"This cosmic dance of bursting decadence and withheld permissions twists all our arms collectively, but if sweetness can win, and it can, then I'll still be here tomorrow to high-five you yesterday, my friend." -Royal Tart Toter
TOTAL DRAMA NIRVANA
EPISODE 0:
"PROLOGUE"
In a gorgeous locale unknown in the multiverse...
A camera swoops in from the trees above, picking up the insistent chirps of local birds or the pleasant stream of running water that derived from the gorgeous waterfall nearby. Once past the cloak of the naturally pink leaves, a bunker atop a hill atop a mountain, atop a waterfall was revealed. Even amongst the overgrown grass and wonderous sunshine, it was still quite out of place in a place like this.
Through the glass window left ajar, the camera continues its trek as it enters the reinforced steel bunker, a room that offered quite an eyeful. The room was reminiscent of a military planning room, organized was its structure, and metallic gray was its complexion. Scattered about were painted portraits, televisions mounted onto walls, and golden statues that decorated plain wooden shelves. Numerous of them among other odd things. Most notably, a framed picture of a suave ginger man with 'Connor O'Gleeson' crudely written over the frame glass in blood-red marker.
Sat at this steel desk with an accompanying rolling chair was a chiseled surfer dude dressed in a solid blue top, green pants, and blank white sneakers. His smile was as slick as his raven hair. The darned sweet mug of his may be recognized as the most tortuous host in the history of reality television.
"Yo!" The man exclaimed with a taken aback yet eccentric tone, noticing the ever-vigilant eye of the camera lens met with his and dropping the piece of paper previously in his hands. "We're coming at you live from an alternate universe Muskoka, Canada, or as I like to call it, New Wawawanka!"
"I'm your host, Chris McLean!" The host hollered, set to a faux audience cheer and clap that rang from the indoor loudspeakers, vibrant as ever. "Back for yet another revival of television's hottest series buuuuuut with one pretty gnarly twist!
Chris opened his desk drawer, grappled a pile of surprisingly tidy manilla folders, and slammed them onto the desk with a thud. This rogue action of his prompted a small frame of a cute, turquoise mermaid sneakily placed onto his desk to topple over and land safely in the rubbish bin next to him. Already present before the picture frame of the nautical woman memorabilia, were torn pieces of paper that read 'Crisis Island', 'Criss-Cross Crossover Island', and 'Survival Shack'.
"Not only have we gained access to the vast wide media multiverse," He spoke, holding up a printed photograph of a large regal blue telephone box with POLICE BOX scribed on all four of its sides. This fabled interdimensional device of legend was somehow a "favor" given to the host.
"...but twenty-four, all-new, and willing contest-er-victims currently heading our way!"
"A competitive fight for the option of the usual million-dollar cash prize ooorrrrrrrr...!" Chris verbally wandered for dramatic effect, then promptly help up another printed photo. This one depicted what can be described as a portal of golden light, a transcendence that was made up of every positive feeling known to humanity. "...the ultimate chance to reach nirvana!"
"In order to reach this perfect zone of peace and happiness, which I already know what's it like, doing this show!" Chris quickly remarked with a cheeky grin. "The faces more famous than mine will have to survive disgusting camp food, challenges that will pit them against this world or another, and, most deadly of all..."
"...each other." Despite his dark words, his words couldn't be any more cheery, if not sadistic.
"All this to find out in this glorious multiverse will win and achieve, TOTAL. DRAMA. NIR-"
But before Chris could finish, he was interrupted. "McLean!"
A disembodied voice rang from afar, resembling that of an angry, burly custodian. If one were unfamiliar, this would be Chris' equally psychotic and trusted partner, Chef Hatchet. "You coming in the damn TARDIS or what!?"
"D'oh, geez! I'm going! I'm going" Chris exclaimed, shuffling his way out of the chair and the desk to the closed door on his right.
Left alone and unattended in this cozy mess of a desktop was the previously displayed series of surprisingly formal manilla folders strewn about, either turned open and revealing its paper content or closed and neatly tucked away. Just about all of them had some odd yet familiar words inscribed onto the foldable covers with high-quality, burnt ink... one that may tickle the fancy of the average hippocampus. A couple of the folders, for example, wrote:
'Sonic the Hedgehog', 'South Park', 'JoJo's Bizarre Adventure'
What a beginning! First-ever prologue! Now, this is where the story turns to you... the viewer!
Drop YOUR contestant names in reviews or private messages. I initially tried a draft where I had filled out the cast list myself, but nothing would sit long or well with me (too many protagonists, unbalanced mediums, genders) and took away the magic of the viewer request that many stories like this delectably thrived on. All I ask for is to be descriptive! Recommend interactions, challenges, and motivations!
I certainly have my own set of contestants in mind, but am open to the world of possibilities many can toss my way! Definitely aiming for something in the vein of the Homespun or the Everything trilogy also found here. But please note, not all requests will be included but I will try my best to appease not only myself but as many of you as possible.
Huge, huge shout-outs thanks to Nondescriptnorbert and TheMasterKat. Both are masterful authors that served as the one-and-done motivations for me to return to writing and this crazy crossover reality show goodness!