With my return to college only being a week away, this chapter may be thought to be the last chapter for a while. Actually, whether I'm in college or on holidays I will always be inconsistent with updating this fic, so next week wouldn't make much of a difference. In fact, why am I trying to predict the future? I don't' even know what's going to happen tomorrow, though I do plan to sit on my arse all day in my PJs tomorrow. Anyway, here's the next chapter; I hope you enjoy it.

My Big Fat Creepy Roommate

Welcome to Hell

Chef entered the derelict mansion and slammed the door shut behind him. The full force of the slam caused the building to shake for a few seconds. Naturally, Chef was unfazed by the mini-earthquake he created and kicked open the door to the basement. The door fell off its hinges and it fell down the stairs. Again, Chef was unfazed by what he did, but Justin certainly was freaked out.

Chef marched down the creaky, wobbly stairs to the basement that appeared to be darker than the rest of the mansion (which was dark enough, even in broad daylight). Chef carried Justin to a particular room in the basement and fired the model onto the mattress. Justin looked around the room. There were no windows… or maybe there were, but they've been blocked up. There were pipes covering the ceiling, as if the ceiling was low enough, which should explain why Chef had to bend. There were nails sticking up from the floor. The walls had pieces of stone sticking out, making the corners of the room almost inaccessible. In fact, the walls looked like babies and pets were buried alive into them (and considering the circumstances of this fic, this was probably the case).

The big, black scary furnace dominated the room. It looked very sinister. It looked like it wanted Justin and Chef out of its territory. Or it looked like it was helping Chef do terrible things to the helpless model. It also looked like it wanted to eat Justin. Either way, Justin was not prepared for what was coming to him.

Justin tried to sit up, but Chef pounced on him and pinned the model down.

"Wha-wha-what are you going to do to me?" Justin gasped.

Chef smirked. "Whatever I want," he bragged. He let out a sinister laugh. It started off as a sinister chuckle. Five minutes later, it grew into a sinister chortle. Five minutes later, it grew into an ordinary laugh, only sinister. Five minutes later, it grew into a slightly overkill laugh. Another five minutes later, it grew into a full out psychopathic cackle, similar to the laughter of a mental patient.

Justin gave the cook concerned looks. "Uh… okay, that was just borderline disturbing," he stated, "even for you."

"I'M NOT CRAZY!" Chef shouted.

"Then how do you explain the situation I'm in at the moment?" Justin demanded.

"U-u-u-u-u-u-u-u-uh… fuck your father!" he shouted.

"Then why don't you take him instead of me?" Justin suggested.

"Sacrificing your own father?!" Chef's jaw dropped. "What kind of son are ya?!"

"A son who's been disowned by his own family, duh!" Justin shrugged. "Why else have I moved into Total Drama Towers? Besides, I'm sure you were no better as a son to your own father as I was," he added.

"You know nothing, shithead!" Chef scowled. Suddenly, there was a cough. Chef and Justin looked over at a corner of the room where an old man was chained to one of the support beams. He looked up and noticed Chef.

"S-s-s-son?" he gasped. He noticed that the guy in the baker's hat was Chef. The old man freaked out and cowered his head under his arms.

"Don't hurt me!" the fellow yelped.

"SHUDDUP OLD MAN, OR I'LL PUT CHA OUTTA YER MISERY!" Chef bellowed. Chef and Justin couldn't see it, but the old man, who happened to be Chef's father, sobbed quietly.

"What did you do to him?!" an appalled Justin gasped.

Chef glared at Justin. "NONE O'YA DAMN BUSINESS, THAT'S WHAT!" he shouted. "Besides, he was a homophobe, so he deserved it," he added after calming down.

"I'm sorry!" the old man sobbed.

"I TOLD CHA TO SHUDDUP!" Chef roared at him. Justin rolled his eyes. He could see why Chef would be pissed off with his father, but this was just too far.

"Oh Trent, I'm so sorry for fighting with ya!" Owen sobbed. He and Trent were hugging each other. They were still in the skip.

"And I'm sorry for disapproving of your relationship with Justin!" Trent sobbed. "All you two had to do was add extra letters to both of your names so that both of your names could have nine letters in them each!"

"Friends again?!" Owen asked.

"Friends!" Trent replied. The two continued to hug. Then Owen let out a torrent of nine farts (that lasted nine seconds each). The farts reached the driver of the truck, causing him to faint. Naturally, this caused the truck to swerve and crash into a random ditch. The crash did happen in the countryside, but it was still not devoid of any fatalities. The driver died on impact, and three drunken farmers happened to be having a threesome on that ditch, so yeah…

So it's official. Trent and Owen are no longer fighting. Chef is a dangerous psychopath who is a dangerous psychopath because he had a deprived childhood (still doesn't excuse the fact that he's a dangerous psychopath). And Justin is pretty much screwed.

This is now the 16th chapter, with over 24,000 words, 3,000 hits and 55 reviews. That's awesome. You guys are awesome. Anyway, as I've said roughly a million times already, I'll still be updating this story during college, but you'd be lucky to get an update at least once a month for this fic. That still doesn't make much of a difference though, considering how much I've done for this fic over the summer… which was four months long. At least I was working on at least nine other fics. Heh! Nine! I should probably sign off before nine-obsessed Trent starts to rub off on me.

Until next time!