Title: Johnny Survivor
Rating: PG
Summary: The twisted brainchild of a weirdo in desperate need of new ideas for writing material. Lucky story doesn't know what hit it. What happens when Johnny Depp in a good deal of his incarnations get stuck on an island to play... well... Survivor? And more important... when those incarnations' Angels spur me on to greatness (cough)? We're on the island, kiddies! Be ready to vote!
Author's Notes: For those of you out there who have no idea where I and my ideas are coming from, I can't say I know half the time. All I can do is namedrop Johnny's Angels and maybe you'll get a better scope on things. Doubt it, but maybe. If you're into Johnny Depp in general, it's a fine community. Call it a shameless plug. It's got a roster of the teams and info on who these people are among other things. Anyway, on with Chapter 2.
Chapter 2- Getting there is half the fun
---It is truly a miracle of cinematic proportions. 16 different manifestations of Johnny Depp alive and well sitting huddled aboard a private yacht. Everyone has been designated a team, though they've been firmly instructed not to interact with each other until show time. Bingo.
"All right, Survivors! You have made it through a rigorous acceptance process!"
Ichabod scoffed.
"You have suffered through tearful and traumatic goodbyes!"
Duke shuddered.
"You are about to embark on one of the most extraordinary experiences of your lives, gentlemen! You are going to find out first hand what it's like to survive on an island with minimal food, clean water and the constant fear of knowing that at any moment, your life can be in danger!"
Tobey gulped.
"Both groups have the same objects! Enough rice to last you until the merger if rationed correctly! A magnifying glass! A machete! A water proof container! 2 water jugs and an inflatable raft! On my mark, both teams will jump out of the boat and climb into their rafts. They will swim to shore and using the map stored in the waterproof container, you will follow it to your campsite! The winners will earn a chance to raid the loser's campsites. Time is of the element! Survivors! Are you ready? Go!"
Hahaga Tribe
---The sharp shrill whistle blasted through the calm Pacific air and the assembled 'Survivors' stared at each other blankly, wondering if they really wanted to go swimming. It was Captain Jack who shrugged and dove neatly into the water. Naturally, male testosterone dictates that no man shall be shown up as long as he is capable, so the contestants made their way into the water slowly but surely. Eventually, only Edward was left on the boat...
"C'mon, mate, jes dive on in!" Jack called up, shielding his eyes against the glare of the sun.
"I can't," Edward shook his head.
"Mate, we have t'get t'the island! Jump in!" Jack tried a last attempt to reason with the timid Johnny. Again, Edward wouldn't budge.
"Listen, are you a... er... what are you?" Sands blinked, trying to reason out a way to get in his favorite catch phrase. Edward clearly wasn't a Mexican and if he assumed American, he could rationalize that he didn't want to get on the wrong end of those scissors.
"Jump out of the boat and we shall catch you!" Bon-bon offered, batting his overlarge eyelashes.
"The raft!" Cesar cried, gesticulating at the lumpy package atop the floating collection of provisions. The Survivors already soaked through their comfortable clothes managed to wrestle the canary yellow raft under the boat.
"Jump, shearhead!" Duke called up, squinting against the sun reflected off the choppy seas.
"Scissors up!" Fred yelled as Edward was about to fall off without a care in the world. Edward had to quickly pinwheel his arms to regain his balance. If he popped the raft, he'd be even worse off than when he had started. So he turned around, and fell backwards into the rubber craft , causing the water to ripple from the impact. As soon as Edward was settled, the rest of the Hahaga tribe climbed into the raft and sought out the 2 oars that had been provided.
"Ready mates? I've got 'sperience in these matters. I'll be rowin' first. Any of ye can join me when ye'd like. We've got some catchin' up t'do," Jack smirked as he brandished an oar at the rest of the assembled crew. And with that parting shot, Jack began to paddle. Sands shrugged, seeing nobody else jump for the other oar, and took it up himself. They had a lot of ocean to cover very fast.
Inaga Tribe
---The Inaga Tribe jettisoned off the side of the yacht easy enough, if not for the slight trouble by one of the more tricksy teammates. Spencer immediately began to freak right out.
"I hate water! Oh, God, it burns!" he screamed, flailing like mad. Not that he didn't have a reasonable explanation, but it was more than a little nerve wracking for his more gentle-natured teammates.
"Get in the rat, Spencer, c'mon," Donne growled as he shoved the alien aboard. He suffered a fist to the eye for his troubles while Spencer lay gasping for breath as the bottom of the raft. Gilbert climbed in next, followed by Sam, Raphael, Tobey, Ichabod, Donnie and lastly axel, who felt the need to seek out some distant Pacific cousin of the halibut. It had been Tobey who had grasped Axel by the shirt collar and hauled him up.
"All right, guys. Everytime someone gets tired, they hand their oar to another teammate, okay?" Donnie announced, trying to bring order to their motley crew.
"Give me an oar," Gilbert said quietly, holding his hand out expectantly.
"Okay, Gilbert and I will take the first shift. Ready? One, two, three, row!" Donnie called. He began to dig the wooden paddle into the surf, both he and Gilbert getting the raft to gain speed. And so Inaga was off, leaving Hahaga in the metaphorical dust.
Hahaga
---The host's last words rankled with the second place tribe. The winning team gets to raid the loser's camp. And it wasn't looking good for Hahaga.
"I don't want that-"Duke paused, remembering FF's penchant for not swearing. "I don't want that oar."
"Duke, there's only so much rowing I can f-"
"Hey, watch it, swine! If I can't swear, you definitely can't," Duke growled at Sands who was impatiently trying to dump the oar off on him.
"Rules are made to be broken, chico," Sands didn't bite.
"Mates, I can't do all the bleedin rowin' by my onsies. One o' ye scaborous dogs better pick up that oar before I wring yer worthless neck." There was a collective glance of surprise mingled with fear for the sun-bake pirate captain. It was Bon-bon who had inadvertently broke the tension and found the perfect solution.
"I think there is something in your pocket," Bon-bon smiled lazily as (s)he brushed a collaoused hand against Mort's rear. The mild writer gasped in surprise and slapped at the other... man's?... hand.
"I-I don't swing that way," Mort shied away, confusion apparent on his pallid face.
"Mate, there is something in yer pocket!" Captain Jack pointed. "Be honest, are ye holdin' out on us?"
"What? No! All I've got in her is a stick of gum!" to prove his innocence, Mort reached behind him and dug around before giving a yank. It was an oar. Jack cocked an eyebrow and Mort had the decency to blush.
"I... ah... didn't know that was in there."
Sands rolled his eyes. "Listen, I've been on enough Cantina adventures to know what's what. You've got a magic pocket. I'd like very much for you to reach back in that and pull out 5-..." he glanced at Edward, "scratch that, 4 more oars, before I lose all the feeling in my arms, savvy?"
"I like yer choice of words, mate," Jack flashed a golden smile.
"I'll do it!" Bon-bon cried happily. There was an immediate flurry of head shaking and hand waving to dissuade the pretty-in-pink transvestite from his objective.
"I've got it, thanks," Mort nodded weakly and began to extract another oar. The first pocket paddle was padded to Abberline who began to keep tempo, if only for motivation. Duke was last to recive an oar out of sheer stubbornness.
The Hahaga Tribe, now under the man power of 7, soon overtook the Inaga Tribe with their primitive, two man rowing system. 5 minutes later, all of Hahaga dumped onto the beach with cheers of excitement. All that was left was finding their camp and with Inaga still out at sea, victory was certain. The host was air-lifted to Hahaga's site to greet the heroes on their own turf marked by the green Hahaga banner.
"Congratulations, Hahaga. You have earned the right to raid Inaga's camp in a 5 minutes spree. You may take whatever you want, but only what you can carry in one trip. You will do this in 1 day, to give the other tribe time to build there camp and have something to actually raid. I will be seeing you all again and until then, rest, enjoy the scenery. Congratulations. Go set yourselves up with some shelter, too. You'll be needing it."
Inaga
---"Well... we've got the option of not building shelter or unpacking," Gilbert mused whilst sitting on the edge of the raft. The team had dragged it with them to their new place of lodging: a circular clearing surrounded by trees. There was a clean, fresh water stream skirting the edge of the site, but if one wanted to wash themselves, they had to walk the 2 minutes to the ocean's edge. It wasn't a bad site, but Inaga didn't want to fave what would happen when Hahaga got a hold of it.
Spencer was still in a bad mood from his ordeal with the water. He found that he didn't have the strength to come up with a proper barb and instead settled for rolling his eyes. Humans were so dense. "Hide the stuff."
Ichabod's brows furrowed, "Hide the stuff?"
"Very observant, Sherlock," Spencer replied dryly. "Hide it so they can't find it."
"Well, guys, since we haven't got anything better to work with. Let's get to work," Donnie announced, his jaw set determinedly.
Spencer
---"We've been on this island for 30 minutes, and already I want to kill Ichabod. He's so... so... by the book! He has it out for me. Maybe it's the paranoia talking, but I doubt it. Anyone that scientific is usually out to get me. I'm keeping an eye on him. Heck... I'll probably make it 2 and let someone else worry about them cheeky natives."
Raphael
---"I never actually thought I'd have an issue with leaving. I thought I'd done alright by bother of us, but... I'm starting to have doubts. I think I'm actually getting homesick and... I would have liked a goodbye kiss. No, I know I can't drop out now, but maybe this month won't last too long and I'll be able to win something. Make amends and so forth. Spencer's going to give me a time of it though, he seems like the kind of person to want to get under your skin. I'll reserve judgment, but... I don't think I like him a whole lot."
Hahaga
---"We need a fire, don't we?" Mort thought aloud.
"Why don't I pull one out of your magic pocket?" Bon-bon asked innocently. Mort shot Bon-bon a glare and instead turned toward the rest of the tribe.
"Well?"
"I had matches, but they're pretty useless now," Sands shrugged. There was a low groan before Abberline had the first inspirational idea.
"Rub sticks together?"
"Aye! That should do it!" Jack cried.
"Well? What are we waiting for? It's getting cold and it might keep the bats at bay," Duke pointed at the sky. The next 5 minutes were useless for tribe spirits.
"Rub faster, faster, faster! Faster Abberline!"
"I can't... go... any faster," Fred's breaths were coming in short gasps. His already tired and abused arms were pumping quickly, trying to work the smoking stick a little faster.
"Oh my... stars," Sands grumbled with a sour look for Duke and his no vulgarity policy. "If you can't get this going, someone else better try. I need a cigarette."
"If your matches don't work, why would your cigarettes?" Cesar glances at the moody agent, no malice apparent in his question.
"I usually plan for the inevitable," Sands replied, pulling out a plastic, water-tight case and tapping it.
"So what you're saying is that swimming in your pants is inevitable... so you save your cigarettes, but not a means to light up." It was Mort's turn to interrogate.
"So I forgot to get a matchbook and used my reserve stash only to neglect to restock. It happens," he shrugged. Hahaga moaned in frustration and returned their attentions to Fred's fevered attempts to start a cook fire.
"A spark!" Jack cried, leaning in to coax the little ember higher. The spark wanted no part of the ordeal and died out again. It was about then that Fred sighed in frustration and simply curled up on his side in the still warm sand.
"I-... I can't go it anymore. I'm beat," he panted. Everybody felt their morale droop a little, despite their earlier victory.
"Well... we can steal fire from them tomorrow. What's a little fasting among friends, aye?" Jack asked. Sands winced; he wanted, no needed that cigarette. Mort wasn't too far behind on that front.
Edward, sensing the mood, began to prod the wood, hoping to turn over something of importance. His index scissor became firmly lodged in the log and he had to look around wildly for help. Cesar managed to unstuck the poor, timid Johnny before trying to help come up with some solutions for their cooking problem. As it was, it wouldn't be until tomorrow that they'd taste their first batch of rice.
Fred
---"Sands is... a live wire. I don't trust him as far as I can pick him up and throw him. He's too well prepared. He's like some kind of... Boy Scout from Hell. I'm watching him. He has cigarettes but no matches? Too suspicious. He'd better be careful these next couple of days."
Sands
---"I knew what I was up against when I signed up for this shindig, but I hadn't seen my lighter getting abducted by some stupid fish. I probably could have prevented the match incident, but be serious. Even CIA agents don't always think straight. I think I tweaked quite a few of my teammates today which really doesn't bother me. This is trivial. I'll redeem myself where it counts, mark my words."
Jack
---"Where's the rum!?"
Inaga
---"It's only a matter of time before they descend on us like vultures," Tobey murmured. He spared a quick look for the rapidly setting sun and gave a sigh.
"I wonder what time it is back home," Raphael sounded as though he were becoming more homesick by the hour. It simply wasn't his nature to blow off his family like that.
"The clock's probably still half an hour fast," Ichabod rolled his eyes.
"No, they fixed that," Same spoke quickly before Spencer had a chance to offer a scathing rebuttal. Their camp was as bare as it had been when they'd first washed ahore with the exception of a glowing fire. It was Raphael's skill that had caused the small area to light up with a bright orange light. So their makeshift utensils and bowls were scrubbed with sands in the stream and buried with their rice under a rock.
"I suggest we turn in early. It's going to be a long day tomorrow," Donnie yawned. The idea of sleeping before the sun went down appalled him, but he'd have to sacrifice his off kilter circadian rhythm to get the most out of himself this next month. He wanted to be on top of whatever came down on him.
"I'll keep first watch to prevent danger," Raphael announced and shifted his log to get a better view of the still darkening landscape. A moai's beatific eyes also kept watch over Inaga.
Hahaga- Night
---"It's too freakin' cold!" Duke growled, already pining for the neon Vegas skyline and warm desert winds. Pacific or not, Rapa Nui lost heat at night. Heat Duke, in his shorts and Acapulco shirt, couldn't cope without.
Hahaga as a whole wasn't fairing well. Captain Jack Sparrow was mourning the lack of alcohol based drinking products and Sands found himself twitching and seeking out invisible, nicotine enemies. Mort seemed to be having conversations with himself despite Bon-bon's attempts at communication. Fred and Cesar had sectioned themselves off to discuss further plans as Edward sat away from the madness all alone. Were the Hahaga survivors bent on normalcy, they probably would have felt bad for poor Edward. As it was, they were privately waging their own battle for sanity.
"It's too freakin' cold!" Duke felt the need to reiterate this as he compulsively clutched at his slowly freezing arms.
"It looks as though we may need to conserve our energy and heat," Bon-bon suggested. There was a slow moment as the 7 people turned to look at him. Her.
"What 'sactly are ye suggestin', mate?" Jack asked.
"We must huddle together for warmth!"
Several mouths gaped to protest, but nothing came out. They were positively shell-shocked. Nobody could come up with an argument for or against the proposition.
"It's settled! I call Morton!" Bon-bon whooped with glee. He grabbed Mort around the middle and tackled him to the ground. Mort had no time to react and wound up under the enthusiastic drag queen.
"Help me," he mouthed. Duke, uncaring of the means to get his blessed heat, curled up on the other side of Bon-bon, wrapping his arms around his/her waist. Jack soon followed not to be left out and eventually, the whole tribe was wrapped around each other (with Edward on the end, of course). While it was unorthodox, it was very effective. Duke found himself nodding off between the pirate captain and transvestite. It was sands who laid down the law between yawns.
"This... n-n...ever leaaaaaaaaaaaaves camp. Can you... dig it?"
There was a general murmur of assent before they fell asleep hungry and tired, but warm.
Hahaga- Morning
---Sands heard the creature long before he saw it. The grass was rustling loudly and he thought he could pick up snatches of human speech. His first thought wasn't that he might be killed. It was that they'd catch him spooning an inspector. He scrambled up, grateful his clothes were still on, and reached for a gun that was no longer there. He'd forgotten that they'd been confiscated and cursed every person working for Survivor in his mind. So he grabbed a stick and advanced on the source of the stumbling.
"Oh, ouch! Gabe, you could have warned me about that!"
Sands eyebrows drew together. That shout was awfully familiar.
"I'm sorry, DB, the satellite connection is about 2 seconds slower than you sound. Ah, I see the tricky log now. I don't believe you stepped over it, did you? You may have to go a bit slower so I can keep track of you better."
"There's no time, I've gotta find Raphael!"
"DB?" Sands asked tentatively. The figure he'd come up behind whipped around and had a gun trained on him. "Uh, excuse me, but I believe you know me. And if you don't, I'll be sorely disappointed with you."
"SJ? How'd you find me? And where am I, for that matter?"
"You're outside Hahaga camp, why'd you ask? Why'd you come all the way here, anyway? It can't have been cheap."
"Maravilla sent it via Western Union for plot progression. Amazing how she got that much money so fast but... I guess I shouldn't think too hard on that."
"No, I really don't think that'd be a smart move," Sands agreed.
"This wouldn't be Raphael's team, wouldn't it?"
"Nope, sorry, sugarbutt. Other tribe."
"Gabe, what happened?"
The computer somehow managed to sound sheepish, "Hahaga you say? Hahaga's green?"
Sands displayed the green Survivor buff tied around his upper arm.
"So... that would make Inaga orange... wouldn't it?"
DB sighed, before reaching for Sands. "Well, I guess I'll go back to trekking the island, seeing the sights, and making Raphael repent and all. Try not to shoot anybody-..."
"Can't," Sands' jaw twitched.
"I'd offer you a candyette if I thought it'd help. It sounds like you need one-..."
"Or two or three. I'll take a whole pack if you can spare it," he gave a lopsided smile to hide his tension.
"If it'll spare Cesar and Bon-bon from some diabolical plot, I'd be more than happy to spare them. Before you get huffy, they're still my charges and I've gotta' take care of them for RGJ and another sidekick. No hard feelings?" DB asked while holding the candyettes where she thought was out of reach. Sands rolled his eyes and plucked the pack out of her hand as he planted a kiss on her cheek.
"None taken. Now, vamos before you're discovered. I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to be here, no matter how much chaos I'd like to create."
"I knew there was a reason I liked you, SJ," DB grinned. Before a second had passed, Gabe was back and ready to guide the OPS Angel back through the wilderness with the aid of a faster satellite.
Donnie
---"I'm not looking forward to this. Not at all. It's almost a little degrading, not being able to start camp because you know you're going to be raided. Granted, it's better than getting taken by surprise but it still doesn't make me feel better. Maybe I'm pessimistic? I hope not.
Inaga
--- The green Hahaga tribe trooped over the last ridge and into Donnie's line of sight. He glanced back at his half-asleep orange tribe and struggled to keep an emotionless countenance. A heartening fact was the slightly haggard look of the other 8 survivors and the nervous tics they'd developed seemingly overnight.
"Alright, Hahaga! You've got 5 minutes, on my mark. Go!" the host called from atop his position over-looking the camp. There were hidden reserves of strength that made the tribe leap forward like feral lions: every last one of them for the fire.
"5 torches will last. C'mon, c'mon, hurry, we've got 4 minutes," Sands snapped.
"Will everybody please stop telling me to hurry?" Fred grumbled as he rubbed a blister on his palm.
"There's nothing here!"
"What?"
"There's nothing here!"
"Can't be!"
Hahaga was stumped. There was nothing worth taking in sight. It looked like the other team hadn't even gotten the energy to do anything. They'd simply admitted defeat and to spite the other tribe, decided to not establish themselves. But why were some of them trying patiently to look away and avoid eye contact? Where were the provisions they landed with?
"Time! Hahaga! You will return to your camp and deposit what you found. Doesn't look like much, does it? You're going to have to make do. At least you've got fire, right? Head on back guys, we'll see you again before too long."
Abberline
---"Something really wasn't right about that raid today. They should have had something set up by them. It doesn't make any sense. Probably just as well we only had 5 minutes or I would have torn the place apart to figure out what was wrong with it. I have a sneaking suspicion they hid their possessions, but no proof. It's over. I can't say I'm proud, but it's done.
Spencer
---"Told you it'd work, Ichy."
Hahaga
---The tribe made it back to their camp with only 2 torches losing their precious flames. Before too long, there was a roaring fire and happy cheers all around.
"I love bonfires, drinks all around!" Jack cried.
The team cooked up a vat of rice and celebrated as best they could with their measley provisions. Since they'd lost a meal already, it was perhaps more plentiful than it normally would have been. At any rate, spirits were high among the Hahaga troop. It was when Cesar left to walk off a feeling of lethargy that the team cleaned up and set to work on a shelter of their own. They didn't want to have a repeat of last night, no matter how many rabid fangirls believed in it. The thatched roof was up and mud was being added to keep out the rain when Cesar returned.
"We've got Moai-mail," he announced, holding up a little envelope.
"Moai-mail?" Mort asked, not liking the implications.
"No trees. Can't have tree-mail without trees. They hit rock bottom and went with the Moai theme instead," Sands rolled his eyes, starting on the 5th candyette of the day.
"What does it say?" Edward decided to add to the conversation for the first time that day. Truth be told, his team mates scared them more than a little.
"It looks like the first of many immunity challenges."
"Give it here," Duke gestured for the piece of leather. Cesar passed it and Duke began to read: You've been here for a total of 2 days/ And it's hoped you've got your own blaze/ For fire is life/ More essential than your knife/ You'll need it to Survive these next few days.
"Sounds like a fire challenge," Mort mused.
"Think we can prepare?" Fred asked.
"I doubt it. No knives. Fire. Can probably practice running with fire if you wanted," Sands shrugged, ever the nonchalant figure.
"It's tomorrow. I think we may want to keep this 'Early to bed, early to rise,' schtick," Mort nodded. Bon-bon huffed. Mort twitched.
"No guarantees," Duke refused to accept these early nights tamely. He had managed to convince himself that he'd go by hypothermia and he refused to fall asleep.
"Th'mud's dry, mate. No need to worry about moisture or lack of heat in there," Jack shook his head proudly, having aided in its construction. Fred had directed, unable to do much more than hold things in place, and Edward had assisted in the cutting of various items.
"Then let's turn in now. We don't really know what to expect. We've got to stay on top of it," Cesar said quietly. Assorted grumbles later found Hahaga spread out in separate areas of their shelter wearing considerably more than they had last night.
Inaga- Morning
--- "All right guys, move out," Donnie pointed to a remote area on the horizon where the challenge was going to be held. Inaga had eaten their morning rice and were currently getting ready to hike over hilly terrain.
"We're ready back here," Gilbert waved on behalf of Ichabod, Raphael, and Sam. Axel, Tobey, Spencer and Donnie were up front to set the pace. It was an uneventful nature walk to the clearing. It was somewhat intimidating, looking upon a sort of obstacle course that was half on land and half in the water. Hahaga had just arrived, looking considerably better than yesterday.
"All right tribes, I take it you got your mail. Here's the deal. You've all got fire by now. Fire, as it said in your letters, is life. You need it to survive. That's why this challenge is so symbolic. Your tribes will, in groups of 2, race this torch through the obstacle course. If, at any time, it should go out, you must return to the beginning. The first 2 pairs will run over logs while avoiding buckets of water and run it to the next teams groups. The second group will scramble up this cargo netting and slide down the rope and run it to the beach. The third group will swim it to the floating platform where the last 2 pairs are who will swim it back and run it up to the towers where wood is already stacked. The first team whose fire burns through the rope and raises their flag wins immunity! Survivors, get to your marks!"
Minutes passed until each Johnny was stationed at the intervals along the course. Edward and Bon-bon representing Hahaga, Sam and Ichabod for Inaga first, Fred and Cesar, Spencer and Gilbert second, Mort and Duke, Axel and Tobey third, and Jack and Sands, Raphael and Donnie running the last leg.
"Survivors, are you ready? Go!"
It was Edward and Sam who ran the torches while Bon-bon and Ichabod tried their hardest to prevent the fire from sputtering. Bon-bon had produced some sort of cloth from who knows where (though it was guaranteed not to be pleasant) and held it above the flame while Ichabod simply tried to huddle over it as best he could. It took several tries for both teams before Inaga made it past through intense cooperation.
"Forget the handkerchief, run you two!" Fred called impatiently as he watched Spencer climb agilely up the rope with little thought to the torch in his left hand. Bon-bon, finally exasperated with the buckets of water ruining her/his hair, he took hold of the torch and dashed through, not caring if Edward caught up. Inaga was now at the top of the structure and trying to figure out a way down.
"I drop down first and you throw it to me," Spencer argued.
"No, it'll burn you!" Gilbert snorted.
"I'm not going to catch it, I'm going to pick it up off the ground."
"That's not going to work, it'll go out."
"No it won't, haven't you seen Indiana Jones?"
"That's a movie!"
Fred overheard this exchange and he topped the net and sprawled at the top, catching his breath slightly. He then took the torch from Cesar and tossed it to the sand below. Sure enough, it sputtered angrily, but didn't go out. With a whoop, Abberline repelled down the wall and Cesar close behind. Spencer rolled his eyes and seized the torch out of Gilbert's hand to let it fall over the side before starting over himself.
The teams were neck and neck to the groups of green Mort and Duke and orange Axel and Tobey. Hahage was slowed when Mort had trouble scrambling onto the platform (having forgotten to remove the magic pocket), which Jack and Sands had to make up with neat dives into the water and returning for the torch they'd left resting on the edge of the buoyed surface.
Jack was swimming with the torch in his teeth like a sword as Donnie and Raphael traded off occasionally once swimming with one arm became too much. Sands and Jack were without this problem and had only to worry about getting to shore first. They were pulling away from Inaga. Slogging up the shore. Sands wearily climbed the tower and all but flopped over the top. Touching the dangerously low fire to the wood, he was forced to lean backward to prevent water dripping onto the seasoned wood. They'd worked too hard to have him screw up now. Raphael was beginning to climb the tower as well. Sands blew lightly on the now furiously smoking wood, coaxing it brighter and hotter. Flames licked at the string. Blackened it. Ate away at it. The string snapped and a green flag snapped in the brisk ocean breeze.
"Hahaga wins immunity!"
A/N: Audience participation begins... now. You betcha. I don't pick who gets voted off. You do. I couldn't do that to a Johnny. Besides, Bon-bon would probably win because (s)he's too fun to write. So get to it, chop chop!
