Hello all! Just in case you missed it, this is the second chapter posted today. Chapter 11 picks up the story where I left it off, oh, four years ago? Oops. Anyway, Chapter 11 is the Official Ending to Total Drama Wally and what we have here is a classic Total Drama alternate ending. Please enjoy!
Everything was a blur, right up until the end.
Tyler had the prize. He didn't know how. There'd been a scrimmage near the cabins, a mob of pointy elbows and soft midsections as they all fought for control of the precious. One second his hands had been empty, and the next they'd reached out and plucked that beautiful silver case from the air. And then he was running.
And everyone else was running behind him.
But Tyler was fast and, desperate as he was, he was surprisingly stable. He made good time for the docks.
Wally was hampered by the crowd, but managed to break free with enough time to catch up. At this point he wasn't even thinking about being careful or about his speed, he just wanted to win. He ripped the case from Tyler's grip and kept going for the end.
And then he was there, just a few steps away from the end of the dock, holding the million dollar briefcase. For a split-second he knew he'd won.
And then more than half the cast tackled him from behind, off the end of the pier and sixteen teenagers of all kinds crashed down into the water below.
For a smattering of seconds, the remaining contestants waited on the dock with baited breath as one by one those in the water began to surface and…
…the case was lost.
Once the chaos had subsided, once the teens had surfaced and breathed in heavy gulps of oxygen and their pulses stopped racing long enough for them to think, that was the only real thought available to them.
The prize was gone. Tossed into the water and eaten by a shark for good measure.
It was over. They'd lost. Chris was the only true victor of the island.
"Congratulations to the lot of you!" He went on. "In order to finally decide on our winner, you'll all be competing in Season 2!"
What?!
"What?!" Twenty-two voices echoed in unison. Sixteen in the water and six more on the dock. Season 2?
"That's right," Chris went on, an intern handing him a stack of papers for his perusal. "I believe that if you'll all check your contracts, you'll see... 'in the event of a tie, a tiebreaker must be completed in order to decide the winner, the tiebreaker being decided by the producers of 'Total Drama''. Our producers have decided to go big or go home and have just announced a whole new season! Isn't that wonderful?"
On the docks, those who had not made the cut for the second season were conflicted. On the one hand, they'd lost the money. On the other hand... they were done. No more Chris, no more Chef and no more Drama.
In the water, those who had made the cut were decidedly less conflicted.
They might be persuaded to compete in one last challenge, but an entire season?
"NOOOOO!"
The echoing wail reached the mainland.
Beth, Bridgette, Cody, Courtney, DJ, Duncan, Geoff, Gwen, Heather, Izzy, Justin, Leshawna, Lindsay, Owen, Trent, Wally. Sixteen teens who had suffered under the hands of Chris McLean for far too long.
Sixteen teens who were bound by contract to allow Chris to bully, torture and demean them for a whole 'nother season. Some, like Owen, were thrilled at the prospect. A whole new season to hang around with his friends? Awesome! Others, like Beth, saw a chance to do better and perhaps even win.
But to the others...?
Wally had just one thing to say on the matter.
"No way," he crossed his arms and set his jaw, the fact that he was still dripping wet from his dip in the lake doing nothing for his appearance. "This is where I draw the line. I am done, you hear me? I! AM! DONE!"
"I think I must be hearing you wrong, there, Wall-man," Chris shrugged, whipping out the relevant contract. "You're signed on the dotted line, buddy. You can't quit. The producers would sue you for all you're worth and then make you do it anyway."
Wally grabbed the stack of papers and threw them into the water.
"I was not talking to you," Wally hissed, eyes narrowed with conviction.
"Walls, man," Geoff tried to intervene. Ever the peacemaker. "Calm down. Take a deep breath, okay?"
Wally ignored him.
"Dick Bastard Grayson!" He yelled to the skies. "Bruce Wayne's ward! That's the guy who sent in the video and forged my signature!"
"..." Chris blinked, along with the entire cast. Bruce Wayne's kid? That's who he was going with? "Okay... might want to check the water there. Maybe those environmental nutjobs were right about 'dangerous chemicals' and whatnot."
"I met him at a national science fair a few years back and we kept in contact through e-mails," Wally elaborated, his voice strong and clear with determination. "He sent in the video and forged my signature as a joke, but when I got accepted Mr. Wayne offered to pay me to keep my mouth shut to keep his son out of the story. Well screw that! You crossed the line, McLean, and now I am going home!"
It was a good lie, not easily supported without Bruce or Dick themselves admitting it but equally difficult to disprove. It filled in a few blanks and was just plausible enough to be true. Wally had been working on it all season.
Bruce might try to kill him, but first he'd have to get him off the island.
Dick Grayson had done a lot in his young life. He'd performed with an internationally recognised acrobat troupe by the time he was six, been orphaned by the time he was seven, gone through training that most adults would balk at at eight and begun a life of vigilante heroics at nine. In that time, he had learned considerable skills and put them to good use and not so good misuse.
In all that, he'd never regretted a single thing. Until the video.
Ever since they'd met, he and Wally had had something of a friendly rivalry in the art of pranks. As far as they were concerned, everything was fair game and nothing was sacred.
Dick would hack school records in order to have the school administration announce the most embarrassing medical maladies on Wally's behalf. Wally would speed through a Wayne level social event and speed-change Dick into a dress before his entrance or put tacks on his chair as he sat. They both had their strengths.
When he'd edited the video, it was just meant to be the latest in a long line of pranks. He never thought Wally would be chosen. He'd just wanted to get the video on the Total Drama webpage in front of an international audience so that as many people as possible would see it. After all, it included such wondrous scenes as Wally singing in the shower, introducing himself as 'the Wall-man' before walking into a lamppost and being punched in the face by Artemis in a plain-clothes spar.
Simple stuff. Altogether boring stuff, really, in the grand scheme of things. Wally was meant to grumble and sputter and then reluctantly admit that Dick had got him before going off to work on his revenge.
Instead Wally got shanghaied for Total Drama. Honestly, Dick hadn't thought that would be possible. Why would they want Wally?
When all was said and done though, Dick couldn't 'fess up. He'd wanted to, but he couldn't. Bruce's orders. Everyone 'in the know' knew, but the rest of the world was left to believe that Wally was a liar.
Artemis had been trying to kill him ever since and, now that TDI was at its end, Wally was about to join her.
On the one hand, Dick couldn't wait for Wally to get back. On the other, yeah, Wally was going to kill him. Especially after Bruce talked to him.
Wally was going to kill someone. Maybe Dick. Maybe Bruce. Probably Chris.
They were given a week to sort out their affairs before reporting back in for Season 2, largely to give the producers time to actually plan out the show.
Wally had been forced to catch a flight back to Central, where his parents were waiting with the car, and where Bruce was waiting back at their home.
"You had Dick's name censored."
It wasn't a question and Bruce didn't deny it. Wally hadn't even seen the official airing of the final episode of TDI but he knew Bruce's modus operandi. Protecting the identity of himself and his ward took priority over anything less than life-threatening. Pain and humiliation was a small price to pay if it meant their continued safety. Wally would feel better if it were their pain and humiliation that was the price rather than his.
"It was foolish of you to say it."
"Well I'm twice the fool it takes to do it," Wally sighed. In truth he'd regretted the outburst once his temper had cooled. It hadn't been the smart thing to do. "You're going to make me keep on like nothing happened, aren't you?"
"That would be in everyone's best interest, yes."
Wally rolled his eyes, but didn't argue.
Bruce dropped the bombshell.
"Your identity is compromised."
Wally's heart skipped a beat.
"Nothing's been confirmed," Bruce elaborated. "But the fans and the theorists are working hard and they've noticed the similarities. Your metabolism and fitness, not to mention your uncanny resemblance to Kid Flash, as well as your absence. So far no one has approached your family, but Artemis has been receiving uncomfortable questions from her classmates."
Wally winced. Artemis's cover had always been translucent at best. Both of her parents' identities weren't exactly public knowledge, but the information was available for anyone who cared to look. Her hair was memorable, particularly when combined with her skin tone and she used her real name in the field. Thus far the only thing that had kept her safe was the fact that Artemis only operated publicly in Star City and the public at large were unaware of the League's access to teleportation technology.
But if people starting linking her to a kid who may or may not be Kid Flash, that was destined to screw things over. Another link to Gotham, and to someone who had been suspected of being Robin at least once over the years, and that would be four identities out the window all at once. Maybe five if the public picked up on Uncle Barry as well.
Five lives ruined forever. No, wait, make that eight... nine? Ten. Ten lives. Have to count the families as well. His parents. Aunt Iris. Mrs. Crock. And Alfred, of course. They'd all have to be relocated if they ever wanted to live normal lives.
"So, what's the plan?" He sighed.
"Flash has been spreading the story that you broke your leg during battle," Bruce explained. "The Trickster has taken credit for the deed on the condition that you play darts with him once healed. The story is that it happened two weeks after 'Total Drama' began. Dick has since been forging your signature in order to reply to your fan-mail."
"Dick's answering fan-mail?" Wally perked up somewhat at that. The Flash's were proud to claim that they were the only superheroes to consistently respond to all of their fans. They were the only ones who could make the time.
"It's phase one of his punishment."
"Heh," Wally smiled. His recent experiences in having his pain exploited for the amusement of others had done nothing to lessen his sense of schadenfreude. "What's phase two?"
"He's been sparring regularly with Artemis."
"Ooh," Wally winced. Maybe that was a little too far? Artemis's style had always been a lot more brutal than the others... Nah. "But there's no way to get out of the game?"
"The contract is surprisingly airtight," Bruce admitted. "In the case of a tie, the producers have free reign to decide on a winner. A second season is extreme, but it's very much within their limits."
"And there's nothing to stop them pulling the same stunt at the end of this season?" Wally asked. "What's to stop them from keeping us trapped on their show for the rest of our lives?"
"The clause was only enabled in the case of a tie," Bruce explained. "So long as there is a clear winner this season, they won't be able to do it again. Once a winner is decided, your contracts are completed."
"So I'm definitely going back," Wally sighed. "I wonder if I could just forfeit in the first round. Sit out the season back at the resort?"
Bruce didn't answer. It wasn't his place to say.
"On the other hand..." Wally grimaced. "A million bucks could go a long way. College ain't cheap."
"Hmm," Bruce agreed. "Which is why all members of the Team will be offered a scholarship to the school of their choice once they graduate high school."
"What, seriously?" Wally was stunned. That was... exceedingly generous. No, exceedingly personal for the Batman. "When did that come in?"
"A few months ago," Bruce admitted. "Oliver and I agreed to split the costs and hide it in the public donations to the Justice League."
"Wow," Wally blinked. "So, if I won the million then... I could use it however I want?"
Bruce watched Wally curiously as he debated with himself. As a child born to wealth, Bruce had always been privy to fortune. A million dollars was a little extra spending money for him, perhaps to be put towards a new investment or research. For Wally it was life-changing. And possibly worth a season of pain and humiliation to acquire.
It was an interesting disparity.
"I don't know," Wally eventually decided. "I guess I'll play it by ear again. See how the first few challenges go... if McLean's his same old self I'll get myself booted and let someone else go for the gold."
Artemis was the next visitor, at which point she and Wally quickly got to work making up for lost time.
"So, you're going back?" Artemis asked.
"Don't exactly have a whole lotta choice," he admitted. He frowned suddenly, quizzical. "Did you do something with your hair?"
Artemis rolled her eyes. "I've been getting my roots dyed black to make it look like the colour's growing out. 'Artemis the Archer' can be a natural blonde, but Artemis the schoolgirl just can't anymore."
Wally winced. "Sorry."
She shrugged. "Not your fault."
"Kind of is, actually," he sighed.
"Yeah, well, I wasn't going to say anything..."
Wally brushed at his brow. "This show is going to be the death of me."
"Hey, it can't be that bad," she tried to console him, but he cut her off with a look.
"Honestly? It's probably worse," he told her bluntly. "Chris has a way of wearing away at your soul."
"At least you've got some friends going with you," she reminded him, to which Wally smiled softly.
"I guess."
"Not too friendly though," she added with a pointed look. "Right?"
Wally rolled his eyes. "Izzy's good, but you could take her any day of the week."
"Damn right I could."
"But, uh, just to be safe, you might want to check your locks tonight."
"Heh," she smirked. "I'll leave a sign at the door. Invite her in for coffee."
"The window," Wally corrected. "Maybe the chimney if you had one. She'd never be so predictable with the door."
The week passed like a blur, and before Wally knew it he was being taken back to Canada, to a disused film lot in Ontario. Disused since 1986 by the look of it.
Standing at the gates with fifteen other campers, idly glancing at the dirt and the litter and the general feel of decay, Wally could only say one thing.
"At least it's not the island."
There was a murmur of agreement as everyone dumped their duffel bags. Each of them certain that nothing could be worse than the island that had been their home for the first season.
Wally glanced down at himself and sighed. For the last week he'd enjoyed the simple pleasure of wearing whatever the hell he'd wanted. Now he was stuck with a limited wardrobe again.
"Couldn't we at least have gotten a change of clothes?"
"No we couldn't, Wall-man," Chris came along driving a tour-cart. "The viewers like some consistency. We've lost part of the cast, the island and a few other things, so we've gotta at least make sure that the nice people at home can recognise you folks."
"They can't deal with a wardrobe change?" Heather quirked a brow, arms folded and hips cocked. "I chose this outfit when I thought we were going to a tropical island. Abandoned film lot in northern Ontario requires a little more coverage, please."
"Shoulda thought of that before putting on the too tight two-piece," Leshawna poked her hard in the shoulder. Heather scowled, but restrained herself from commenting.
"Shut up and get on the cart," Chris ordered irritably. "We've gotta get this ball rolling if we wanna get to the fun part, capiche?"
"We don't wanna get to the fun part," fifteen campers echoed back to him. Izzy had already taken a seat.
Chris smiled.
Wally rolled his eyes. Swinging his duffle bag in before him, he took the seat next to Izzy and waited for the rest to grumble their away aboard.
"Welcome to the newly rented Total Drama Studio," he announced as he started the cart. "I'm sure you all just can't wait to get started on the challenges, and we'll get to that in a few minutes. First, we'll give you a quick tour of the place that will be your home for the next forty-two days. Unless, that is, you get voted off."
Much of the contestants sat back and let their minds wander as Chris went through the motions of the tour, introducing them to a variety of sets that would be the basis for upcoming challenges, as well as the craft-services tent which would be where Chef would be making his base.
As far as Wally was concerned, there were really only one major improvement over the last season.
Confessional
"The confessional this time around is much nicer," Wally admitted, looking around the make-up trailer that seemed to also serve as a dumping ground for various props. "I mean, it doesn't smell great, but it doesn't smell like an outhouse, either. I might have to use this thing more often this season."
"Now then," Chris announced grandly. They were back at the main gate, the cart and their luggage having been sent on ahead of them. "Since you've all stopped listening to my awesome touring, I think it's time we spice things up with our first challenge of the new season. What do you say?"
"I say eat a brick, McLean," Gwen groused.
"What an interesting idea," Chris mused. "Might have to try and work that into a challenge at some point."
"Anywho," he went on. "First challenge, we're going to spice things up a bit. For one thing, no teams! This first challenge is a complete free-for-all! Doesn't that sound fun?"
A large majority of the teens shrugged. Between friendships and relationships formed over the course of the last season, there was only really Heather left who wouldn't be going into the game with a readymade alliance. A free-for-all just meant you could pick and choose your allies.
"Humph," Chris pouted, before brightening. "Well, if that doesn't get your attention, let me just remind you that the reward for today's challenge cannot be shared, so keep that in mind."
"The challenge will be a race to the other side of the film lot, just to get you all back into the groove of things" Chris explained. "You will find the trailers that will serve as your living quarters for the season. There will be one for the boys and one for the girls, and whoever gets there first gets first dibs. So make sure you hustle your butts!"
"A race?" Cody asked nervously, glancing around at some of his more athletically minded peers.
"A race?" Gwen asked, suspicions rising. No way would it be that straightforward.
"Well," Chris shrugged bashfully. "There is one thing I forgot to mention."
In the distance, the great bellowing roar of a creature the size of a skyscraper echoed out. Sixteen teenagers flinched involuntarily.
Sixteen voices spoke simultaneously. "What is that?!"
"You have to get past the giant monster. Neat old thing, really. They used it for the giant monster films before everything got all computer generated. The wiring's not so great these days, so it has a tendency to rampage. Part of the reason why the lot was available. Now go!"
Like bats out of hell, the contestants started forwards in a chaotic mob. As one, they ran through the gates and into the studio proper.
Leading the charge were Wally, Izzy and Courtney, with Owen bringing up the rear. But that all changed when they rounded the first corner and came face to face with the opposition.
Green, scaled, vaguely Godzilla-esque and big enough to crush them underfoot without even noticing. All that and a killer smile of razor sharp teeth.
"Holy mother of pearl!" Owen screamed, immediately turning around and running in the opposite direction as the rest of the mob began to scatter. Each of them ducking for cover as the monster reached down with a single arm and plucked Duncan from the ground.
"What the hell is that thing?" Heather hissed, barely being heard over Duncan's cursing.
"Probably a Mark IV Goliath prototype," Wally told her without even glancing in her direction, still staring back after the monster as it walked off with Duncan still cursing up a storm in its grip. "It's LuthorTech. Designed for military use, but they could never find a way to make the stupid things worth the metal they're made of, so Luthor wound up selling them to the private sector. A few supervillains went rampaging in them and now they're all sitting in scrap heaps, collecting dust as collectables, or working in the entertainment biz."
"... oh."
Wally looked at her in surprise, only just registering who it was he was talking too. When he'd ran for the nearest wall on the Cityscape Set, he'd figured it'd been Izzy who'd been following him. Looking around in confusion, he saw that the rest of the contestants had all ran off in different directions, leaving him on his own but for Heather.
"What are you doing here?"
"Hiding! What does it look like?!"
"You're following me!"
"I am not."
"Why would you follow me?!"
"I am not!" She repeated vehemently.
"Fine," Wally turned away. "Then I'm going this way." He began to move as dictated, only to stop when he noticed that the monster was returning.
"Maybe I'm going that way," he corrected himself, turning around immediately only to collide with Heather, sending the two of them tumbling to the ground.
Before they knew it, the monster had reached down with one green and scaly arm to pluck them from the safety of the ground, drawing them skywards. Since they were held in a single fist, this also forced them much closer than they would have liked.
"This is all your fault," Wally insisted bluntly. "I wish today was an elimination round."
"Shut up."
Thankfully the trip only lasted a few lumbering steps before the monster released them, choosing not to first lower them to the ground. Instead they dropped at least two stories before landing in a bouncy castle and immediately being flung back into the air.
"Hah," Duncan chuckled when he saw the monster's latest victims. "Losers."
And there we have the first alternate ending. For a good long while this was going to be the continuation of the story but I could never muster up the interest to just keep rewriting Total Drama Action and, at the time, I unfortunately wasn't imaginative enough or confident enough to really strike out and write something original enough to keep my interest.