anything else.

Yamcha stood straight then made the same hand gesture looking at his palm. Then he rotated his wrist and looked at the back of his hand. "I know why Vegeta jumped." He said lowering his arm. "That hand gesture is a kill move."

"Kill move?!" Schneider said in disbelief, "She's over 10 feet away." He then pointed in Yamcha's face, "And don't say 'because he's an alien'. Michael's a human. Humans can't do that shit."

Yamcha smiled, "So hypothetically, if a human COULD do that shit. You would change your mind and say Vegeta's actions were reasonable?"

"IF… But like I said, that's not possible," he crossed his arms and chuckled.

Yamcha turned to Mr. Reynolds smiling. "Can we take this outside?"


They walked outside the large double doors out to a large sitting area with umbrella tables. Yamcha saw a large decorative rock outcropping several feet tall. He went over and walked around it. There was nothing behind it but open beach and ocean.

"Found our spot!" he said, waving. He began moving the tables and chairs.

"And what are we doing?" Schneider asked skeptically.

"We are going to recreate this and I am going to show you exactly why Vegeta jumped."

"If we are doing this, we are going to film this from all angles," Mr. Reynolds said. He walked back to the doors. "We need five cameras now! And 10 stand-ins!"

After all the tables and chairs were moved, Yamcha helped set up the crew members.

"Now," he began, "At the moment of the attack, everyone had stepped aside, giving an unobstructed line between Michael and the girl… Sugar Petal, right?"

Mr. Reynolds nodded, "Yes. Her name is Sugar Petal."

"Ok everyone is in the right spot?"

A staff member looked at the feed and compared it to the paused footage. "Good at this angle." The other two said the same.

"Ok! I'm going to take Michael's spot," Yamcha said, "Sugar person, move away from the rock."

The two people moved out of the way.

Yamcha took the position. "Ok Michael stood here like this and made this motion. Correct?"

"It's a perfect match!" the man at the monitors said.

"Ok! Everyone watch this!" he shouted.

Yamcha stood in position and took the pose. This time instead of stopping with his arm upright, he followed through and pointed his arm at where Sugar's stand-in had been. Suddenly a bright beam of light erupted from his fingers.

A loud boom sent people screaming and ducking. When the light faded, everyone was slack jawed as there was now a giant circular hole in the rock with molten, dripping edges. Behind it where the beam hit the beach was a glassed trench leading into the violently churning ocean as water filled in a large chasm.

Everyone was pale and shaking.

Schneider fell on his butt. "That's not possible…" he stuttered.

"This is why Vegeta grabbed his hand!" Yamcha said, holding up his left hand. "This hand gesture plus that girl diving out of the way triggered his instincts that this," he pointed at the hole, "was about to happen! Why else would a girl react that she was about to die at such a distance if this man wasn't about to blast her head off!"

Yamcha dropped his arm and walked over to Schneider, "So about saying what Vegeta did was a reasonable reaction?" He smiled.

"That's not possible. That… That has to be a trick!"

"Just out of curiosity, how do you think Earth defended itself these past few thousand years if humans weren't capable of this same stuff?"

"Then you have to be an alien too!" he pointed. "Humans can't do this shit!"

"Arnold, calm down!" Mr. Reynolds said, shakily coming to his feet. "I know that was fucking terrifying," he said generally waving his hand in the direction of the hole. Then he pointed at Yamcha, "But he is a member of Earth's Special Forces. So, he should know how to do this shit too." He grabbed a chair and sat down. "Oh, my god…" he said with his hand on his chest breathing hard.

Yamcha turned around. "Are you ok Mr.—"

Bang!

Yamcha ducked and ran a few steps before turning around.

Schneider had a smoking pistol in his hand.

"What the fuck, Dude—"

Schneider opened up.

Yamcha caught all the bullets and ran forward. He crushed the gun and kneed him in the gut. Schneider went down... and did not get up.

"What are you guys waiting for?! Zip tie Arnold and get him out of here!" Reynolds shouted from under a table.

Everyone still hesitated.

"Now!"

Two guards walked over, checked his vitals, then dragged him off by his arms.

"Are you alright, Yamcha?" Mr. Reynolds said, stepping out from his table.

"Yeah, I'm good," he said, dropping the bullets. They were flattened like they had hit a solid wall. He began feeling around in his hair, "Felt the other hit my head, but I don't know where it went. Oh wait." He began feeling his back, "There's something in my shirt." He hopped up and down a few times and pulled out his tucked polo shirt. A bullet rolled out between his feet. "Ah there it is. All bullets accounted for."

"How can you be so casual about getting shot like that?" one of the stand-ins asked, stepping out from behind the rock.

Yamcha laughed nervously scratching the back of his head, "Well it's not like it can hurt me, he he he. But I guess this looks pretty bad for a normal person, huh?"

"That's an understatement!" a woman said, also peeking out from behind the rock.

"He he he, well this idea went haywire. Why don't we head back inside and get some drinks and calm down and stuff?"

"Yes, calm would be good," Mr. Reynolds said, "Everyone inside for a break!"


Inside, everyone was drinking and having a snack.

Yamcha and Mr. Reynolds were having tea.

A security guard came up, "Sir. We have the first videos of the interrogations."

"Is Vegeta's available?"

"Yes."

"I'll watch that first," he said standing up.

Yamcha began standing up as well.

"Stay here Yamcha. You've done your part as a consultant, but you're not making this decision."

Yamcha sat back down.

"I will view these in my private office," he told the guard and walked off.


Mr. Reynolds took the USB he was given and slipped it into his laptop. He clicked on Vegeta's MP4.

Off Camera questioner: State your name for the camera.

Vegeta: I am Prince Vegeta the Fourth of the Saiyans. Also known as Vegeta Brief of Earth.

Questioner: What happened today in your own words.

Vegeta: I saw his hand move. She screamed.

Long silence.

Questioner: What happened next?

Vegeta: You pulled me off.

Questioner: What happened in-between?

Vegeta: I don't know.

Questioner: You were screaming something not in English. What did you say?

Vegeta: I don't remember.

Questioner: If we played back the video could you translate?

Vegeta: Yes.

*plays back tape*

Vegeta: Don't touch that pretty slave girl you fucking, name translates as a superior rank, you already have two kept hoes. If you're going to beat someone, do it to your own bitches.

Questioner: You're a prince, who would be of a superior rank?

Vegeta: My father was just a planetary king. That's barely more than a slave to a galactic emperor like Frieza and the main army. I was nothing to everyone but my own kind.

Questioner: What made you think of Sugar Petal as a slave?

Vegeta: Everything. I've seen that look millions of times.

Questioner. We're you involved in the slave trade of women?

Vegeta: Not personally. Neither was my unit. Everyone but Nappa preferred the broken spirits of the brothels. I never asked if they paid the extra to kill them.

Questioner: You did not visit these brothels?

Vegeta: I was a virgin when I gifted myself to my wife.

Questioner: And this Nappa?

Vegeta: He liked them fresh. He's the reason we never took back any live girls for extra pay on our assignments.

Questioner: So, he would rape and kill these women?

Vegeta: Yes.

Questioner: Why didn't you intervene?

Vegeta: Because it would be wrong.

Questioner presses: Why is it wrong?

Vegeta: This planet's morality is the exact opposite to what the rest of the galaxy considers normal, good and just. Here, Napa is the photographic definition of a psychopathic devil, the very definition of evil. For everywhere else in the universe… it's me. *Vegeta looks at his hands* I can't control it anymore. My body moved on its own. *Puts his hands in his hair on his dipped head* I protected that girl… I want my wife. I want my Bulma. *Vegeta stands* Give me my Bulma!"

Questioner: We will get you in contact with your Bulma, just stay calm.

Vegeta: "I want my Bulma!"

*Camera is knocked over and the video cuts out.*

Mr. Reynolds reached for his phone. "Get the on-site psychologist to review Vegeta's files, especially his psychological profile and Bobby's notes on why he was chosen and his plans for his interaction dynamics."

He then clicked on Michael's MP4.

Questioner: State your name for the camera.

Michael: Michael

Questioner: Describe in your own words what happened today.

Michael: That fucking bastard tried to kill me!

Questioner: Please elaborate.

Michael: That girl started with Becky again so I raised my hand to order them to stop. Then that psycho tackled me and pressed my face into the sand. I couldn't breathe.

Questioner: How would Sugar Petal know what that hand sign would mean?

Michael: It's a universal hand sign for ordering a woman to be silent. Unfortunately… It has become more than clear that girl has never been taught how to properly appreciate a man. But with the help of the women, that should be corrected shortly.

Questioner: What do you mean corrected?

Michael: *Immediately tensing up* What does that have to do with anything?! Vegeta tried to kill me! End of story!

Questioner: Sugar Petal reacted as if she was in physical danger. Why—"

Michael: *pointing at the questioner* Look you, I'm not some retarded illegal. Unlike animals, humans don't need to resort to violence to teach respect. We are more cultured and know resorting to violence is the mark of a LESSER intelligence. She can be taught appreciation and respect easily enough.

Questioner: I will ask again. Why did—"

Michael: *stands and starts pacing back and forth, pointing and screaming* Look you fucking retard! Vegeta tried to suffocate me which is against the rules, while we have obeyed everything! This is fucking Last Survivor! Not Barney! Now get out of my hotel room!"

Questioner: This is not your hotel room! And you are under our guard! Start obeying us or you will be kicked off this show!

Mr. Reynolds stopped the video. "Ok, then." He clicked on Sugar Petal's.

Questioner: Alright, state your name for the camera.

Sugar Petal: *Does an anime magical girl pose* I am Sugar Petal!"

Questioner: Now in your own words, what happened today?

Sugar Petal: Nothing happened today. Everything is perfect.

Questioner: *confused* Ms. Sugar Petal, please describe what happened in the incident where Vegeta grabbed Michael.

Sugar Petal: Nothing like that happened. Everything is perfect."

Questioner: Ms. Sugar Petal, we have video of the incident. Now please describe what happened.

Sugar Petal: Nothing like that happened. Everything is perfect. Your video is fake. Made by computers.

Questioner: Ms. S—

Sugar Petal: No! Nothing like that happened. Everything is perfect.

Questioner: Ma'am

Sugar Petal: Nothing like that happened! Everything is perfect!

Questioner: *long silence* Ok, ma'am. Then how is everything perfect?

Sugar Petal: Everything is perfect! What needs to be explained? Nothing like that happened!"

Mr. Reynolds stopped the video. He clicked on another.

Questioner: State your name for the camera.

Ichiro: My name is Ichiro.

Questioner: Now in your own words, what happened today?

Ichiro: As much as I liked Michael getting his face shoved in the sand, having Vegeta do it was freaking terrifying. That bastard killed millions, probably billions, but he barely hurt the guy. I don't get it.

Questioner: You don't like Michael?

Ichiro: It's only day 2 and he's already on a fucking power trip. But with the spoiled brat patrol and that lobbyist, they have the voting block. So, we just do what they say and try not to piss them off. But they're better than that Vegeta being in charge. That's for sure.

Questioner: And Sugar Petal? Why did she react like that?

Ichiro: Michael's been working her hard and she's being bullied by the brat patrol. She's a lost little girl who has no business doing this. Michael always has one of his squad guarding the food and water. He gives out rice grains and water like counting pennies and she hasn't gotten anything. She's probably drank so much water now that she's here, she's puked it up."

Questioner: You haven't helped her?

Ichiro: Honestly, as nasty as it sounds, the sooner she is out of here the better. Since quitting isn't allowed, her getting medivaced out for dehydration after a few days or getting diarrhea from drinking from the mosquito pond out back is the best thing that can happen to her. Or at least that's what Michael said. I feel bad about it, but he's right. Doesn't mean the brat patrol can't just ease up on her a little.

Questioner: This brat patrol has done a lot more than bully her.

Ichiro: *exasperated* I'm the one that pulled Becky off of her! What else did you want me to do? Send a line drive into her skull like how she put little Sugar-chan down?!"

Mr. Reynolds stopped the video again. He looked at the ceiling, pitched the bridge of his nose and sighed.


Mr. Reynolds stood to pace when he was surprised by a knock at his door. He opened the door and saw the psychologist holding a yellow note pad.

"May I come in?"

"Yes." He opened the door.

Mr. Reynolds sat on his desk chair. The psychologist sat on the bed.

"Vegeta's professional evaluation is missing. Only the intake notes, and it looks to me they have been very poorly altered by someone who did not know how these are professionally formatted."

Mr. Reynolds sighed, "So… he probably failed but was pushed through anyway… wouldn't be the first time this season," he added under his breath. "What still exists in the notes?"

"No PTSD listed in Vegeta's file, but that's one of the sections altered. But personality is listed as proud, moody, ill-tempered, inflexible, distrustful, loud, stubborn and argumentative. Trained fighter, he is registered as a deadly weapon. But that isn't unusual for martial artists and military contestants. Daisuke is as well. Daily nightmares and disruptive sleep. Very jumpy, does not like someone nearby without him knowing of their presence. But now that we know he is a soldier who's seen violent combat, that's some big red flags.

"Conclusion notes mark him for final selection and say if provoked by an opposing personality, will cause great drama but will result in being voted out quickly. But physical and mental strength will likely help carry his team through challenges and may make his survival more likely at voting, extending his stay. Will not survive merger at the latest. To group him with belligerent but non-violent teammates to produce the most drama for ratings."

"Bobby was seriously planning on provoking a mentally unstable man who's registered as a deadly weapon?"

"Apparently... I also found notes about the pairings for Berapi." He flipped the page, "Vegeta and Michael were deliberately paired to come into conflict. He predicted the bullying of Sugar Petal, hoping it would rise to the level of 'predatory'. Quote 'Charming but emotionally manipulative' and 'the perfect timid victim'. He cites family interviews and behind the scene information from his time on the Lover's Oasis for this conception of Michael, but there are no transcripts or documents from that show. He does mention his estranged younger brother specifically, but his information is missing unlike the other family visitors he greenlighted."

"His estranged brother is the family visitor?"

"Yes. But in its place seemed to be the veterinary papers and travel documents for a Great Dane."

Reynolds sighed, "Continue."

"Vegeta, Hassim and Ichiro would break into one camp around protecting Sugar and Sam, Becky, and Lisa, who he described as rich social leeches, would side with Michael. Michael has a pattern of using others to externally manipulate personal relationships to his advantage. Lisa is also known for the same thing through her lovers in the film industry. Becky has a history of angry outbursts and violence according to her files brought over from her other tv show, namely slapping across the face. It also highlights one episode where she threw a chair in a restaurant into a large saltwater aquarium shattering it and doing over ten grand in damages. She also has a history of quote 'negatively-themed posts directed at others' on social media and would bring that mindset into the game once a target is presented'. The quote 'negatively-themed posts' is deliberately vague, but the addition of the word target hints strongly at cyberbullying. But… Also… There's a lawsuit mentioned were she and her mother are named for poisoning another castmember's Chihuahua with tylenol wrapped in deli meat. It's what got the show put on hiatus."

"Oh Jesus Christ… Bobby... Let me guess, her mom is her visitor?"

"Yes."

"And the others?"

"Nothing about Sam directly siding with Michael, but does list him as a possible opposite match to Hassim for some reason, but I see nothing in his personal data to support that assumption. Seems he based it entirely on his history of representing his company at the capital and various political conferences."

Mr. Reynolds gave a sound half way between a chuckle and a huh. "So… Berapi's dynamic?"

"There have been complaints from the crew over Sugar Petal's treatment, but it has been within bounds once reviewed, although it comes right up to the line. She's already been slapped by Becky. But I think more importantly, the team has decided as a group to deliberately deny Sugar Petal food and water and forced her to sleep outside of the shelter last night. From the secret video from yesterday, there is a conspiracy to basically work her to near death to force a medevac to pull a double elimination with Vegeta. Michael, Lisa and Becky are also trying to 'break her soul' to quote Becky to accelerate her physical collapse. But her use of the phrase 'Nothing is happening. Everything is Perfect.' is odd. She speaks perfect English. It might be a direct translation of a Korean phrase, but honestly, we have no idea.

"Hassim…"

Suddenly, there was a quick knock as the door opened. "Mr. Reynolds, just letting you know the medical team is treating Sugar Petal. She's being given medications to induce vomiting."

"What? Why?"

"She…" the man's face twisted in disgust. "She was caught drinking from the toilet. They are trying to get the water out of her stomach before it enters her system. If the medications don't work, the medical team is preparing to forcibly pump her stomach and give medication to deliberately dehydrate her."

Mr. Reynolds nodded. "Thank you for the update. You may go."

The man nodded and closed the door.

"A popstar drank from the toilet?" the psychologist picked his jaw off the floor. "I… I guess she's more suited for this game than we thought."

"Continue," he ordered.

"Oh. Hassim has been at odds with Becky, who has repeatedly called him a terrorist. Seems Michael has also manipulated him into using his prayer rug for the bottom of the shelter. It was Hassim's understanding he would get it back as needed, but Michael has prevented it. Michael…" he took a breath, "Is constantly carrying the machete, but only "casually gesturing with it", the crews' words, with Hassim. This prompted Hassim to ask for his spare rug, but the crews have denied it even though a man with a machete and a violent woman stands between him and it."

"Only deliberately deadly physical harm is prohibited…" Mr. Reynolds said, shaking his head. "Jesus, Provost tempted fate loosening the rules and now we have Attila the Hun facing off against Lex Luthor in some bad anime plot."

"Yes. But Mr. Reynolds. Becky also said 'to Cinderella her with no Prince Charming to save her'. In my opinion… as unstable as he is… Vegeta is a prince."

"Thank you. Please leave your notes."

He handed him his notepad and left the room.


Reynolds flipped through the notes. Then he walked over to his printer and scanned them. He went to his computer and after checking the quality of the PDFs, began writing his incident report.

Over an hour later, he gathered everything into a file. Then he picked up his cell phone.

"Good evening Mr. Terrance… Yes I've finished my investigation and am ready to email my findings… I am also prepared for a video conference with the board about my conclusions… Yes, I'm emailing it now… And it is sent… Alright, I await your review." He placed the phone down.

After an hour of waiting, his phone rang. "Yes sir…" He took a nervous breath. "Yes, sir. I can pull it up now sir."

Reynolds pulled up the video program and found an invite to a group chat. He opened it and was confronted with a split screen of eight faces.

"Good Morning, sirs."

"Good afternoon," Mr. Terrance said. He took a long breath. "I must say I gave you a much more difficult task than I expected. Discovering an alien contestant and becoming entangled with Earth's Special Forces is beyond any sane man's imagination."

"I hope I have performed to expectations."

"Now, your recommendations to allow Vegeta to continue on was surprising for a by-the-book individual like yourself."

"I believe Vegeta's training and combat experience gave him an automatic response to the situation, and that as Yamcha's demonstration showed, he had probable cause although his observation proved mistaken. The footage of the incident showed it was not a violent attack but a takedown of a perceived assailant."

"He seems to have PTSD, for lack of a better word," one of the board members said.

"But with the power he obviously has, this episode showed he is not dangerous," another said. "Minus some sand in his mouth, Michael is completely unharmed. Not even a bruised wrist."

"You also included your assessment of the wider situation," a third board member said. "You were critical of Robert Provost's decisions about grouping the Red Team?"

"Yes, sir. He planned this whole thing. The blue team was matched for teamwork and cohesion while the red team was designed to completely fall apart with Michael and Sugar Petal to be the trigger. A smooth talking, psychopathic predator and the perfect timid victim. Vegeta, Hassim and Ichiro would break into one camp around protecting Sugar and Sam, Becky, and Lisa, who he described as rich social leeches, would side with Michael.

However, it seems he did not foresee Vegeta physically leaving and set up a 3rd camp."

"Or him being an alien," Mr. Terrance said, "Tell us about this Yamcha."

"He is a member of Earth's Special Forces and a personal friend to Ichiro. He was contacted after a disagreement between Vegeta and staff and was hired as an emergency consultant. However, it seemed Robert deliberately delayed implementation of his first advice to inflame the incident for more drama footage."

"How long was this delay?"

"It doesn't give the exact time of the incident, but it wasn't acted on till the next morning."

"Where is this Yamcha now?"

"Down with the rest of the crew in the dining hall. You've reviewed his demonstration video?"

"Yes. It was… an effective demonstration," he said. "Vegeta clearly moved on instinct to restrain… when he could have so easily injured or killed Michael. We have reviewed your report and we agreed the safest thing for now is for Vegeta to stay on under strict supervision. The story told to the rest of the Red Team will be that he is a retired classified agent with PTSD who reacted on instinct to Michael's aggressive moves based on Sugar Petal's reaction to immediate danger. And remind them heavily of the NDA they all signed. Do not let Vegeta know about this half-truth. With him at a separate camp, the only interaction they will have is at competitions. Keep those two apart and have this Yamcha there on set just in case."

"So to confirm, we're continuing operations as if this didn't happen?" Mr. Reynolds asked, slightly surprised.

"Drawing attention to this will only make things worse. There's enough scandal right now with Robert's firing and Vegeta's become a viral hero under the hashtag #whaledad. Also as a precaution, I believe telling Sugar Petal of Vegeta's camp location and preparing him for her arrival would be prudent."

"I will sir." Reynolds nodded.

"The News Division is also scrambling for an interview. Make sure Vegeta politely declines."

"I will."

"Then this meeting is over. Call me if either refuses the arrangement."

The screen disconnected and Reynolds leaned back in his chair and sighed. After a few moments he stood and went to the door. He asked for security and was taken to Vegeta's room.


"So how boned am I?" Vegeta asked, seeing him walk in.

Reynolds closed the door. "Actually, the corporate board has ruled you will be staying."

"What?!"

"Yamcha convinced the board your takedown of Michael was justified. And the NDA will protect you from lawsuits by Michael, so don't worry. But we do have to talk about two things. First, when you left the group, you said you would be building a second camp in case of flooding."

"Correct."

"I've been instructed to tell Sugar Petal its location for her own safety, will you be willing to let her in?"

"Is she being abused, to use the Earth word?"

"It is still within the rules of the game, but her first days have been unpleasant."

"I'll take her in right now."

"It will be her choice," Reynolds said, "So be prepared for her to show up at any time."

Vegeta nodded, "And number two?"

"The incident with the whale has blown up. Bobby has been fired for his suicide comments and GBS News wants an interview for the evening broadcast."

Vegeta's eyebrows narrowed, "Is this an order or a request?"

"It is the opinion of the corporate board that you should politely decline."

"I wouldn't give it even if it was an order. I'm going to have almost no time as it is to untangle that net and get the roof up," Vegeta looked at the clock. "Sun sets at 6 and it's already 2. I only have about three hours of useable light."

"Actually, it would have to be tomorrow before the first competition starts. It is going to rain tonight."

Vegeta sat up straight. "How much?"

"Less than a tenth of an inch. Although I fully agree with your assessment of the primary camp's location, the rules say I cannot intervene to force a move. But if the rain will be heavy, we can warn them to look out in advance."

"That is more than the other guy would do, so I won't be picky." Vegeta processed the first half of the sentence. "Wait… An elimination already?"

"No, it's the first reward challenge. The challenges alternate every three days."

Vegeta paused. "Six multiplied by 12 is more than twice as long than the normal 39 days."

"We have it planned out so that it will count down to the proper time listed in the contract."

"Actually… I don't remember a timetable for the filming itself listed when the contract was read to me."

Vegeta studied him.

Mr. Reynolds judged from his face he had just decided against some action.

"If we're done talking, I'd like to get the roof over my head as soon as possible," Vegeta said.

"Of course," he said standing, "Security is waiting to take you to your boat. It's best you leave before everyone else."

Vegeta stood and followed him out the door where they were greeted by security. Vegeta left with them and Reynolds walked to Sugar Petal's room.

"Hello, Sugar Petal," he said, closing the door.

Sugar Petal sat up from the bed, "Hello, Mr. Lawyer."

He pulled up a chair, "How have you been?"

"Everything is perfect!" she said smiling.

"I see. Sugar Petal, listen, I don't know why you feel you must say that, but it is clearly obvious that everything is not perfect."

"I have no idea what you are talking about," she said smiling.

"Well this is a secret, do not tell ANY of your teammates. But if you ever feel unsafe, walk behind your camp until you find a large stream. Follow it down stream until you find the staff ATV track. Walk another half mile and you will find Vegeta's camp. That's about a mile total. Do you understand?"

"Yes…" she said blankly, "I understand..."

"Good," he said standing. "Let's get everyone back to your camp then."


Vegeta walked into his boat and sat down. "I was told to tell you your knife and the net you found are waiting for you at your camp," Yamcha said. "You and Michael are supposed to stay away from each other and no acts of retribution will be tolerated."

"Yamcha, I don't know what you did to stop me from being arrested, but Bulma will be appreciative."

"I'm just staff, I didn't have anything to do with the decision."

Vegeta looked out over the water at the forming clouds. "Looks like rain."

"I can't give you any weather information. But you should hurry and get back to your camp. Sun sets early on the equator."

"I'll see you in a few weeks," Vegeta said. "Let's get going," he ordered the staff.

The boat took off.


Meanwhile, at Samundra…

The sun was shining and the waves were lightly lapping on the sand on a perfectly blue day.

Vickie was no longer coughing, but still not feeling well. She was minding the fire with Casey under the brand-new roof for it. To save wood, they let it burn low.

Jessica, who was now wearing Jerry's torn shirt tied close over her bikini top, was with Bob and Nick in the shade near the sleeping shelter. Bob and Nick were making woven palm mats for the sides of the fire shelter. Jessica had thrown the last of the seven palm hats into the pile and began to tear down more palm leaves into strips.

"What are you doing now?" Nick asked.

"Ponchos. Most of us are as close to naked as they can get us for broadcast TV. Especially you men."

"Good point. Jamal and Daisuke weren't even given a shirt," Bob said. "Make sure they get the first one."

"Shouldn't we pass them out by how pasty white someone is and not nakedness?" Nick asked.

"Don't you mean how bright red someone is?" Vickie asked.

Everyone half laughed.

"We Scored Fish!"

Everyone stepped out of the shelter and saw Daisuke and Jamal walking up the tree-shaded sand. Jamal was holding three palm sized fish by the gills while Daisuke was carrying a basket and two bamboo fishing spears with their ends sharpened into a hedgehog of spikes.

Daisuke said something and Jamal put them in the basket.

Everyone went back to what they were doing, except for Nick.

"Nick get back over here," Bob ordered, "Standing there won't make them walk faster."

Eventually, the two got back to camp.

"Great!" Nick said standing up, "How many did you get?" He grabbed the basket excitedly, but his face instantly dropped.

"Welcome back guys," Bob said.

"Three… three fish the size of cell phones…" Nick said, visibly disappointed.

"Not bad, considering we're using a stick," Bob said. He smiled and put his hand on Daisuke's shoulder, "You guys did great. Lie down. You must be exhausted."

"You can say that again," Jamal said sitting down, "There's no fish anywhere close to here."

Daisuke laid on his back, "The film boat actually warned us we were getting close to the east boundary when we did start finding fish."

"You ended up at the main river?" Casey said, turning around from the fire, "Jesus! You've had to swum over half a mile today. Rest Now! Vickie! Get the canteens!"

"We actually walked back," Jamal said. He turned to Bob. "Minus the mud hole at the stream, that swamp you thought was there was rather dry, just a little mud and a gordian's knot of tree roots. And almost no trash except near the water. I'd hate to be the guys who cleaned up that muddy mess into gameplay space."

"Bugs weren't that bad either," Daisuke said. "The staff probably drenched this place in so much bug spray we're all going to get cancer."

Everyone laughed before it turned into nervous chuckling as each of them realized that it was more than likely true.

Casey faked coughing to cover up the end of her laughter, "Well… then… Maybe we should try the stream next time instead of running out that far for fish. Jessica, you want to take a break and go find more coconuts?"

"The fish in the stream are like a quarter the size of the ones they brought in…" Nick said.

"Protein is protein out here Nick," Casey said. Then she thought of something, "Hey? Do you guys remember seeing any crawdaddies in the stream?"

"One shrimp basket coming up!" Jessica said.

"I'm allergic to shellfish," Vickie said.

"Then don't eat it!" Nick shouted.

"We only have one cooking pot!" Vickie shouted back.

"Hey, Jessica," Jamal said, turning around to look at her, "Can you make a cooking pot out of clay? You said you do pottery."

"If we can find the clay for it. Can't turn any piece of dirt into a pot."

Jamal jumped up, "Then let's go find…"

"Jamal!" everyone screamed as Bob, Casey and Nick all grabbed him before he hit his head. They help him down.

"Sorry," he said, holding his head, "I was fine, but then…"

"Vickie! Get the water!" Casey shouted. She turned to Jessica. "Jessica, we need coconuts! Lots of coconuts! Need to get food in them and you're the only one who eats Vegan crap and knows what edible ones look like!"

Jessica grabbed two hats and put one on. "Yeah. Let's find some young ones for them. They're going to need electrolytes from the coconut water after all of that." She handed the other to Casey.

"Ok, show me," Casey said, shoving it on her head.


Meanwhile, in West City…

Bulma was watching the evening news.

"Breaking news tonight:

"I will sue you so hard you'll need to shoplift the pills to commit suicide!"

Bobby Provost has been fired as producer of The Last Survivor, ending a three-generation dynasty of one of the longest lasting reality shows on Earth. The event that led to this was the viral videos of a contestant cutting a whale free of a fishing net then helping it give birth. Here is Jason Miller with the story.

*Story narrator* "Out in the waters of Indonesia a group of tour boats discover a whale badly tangled in a net heading towards shallow water.

"Is it going to beach itself?!"

"Anyone got a knife?!"

Then a man in his boxer shorts pops out of nowhere and begins cutting off the net with a stone knife.

"I got a swiss army knife buddy. You want it?"

Then the man holds up a red bandana with The Last Survivor logo on it.

"I can't touch your shit or I'll get disqualified."

"Wait, is that a Last Survivor buff?"

*pointing in the direction he came from* "Yeah we're filming over there."

The man begins making surprisingly fast work on the net with his knife. Then you hear the Indonesian tour guides on one boat start shouting.

"They say there's a baby in the water!" a guide on another boat shouts in English.

The man takes a deep breath and dives. These images were from the other tour boat's company website before it was taken down. Their ships carry underwater cameras for their guests to watch sea life. Highlighted here you can see a little tail sticking out of the larger whale. The man then attacks the net with his knife causing a great deal of bubbles. Then suddenly the net floats free and the man resurfaces and pulls it away. Then he dives again and helps pull the baby whale out and pushes it to the surface.

Everyone on the boats cheers seeing the baby whale blow air for the first time.

At this point boats arrive with crews wearing shirts with The Last Survivor logo on them with several security vests with assault rifles. Drones and helicopters appear and scare the whales off. Police arrive shortly after.

The crews then begin threatening the tour boats demanding they hand over all video taken. But when the police move to board the boats. The man in the water starts screaming and the police recognize him as a member of the Brief's family and suddenly refuses to confiscate the videos. When several young couples say they were live streaming, Provost starts screaming saying the infamous line:

"I will sue you so hard you'll need to shoplift the pills to commit suicide!"

The man in the water then says don't worry, and identifies himself to the tourists as the husband of Dr. Bulma Brief and son-in-law to the founder of Capsule Corporation, saying he'll pay from all legal fees and rattles off a phone number we've bleeped for broadcast. We did call that number and it was in fact the private number of none other than Dr. Boxer Brief himself. We were able to speak with him shortly over a camera phone app.

*Video of Dr. Brief in his office.* "I see, yes I've seen the video. Kinda hard not to look when your private cell phone has been ringing constantly all day… I'll need to change my number after we safely get in contact with those people.

"Are you mad he gave out your number?"

"No. No. He did the right thing. And if the production company tries anything, we'll be right there to take care of everyone."

"So do you think your son-in-law will win?

Dr. Brief laughs. "God no. He's not exactly known for his people skills and I doubt the others have the time and patience to let him grow on them. Only way I don't see him getting voted out the first week is if he provides some utility to make life easier at camp. Food, shelter, fire, that sort of stuff. It'll be funny to see what kinds of sunshine and rainbows he's added to this season in person when we head over."

"Are you his personal visitor?"

"No," Dr. Brief laughed again. "That's my daughter. But my grandson gets very hard to handle without Momma so we're all heading over. He hasn't realized he's not 2 anymore."

"Well, I hope your family has a good trip."

Dr. Brief nods, "Thank you."

"Dad!" Bulma shouted. "Why didn't you tell me this was happening?!" She ran out of the room.

"In related breaking news tonight, three police officers identified from the video were found dead after a standoff between local police and sector law enforcement. The men were part of the large corruption scandal that rocked the country's eastern provinces two years ago. The national government has promised full cooperation with sector and planetary federal law enforcement on how these men were free and still openly serving in law enforcement while simultaneously being reported to be in prison hundreds of miles away…"


Meanwhile, back in Indonesia...

Everyone was gathered in the lobby.

Michael chuckled, "Well. Well. I see a little balding chico is missing."

Reynolds walked up to them. "No. For one, he is not Hispanic. And two, he was taken back to the set early to avoid contact with you."

"What?! What do you mean he's staying!" Michael shouted.

"The board has reviewed all evidence and has ruled Vegeta had reasonable cause to believe Sugar Petal was in imminent danger and his tackling of you was justified."

"What the fuck?! I want to talk to Bobby!"

"Bobby has been fired. And this decision was made by GBS's corporate board. Can't go any higher than that."

"I'm going sue all—"

"If you threaten the staff of this show again YOU will be removed and have legal action leveled against you based on the contract you signed. So just calm down, get into the boat, and head back to your camp. Vegeta will be escorted to his and you are to stay away from each other except during challenges. His camp will be governed under the rules of an opposing team camp. There is to be no acts of theft and vandalism. There is to be no physical retribution and again, you are to stay away from each other."

Michael was so red it looked like he could die from an aneurysm at any moment but stayed silent.

Reynolds took a deep breath. "I will only say this once. Legally I can't, but for your own wellbeing I have to…" he paused for effect, "Vegeta is retired, from being the type of man whose entire life and career officially never happened. He left for PTSD. Like our government envoy," he stressed, "said, 'If he wanted you dead, we would never find the body'." Reynolds walked over and glared into Ichiro's eyes, "Now I must remind you of the NDA you all signed." He turned slowly, looking at the others one at a time, "And the consequences of breaking them. Now go back to your camp, and not another word of this." He looked at the nearest guard and pointed at the ocean, "Take them away."

The group was escorted to their boats and taken back to camp.


Vegeta was met by his camera crew on the beach and they followed him into his camp. The net was thrown under his platform in a jumbled mess and his knife was next to the dead fire pit.

He didn't say a word as he walked over to his piles of bamboo and vine and got to work. First, he attached the poles to the outside of the floor to form the supports, then he tied the roof poles across the top. He next made the A-frame and cut and tied bamboo strips to the roof. Vegeta then climbed down, grabbed his stone axe and walked off without warning, leaving the crew to scramble to catch up.

Vegeta walked back to the fan-like palms near the narrow beach. He began cutting them off, but leaving enough not to kill the plant. He made several trips until he had a large pile.

Then he put his hand on one of the trunks and kicked at the soil. Then he shook his head and walked away.

"What was that?" Leticia asked.

Vegeta glanced back at her then walked back to the tree. He patted the trunk. "These are edible. Heart of palm plants." He looked up at the remaining fans, "It's better to save these for after the bananas run out. The cores may be candy but the bitter casing needs to be washed to make it edible. That's where most of the mass is and no sense going through the effort of the other foods until the easy stuff is gone."

"What other foods?" she asks.

Vegeta smirked, "One of the things I've never understood about the rich is that they eat things poor people on the other side of the world would rather starve to death than touch in the name of being "exotic"," he used air quotes. "If the local plants briefing is anything to go by, your real estate agent sucked."

"As in the poison plants briefing?!" Leticia said. "If any of them are edible, there must be a special way to cook them that can't be replicated here."

"Well if they can't be replicated here then how do we know they are edible in the first place?" Vegeta smirked. "Can't get any more primitive than this." He picked up the piles and dragged them off.


"God! I'm starving!" Becky shouted sitting in the sand. She picked up a handful of sand and chucked it in Sugar Petal's direction. "Go get some damn coconuts, bitch! This is all your fault."

Sugar Petal raised her fist in the air and hopped, "Ok!"

"No go get more firewood," Michael ordered. "Fire first."

Sugar Petal nodded. Then she suddenly turned and walked to Ichiro and took his right hand into both of hers. "Beruto to no tanraku," she said quickly before walking away.

"What did she say?" his field producer asked.

Ichiro felt the item she pushed into his palm and realized it was a 9-volt battery.

"She asked me to get the fire started," he answered. "Sam, come on," Ichiro waved him over. "Let's go get fresh tinder."

"Oh," Sam said surprised, "Ok…"

Sam joined him and walked into the trees. "So how are we going to pull this off?"

"We got this. Don't worry. Just get the kindling."


Back at camp, Becky was sorting through the bowls.

"Becky, what are you doing?" Michael asked suspiciously.

"Scratching our initials into the bowls. I don't want Hassim touching anything of mine."

Michael sighed. "Fine…"

Michael walked over to Lisa who had laid down on her back with her knees up in the shade of the trees. He sat down next to her head leaning against a tree.

"Becky is scratching our initials into the bowls," he said. "Did you give permission for this?"

"I haven't talked to her since we landed."

"I'm concerned about Becky," Michael said. "I wasn't expecting her to punch Sugar Petal."

"She definitely lacks social grace," Lisa said. She tilted her head to glance at him. "Do you want to push her out?"

"Not yet," Michael said. "We don't know Ichiro enough to pull him in. And we don't have a good bead on Becky to weigh the cost of pursuing Hassim." He looked down at her, "What have you gotten out of her about her life?"

"She's completely self-absorbed," she sighed frustrated. "And blames everything on others. She said her TV show was taken off the air because another cast member's dog died and just railed at the owners for destroying her career and chance of marrying rich."

"Wait… they canceled a reality show over a pet's death. How the heck did it die? Just not film those people for a few episodes so they can mourn. That makes no business sense, especially for a show in that genre."

"I highly doubt it was the dog," Lisa said exasperated. "She's just blaming it."

Michael sighed. "Well… if you're calling her self-absorbed that's a bad sign."

"Oh very funny," Lisa reached up and lightly tapped the back of her fingers against his arm as he laughed.

Michael suddenly wheeled round and pinned her arms to the side and got in her face.

"You…" he said harshly.

Michael smirked as Lisa blanched.

"… are the only person I would ever let get away with that," he spoke playfully. Michael pressed his forehead to hers affectionately, "I'm going to need you the next few weeks to keep the other women in line." He stood and began to walk away, "You know how things actually are supposed to run."

Lisa laid still in the sand, eyes wide staring at the canopy.


The wind was picking up hard as Hassim slipped his shoes off and stepped onto a pile of palm leaves.

"Hello, Hassim."

"Sugar Petal?" he asked, surprised. "I didn't hear you come over." Hassim slipped his shoes back on. "How's the wood coming along? Do you need help?"

"All is good. But Hassim," she looked up at the swaying leaves. "I think it's going to rain."

Hassim looked up. "Yeah, it's not looking good for the fire."

"I know we can fix it tonight," she smiled. "But we need to keep it dry." She moved her hands like the top sides of a triangle. "Need straight sticks and palm leaves to make a house for it."

"Yeah, let's get that started," Hassim hurried over to her.

"What about those?" she pointed at the pile.

"Oh, I'm using those instead of my prayer rug that got nicked for the shelter."

Sugar Petal gasped and brought her fists to her face. "Did I interrupt you?! I'm so sorry!"

"Don't worry about it," Hassim tried to calm her down. "It's not like we have a clock. As long as I get it done, that's all that matters."

"But praying at the right time is important!"

"Yes, but I got permission from my Imam to just try and get it done and not worry about the exact times."

"What's an Imam?"

"A religious authority in my religion," Hassim smiled. "Don't worry, I'm not going to burn in hell for this."

"I'm sorry," Sugar Petal bowed. "I insulted you."

"No, really. It's fine. You haven't insulted me at all."

"A man's job is to give discipline. A woman's job is to be punished. I should have known a man would be forgiven for missing the times."

"What?! Sugar Petal, I promise that's not what Islam is."

"What is Islam?" she asked, peaking up.

Hassim was taken aback. He paused looking at her. He smiled and spoke gently. "A religion is a special way to honor God. My special way is called Islam. People who honor God by Islam are called Muslim. You remember me calling myself Muslim, correct?"

"Yes," she stood straight.

"What is your special way to honor God?"

"Church of Nahm. Everyone in the record label must baptize and worship under the Nahm."

"You said baptize. You honor God through Jesus?"

She nodded, "Yes and through the Nahm."

"And who are the Nahm?"

"The founders of the church. They own the record label. Wife of the president is the daughter of the current head. Many lesser sons in the government too."

"I see," Hassim spoke in his normal tone, "Let's get this fire shelter started before the storm hits."

Sugar Petal hopped in the air and raised her fist, "Ok!"

Hassim chuckled, "Let's go."

As Sugar Petal walked in front of him, he gave a short sigh. "Nothing you can do about this, Hassim," he thought. "It's her religion and you'll never see her again after these next few weeks… if you even make it that long."


"Ow. Ow. Ow. Tingles."

"Shut up Sam," Ichiro said as he held the bundle over the short-circuiting battery.

Michael was leaning over everything ready to blow. He was also blocking the cameras from seeing what was going on.

Suddenly it went up in flames.

"Ah my belt!" Sam yanked it out.

Michael grabbed two bundles of dry, brittle palm fronds and picked up the flaming ball and tossed it in the waiting firepit.

"Wait the!" Ichiro reached out but the flames spread into a roar. Ichiro dropped his hand. "And it's gone…"

"What's gone?" one of the field producers demanded.

Ichiro looked up and saw all the suspicious daggers being thrown at them.

"The rock," he answered.

"Lisa get the water going," Michael ordered.

"Bury it in big sticks first," Ichiro said, scrambling to a small pile left over from the morning. He manages to get a few on before a loud pop sends some flaming twigs flying.

"And what was that?" the field producer asked.

"God knows," Michael said standing. "Let's just fucking eat."

Lisa poured water from a canteen into the iron pot as Michael pushed the hanging sticks back into the sand. The pot was quickly over the fire.

"Ok, Lisa, Becky, do your kitchen work," Michael ordered.

Suddenly a huge gust took the sparks flying and everyone turned their backs to the blowing sand.

"And hurry," he added.

"We're here!"

Everyone looked and saw Sugar Petal and Hassim coming out of the woods dragging long branches and a pile of long palm leaves.

"What's all that about?" Michael shouted.

"Fire roof for the rain!" Sugar Petal shouted.

Another gust of wind took another shower of sparks with it.

"It'll go up in smoke in the wind!"

"And it will go out in the rain!" Hassim shouted back.

"We can argue after the damn food!" Becky interrupted.

Sugar Petal looked at Hassim. "Wind wall. Stop the sand."

Hassim nodded as he dropped the leaves.

Sugar Petal dropped the sticks on top.

"Ichiro, Sam," Hassim said. "Let's get a wall up to block the wind."

"That will destroy the view!" Becky shouted.

"It's temporary! … you muppet…" Hassim added under his breath.

Another gust came.

"Get the sticks in the ground!" Michael ordered.


The rice was in the pot as the last palm was tied to the sticks.

Michael sat down.

"Man that makes a difference," he said.

"Rattles like a maraca though," Sam said as he sat.

"That's going to be horrible sleeping tonight," Becky complained. "Tear it down before we go to bed."

"If it rains, we're all going to be shoved in there, so stop complaining," Ichiro said.

"Hmph," she turned her nose up.

A thunder crack interrupted everyone.

"That's not good," Michael stood. He looked out at the last of the red horizon.

"No rain coming this way," he said. "Storm must be going around us."

"We should still make a roof," Sugar Petal said.

"Yeah, it might rain overnight," Sam said.

"As long as it doesn't go up in smoke, I'm fine with it," Ichiro said.

Michael sat back down.

Lisa looked in the pot. "Rice looks done."

"And I got the bowls!" Becky reached back into the shelter, then came over to the fire. "Let me scoop it!" She grabbed the spoon from Lisa's hand and began filling the stack of bowls. "I carved everyone's initials in them so pass them around."

Michael took them and began passing them around. "S for Sam… I for Ichiro… M for Me… H for Hassim…"

Sugar Petal looked expectantly as the bowls were passed around. But then Becky scooped the last of the rice into the last bowl.

"And this one is mine," she smiled looking directly at Sugar Petal.

"Ummm…" she said softly. "Where's my bowl?"

"Oh youuuuuur bowl?" Becky drew the word out menacingly. "I threw it in the ocean! No food for you."

"What?!" she yipped.

Becky pointed at her, "Do you even think you deserve food at all after what you pulled today?! You can go eat shit the next month for all I care!"

Suddenly Hassim began making a funny face then grabbed his throat. He turned and spit out the food, then kept spitting and spitting.

"My days, what the fuck is wrong with the rice?!"

Becky began laughing hysterically. "Speaking of eating shit, I smeared it then pissed in your bowl!"

"Fucking, bloody hell!" Hassim shouted as tossed the bowl away.

It embedded itself upside down in the sand a few yards from camp.

"Becky! Mine was on top of his, you little shit!" Michael stood and ran to the ocean to wash his hands.

"Someone grab a canteen!" Sam said.

"He's not putting his shitty mouth on our water!" Lisa shouted.

"Hold on Hassim, I got you. Pour water in my bowl is a sec," Sam said as he began cramming in the single handful of rice.

"I'll go clean up," Sugar Petal said softly.

She stood silently and left the chaos at the fire.

Her crew that was behind the scenes made their way to the spilt bowl. The cameraman put the camera on the ground and got ready for a closeup.

Sugar Petal knelt with her back to everyone. She picked up the bowl and saw the contaminated ball of rice had not fallen out and now laid in the sand.

She paused looking at it. Then she scooped it in her mouth, shit, sand and all.

Hassim washed his mouth out and spit into the sand. "Thank you, Sam."

Suddenly everyone stopped what they were doing and turned.

Sugar Petal was on her side coughing in the sand.

Even Becky stopped laughing. "Did she seriously try and eat that?!"

"Go…" Hassim said, still spitting.

"Give me the dish."

Sam looked up and saw Michael returned behind him. He handed him the bowl.

"Sugar Petal? Sugar Petal?" Michael knelt. "Oh Jesus you did try and eat that. Get that out of your mouth."

Sugar Petal turned her head.

"Don't act like a puppy with cat litter in his mouth. I will grab your face and pry it open."

Sugar Petal shook her head as she struggled to swallow.

"I said out!" Michael smacked her hard in the back of her head.

Sugar Petal opened her mouth in pain and in went Michael's fingers as he put her in a headlock and put his whole body weight into pressing her body into the sand.

"There!" Michael shouted as he threw something then beat his hands into the sand covering something up. He then stood and stomped in the same spot as Sugar Petal began to whine.

"What the hell were you thinking!" he screamed, flailing his arms. Then he bent down to scream in her ear. "Huh?! Huh?!"

She flinched and pulled away.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Michael screamed one last time in her ear before standing. "Wash your mouth out right now," he pointed at the water bowl.

She winced.

Michael bent down again. "I said now! NOW!" he somehow found a way to scream even louder. "DO IT NOW!"

Sugar Petal lunged at the bowl and quickly put it to her mouth.

"Now don't do anything like this again," Michael said standing. He stormed back to camp.

"We got a damn baby chewing on her feet as a teammate! I gotta wash my hands again," Michael said storming through camp on the way back to the water.

Back at the spot, her field producer had knelt down as the cameraman moved the lens close to her crying face.

"Sugar Petal, what were you thinking? Trying to eat that?"

"I'm sorry, I got greedy and got too much sand in my mouth…" she sobbed.

"The sand? Sugar Petal, you could get extremely sick from eating contaminated food like that."

Sugar Petal wiped her left eye with the back of her hand. "I wouldn't have gotten sick. I've never gotten sick before."

"Well, there's a first time for everything. Now rinse your mouth out and show us your teeth and tongue."


Meanwhile, with Vegeta...

The occasional rumble in the distance was now a loud constant roar through the trees as Vegeta tied a vine to the last clump of fan palms and pulled them up to the platform. He lashed the leaves to the roof and was almost finished when he saw the crew begin to pull out rain gear. Vegeta then climbed down and began leaning all his bamboo poles against the platform.

He grabbed the rolls of vines and tossed them up onto the platform before climbing up and pulling the poles in.

Vegeta had just finished securing the roof when he felt the rain start. He climbed off the A-frame and ducked inside. The wind was making the tops of the trees twist but the house was stable. He barely felt anything.

Vegeta smashed some bamboo poles into flattened strips and wove them together for some quick walls to stop the wind-blown drizzle. Once that wall was done, he had a perfectly dry house.

Vegeta looked over the side at the crew standing in ponchos with clear bags over the cameras.

"You guys alright?"

"Yes," Leticia shouted. "There will be no night crew tonight now that there are automatic cameras set up."

"As long as you're alright. Everything is dry up here now."

Vegeta continues cutting, flattening and weaving bamboo and completes two more walls before the rain stops.

The radio goes off.

*fuzz* Leticia, where are you? It's almost 7:30. *fuzz*

Leticia looks at her watch. "Shit." She grabbed her radio. "Sorry. We lost track of time. Vegeta has completed the walls of his hut and is now out of camera sight. Over."

*fuzz* We'll grab one of the spares. Just get over here so we can head out. *fuzz*

Leticia spun around. "Hurry up with packing, we're late!"

After they left, Vegeta got to work. He headed down to the stream. The rain had minimal effect on its water level. Vegeta found a large oval shaped rock about two feet long and several inches thick. He took a ball of energy and ground it into the rock. After about four minutes of grinding and washing, Vegeta had a perfect stone bowl.

He hurried back to his tree house and tied it up with vines. He climbed up and pulled it in to make a show for the cameras. Vegeta then gathered the scraps, tossed them in the bowl, and lit them with his ki. The little flame, barely more than a candle, lit the house surprisingly well and any minor sparks landed in the bowl. The smoke gathered in the roof, but some quick cuts in the walls at the roofline let the breeze carry some of the smoke out.

On cue, Vegeta heard an ATV. He climbed down and met the man as he drove up.

It was one of the men from last time.

"Shack's coming along nicely," he said. "Hey why don't I turn this on and show you how to secure it. Save us 15 minutes of ladders and stuff."

"Fair enough."

"It's your basic belt buckle strap," he said demonstrating. "Slip it out, wrap it around the tree or pole or whatever. Then under the bar, slip it through this and pull tight."

"I can do that," Vegeta nodded.

Then here you go," he handed Vegeta the camera and rode off.

Vegeta climbed back up carrying the camera by the strap. He put it in the roofline looking down at the platform. Then he cleaned up the cutting debris, blew out his little fire, and went to bed.


Meanwhile, later that night in Samundra…

The clouds were breaking, leaving speckled moonlight across the ocean waters.

Daisuke and Jamal had fallen asleep after eating dinner hours ago. Nick and Vickie were also asleep.

Casey piled logs on the fire in a way meant for it to burn through the night.

"The shelters have really held up well," Bob said, "Everything underneath is dry." He looked at Jessica, "The sides you made have really held up."

"What WE made," Jessica said looking up from her latest project, "I'm no miracle worker."

"So that's going to be the infamous yoga mat?" Jerry asked. "Do you really think that's a good idea? I mean, after Jamal fainted?"

"There's more to yoga than just silly poses," she said firmly.

"I didn't say anything about silly poses."

"I could feel you thinking about it."

"Just stop," Bob ordered. He then leaned forward. "I think we need to seriously think about voting Vickie out first." He put his hand up to stop Casey from protesting. "Even if she recovers from the water in her lungs, she's allergic to a possible food source. I don't want us fishing that far away until I get a good look. We don't know if it was purely swimming that distance or if it's truly too far to walk. Until then, it's the stream and whatever we can get from it."

"I agree," Casey said.

"Really?" Bob said surprised.

"I don't know why she got in with such a dangerous allergy. If she can't eat what's available. Then she's a drain on our other food."

"I'm in," Jerry said.

Jessica nodded, "I'll vote."

"And with Nick's outburst, that's a solid five votes. It's decided." Bob placed his hand on his knee to help himself stand. He grunted standing. "Let's head to bed."


Meanwhile, in Berapi…

Sugar Petal was shivering trying to sleep in the wet sand. She had not been allowed in the shelter and sat in the rain for over an hour.

Hassim tried to crawl out of the shelter, but for a second night, Michael was awake with the machete.

"What are you trying to do?" he demanded.

"I need to piss."

"Alright." Michael moved and Hassim crawled out. Michael stood at the entrance. "Piss over on that tree," he pointed with the machete, "then right back here."

"And if I want some privacy?"

Michael switched the machete from hand to hand, "This is The Last Survivor. No such thing as privacy. Now do your business and get back inside."

Hassim went over to the tree, then casually looked around trying not to get caught checking on Sugar Petal. Michael did not buy it, and looked around and spotted Sugar Petal shivering in the sand.

He smirked, glancing at Hassim, then walked over to Sugar Petal. He tossed the machete away into the sand and started peeing on her face. This woke her up.

Michael pointed at the ground. "Kneel. Now…" He grinned, "Cup-cake."

She looked up at him surprised, but instantly obeyed.

"Open your mouth."

She obeyed.

Then began to crawl forward and lifted her hand.

"No need for that."

Sugar Petal inched back then adjusted her posture, putting her hands back in her lap.

Michael began peeing in her mouth. "Swallow."

Sugar Petal swallowed the urine as her mouth filled. Then he finished. He leaned down face to face. "Good little cupcake." He walked over to the machete and saw Hassim glaring at him.

"What are you looking at?" Michael smirked.

"That's sexual assault."

"But not rape, remember? Nothing of what just happened is sexual by any means or against the rules… Or what Becky has done," he added after a dramatic pause.

Hassim formed his fists. "They used the words sexual assault in the verbal briefing. I'm going to tell everyone what you did in the morning."

"You mean the teammates who agreed to starve her to death? Or the staff that restrained her from saving the fire and did nothing about Becky? Besides, what if she denies it? Or worse, blames you?"

"And why the hell would she do that?" Hassim pointed at him.

Michael chuckled, "Did you not see what she just did completely unprompted in that little experiment? I was completely unarmed, and all I did was call her cupcake."

Hassim's eyes widened.

Michael walked next to him and put his left hand on Hassim's left shoulder. "Thanks for that little piece of info this morning by the way. She belongs to me now thanks to you." He leaned in, "I suggest you remember that for the next week."

He switched his grip to clinching his upper arm and tugging it behind him. "Let's get back to the shelter… Now."

Moonlight glistened on the glass eyes of the tiki masks.