I find it amusing that this fic has been so well-received when it's more satire of SYOC fics than an actual one. That being said, I'm glad everyone's enjoying and that no one's been too pissed about my interpretations of their characters.

I dedicate this chapter in the memory of Robin Williams, who died earlier this week. Rest in peace. :)

Midnight was in full Sherlock Holmes mode. He had no idea who'd made him think he was a Pikachu, but he wasn't going to rest until he found whoever had done it, and make him think that he was a Magikarp for the rest of his life. Mwa ha ha.

"Hmn, let's see here. Why the hell did I act like that...something's up here. Something fishy. Not a Magikarp. I need to figure out what."

Meanwhile, James, Michael, and Peter were having a conversation.

"So I have this awesome idea in case we ever get out of here," James said, looking excited.

"We're listening," Michael yawned.

"So instead of everyone on Total Drama getting eliminated and having to take the whatchamathing of Shame, instead..." James grinned. "They're executed."

"Already been done," Sunflower popped her head into the conversation. "Worst. Fic. Eva. It had no Yaoi. The author Daggerz was more concerned with an actually engaging plot and character interactions than yaoi. Like, ew."

"Yeah, cause that's the worst thing about a fic," Peter deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

"You're reminding me of one of my former abductees, and that's not a good thing."

"Whatever."

Meanwhile, Leanne was once again making fun of Belinda.

"I honestly have no idea how you can consider yourself a human being. You're just...weird."

Belinda's eye twitched.

"I mean, seriously? It's almost like it's impossible for you to have anything that's not artificial. Faaaaake."

Her eye twitched again.

"I preferred Zeke to you. And that's saying something."

Steam appeared to be rising from Belinda's ears.

"Hey guys!" Matthew chirped. "I found this shotgun lying around incredibly conveniently, so-" Belinda proceeded to grab the shotgun from him and cock it threateningly at Leanne.

"Okay, I have HAD it! Someone, ANYONE who makes any comment about my HEIGHT, my FIGURE, or my HAIR, or ANYTHING IS GONNA GET A SHOTGUN TO THE FACE!"

Everyone was now looking at the midget, who sincerely looked ready to kill another person right then and there. There was silence for a few seconds before Peter spoke up.

"Can I borrow that shotgun?"

Janet meanwhile was quietly just touching her hand to her forehead. Aurora was humming quietly to herself. Everyone just still stood, poised and at attention, while Belinda breathed heavily. Belinda lowered the shotgun and smiled brightly. "Glad we got that settled."

"I like your style," Aurora chirped brightly.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Peter coughed. "No, seriously. Can I borrow that shotgun?"

"We all should just be able to get along," Matthew said, spreading his hands out and trying to ease the situation a bit. "Belinda, just put the weapon down please."

Belinda proceeded to cock the shotgun. Matthew backed up. James was behind Belinda, and with a puzzled look on his face twirled a finger around his head.

"I think she's a little bit off her rocker," Sunflower whispered to Leanne, who just gave a deadpan stare at her in response.

Matthew sighed, and attempted to step a bit closer to Belinda. "We're not going to make any more comments, okay? We're all friends here, and we need to work-"

Bam.

Belinda fired the shotgun, and smoke shot out of it, causing everyone to cough. When the smoke cleared there was blood on the ground but Matthew appeared to be gone.

"He must have discombobulated!" Leanne said mock-stupidly, while Michael let out an extremely girly and high-pitched scream.

"ARE WE SURE THAT BELINDA HASN'T BEEN POSSESSED BY A DEMON?" Michael shrieked in terror.

"NO!" was everyone else's response.

Midnight had been paying absolutely no attention, instead leaning against the ground with his ear to the dirt. He rubbed the texture, and from an outsider's perspective it appeared as though he were cuddling with an invisible person.

"Ah ha. This texture isn't right. Just like Inception, bitch."

He grinned and rubbed the dirt beside him to see that there was a figure curled up next to him. He let out a scream as the person turned. It was LEL, a demonic grin stretched across his face, or maybe just his usual :L face. Really, no one could tell the difference, and no one wanted to.

"Weren't you drowned?" Midnight asked confusedly.

"LELELEL. Teh ocean is my wife, bitch. Her name is Colonel Fwoofaleyfwoops or something or other. :L you."

"Wait...what? I'm so confused right now-"

LEL snapped his fingers and Midnight proceeded to not live. And promptly disintegrated.

Okay, wait, wait, WHAT? Okay, something's up here and I have to find out what! LEL...WHAT ARE YOU?

And so two more had bit the dust, or had become the dust. Which I suppose would make them dust cannibals, or just have a really weird fetish. It honestly wouldn't surprise me either way. Of course, that doesn't make any logical sense. What logical sense does this whole charade make anyway? So why is this suddenly so important to make sense?

Moving on.

Meanwhile, the eight remaining contestants had been too far away from Midnight to actually realize that he was dead, and his body had disintegrated anyway so it was extremely unlikely anyone would make the connection, considering they were still trying to calm down Belinda so she didn't shoot anyone else who was just trying to help.

"Okaaaaay," Michael said to Belinda, holding his hands out. "I have a great idea. Let's all put our guns down and not shoot anyone else who's just trying to help us."

"Stop talking to me like that," Belinda snapped. "I'm not a baby."

Leanne opened her mouth to make a comment, probably about her height, but Peter clamped his hand over her mouth, scowling at her. Leanne got the message.

"Nobody is talking to you like anything!" James said in the same tone of voice as Michael. "We're all just talking to you with a normal tone of voice, what are you talking about?"

"I'm not crazy," Belinda snapped.

"Suuuuure you aren't," Michael said, still sounding like he was either trying to calm her down or piss her off. Either one, really.

"Why are we all talking like thiiiiis?" Sunflower randomly popped her head into the conversation. "Is that like a thiiiiing? Do I have to talk like I'm talking to a kiiiid? Aaaaall the tiiiime? Whyyyyy?"

"Shut up, Leslie," Leanne yawned, still sounding incredibly bored. Leslie in question was ready to cut open her throat for calling her that name, but then realized that there was no reason for her to refer to herself as Sunflower anymore when there were far more heinous crimes going on as opposed to kidnapping and...forced...sexytime? I don't even think any lawmaker would even think of that, making it not a criminal offense. Whatever. The kidnapping was still offensive.

So from then on Sunflower would gladly refer to herself as Leslie. Yay.

Belinda backed up, but did not notice the figure approaching behind her. Janet slammed a coconut into the back of her head, causing her to collapse to the ground. Janet turned the coconut to look at it and found that it appeared to have a red smile painted across its face.

"Wait, isn't that-" Leslie began before Janet tossed it aside with a shrug. It vanished.

Peter ran in and grabbed the shotgun. "YES!"

"Alright, here's to hoping that she feels better when she gets up!" Janet called, and the others murmured in assent.

"Aurora, you've been pretty quiet," James noted. "What's the matter? Not that I care."

"I sense a disturbance in the force."

"Ah, that was probably me. Beans for lunch and all."

"What? Ew! No, that's not what I was talking about!"

Peter laughed. "Okay, that was priceless."

Michael proceeded to do a countoff, just to see how many people they had left. Leslie had wandered over to the trees and had hissed at anyone who tried to come her way. He dreaded to know what she was doing over there. James and Peter were trolling Aurora, freaking her out by being intentionally obnoxious and disgusting. Leanne was watching in barely contained amusement. Janet seemed to be exercising or something. And Belinda lied face down on the ground, probably contemplating the origins of life and the mysteries of the universe.

Or, you know, she was unconscious. Either one, really.

Eight tributes, I mean contestants remaining. Michael scratched his chin. They were missing one person...he needed to figure out who. Midnight! Midnight was missing! Michael started to look, and didn't see anything at all. Nope, nope, nada.

Oh well. Whatever.

Adrian had his eyes closed. The interns felt more comfortable that way as opposed to when his eyes were open. Plus, he was meditating.

"I'm sensing that...the one that went insane and thought he was a Pokemon...is dead. The wannabe Ezekiel...is dead. The superhero...is dead, strange, that generally doesn't happen, wouldn't be surprised if he got resurrected by some contrived plot point. And...um...I'm blanking on the last one, I have no idea who that is, but they're definitely dead. Four dead out of eight, my friends. We're one third through."

"How do you know that they're dead, though?" the female intern with braces asked. "You didn't thsee them die."

"I'm a demon. I know these kinds of things. Their presences are no longer felt on this island, therefore, yes, they are dead."

"How can we be sure?" the chubby intern asked, scratching his chin.

"I'M SURE, OKAY?" Adrian yelled, losing his cool for once. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you. Find the remaining eight. Kill them by any means necessary. Kill them, and Chris will be avenged."

"Christh? Why would we want to avenge Christh?" the braces intern asked, and Adrian rolled his eyes.

"Sorry, slip of the tongue. You're finishing the deal, and then you can live out the rest of your lives. I daresay you could make some sundaes for the remaining campers for their misdeeds in All Stars. Some just desserts."

The interns just stared at him. "That was a pun...just...desserts? Ha ha, get it? ...whatever...stop staring at me...it makes me feel uncomfortable."

"You're a demon," was the chubby intern's response.

"Another brilliant observation from the 'narrating the obvious' department," Adrian snarked. "I apologize if I'm snappy. Just go. Kill them."

"Yes sir!" The interns said at once, and proceeded to gather all of Chef's inventory.

Adrian proceeded to get a call on his phone. "Hello?"

"Yeeeees. This is ScrowmeghMeha. I am a shapeshifting alien from outer space and I need your assistance."

"Uh huh."

"You see, I am having some difficulties with my hovercraft. It appears to have stopped working, I'm thinking it has something to do with the smell of apple juice, and I was hoping that you could help."

Adrian just looked confused at this. "Wrong number, dipshit."

"...oh." The caller hung up and Adrian just looked confused.

"Weeeeeeiiiiirrrrrrddddd."

Jairo was frolicking in the woods. It was fun.

This chapter includes INCREDIBLY subtle references to Knifez's Despair Island and Anatee Takaramono's Space Duncan. If you like this kind of story, you'll like Space Duncan. And if you like serious stuff, I definitely recommend Despair Island. Both are awesome fics in their own ways. Thanks for reading!