Title: Johnny Survivor
Rating: Borderline PG/ PG-13. You'll see.
Summary: (The first 3 chapter summaries give you the gist.) There's going to be some more unexpected insanity this chapter around and if you haven't gotten around to at least browsing JA, you're going to have a bit of a time with this chapter. Lots more angels to meet, one less Johnny on the island. I also fear we're crossing into the realm of romance...
Disclaimer: I own... um... the AIM that helped write part of this chapter.
Author's Notes: Special super thanks to DB and Psnoo for staying up late for creativity's sake. And for all of you still reading this fic. And for those of you poor sots who had to sit and wait for the writer's strike to end before this update. For the non-JAer's, I'll try to explain a bit without taking away from the story, but I'd still take it at face value. We're a strange bunch. And the audience participation was... abundant.
Revenge of Sh-Psnoo
Background into Events of this Chapter
--- Ever the troublemakers (though they often pretend otherwise), SS and AJB decided they needed to have some fun. Fun that included theft. Of course, it couldn't be an unimportant object nobody would miss, or even an object that could be easily replaced. It was a couch. The couch that had been in residence at Mort and Psnoo's cabin for as long as anyone could remember. Not twelve hours later, the majority of JA was in a panic. Influential writers were rounded up and told to strike, Johnnies became abducted and mayhem ensued. Thus begins our sad, sad tale...
Hahaga- Tribal Council
--- It was Hahaga's second Tribal Council of the game. They couldn't complain but... yes they could.
Bon-bon was still upset with Mort and Shooter was still apprehensive about Bon-bon's state of mind. Sands' cigarette supply was dwindling rapidly as was Duke's. Captain Jack was succumbing to severe sobriety, Edward, to fear, and Fred, to paranoia.
"It's nobody's fault we lost. Nobody's at all. Nope, definitely not mine," Fred would mutter under his breath. Hahaga would diligently ignore these statements for as long as it would take for them to reach the clearing. Then his Miranda rights would go right out the window.
"Hahaga, welcome to the council. You've done this once before so I don't believe a recap is in order. Tell me though... what went wrong with that last challenge? Anything in particular or...? Duke?"
"Well ah... I'm no expert on primitive weapons and ah... it... there were all sorts of factors. Wind velocity, sunlight, distance, you understand."
"Why couldn't you practice with the bow and arrows provided?"
"There were arrows?" Shooter asked blankly.
"There should have been, in the quiver beneath the mail maoi."
"There was a quiver...?" Fred asked weakly. Oh boy.
Fred
---"I guess it was my fault. I... I don't know what to say. I hadn't been looking for arrows. If they'd been grapes I would have been all over them, you can bet I would. But arrows? How archaic can you get?"
Hahaga- Tribal Council
--- "-... so we can deduce that you never got to practice, right? Well, it's understandable. You didn't do at all bad for a lack of prior experience. However, it simply wasn't good enough, and I'm sorry about that. I would like to discuss a new feature for Tribal Council though if you'll lend your ears this way. Recently, the establishment's decided that they'd like to try something new for this portion of the show. Something about boosting audience participation and ratings. Anyway, the viewers at home get to decide the fate of one lucky Survivor. The chosen Survivor gets to leave tonight a happy man having been immune to tonight's vote. You heard right, the audience chooses the Survivor they'd like to see win immunity for the night. This go round... the viewers have spoken. Bon-bon wins immunity tonight."
Bon-bon looked rather speechless. The audience... liked her? When did this happen? Not that she'd given them (much) reason to dislike her, but she hadn't really thought of the audience as an entity. They'd never really existed before now. Bon-bon managed to nod and smile faintly.
"With that in mind, you may as well vote first. You may vote for anyone, however, nobody may vote you off, understand? Bon-bon... do the honors?"
"Well... all right..."
Bon-bon rose from her uncomfortable seat stiffly and walked to the voting area. This was far too surreal but she'd take it in stride as with everything else.
Bon-bon
--- "I should vote Morty-bear out for scaring me like that. But I won't, I love him far too much. So... I suppose I shall choose my second choice. You need to lighten up. You look as though you're smuggling something far too large for you. Start small. Don't sweat the large stuff. It makes you smell and therefore unappealing. You're just gotta' learn to appreciate everyone's capabilities. And... that's why I'm voting for you."
Sands
--- "Shooter... I don't like you, let's just face facts here. In fact... I think I'd vote you off if I didn't think it'd be unfair to Mort. However, there are bigger issues at hand right now. You lucked out."
Fred
--- "This game's just lost its luster. I miss Iggy. Well... I guess for old time's sake, buddy... it's going to be you."
Hahaga- Tribal Council
--- Edward returned with an ink stained index scissor and sat down again. It was time to find out. Who'd get the chop this time?
"I'll go tally the votes," the host announced quietly and shuffled off to get the pot. Hahaga could relate and waited patiently for the return. Or perhaps it wasn't patiently so much as it was slightly fearfully.
"All right you guys, you know the drill. Once the votes are read, the decision is final and the person will be asked to leave Tribal Council immediately. Good luck to all of you."
There were several sideways glances exchanged among the ranks.
"First vote is... Fred."
If it was possible Fred slumped even lower in his seat.
"Second vote. Fred."
His eyes shut tight.
"Third. Fred."
He stopped breathing.
"Fourth. Edward."
Edward didn't look at all hurt, just slightly confused. Fred's breath was leaking out in a hiss.
"The next person voted off Survivor: Rapa Nui. Fred Abberline."
Fred sighed as the last necessary vote was turned for all to see. Of course all the rational people would be kicked out of this tribe first. It wasn't good to be terribly sane in a scene like this. They'd gang up on you. Even if it was kind of your fault.
The host gestured slightly. "Bring me your torch."
Fred took a stance in front of the host and proffered his staff for snuffing.
"The tribe has spoken."
The flame went out, and Hahaga was down another man.
Inaga- Early morning
--- Several members of Inaga were up early. In fact, they were to be witnesses to a perfectly strange (though probably not so much anymore) scene. DB and Raphael broke through the foliage and stumbled into camp. Donnie swallowed his mouthful of rice before he choked while Axel and Spencer watched quietly. Raphael seemed less than pleased.
"But DB, why?"
"Because I'm Primera's 'kick. And that's Psnoo to you. Besides, I happen to appreciate a bit of mischief. And consider who your Angel is before you berate me," DB smirked.
"But I was happy at home! I want to go back to the teepee! What if SS becomes sucked in by... James' fandom again?"
"I know that was just a set up, Raphael."
"Not entirely," he muttered.
"I think she's tied up with the couch at the moment, I wouldn't worry too much."
Raphael sighed. It seemed as though he was going stay on the island for awhile, for good or ill. DB noticed that Raphael had been stopped for a minute and decided to test the waters, so to speak.
"Cuidado... piso... oh carp... none of you are Unangeled anymore. Spencer! Ichy! Someone throw my a bone here!"
"Mojado?" Spencer drawled.
"Ah, Spence, thanks. You're going to have a visitor for awhile. You all remember Raphael, don't you?"
"I don't want to, DB!"
"Don't make me use this," DB nudged a gun against Raphael's thigh.
"That's a water gun, isn't it?"
"Don't tell me Arenas switched them again..." DB ran a hand over the supposed gun. Sure enough, there was the water intake hole. After a bit of cursing the tricksy Agente, DB sighed dramatically. "Yes. I'll squirt you and make you wet. Now will you cooperate?"
"Why hasn't SS come for me yet...?" Raphael whispered. DB, being of spectacular hearing, took pity on the boy. Slightly.
"Don't you want to hang at the camp for a bit? Do Psnoo a favor and convince SS to return the couch?"
"I don't know why it's such a big deal. It's a couch," Raphael snorted.
"Have you ever been attached to something so much that you're prepared to launch a paintball and screwdriver attack on your friends if they took it from you?"
"I'm not sure I can make that claim."
"Then take it on faith. It's not just a couch. It's Psnoo'scouch and it had to be returned before anymore havoc can be wreaked for one week."
Raphael sighed. Seeing no other opening but the one ahead of him, he went to go sit beside Axel and Donnie at the fire. There were no malicious comments or wary glances. Just the calm, tanned faces of his former comrades. A couple even managed to smile.
"Raphael, you're visiting," Axel grinned. "We'd have a place for you if we'd known, but at least it won't be terribly uncomfortable."
"No, it's... it's okay. I don't plan on staying... long..." Raphael was slapped on the back by Donnie. On the whole, this Inaga was looking considerably more cheerful (though entirely too small by Raphael's reckoning) since he'd last seen it. Perhaps Raphael could admit a private loss for having thrown the game, but it still didn't take away from the fact that he missed SS. Not even bonding could really make him forget his adoration. Or that pesky J. M. Barrie.
DB's grip tightened on Raphael's shoulder as she stood behind him. "You hear something?"
"That's not exactly a fair question, DB, you know you've got the best hearing around," Spencer pointed out. It was when Donnie's, Axel's and Raphael's heads also came up that they realized something could very well be wrong.
"It's getting closer," Axel murmured.
"And it sounds familiar. C'mon Raphael, you may just get your wish after all..."
"What do you mean, DB?" Donnie asked.
"I've been hanging around a certain Angel in Waiting long enough to recognize Wonka-brand magic when I hear it. Maybe we can come to an... understanding..."
That didn't sound at all good in Raphael's book. Not one bit. But he didn't get a choice in the matter as DB hoisted him up by the elbow and urged him forward with a poke from the water gun.
The two figures took their time navigating Easter Island's wilderness. They stopped above the ridge that overlooked Inaga's camp, watching as Donnie finished up his breakfast and Axel and Spencer talked about something.
"Like what you see?" DB asked her companion.
"Not really. They look...hungry." He cleared his throat. "Hey, you know, you guys might be wrong about this whole couch thing."
"How so?"
"Well, maybe she's doing something good to it. You know... renovating it."
DB raised an eyebrow. "She knows good and well that Mort likes the couch the way it is. Besides, whoever revamped the cabin recently already did some couch restuffing. Why would SS do it again?"
The sound that had called the duo up to the ridge was no closer than ever, attracting their attention quite effectively.
DB pulled her water pistol on Raphael and said, "Don't move a muscle. This may not be real, but they might not know that."
Raphael, confused, glanced up to see a strange, octagonal capsule flying high overhead. He grinned. "The Wonkavator. Looks like AJB and my angel got out of your little trap."
DB poked Raphael between the ribs with the muzzle of the gun.
It was Raph's turn to raise an eyebrow. "I'm not afraid of water."
"Perhaps not, but I'm a good shot. Remember, I used to be Sands' angel, sugarbutt. Just keep quiet and under cover and everything will be fine."
"You know, for being angels... you guys sure do fight a lot."
"All in good fun, my dear Johnny. All in good fun."
They hunkered down as the Wonkavator zoomed over the island. It was about this time that DB's communicator began beeping urgently.
"This had better be good news, Gabe."
"I should think it is. Though SS and AJB have located you, you may consider letting Raphael go and returning home. The couch has been recovered and the writer's strike is over."
"You're kidding," DB and Raphael replied.
"I do not kid. That's them now, I'd assume," Gabe answered in response to the low drone of the Wonkavator hovering directly overhead. DB tilted her head so as to better hear the Wonkavator trying to hide her disappointment. She wasn't eager about giving Raphael up, no matter how much he probably feared her at the moment. He was awfully fine to be around and she could assume he wasn't an eyesore either. Ah well... the Wonkavator was coming and there wasn't much she could do about it. Maybe a chat with the one who found the couch would be in order when she got back.
Inaga- Morning
--- Spencer watched as the second UFO of the week flew in over the island, though thankfully not over Inaga. That would have been a little too weird. The golden box with the glass windows lifted up again and floated away. Spencer swore that he could see people inside, but he couldn't be sure. He didn't much want to find out, either.
"Think DB and Raphael are coming back?" Ichabod asked.
"I doubt it," Donnie replied, still following the lazy flight of the gold and glass box. "I think that was their ride."
"Too bad Raphael couldn't stay. But... now what?"
"A relaxing day. We definitely need it," Spencer murmured. That was a suggesting Inaga could agree with and no impending challenge was going to change that.
Angel Headquarters- Night
---Time and obligations had prevented recent massive chat dates, but tonight proved to be a lucky one. There were no less than 8 Angels present and accounted for. And each was just a little more insane than the last.
"I HAVE MY COUCH!!!" Psnoo beamed triumphantly. She had recently returned to her normal self, dropping the pseudonym "Sh-Psnoo."
"COUCH!!!" agreed DB.
"The couch is back!?" CC cried.
"GOT COUCH!!!" DB grinned.
"I do, right Arenas?" Psnoo turned.
"You've gotta claim it but otherwise, yes!" Arenas nodded.
"Okay," Psnoo replied.
"CLAIM COUCH!!!" DB yelled.
Iggy laughed. The antics of her abuela and mentor were something she hadn't seen in awhile.
"Where!!!!" Psnoo asked. The location of the couch was more than likely necessary in order to claim it. And the Angels who knew weren't helping.
"There!" Iggy pointed.
"WHERE THERE?" Psnoo was growing impatient.
"There there," Iggy replied. Deciding to elaborate, she gestured. "By the thing."
CC never needed a reason to celebrate. "Long live the couch!!!" She raised her glass in a toast.
"Arenas should do the honors," DB pointed out.
"Yes. Psnoo heart Arenas," Psnoo nodded.
Arenas blushed, "Me? Well ah... viva la sofa!"
This was the main topic of conversation for the early part of the evening, though as with most conversations, it became slightly off kilter. Among these tangents included which color people were, corn products, megalomania, the eradication of smart alecks and the Aflak duck. The latter was what set up this next chain of events.
"AFLAK!" yelled Psnoo.
"Psnoo...you okay?" DB turned towards her mentor and former sidekick. "You're quacking up."
"Hmm?" Psnoo asked. DB just laughed.
"What?" Psnoo asked, genuinely confused.
"She's gone ducky, DB," FF replied, helping the cause.
"I have no idea what you guys are talking about," Psnoo huffed.
"Gah! Now she's quoting Bon-Bon. This can't be good," DB shook her head. This elicited an instantaneous response from Psnoo.
"Bon-bon!!!" she glared. DB snickered, glad to hear the reaction. Arenas' mind had been wandering though, and found she'd missed something vital. Something that probably had to do with her story.
"Whoa, wait, what!?" she cried, somewhat annoyed. Psnoo wasn't going to give an answer. She grabbed up her screwdriver and raced for chat room door. DB, while it had all been fun and games for awhile, now it was getting serious.
"Gah! Somebody stop her!"
"I missed something, didn't I?" Arenas sighed.
DB backtracked, hoping to get to the bottom of the issue. "Well, she "AFLAK"ed and then she quoted Bon-Bon."
"And now Bon-Bon's in grave danger..." Arenas guessed.
"I think she's losing it," DB admitted. Iggy laughed. DB didn't share this amusement and promptly duct taped Psnoo to a chair.
"Noooooo!" Psnoo cried, squirming like mad.
"That oughtta do it," DB clapped her hands. "Bon Bon's my responsibility after all."
Psnoo felt the need to explain her actions. "MY MORTYBEAR!!! MINE!!!"
"Yes, dear. Yes, we know!" DB raised her hands nonthreateningly.
"Ahh... now I follow," Arenas nodded.
"Bon-Bon needs to learn to keep her hands to herself," Iggy stated.
"She/He does," FF agreed.
"I'm sure Arenas won't let anything happen to him." DB was still talking to Psnoo. A calm Psnoo was no Sh-Psnoo.
"KEEP YOUR SHMAN HANDS OFF HIM!!! SHOOT HER!!!" Psnoo screamed. DB couldn't hide it anymore and laughed.
"Shman?" FF asked.
"SHOOT HER!!!" Psnoo yelled in answer. It was Iggy's turn to giggle.
"Shemale," DB offered.
"Shooter doesn't want to shoot her," Arenas pointed out.
"He cant shoot her... that would be one less for Hahaga," Iggy shook her head. Hahaga had to win. That was her team!
"GRRRR... SHOOT HER!!!" Psnoo wasn't buying.
"And mort won't shoot her... he's too nice," Arenas continued thoughtfully. Iggy had been thinking along the same lines.
"Mort's too nice."
This didn't seem to deter Psnoo a bit. "I'LL SHOOT HER!!!"
"Ha, you stole my words Arenas," Iggy grinned, unconcerned with the last outburst.
"Arenas, do something! Assure her!" DB was still worried for Bon-bon.
"Carp, I love all of you, but you people are distracting! I'm off to write fanfic for awhile," FF shook her head and got up. Whether it was the distraction factor or otherwise couldn't honestly be said. While FF was causing a small distraction, Psnoo was defying her duct tape bonds and reaching for her magic back pocket. The interdementional one.
"No!" DB cried. Iggy tackled her loving mentor in the hopes of preventing her escape to Rapa Nui. After all, abuelas top mentors any day. Tricksy Psnoo wouldn't stand for it and used her next tool. She closed eyes and imagined herself on Easter Island.
"GAH!" DB yelled.
Arenas smacked her forehead, not liking where this was going.
"Holy carp," DB moaned. "Cut to the chase, then..." Without further ado, DB too imagined herself to Easter Island to prevent an atrocity. Psnoo was already there and searching out the object of her antipathy.
"Bon-bon..." Psnoo called. "Boooooon-boooooooon... Mortybear... Mortybear... Ah's lookin' for you... Mortybear, let's go swimming... We'll bring Bon Bon..." Had anybody close enough to witness been able to see her, they would have noticed a positively evil and devilish smile on her face. But her soft inquiries didn't fall on deaf ears.
Hahaga- Afternoon
Mort had been sleeping soundly. Had been. Then something began to tug at the back of his mind. Something he didn't want to deal with this early in the afternoon. He groaned. "Go'way... wanna sleep."
Psnoo, being of sound hearing managed to locate the man of her dreams. "MORT!!!"
"Bon Bon! Where are ya, girl?" DB was on a slightly different mission. Save the Unangeled, worry about Sh-Psnoo later. It was just as well, Psnoo was content with her Mortybear for the moment and therefore out of trouble. Mort still hadn't woken up, so Psnoo took the initiative and glomped him soundly.
DB managed to find Hahaga, but in a slightly different manner. She crash landed on one of the tribesmen. Sands managed to muffle his swear enough to render him unintelligible. Before long, he could speak without too much pain in his voice.
"What where what in the world?"
"Not now, darlin'!" DB cried, patting him on the shoulder before scrambling up again.
Mort sensed the urgency of the shouts, but was still reluctant to wake up. He was having the nicest dream of Psnoo. So he rolled over and tried to sleep some more. "Don't make me get... get... get... the..." he yawned. "...screwdriver."
Psnoo wouldn't give up that easily. She began to rain light kisses down on her Mortybear. Let him sleep through that. Just in case, she called his name for good measure.
DB was thinking fast. Her trusty identification call to the rescue: "CUIDADO PISO..."
"MOJADO!" Bon-bon cried happily. DB sighed with relief and stumbled towards Bon-bon to make sure everything was alright. Psnoo was still trying to persuade Mort that it was okay to wake up sometimes.
"Morty, it's me!!!" she cried between kisses. No Johnny can resist a persistent Angel.
Mort yawned again. "Hm...? Psnoo?"
Psnoo was elated. "MORTYBEAR!!!" She then proceeded to squee. Really loudly. Bon-bon twitched.
"What is going on here?"
DB shook her head, "Um...nothing...nothing you need worry about, BB."
"Mortybear..." Psnoo sighed happily.
"What're'you doin here?" Mort slurred.
"You'll never believe what happened," Psnoo whispered. "SS stole our couch!"
"SS? She wouldn't," Mort cocked his head.
DB leaned in close to Bon-bon for extra emphasis. "You...um....you may want to stay away from Shooter...I mean...Mort for a while."
Luckily, Psnoo was still infatuated with Mort. "She did!"
Bon-bon turned to DB, "Whatever do you mean?"
"So I convinced all the writes to go on strike..." Psnoo continued as Mort looked on with astonishment.
"You know...the amorous overtones," DB whispered conspiratorially.
"I see..." Bon-bon's eyes narrowed.
"... I had to go Sh-Psnoo on her before Arenas found it for us," Psnoo nodded to Mort.
"I think Psnoo's gone a bit psycho about the whole Mortybear thing, see?" DB gestured to the pair huddled close together.
"Did you get the screwdriver?" Mort asked.
"... and I'm worried about your safety," DB finished.
"No, no screwdriver," Psnoo shook her head. "But I threatened. Like I said, Arenas found it in my own introduction thread-..."
Bon-bon rolled her eyes at the display. She didn't even bother to whisper. "She's obviously deprived. I mean... what girl wouldn't want a perfectly hunky, mussed up Mort all for themselves?"
Psnoo noticed. Psnoo didn't like shemales talking quite like that.
"Uh...keep your voice down," DB muttered having heard the awkward silence.
"Why should I?" Bon-bon drew back, outrage in her eyes. "I love Mortybear! I want him!"
Psnoo tactfully decided it'd be better to keep the peace when Mort was around. "Aren't you happy to see me, Mort?"
"How about...um...Jack? Or Sands?" DB smiled slightly, trying to get Bon-bon off the touchy subject or perhaps change her mind.
"I brought corn!" Psnoo nodded.
"Of course I'm happy to see you. Why wouldn't I be?" Mort asked. Psnoo didn't answer, just start kissing him lightly again.
"Or Edward?" DB was getting desperate. Bon-bon hadn't replied yet. "He could do your hair!"
"Jack's an alcoholic, Sands is psycho and Edward will slice me twenty different ways if I try and get close to him! No offense of course..." she added as an after thought.
"It's the last of the season I'm afraid," Psnoo sighed, trying to block out the other woman.
"Afraid of what?" Mort asked.
"It's almost winter. We won't be growing any more corn," Psnoo pointed out. "We'll have to wait until next year."
"Well..." Mort scratched his chin. "We still have enough from the harvest, don't we?"
"Listen, BB... this is a matter of life and death here," DB tried to get her conversation back on track. She didn't care about corn. She cared about Bon-bon's welfare.
"She wouldn't kill me!" Bon-bon cried indignantly.
"Morty...let's go for a walk," Psnoo looked as though she'd had enough. The last of her kisses had left them both breathless, but it wasn't quite the same with Bon-bon present.
Mort grinned, "How could I say no?"
"Oh... well... you never know..." DB wouldn't make eye contact for multiple reasons. "Listen, you're the last of the Unangeled on the island."
"I am? What happened to Gilbert?" Bon-bon snorted.
"Com'on, let's go!" Psnoo announced happily as she tugged Mort to his feet.
"Erm...oh. I probably wasn't supposed to tell you that. Arenas isn't around, is she?" DB seemed to squirm slightly.
"Oh... I suppose I could have guessed..." Bon-bon stared at the ground. DB was quiet as she listened for Psnoo and Mort walking away from the camp on their sojourn. Bon-bon was listening too and wasn't quite as thrilled.
"Buck up, girl," DB replied. "You've gotta get your head in the game!"
Down the path to the ocean, Psnoo was coming up with a perfectly evil plan. "Mortybear..." Psnoo smiled and batted her eyes. "Let's ask BB to come with us."
Mort's face drooped. He hated that shemale, why would Psnoo possibly want to inflict her misery on him now? "But... why do you want... HER to come?"
"Well... let's just say that she wouldn't be a problem for long," Psnoo's voice dripped honey and poison.
A new spark ignited in Mort's eye. "I don't think I've got an objection..."
Psnoo grinned widely and began to call to the duo still at the camp. "Oh BB..." she sang.
DB had been in the process of telling Bon-bon what she should do if she wanted to get to the final two. Bon-bon wasn't particularly interested; she was still pining after Mort.
"Here's what I want you to do," DB explained. "Get in an alliance with Sands and Jack. Use your devious mind." Psnoo's faint calls began to escalate in pitch to the point where DB couldn't ignore it any longer. "GO AWAY, PSNOO!"
"We're just going to go for a walk..." Psnoo answered entirely too cheerfully. "Mort wants you to come... BB..."
Mort decided to facilitate the process and added a whistle to Psnoo's requests. "Come out come out... wherever you are..."
DB had had quite enough. She managed to follow the sound of Psnoo's voice to her exact position and grab the out of line Angel by the ear. "Primera, back off!"
"OUCH!" Psnoo yelped.
This of course hadn't stopped Bon-bon from hearing Mort's odd change of mood. "Mortybear...? Oh Mortybear, is it you? Do you want me to come?"
Mort hesitated. "Um... yeah... please..."
DB smacked her forehead. "Good God. Now look what you've done!"
Bon-bon, however, was elated. "But of course, Mortybear!"
"Arenas is going to kill us! We're not even supposed to be here!" DB moaned. Tampering with the Johnnies was one thing, but knocking them off? Something told her that Arenas would not be using the water pistol if she caught them on the island again. This was the last thing on Psnoo's mind.
"Mort...aren't you going to defend me here?" she asked as she tried to disentangle herself from DB's iron grip. DB couldn't spare a glance for her mentor/former 'kick. Bon-bon was coming full speed to Mort.
"Bon Bon! No! Go back to the fire!" DB yelled.
Mort managed to adopt a deer in the headlights look as Bon-bon galloped ever closer. "Well... pretty soon, I won't have that option..."
Psnoo pulled free and grabbed Mort's hand. "Just try me, blondie."
"No! Mortybear needs his Bon-bon! Precious!!!" Bon-bon howled. Instead of stopping as most people would have upon seeing their love claimed by another, she continued her mad dash at Mort. DB heard the pounding footsteps and attempted to do something about them. She jumped between what she took to be Bon-bon and Mort.
"STOP!"
"Lemme at her!!!" Psnoo growled.
"SANDS!!!" DB cried in a last ditch effort. It was far too late. Bon-bon ran headlong into DB and both women went tumbling into the grass. DB yelped, unable to catch her balance. Psnoo found this utterly hilarious and collapsed, taking Mort with her.
"Oh... hmm... this is interesting..." she smirked.
"But not entirely bad..." Mort admitted.
Sands, taking his sweet time of it, made his way over to the toppled women and Mort. Instead of offering a helping hand, he stood there, arms crossed. "All right. I'm confused as anything and I want an explanation."
"Psnoo is trying to steal Mort!" DB pointed wildly in Psnoo's direction. Kind of. "She's trying to rig the game!"
"I savvy," Sands nodded thoughtfully. "But I actually admire that DB. Why should I stop her?"
"Oh, lord. What has Arenas done to you?" DB sighed, "Nevermind." She got up and brushed herself off. Sands wasn't quite finished with the conversation.
"Well, I'd say she made me into an even bigger smart aleck, thanks very much."
"Lovely." If DB had eyes to roll, she most certainly would have.
Psnoo suddenly burst out laughing, "Morty, you need to shave."
Mort's nose wrinkled. "What do you recommend I shave with? A coconut?"
"I gave you one of my pockets, thank you very much," Psnoo replied.
Bon-bon still hadn't moved from her position. In truth, she was feeling a bit put out. Why would Mortybear call her over only to have her witness his... rendezvousing with the enemy? She sniffed the tears back. "Mortybear... what is going on?"
"Bon-bon... can't you see he's taken?" DB asked quietly. "He's not worth it."
"But... the Terms of Service!" Tears were creating muddy tracks down Bon-bon's cheeks.
Mort hadn't heard Bon-bon's soft plea for attention. He stoked his stubbly chin in thought, "That's right... I think I also went swimming with that pocket..."
"Morty!" Psnoo wailed. "Did you dry it out?"
"The... the what?" DB asked, trying to follow Bon-bon's train of thought. That girl was a handful.
"The Terms of Service! It says nothing about Johnnies unable to be angels to Johnnies!"
Mort, meanwhile, was biting his lip. He had forgotten to dry the pocket out. Oh well... honesty was the best policy, so he shook his head no. Psnoo didn't look even remotely mad. She sighed, and then smiled fondly. "I have to do everything for you, don't I?"
"He already has an Angel!" DB cried exasperatedly. "Only one angel per Johnny. You know that."
"You don't hear me saying no, do you?" Mort arched an eyebrow.
"That's the way it is with creative geniuses." Psnoo remarked.
"Bon Bon, pull yourself together before Psnoo and Mort make me puke," DB grimaced. Bon-bon refused to let it go.
"It's not fair! What about Shooter? Can't she have Shooter?"
Psnoo wasn't going to leave that statement hanging. She whipped around, ready to face the shemale. "They're both mine, missy. You'd best remember that."
Bon-bon would not back down. "Come here and say that!"
DB managed to give the impression of glaring at Psnoo. Bon-bon was her last shot at winning the prize and Primera or not, Psnoo would not ruin it! "Weren't you going for a walk?"
Psnoo refused to listen. She jumped up in an instant and launched herself at Bon-bon.
"Oh, good god," DB smacked her forehead. "This calls for desperate measures." Whether her next action was really effective or not was up for debate. It still stood that DB didn't mind it and Mort didn't exactly protest it either. DB grabbed Mort and kissed him soundly on the lips.
The epic catfight continued in the background. Bon-bon got in a smack or two, and Psnoo fought just as hard.
"He's mine on the island, bucko!" Bon-bon hissed. Psnoo didn't answer beyond pulling out her paintball gun and plastering Bon-bon with glow-in-the-dark paint.
DB sighed and relinquished Mort. "Well, that didn't work too well. Nice, though," she added as an afterthought. She grinned evilly. "Let's try again."
"HA!" Psnoo cried triumphantly. "Now he'll see you coming from a mile away!"
"Why you little-...!" Bon-bon screeched and tackled Psnoo about the knees. The momentum from the two falling bodies carried them over to DB and Mort where they fell on top of the two kissing figures. Mort and DB managed little more than grunts from the impact. Sands, the casual observer, had more oomph to his statement.
"Gosh," he snickered. "I should charge Pay Per view rates for this."
But the fight was far from over. In the tumble, Psnoo grabbed Bon-bon's wig.
"Ha! Now where's that fire!!!" Psnoo scrambled upright and began to sprint for the Hahaga fire.
"THAT'S IT!" DB yelled. With a mighty leap, she tackled Psnoo before much more damage could be done to the wig.
"Nooooooo!!!" Psnoo wailed.
"You've gone too far, Primera!" DB growled.
Bon-bon noticed that the air was gusting a little too hard up top. With a cautious tap to her skull, she screamed and went to rip the wig out of Psnoo's hand. Bon-bon's uncoordinated attack casued her to succeed only in falling on top of DB and Psnoo.
"Have to burn the wig!" Psnoo snarled after an undignified grunt.
Sands turned to Mort who was watching the carnage with a morbid fascination. "All this over you, boyo."
"Me?" Mort looked sheepish.
"Yeah, you. You're popular now, let's face it," Sands shrugged.
"I'm not sure I like it," Mort admitted.
DB recovered from her second pig pile of the day by pulling out another roll of handy dandy duct tape. Psnoo saw it coming.
"NOOOO!!!" She began squirming and fighting like mad. DB proved the superior in the scuffle managed to duct tape her Mort in the hopes of keeping her quiet. The reaction was instantaneous.
"Mmmm... Morty..." Psnoo hummed.
"Not like that?" Sands smirked in response to Mort's hanging jaw. DB didn't bother warning Sands. She just stuck another piece of duct tape over Sands' mouth.
"That's a different matter entirely..." Mort murmured, locking gazes with Psnoo. Sands rolled his eyes, despising this mushy carp. DB took the opportunity to tape Bon-bon's wig back on as well. Bon-bon wasted no time in patting the misshapen lump back into some semblance of a shape.
"Morty...I heart you," Psnoo whispered.
Mort's throat chenched. "I heart you, too. And I miss you... I'm sorry about this mess."
"Okay..." DB managed to mutter before passing out cold. Bon-bon on the other hand...
"FINE! I NEVER LIKED YOU ANYWAY!" she yelled and stormed off.
"Ohh... she passed out," Psnoo glanced at her former mentor, no sidekick. Before lingering too long, she turned her attention to the annoyed Sands. "Hey, SJ, let us go. I did you a big favor with those stories, remember? Remember... stories that went on for months..."
Sands had to evaluate his options. He could free Psnoo and Mort and that'd be perfectly alright with him. But this whole 'guilt' thing was new to him. He'd spent an awful long time with DB. Psnoo was a fun Angel to hang around, but so was DB. And DB had been first. But the magnificent chaos that would come from his letting Psnoo go! But DB... Who would be the least annoyed with him? Or more importantly... whose gun hurt more?
"And they had really good endings..." Psnoo continued, trying to win Sands over. "And FF and I are still writing one..."
Maybe he'd finally get to find out why everyone was calling him SJ and Jeffrey if he gave in to Psnoo. Besides... wasn't DB passed out? One little strip wouldn't hurt matters. He approached Psnoo and Mort cautiously, watching to make sure nobody was likely to blast his head off. DB seemed to have her own agenda and began to come out of her faint.
Psnoo sensed her time was running out. "I'll take the tape off your mouth!" Psnoo bargained desperately. Sands stopped cold, knowing just what DB was like when she woke up.
"...not happy..." DB groaned.
"Come on..." Psnoo pleaded. "I just want to hug my man. No more cat fights."
"But I like cat fights..." Sands murmured, his voice distorted by the tape.
"Hey, you jumped Bon Bon. You, Psnoo," DB spoke, having caught Psnoo's desperate comment. "I think..."
"I'll start another fight," Psnoo whispered while DB was distracted.
"Yep, you," DB nodded to herself.
"Don't make me use the full name," Psnoo threatened.
"Just leave me and Bon-bon alone. We have some talking to do. Go play house with Mort," DB waved Psnoo's comments off.
Sands didn't think Psnoo would make idle threats. "You wouldn't," he growled through his tape.
Psnoo looked at DB suspiciously. "Talking...? What kind of 'talking?'" She then turned to Sands, "I would too."
"None of your business, missus," DB replied haughtily.
"I don't like this," Psnoo pointed out.
Sands couldn't take the lack of action much longer. He turned to DB with his eyebrow raised clearly asking 'Should I let them go?' DB, having hung around Sands long enough to be able to interpret his silences knew what he was asking. Her answer was comprised of her grabbing him by the collar and dragging him with her.
"We'll leave you two alone, Primera," DB announced and followed the pained whimpers of Bon-bon.
"Hey! Who's mentoring whom around here, DB!" Psnoo yelled as a last ditch effort.
Sands wasn't concerned with such trivial questions. He was busy not suffocating from being unable to breath through his mouth. DB tore the tape off non too kindly, unable to take his wheezing much longer. Why he refused to switch to candyettes was anybody's guess. DB would be having a talk with Arenas about converting him soon enough.
"Just whose side are you on?" she hissed
Sands was still gasping for air, but he still found the time to glare at DB. "My own side. Savvy?"
"Hmmph. Okay... go do whatever you want. I just think you should be working on an alliance, if you're not already. Imagine... you and Bon-bon as the final two. Who do you think the viewing audience would pick?" DB spoke with a quiet rationality.
"I HEARD THAT!!!" Psnoo yelled, not liking the Johnny favoritism.
"And just what did you hear, missy?" DB turned to face Psnoo's voice.
"Well...a lot of mumbling," Psnoo murmured. "But it doesn't take a scientist to figure out what you're up to!"
DB smirked. "Truce, girl. We've got to get outta here before we get in trouble with Arenas."
"I sort of like the sound of that," Sands confessed, still continuing the conversation. "But Mort was the first one to actually accept me as an evil psychotic personality. So I can't say Bon-bon would be my best route right now."
"It's a game, Sands. You and Mort as the final two? That's awfully honorable. And I'm not sure you would win. He's incredibly popular," DB warned.
"Psst...so's SJ!" Psnoo hissed.
Sands shrugged. "He's killed people, I've killed people."
"Your funeral," DB sighed.
"I have not killed people," Mort cried.
"Sweetie...we've been over this," Psnoo murmured to her Johnny. DB began to lose interest in her former Johnny and went to check on Bon-bon to patch up issues there. Bon-bon apparently didn't not like Mort anyway. She was still huddled in a little ball trying valiantly to hold back tears. Upon DB's approach, she looked up and adopted a mean look.
"Why haven't you all left yet? Can't a girl wallow in her misery alone? Where's the Ben & Jerry's?
So as to make Bon-bon feel as terrible as possible, Psnoo began to kiss Mort. A lot. DB did not let it phase her and sat down next to Bon-bon.
"Buck up, girl. All the Unangeled are pulling for you. You know that. As for the B&J..." DB broke off as she looked deep in thought. Seconds later a pint of Karamel Sutra and a spoon were in the transvestite's hands. Bon-bon smiled weakly.
"My favorite flavor. Thanks DB. What did I ever do without you?"
Psnoo would not be discouraged. She continued her noisy and obnoxious kisses. SJ wasn't amused and in fact, was rather annoyed with the effeminate air permeating the camp.
"I sure hope Jack or Duke's doing something more interesting than snogging or eating their woes away," he grumbled.
"Remind me why I liked you?" DB sneered.
Sands smirked. "Because I'm a bad apple? And cool to boot?"
Duke, where ever he was, would have been proud. Psnoo wasn't quite confined to the good qualities of the English language.
"Sexy as hell!" Psnoo shouted as well.
Sands jerked a thumb at Psnoo. "That too."
Mort snorted in laughter. He could let Psnoo's comment slide; Sands' ego was a hoot.
"Her words, not mine," Psnoo assured her Mortybear.
"I'm sure..." Mort snickered.
"Hm. Yes, but... you lack maturity," DB replied. "Go play with yourself. We're having girl talk."
"I'm sure you realize just how wrong that sounded. And you have the gall to call me immature," Sands said flatly.
"I'm learning from the best." DB returned to her chat with the still mildly distressed Unangeled Johnny. "Listen, Bon Bon, I have to go. My alter ego is past her bedtime. Pathetic, I know. But you'll be okay. Just get your head in the game. There's lots of fish in the sea. There's a fella out there who can appreciate you for who you are. Somewhere," she added quickly.
Bon-bon sniffled mightily. "Really?"
"Girl. You kiddin'? You're cute. Sexy. And nobody smuggles contraband like you," DB beamed. Psnoo gagged, knowing what exactly DB was talking about. "Gezundheit!" DB cocked her head.
"No... No they don't!" A new light began to shine in Bon-bon's eyes. It was a feeling of pride and empowerment. She leaned over to share a hug with DB before rising to her feet. "Thank you, Dangerbabe!" Bon-bon hugged the Bosley Angel again for extra emphasis and skipped back to camp.
"You're making me...." Psnoo started. Mort cut her off with a hand over her mouth and shook his head.
"Wow. She skipped," DB sounded puzzled. "I've never seen her skip before."
"EWWW!!!" Psnoo shouted.
"Need I say it?" Sands glanced at DB.
"Please don't."
"Good. Because you get used to it after awhile," Sands nodded sagely. DB laughed in somewhat better humor with the 'bad apple' than she had been.
"Virgin eyes!" Psnoo wailed.
Be it the comments, the kissing, the gagging, or the late hour at Angel Headquarters, DB was ready to bail. "Okay, Psnoo. I'm pulling rank as Bosley. Let's get outta here."
"Hey, whoa wait! I'm still attached!" Mort cried.
"Not without my Morty!" Psnoo pouted.
"Not that I mind or anything..." Mort shook his head.
"Morty..." Psnoo was conflicted. She wanted Mort home and away from the shemale. But she wanted him to win the game.
"You know what you have to do to satisfy your angel, Mort. Get voted out," DB murmured.
Mort shrugged. "How can I say no to that?"
Sands was seated on a log and poking the fire with a stick. This had allowed him the best image of nonchalance while being able to take in every bit of conversation. "Take him now. I'll say abducted by aliens... no Tribal Council for anyone."
"I wouldn't object," DB grinned evilly.
"NO! You don't get to rig the game!" Psnoo shouted. She then proceeded to pout.
"I'm not rigging, I'm offering a helpful alternative," Sands replied.
"We're not?" DB frowned. "I mean... we're not!"
"We're being professional," Sands smirked.
"Don't you want me to come with you?" Mort asked.
"Mort, you have to win fair, square, or by Shooter," Psnoo answered solemnly.
"Mort... you can't just sneak out," DB shook her head, possibly thinking of what Arenas would do if she found out they'd stolen one of the Johnnies off the island.
Psnoo teared up. "No, you have to win. Win for me. It'll make a great story. Just think about it."
"I don't want to spend more time with BB! I'm afraid! I want the cabin, I want the reclaimed couch!-" Mort stopped. He was not whiny by nature, not at all. This endeavor had been much more taxing than he'd thought, but he wouldn't quit now. Not when his Angel was rooting for him. "I'll do it for you."
"Bon-bon just might be off your hands... that is, if you can keep Shooter's hands off of her," DB pointed out. Sands sighed and turned back to the fire. He hoped this soap opera would reach a conclusion. Or at least a great ending; something along the lines of Survivor having been all some dream by a kid who was sick. It didn't seem to be.
Psnoo grinned encouragingly at Mort. "I know you can do it. And when you get back you'll have a newly defragged computer waiting for you."
"Well, I'd snog you, boyo, but I have to respect Arenas," DB turned to the brooding Sands with an arched eyebrow. This seemed to get him out of his funk quick enough.
"But a quick one? For old times sake?" he winked suggestively.
Mort smiled briefly before searching the magic pocket. He managed to find what he was looking for and withdrew Shooter's hat. "You'd better take it..."
"Whoa. Is that the hat?" DB gasped.
Mort nodded. "Psnoo left it at camp the first time."
"But you're so hot in it..." Psnoo sighed dreamily.
DB looked torn. "He's so damn hot. Wait... did I say that out loud?"
She apparently had. "DB! You owe me an assignment for that one!" Psnoo shouted.
"Oh lordy..." Sands rolled his eyes.
"What ? What one?" DB remembered that Sands had said something.
"I don't see Arenas here DB..." Sands hadn't forgotten.
"All right, but quick, sugarbutt!" DB conceded.
Sands didn't need to be told twice. He swept DB off her feet and went in for the kill. Now, any sane girl will say that being kissed by a Johnny would be fantastic. Being kissed by one of the more passionate (save Don Juan) and psychotic of the bunch... DB wouldn't have had a chance had she not been familiar with Sands' ministrations before-hand. As it was, she still had trouble staying totally conscious.
"So, you're going to stay, Morty?" Psnoo asked shyly.
"I guess I will," Mort nodded.
"Win one for the Kipper," Psnoo grinned.
Mort's heart melted. "I'd love to hug you but... I'm still duct taped up," he murmured apologetically.
"Umm... someone... help?" Psnoo craned her head around.
Luckily for them, Sands decided to take a break. "How was that, sugarbutt?:
"Wheeeeeeeee..." DB managed.
"A little bit of help here?" Psnoo called again.
"Maybe I am coming with you," Mort shrugged.
"Don't tempt me," Psnoo pleaded.
"I'm not," Mort admitted.
"Yes... you are. The cabin isn't the same without you," Psnoo sighed.
"SJ... you cheeky devil. I'll catch you later. And remember what I told you about BB. Think about it. Okay?" DB asked sincerely.
"All right. I'll think on it... if I must," Sands didn't promise more than that. He reluctantly let DB up to free Psnoo and Mort. The two fall to the ground with a thump, but recovered fairly quickly.
"Hug before I go," Psnoo insisted. Mort obliged, wrapping his arms around his Angel without fear and squeezed tightly. DB waited politely, but not altogether patiently.
"Psnoo! Back pocket! Let's go!" she announced.
"Can we use Mort's back pocket?" Psnoo asked innocently.
"Oy," DB smacked her forehead. Mort, however, liked the suggestion. He grinned and kissed Psnoo soundly, 5 o'clock shadow and all.
"If it'll get you off the island," DB sighed.
Mort opened the temporary pocket. "All ready."
"Wait... I don't want you in his back pocket," Psnoo pointed at DB. "Why don't you imagine yourself back, and I'll meet you there."
Sands began coughing and hacking. It was quite obviously not the cigarettes this time and DB was not amused.
"You first," she stated simply.
"But-..." Psnoo protested.
"Girl... I haven't got reason to stay. You do. Hit the pocket and I'll imagine when you've gone!" DB argued.
"But I could be a contender!" Psnoo yelled.
"GO!" DB ordered.
Mort knew it wouldn't be long before DB became overly annoyed and kissed Psnoo again, hoping to persuade her to see reason. He led her gently to his Velcro pocket with a quiet, 'I love you.'
"I don't wanna!" Psnoo whined. DB wouldn't budge. She grabbed Psnoo and proceeded to stuff her into Mort's pocket with force. Mort, ever the patient man, bit his lip and wouldn't say anything. Sands had been taking lessons in self-control over the weeks and decided now wasn't the time to state the obvious. Not when DB had called him 'immature' at any rate.
DB raised her head when she was finished. "Is that a Psnoo in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?"
"I don't know... ask me again in a bit," Mort murmured as he watched the events unfold in the pocket.
Sands could dig it and clapped Mort on the shoulder. "I knew I liked you."
Without another word, DB had decided she'd disturbed Hahaga (or at least 3 of them) for one night and imagined herself back at Angel Headquarters.
"How do they do that?" Mort asked.
"Imagination. It's contagious," Sands shrugged.
"I see," Mort replied, unsure of whether he really did or not.
"Where do you think everyone else ran off to?" Sands tried eying the trees for clues as to the whereabouts of the rest of Hahaga.
"Nananananananananana... and really bad eggs... drink up me 'earties, yo HO!"
"There," Mort and Sands agreed.
Jack
--- "What them scurvy dogs don't know is... We saw th'whole thin'! Ye wouldn' know it, we kept quiet so as t'best listen in. Ah... blackmail is a beautiful thin'."
Inaga- Morning
--- The restful day had been great for the tiring team. Each member woke up at least an hour before they normally did and there was a general feeling of alert peace. They were ready for anything.
"Hey General... get the mail, will you?" Spencer asked. He craned his head to get a look of the General from his way-too-comfy log. When Donnie rolled his eyes, Spencer tried out a new trick he'd picked up recently. He pouted adorable. Axel bit his lip and buried his head in his arms. What a turnaround for the creepy, malicious alien! Donnie snorted.
"How can I say no to that face?"
Spencer perked up. Would the General do his bidding?
"Fuhgettaboutit."
Spencer's jaw dropped. He'd been led to understand that those... 'puppy dog eyes' worked every time! Gosh darn it! He wasn't being cute and soft for no reason! Donnie shrugged sympathetically.
"I probably shouldn't be tempting your wrath, but you've gotta' admit... it's too nice to move."
Spencer grumbled. Arrogant Generals thinking they're better than everyone else. Bloody stupid...
"I'll get it it," Ichy gave a martyred sigh and rose on stiff legs. Spencer almost told him not to (not really out of the goodness of his heart, mind you) but decided against it. It was an awfully comfy log.
"I hope you feel good about yourself," Donnie smirked.
"I do," Spencer nodded before pillowing his head on his hands and closing his eyes. Donnie shook his head and returned to watching the fire. Some habits just refused to die.
"Um... this is interesting. Very interesting..." Ichy murmured. He had returned, immersed in what appeared to be the clue.
"What is it?" Sam asked,
"A game of chance, I presume," Ichy's eyebrow quirked.
The challenge of choice involves a chain
Play it wrong, it'll be your bane
From king of the jungle to the bottom rung
Organism of all kinds might steal your fun
Get the top creature and you have to pick
Who will suffer or benefit from this little card trick
"Gosh... that is interesting," Axel frowned.
"I guess we can't practice for this one," Sam sighed.
"Quit your whining. We'll win, you watch," Spencer cracked an eyelid open. Nobody met his gaze. So Spencer growled and left his log.
"Come on, the sooner we get there, the sooner you can all realize you're over reacting.
"I hope so," Ichy muttered.
Hahaga- Afternoon
--- When Hahaga arrived at the clearing, it was Inaga that they first saw. And for the first time, they were conscious that the gap between both teams wasn't exactly as big as they'd like.
"Hahaga, welcome. Are we ready to start?" the host surveyed the gathered tribes. There was some nodding, some stubborn silences; it all meant the same thing: Let's get this over with so we can leave.
"I assume your challenge gave you a bit of trouble this time around. Well you won't be kept in suspense any longer. Today's challenge is a simple one. Each team has their own set of 5 cards lying face down on the table. One member per tribe will approach the bench and select one of their cards. When the word is given, each member will flip their chosen car over. The card will have a sweet potato, a cockroach, a lobster, a horse or a cannibal on it. If you choose the sweet potato, you will more than likely be at the mercy of the other person. If you find the cannibal, you are in pretty good shape. See, the pictures indicate a position on the food chain in Rapa Nui. The sweet potato on the bottom, then the cockroach, the lobster, the horse and the cannibal. Therefore, the person with the highest card in that order gets his choice. He can spin this handy wheel, or his opponent can. On it are yet more cryptic pictograms," the host winked. "Who ever spun the wheel must consume what it lands on. I'm sure you all recognize the apple pie and steak. Are you sure you want to risk the other foods?"
Sands had zoned out. Steak? Bloody rare? Oh gosh... His stomach growled loudly in response to his thoughts. Duke glanced over to see the trouble and was promptly punched in the shoulder for his troubles. Duke rolled his eyes and decided he didn't much care anymore.
"If both players have the same picture on their cards, they must both eat what I spin. Play will continue until someone pukes. Pretty easy, right? The prize this time is pretty nice in all actuality. You get to take a cruise. There will be a feast with actual edible food and you get to see the entire island in its entire splendor. Nobody has to sit this game out. Who's first for Inaga?"
Donnie turned to confer with his team mates, but found Ichabod already striding over to the table. Donnie traded a look with Axel who just shrugged.
"Ichabod, I take it?"
"None other," he replied casually.
"Hahaga? Who will be first?"
Sands didn't hesitate. He wanted that steak.
"That'd be me, sugarbutt. You have a problem?"
"Not at all," the host shook his head as Sands stood opposite Ichabod.
"Survivors, pick a card!"
Ichy took the second from the right. Sands selected the left.
"Flip the cards."
Ichy had a sweet potato. Sands had a cannibal. Ichy shrunk from his card and cringed, waiting to here Sands' obvious verdict. After all, who really wanted to tempt the fate of the wheel?
"Sands you've got the highest card. Who spins?" the host asked.
"I will," he replied coolly.
"That's awfully brave of you. All right, take a place beside the wheel and give it a whirl."
Sands glanced at the steak at the very top of the wheel. He could rig the game and do a tiny spin, but nobody would look very kindly on that. So he tested the waters for a 450-degree turn. The wheel was greased up and waiting. All he'd have to worry about was not overshooting and getting the octopus. He spun the wheel.
The wheel had other agendas. It shot past the steak a first and a second time to finally land on, ironically, a sweet potato. Sands sighed. It could have been worse, but it wasn't what he wanted. The unassuming root was place in front of him and he took a couple of bites. It was a challenge, he couldn't really back down from such an easy test.
"The whole thing?" Sands asked having swallowed another mouthful. The host nodded and Sands rolled his eyes. Blast. Seconds later it was gone and Jack and Sam were facing off.
"Pick you cards."
Jack went for the middle while Sam went with Ichy's second from the right.
"Flip them over."
2 sweet potatoes were presented.
"All right guys, I'm going to spin the wheel. You both have to eat whatever it lands on, okay?"
They nodded and watched as the wheel spun round and round. Watched as it landed on the pie. There were groans of depression from both tribes as 2 slices of apple pie were set in front of both Survivors.
"Best of luck, mate. I know it must be tough fer ye t'eat that," Jack smirked. Sam nodded and smiled. The pie was dispatched and the 2 contestants returned to their teams. Spencer and Duke were next. They were followed by Donnie and Bon-bon, and Axel and Edward. The highlight had been Edward's spin of 'steak' and Sands anguished moan. In fact, it was a pretty mellow challenge compared to some of the others. Axel managed to avoid fish based foods and nobody was overly squeamish. The host decided to up the ante, as it were.
"Okay, we've each been at this several times now. I'd like to finish this up before to much longer if you know what I mean. Just think of me as Monty Hall and you'll do fine. Next Survivors, approach the table."
Sands and Spencer took their places.
"Pick your card and present it."
Sands displayed a sweet potato and Spencer, a cockroach.
"Spencer, you decide. I have 2 objects of equal edibility. You won't know what they are until you pick one or the other. You both must consume it. Which object would you like?"
Spencer felt his shoulders slumping. Not good. "Number 1."
"Number 1... number 1... Well, I don't envy you. 1 pint of cow's blood. Cold."
"Oh good. I've been missing my V-8," Sands drawled. A mug of cow's blood was placed in front of both team members.
"Survivors, mugs at the ready."
Sands picked up a glass and offered to clink with Spencer who looked physically sick. The other man gave up and settled the glass at his lips. Spencer's hand was shaking as he didn't likewise.
"Sickos," he whispered.
"Survivors! Chug!"
It was the smoothie challenge all over again. Spencer's hand was clamped viciously over his nose and was drinking as fast as he dared. Sands was taking his time, sensing no threat from Spencer's corner. It wasn't a race, rather a test to see who would puke first. Sands finished and decided that waiting half an hour while Spencer went at it like a Queen sipping tea was not a pleasing thought. So he began to talk.
He spoke of the taste, and just about everything else he could think of. Anything designed to freak Spencer out. Sands liked to think of himself as a master of manipulation, this was the perfect opportunity to test this theory. And Spencer was growing even paler.
"I can't do it. No, I refuse. This is barbaric, you hear me? I see the meat, but the blood? No, no, I'm not finishing this stuff," Spencer slammed the glass down. Sands took the opportunity to wipe the red mustache off his lip and take a breath. Mission accomplished.
"All right, Inaga. That'd mean Hahaga wins."
"I don't rightly care. It's a cruise. We don't need a cruise," Spencer grumbled.
Edward
--- "I'm not unhappy that we won... but was it legal?"
Sands
--- "The way I figure it... they never said we couldn't distract people. If it was against the rules, they can't convince me otherwise. They never put it in the rules for me to break."
Spencer
--- "Pigs. The lot of you."
Inaga- Night
--- Axel was in his customary fish whisperer trance. It was another busy night out there, and Axel wanted in. Spencer was leaning against a tree keeping to himself. It was his fault, and he still didn't care. He needed peace and rest. Nothing would distract him.
"Hey out there, are you all well?" Axel called softly. He hoped the fish were of saner minds than the last time he's spoken to them. Spencer wasn't in the mood to play so he left Axel alone.
"That's good, good. Anything new down there?"
"Word from JA is that Roo's not doing too well, Axel," a quiet voice spoke. Spencer jumped, not expecting to hear an answer to Axel's questions. Or perhaps, more importantly, one in such close proximity.
"What about Roo?" Axel tensed.
"She misses you, Axel. She wants to know you're okay."
"I-... I'm fine!" Axel stammered, not liking the turn of events. "Who are you?"
Spencer poked his head into the bushes and saw a girl kneeling just behind the foliage. His eyes narrowed.
"I could ask the same thing," he hissed.
"Oh, please, Spencer, let me talk to Axel like this! I'm not doing any harm!"
"Who are you? I know the Angels and well... I don't recognize you."
"I'm Lynx. I... I'm concerned for Roo, alright? I just want Axel to know she's thinking of him and she misses him."
"Why can't Roo come by herself?"
"Because she's been really busy. Can't you find it in the bottom of your heart to let me do this for her? You've got a good side, I know it! You're a dear, Spencer, I know you are!"
"And how would you know this?" Spencer raised an eyebrow.
"Because I've been following this from the beginning."
Spencer sighed and peeked over at Axel who was now frantically calling for the fish bearing Roo news. He looked about ready to burst into tears himself and too many moody Johnnies just would not do. With a grudging nod, he returned to his tree post and let Lynx work her magic.
"Please, please answer me! Where are you? Where's Roo?" Axel pleaded desperately.
"I'm sorry for the delay, Axel. Roo is just really busy. I'm sure she'd love to come, but right now, I think reassurance would do well enough. She misses you Axel."
"Then I have to get voted off, don't I? I can! I can leave and see Roo-..."
"No! You've gotta win for her, Axel! Just make sure you don't forget who you're fighting for, okay? Whenever you feel helpless or depressed, remember your Angel, Axel. She'll appreciate it."
"I... I can do that too," Axel still looked visibly shaken.
"Good bye Axel. I must tell Roo the good news. Stay well, Axel!"
"O-Okay..." Axel whispered.
Spencer gave the mysterious girl time to escape before he looked into the brush again. Sure enough, it was empty. Axel hadn't moved and he looked about to faint. Maybe that girl... Lynx?... was right in that he did have a good side. Spencer got up and sat down next to Axel.
"I bet Roo's okay. Trust me on this."
"Easy for you to say," Axel muttered.
"C'mon. It's alien intuition. I know these things."
"Really?" Axel looked upward, eyes red.
"Really really, Fish Boy," Spencer's mouth quirked into a lopsided smile. Axel couldn't fight back the laugh at the nickname.
"Thanks, Spence."
Hahaga- Late morning
--- Last night's festivities had lasted well into the evening. In fact, the mental anguish of waking up at the normal time had kept many a Survivor in bed much later than they would have liked. The ones that braved the lethargy were wrapped around their rice bowls trying to extract as much warmth as they could.
"Are we ah... goin to be able to... perform in the next challenge?" Duke mumbled.
"I dunno," Sands bit back a yawn.
"I should think we can," Edward nodded hopefully. Nobody had the heart or energy to tell Edward otherwise.
"Should I check the mail? Or will you?" Sands slurred, pointing at Duke.
"Yeah, I'll do it. Why not?" Duke shrugged and staggered to his feet. When he could stand upright, he staggered into the brush. Jack managed to join the fire in the time it took for Duke to return.
"'S a strength one," Duke tossed the clue to Sands having already analyzed it as much as he cared.
"Strength, hm?" Sands rubbed his eyes and squinted at the lettering.
King of the mountain
Over the middle of the
Ocean on platforms
"Oh," Edward sighed. He hated the ocean. And strength wasn't exactly his finest aspect.
"Buck up, mate. Ye won't be needin' t'be discouraged if we can help it," Jack clapped Edward on the back companionably.
"Really?" Edward brightened.
"O' course!" Jack grinned.
"Then ah... we'd better wake Mort and Bon-bon if we... want to get going," Duke pointed out.
"I'd better do it... make sure everything's working out," Sands said cryptically. He left the orange glow to check up on the sleeping Johnny's. Bon-bon, good on her word, was at the opposite end of the tent and had made no move to snuggle closer to Mort. Sands shook Mort awake first, knowing that he probably wouldn't be interrupting a dream that would scar him for life were he to find out. Mort started awake with a snort.
"We're leaving, savvy? You've gotta come, whether you participate or not."
Mort groaned, finally realizing what the other man was talking about. Challenge day. Again.
"Wake up. I'll get Bon-bon."
"Bon-bon?"
"Over there," Sands pointed.
Mort managed to steal a look at the serene woman and smiled.
Inaga- Afternoon
--- Inaga's first sight of the playing field was of a giant log in the middle of the ocean. King of the mountain indeed.
Hahaga was quite the rag tag lot stumbling onto their green carpet like a bunch of hung-over hobos. That was the team that had beat them before? It was either a grave insult or clinched their victory for today. Spencer hoped they'd simply partied too hard last night.
"I see you all found your way here, good for you, tribes," the host smiled. "Welcome to your next challenge. It's a test of balance and possibly... a little bit of strength.
"5 members of each tribe will be on their side of the log. When I say go, the teams will try to knock people from the other team off the log by any means necessary. Last team standing wins immunity. I won't give you ideas, you're very resourceful people. Hahaga, who will sit out?"
"I will," Edward whispered. This obviously wasn't the challenge for him.
"Okay, let's get to it. Tribes, out to sea!"
After a sort of sigh, clothes began to be stripped and the great migration began. On the orange part of the log, everybody was down to shorts of one type or another. The green side was down to something slightly less, but that was due to what they came in with. Edward watched from the beach, hoping that the tired Hahaga could pull it out.
"Tribes, on the log!"
There wasn't too much trouble; the log was tied to each dock to make sure no member would be bucked off prematurely.
"Survivors ready?"
"Yeah..."
"Cut the ropes!"
The lurches from the rope alone were enough to send Sam flying into the drink. Inaga winced. That couldn't be good.
Jack was in the front for Hahaga. Excellent reflexes and sea legs helped Jack triumph in move towards the unbalanced Axel.
"'Ello, darling," Jack grinned toothily. Axel adopted a deer-in-the-headlights look as Inaga and Hahaga got similar ideas to start spinning the log. Axel and Jack were next to take a dive.
"Can we stop this thing?" Donnie whispered to Ichabod.
"Too much force. Hahaga would have to slow down too. It's going to keep going unless something can stop it."
"That means we can't go and try to wrestle them off either."
"Unless you've got great coordination, I wouldn't recommend it," Ichabod admitted. Donnie sighed and continued his running. Bon-bon didn't seem to have the same endurance of most Johnnies and began to slow. The Laws of Physics wouldn't be defied that easily and Bon-bon slipped off next. Both tribes were now even, 3 and 3.
"Spencer, can you kind of land hard when you run? To shake the log up?" Donnie turned to Spencer on the end.
"Sure, General Brasco," Spencer panted. Soon enough, the log began to shake up and down with Spencer's and Donnie's combined jumping actions. Ichy got the idea quickly, but just wasn't coordinated enough. He went spiraling into the salt water too.
Mort was also on the outside and just never felt the rippled until he missed a step and tripped. Sands and Duke tried to continue the rolling motion—they'd established a rhythm—but it wasn't meant to be. Spencer and Donnie had changed the game and Sands cigarettes didn't help the matter. He gave up and pencil-dived neatly into the sea.
"Hey! You can't give up now!" Duke cried.
"I did." Sands spit out a mouthful of the nasty water. Donnie and Spencer shared a last evil look and jumped. Duke flew into the water and that was the end of Hahaga.
"Well done Inaga! Inaga wins immunity!"
Final Note: Well, this is the longest chapter I've ever written. Ever. I hope you limed it. To commemorate, I've made a little glossary of Angels for reference. I plan on copying and pasting it in the last chapter too, for easy access. For now though, I'll make mention to the list being in this chapter, savvy? The short of it:
The Caribbean Crusader (CC)- Captain Jack Sparrow's Angel
The Symbolic Sacrifice (SS)- Raphael's Angel
Dangerbabe (DB)- Johnny's Bosley, Ops Angel, Caretaker of the Unangeled, Psnoo's sidekick/former mentor
Secret Pseudonym (Psnoo)- Mort Rainey's (and Shooter's) Angel, DB's mentor/former sidekick
AJohnnyBabe (AJB)- Angel in Waiting for Willy Wonka
The Rolling Rooster (Roo)- Axel Blackmar's (Fish Boy) Angel, Lynx's mentor
The Extraterrestrial Terror (ET)- Spencer Armacost's (Alien) Angel
The Ingenious Inspectorette (Iggy)- Fred Abberline's (Inspector) Angel
The Fearless Fiend (FF)- Raoul Duke's Angel
CIA Agente Arenas (Arenas)- Agent Sands' (SJ, Jeffrey, Sheldon, etc.) Angel
Lynx- Roo's sidekick
