"Last time, on Total Drama Junkyard!
"Twenty-one brand new contestants arrived to make their names known and get some cold, hard cash to boot. There were quibbling brothers, a sweetheart mute and her feisty translator, and a handful of competitors that we'd like gone sooner rather than later.
"The big surprise of the day was ruined by the ecstatic Howie, who immediately recognized veteran contestant Raphael from a second season of the original Total Drama Island. Afterwards, teams were split into the Screaming Dumpsters, and the Killer Trash.
"The contestants weren't done yet, as they had to do graceful and not-so-graceful dives into garbage bins to locate gold coins. Lucy's faulty leadership and Franky's dumb luck gave the Killer Trash a close win.
"In a near-unanimous vote, dominatrix Lucy was the first to take the Conveyor Belt of Losers, though we did need a little help from Chef and a potato sack. Ha ha, bonus!
"Will the Killer Trash prove victorious once again? What can be expected from clashing competitors like Zachary and Topaz? And why can't Raphael stop looking at his watch? Seriously. Dude was brought back to the show, least he could do is make it a bit more exciting.
"But we'll have all of the answers you're looking for and more, right now, on Total!
"Drama!
"Junkyard!"
(Like all opening sequences, this one begins with the familiar notes of "I Wanna Be Famous". A camera emerges from the top-left corner of the junkyard's entrance, followed by a camera in the opposite corner, followed by one underneath a sleeping guard dog.
The camera then zooms in through the entrance, barely avoiding a grinning Chris. It navigates through towers of trash before falling down the diving board into a pile of garbage.
A joyous Tom digs through the garbage looking for something, until the bin explodes thanks to a nearby Arnold. Raphael, who is flipping his coin as per usual, is caught off-guard from the explosion, leading to the charm being launched sky-high.
Cut to Ron and Reg, who are playing rock, paper, scissors over an unseen task. Ron wins, albeit through cheating by turning his rock into scissors, leading to a disappointed Reg approaching Lucy, who sports a devilish grin as she cracks her whip into the sky.
Meredith and Bastion observe this from nearby. While the jock cruelly laughs at this, Meredith simply rolls her eyes.
Cut to Ellen using the Confession Cam. She knocks twice on the side of the left wall, and a piece of paper falls, though Howie manages to swipe it before she can get a good look. She pursues the thief past a seething Lorelei.
Isaac approaches a sleeping guard dog, in a vague attempt to give it a scratch behind the ears. Topaz drags him back before he gets himself mauled, as Zachary gives a grim chuckle.
Angela meditates nearby, maintaining a complex position. Sammy tries to mimic her movements, but ends up falling flat on her face instead. Sheba arrives to apply a bandage to her wound, which Sammy is grateful for.
Louis plays a tune on his trusty saxophone for Jane and Foxglove, who give a standing ovation. In the background, Ellen manages to catch Howie and take back her paper, though she rips it up after reading it.
Cut to nighttime. As the twenty-two contestants sit around the burning barrel, Franky and Largo hold hands and look into each other's eyes... until a coin bounces off of Franky's head. Raphael picks it up and rubs his head sheepishly, as the camera backs up to reveal all of the contestants and the "Total Drama Junkyard" logo. The "J" dangles in the wind, clearly unfastened to the sign, before ultimately falling off with the last note from the guitar.)
In the dead of night, a mysterious figure tiptoed through the junkyard's dangerous terrain towards a rickety shack; the words "MEZZ HAL" were hastily scrawled on top of it in white crayon, which barely showed in the dark.
The figure reached into their pocket and removed what looked like a set of lockpicks. After a bit of tinkering, a satisfying "click!" came from the door.
"Perfect," the figure whispered.
The door creaked open to reveal a surprisingly spacious lodge. A large series of wooden tables with built-in benches were lined up on either side of the wall, dispensers for plasticware and napkins were already installed, and Chef Hatchet was once again given an ominous-looking window to serve his slop from.
Turning on the light (thanks in part to either an unknown power line or simply the simple joys of cartoon physics), Sammy pocketed her lockpicks and sneaked forward to her next destination; the kitchen.
As was to be expected, the kitchen was also in good condition. A small stove, refrigerator, and other appliances were scattered about, but what caught Sammy's eye were a set of pine cabinets, their doors opened to reveal an array of fine ingredients.
"Oh, this is going to be fun," Sammy said with a massive grin as she adjusted her hat. "Let's get to work!"
As the sun rose and lit up the Ontario sky, a rare moment of peace fell upon the usually tension-filled confines of the unknown junkyard where twenty-one contestants remained.
Scrap metal shined as it reflected sunbeams. A guard dog took a leisurely stroll around piles of garbage. It even seemed like a serene saxophone melody was slowly drifting through the air...
"OI! LOUIS! THIS MAY COME AS A SURPRISE TO YOU, BUT JUST BECAUSE THE SONG'S CALLED 'DAYBREAK' DOES NOT, I REPEAT, DOES NOT MEAN YOU NEED TO PLAY THE DAMN THING AT THAT TIME!"
...If only because it was.
As the jazzman lowered himself from the roof, Zachary tapped his foot impatiently.
"Something on your mind?"
Zachary turned around to find Raphael, who was adjusting the tails of his overly large coat.
"If that was the case, I'd be at that sorry excuse for a confessional," the slumdog spat, turning from Raphael. "And don't try to get on my good side, you got that? We're on different teams."
"Whoa, there. Sounds like somebody didn't get enough beauty sleep, huh?"
"And where the hell do you get off, talking to others like that?" Zachary reprimanded, jabbing a finger on Raphael's chest. "You think just 'cause you were on this freakin' show before I was you're better than me?"
"Let's not put words into each other's mouths," Raphael said, surprisingly calm given the situation.
"Yeah? Well, you'd better watch yourself, or else the next thing that I'll be putting into your mouth is my fist!"
"Clever. A bit harsh, but still clever."
"Eat shit and die."
"Not as clever, I'm afraid."
"Wasn't trying to be, smartass," Zachary snarled. "And get rid of that stupid coat; you look like a guy from a Japanese cartoon."
Raphael breathed deeply before responding with "I believe the word you're looking for is 'anime'."
"Oh, let me rephrase that, then. You look like a guy from a Japanese cartoon, except somehow you're even more of a douchebag than they usually are!"
"Hey, lovebirds, mind keeping it down?" Arnold called from the lower floor. "The tension's so high up there I could blow something up and you wouldn't know the difference!"
The two cynics stared each other down before walking away simultaneously.
Confession Cam
Zachary - "Yeah, so I'm not what you'd call a morning person. Doesn't change the fact that I was insulted by that chump. God, at least Hell Bent in Leather is gone, or else I'd have headed back to the streets by now."
Raphael - "'Japanese cartoon.' Really?"
Behind the men's cabin, Ron and Reg were having a not-so-secret meeting.
"All right, so you know what the plan is, right?" Ron asked his younger brother.
"Yeah, I got it, boss. We need to make sure that Franky helps us win this next challenge so we can know for sure that we can trust him, and we need to get rid of that lady he's been starin' at so he can get back in the game."
"Good, good. Understand, Franky?"
It was at that moment that Ron realized the youngest sibling was nowhere to be found.
"Son of a... Reg, didn't I ask you to get him?" Ron seethed.
"I did, boss, I swear!" Reg replied. "Maybe he just got lost or somethin'?"
"Ron, we are literally ten feet away from the door. If you could find our meeting place, I'm sure that Franky could as well."
As it turned out, Franky was simply caught between a rock and a hard place; that is to say, Isaac and Howie had been blocking the exit, having an intense debate that the missing brother couldn't make out due to the other argument between Zachary and Raphael, Arnold's yelling at them to shut up, Bastion's unprovoked telling of his forty-ninth perfect game in a row, and Louis' insistence on an encore performance.
"Well, when he does get here, we'll just give him the business," Ron concluded. "But remember the game plan, Reg; if he doesn't follow the rules, he's gonna learn the hard way that the family always comes first."
"Yeah... if you say so, boss. You're the... um, the boss," Reg said.
Unfortunately for the brothers, another person managed to hear their poorly-hidden strategy discussion, who ran into the Confession Can immediately afterwards.
Confession Cam... duh
Ellen - "So it's a sabotage, huh? Looks like those brothers aren't entirely playing fair. I know, I'm a hypocrite, but even I'm above cheating to win a contest. I just vote for who the higher-ups tell me to; I don't see anything wrong with that!"
As soon as the assassin left, she was met with an unfortunate sight; Angela was standing right in front of the door.
"To achieve balance, one must let go of any negative feelings towards one's neighbor, be they friend or foe," the yogi spoke. "You seem to have forgotten this important lesson, child."
"So you've found me out, huh? What'll it take for you to keep your mouth shut? I mean, you're on the other team, right... so you wouldn't have anything to gain from ratting me out, right? Right?" Ellen asked, her voice rising with every word.
"Worry not; as I have stated, I have perfected my state of balance, and will not drag your name through the mud."
Ellen sighed in relief.
"...However."
Ellen sighed in annoyance.
"I believe that a member of your tribe is plotting to break our natural balance. Though I am unaware of the contract you have made, I ask that you keep watch on this contestant, so as to insure harmony through the season."
"You realize you're on Total Drama, right?" Ellen quipped. "The only time we'll be in harmony is when it's all over."
"A lack of belief will only gain you more sorrow," Angela responded. "That being said, I understand how you would hesitate to believe me. I shall give you until the elimination ceremony to consider my offer. Until we meet again, child."
With that, Angela returned to lotus position and peacefully floated away.
"God... I've been doing this for way too long," Ellen mumbled, shaking her head in disbelief.
On the other side of the girl's cabin stood Sheba, an already-lit cigarette clenched between her small fingers. The orphan moved the cigarette to her lips, taking a slow drag before blowing out a large cloud of smoke.
"Sheba? What are you doing back here?"
Sheba turned around to find her teammate Topaz, an eyebrow cocked.
"Are you... smoking?" the bombshell asked.
"Evidence doesn't lie," Sheba mumbled. "You want one?"
"Um... no, thanks," Topaz said, wringing her hands uncomfortably. "Could I at least ask why you're doing so?"
"No real harm in that, I guess," Sheba said before she took another drag. "When you're on the streets, you find that you can't trust a whole lot of people, but who I always could trust were the smokers. Kind of an unwritten rule, I guess." She paused to do a loud series of coughs. "You ask for one, you get one. You need a light, they toss you a match. We all know it's dangerous, but at the very least I can belong."
"But if you're so into belonging, why don't you just join the rest of us and leave the smokes behind?" Topaz asked. "Do you really feel like we're all a bunch of strangers?"
Sheba gave a grim laugh before erupting into another fit of coughs. "Believe me, that sounds nice. But between you being the first person I've had a decent conversation with and the insane addiction of these things, I don't think that'll be happening anytime soon."
Topaz's face fell. "That's too bad, really. And if you shelter yourself off from the rest of us, that'll just put a target on your back, along with the butts you're gonna be littering."
"Hey, that's just a stereotype," Sheba retorted. "I dispose of them like I should; we're in a junkyard, after all, so garbage disposals are as plentiful as cameras."
Topaz lightly laughed at her teammate's joke.
"You sure you don't want one?" Sheba asked, reaching for a carton within her tunic.
Topaz stared down at the box before gulping and picking one up. It felt surprisingly comfortable in her hands.
"Light?"
"No, I'm fine with this," the bombshell chirped, twirling the cigarette between her fingers. Sheba smirked at the sight as she returned to her own cigarette.
Jane breathed a sigh of relief as she entered the makeshift mess hall; she had just managed to beat Foxglove, so she might be able to have a conversation with one of her other teammates.
Jane reminded herself that she had to stick to one of the Killer Trash; if Bastion saw her talking with the enemy, she'd be first on the chopping block. For that matter, she didn't want anything to do with the perfectionist.
Sammy had arrived first at the building to prepare breakfast (a fact that Jane was quite thankful for), so it would be rude to interrupt her during her work. Lorelei was gaining nutrients from an IV through her capsule, but even without that hindrance, Jane would keep her distance; she seemed to have an aura of bitter hatred around her.
Raphael, Howie, and Franky were all staring across their tables to the other side. While Raphael and Howie eyed their argument rivals from earlier, Franky was consistently adjusting his gaze, though more often than not it fell on Largo, who was sneaking some stares of her own towards Franky. Jane smiled; they were a cute couple, even though they were on separate teams.
Ellen was nowhere to be seen, and Louis wasn't much of a talker, though she knew full well how that felt. And that left...
"Hey, what are you doing all alone?"
...Tom.
The jovial daredevil had approached Jane while she was lost in thought. In his huge hands he held a platter of eggs, sausages, and cinnamon toast.
"C'mon, have some breakfast! You've gotta get that energy up for whatever Chris is gonna put us through, right?" Tom said with a laugh. "You can sit by only thing I'll be biting is this tasty food, ha ha!"
Jane nodded as she accompanied Tom to one of the smaller tables on the Trash side. They took seats opposite each other as Jane stabbed at a sausage with a surprisingly clean fork that was provided.
"So, tell me about yourself," Tom said, his boisterous voice somewhat dying down.
Jane glared at him.
"Ah, I'm sorry, really. Um... you do have a cell phone, right? Just text me something about yourself."
Jane nodded again as she pulled out her dark blue phone and started typing away. A few seconds later, a little jingle played from one of the pockets of his cargo shorts.
"Quicker than I thought," Tom mumbled to himself as he fished for his phone. Upon opening it, he read the message aloud.
"'Mute, as you know. Only one real friend. Came on the show to change the second fact.' Well, that makes sense." Tom looked down as he received another text. "'Can you sign?'"
Tom looked forward. Jane had not touched her sausage since.
"I'm afraid not, my friend. But at the very least you can hear me, so we do have a decent way of communicating, if I do say so myself. And from the looks of it, I will very much enjoy it!"
Tom gave another laugh. Jane gave a small smile before returning to her breakfast.
"Oh God, there you are! I was so worried!"
The smile vanished just as soon as it had appeared as Foxglove came running towards her friend, hugging her tightly.
"I thought that one of those jerks like Bastion had captured you! Oh, Jane, please... please don't leave without saying anything again!" Foxglove near-shouted.
"We can hear every word you're saying, you know," Bastion grumbled. "How insulting. If I were to capture your friend, I'd have done so in a much more perfect fashion!"
"I was just talking with Tom," Jane signed, hiding the annoyance on her face.
"Hiya!" the daredevil greeted with a friendly wave.
"Oh... well, still, you could've said something."
"..."
"You know what I mean, Jane."
"..."
"Fine, I'm sorry."
"That's what I like to hear!" Tom chimed in. "Well, I guess I should leave you two alone; feel free to have the rest of what I got here. I'll be seeing you!"
With that, Tom left the mess hall. Jane gave a solemn look to her friend before returning to the sausages that Tom had left.
Confession Cam
Jane - "I was so close to finally getting to talk with someone else. I know Foxglove meant well, but... it's just so frustrating to have her pulling me away from other people."
Tom - "To be perfectly honest, the other guys on my team aren't too crazy about me. But Jane... well, let's say she's the first to actually want to eat breakfast alongside me, and that can go a long way to making somebody's day."
Following breakfast, the twenty-one remaining contestants were called out for their challenge near a gigantic mound of trash.
"Garbage. How original," Zachary grumbled.
"Welcome to your second challenge, workers!" Chris began, ignoring the cynic's comment. "Today, we'll be testing your improvisational skills and your handiwork by making you create a flying machine!"
"Hold on a shecond, here," Howie spoke up. "Didn't you ushe this challenge in the fourth sheashon? You're gonna make ush draw cardsh to shee which kind of machine we'll have to create from the shcrap metal!"
"Considering how our last challenge was almost entirely recycled as well, I'll bet this whole season's just a bunch of repeats from past challenges with barely any effort put into it," Meredith stated.
"Come on, guys, cut me some slack! Even I'm above doing something as lazy as that!" Chris said as he dropped a manila folder labeled "TDAS" into a conveniently-placed flaming barrel.
"Now, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted, you'll be making a flying machine. However, since we know that you guys aren't the smartest bunch around, we'll make it easy on you; whoever's machine stays airborne the longest will win. Of course, if only one team makes a machine that can stay airborne, that team will automatically win.
"You've got whatever you can find in this pile of trash behind me to use, and one hour to build! Any questions?"
"Where's Chef? I haven't seen him around lately," Ellen asked.
"Oh, don't worry; he's just making some preparations for an upcoming challenge. And trust me, it's gonna get nuts!"
Chef Hatchet slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him.
"What do you mean, it's illegal? Do you know who I am?"
...
"Oh... you don't know who I am. Well, let me start from the beginning..."
"Workers, you've got ten minutes to make a game plan before you start tearing at each other's throats over a bent metal pole, starting now," Chris announced, staring at his watch.
"It's tragic, how accurate that statement is," Raphael mumbled to himself.
"Hey, keep your trap shut, huh?" Bastion snapped. "You're the veteran, right? Don't you have any ideas on how to win this thing?"
"I'm afraid not," Raphael admitted. "My season was more of a slapstick-focused one than a mental obstacle course. Although..."
"Although?" Sammy repeated.
"I'm not sure how, but over that season, I managed to successfully navigate a hot air balloon, so I might be able to make something like that work."
"You're kidding, right?" Bastion said. "You think we can construct a fully-working hot air balloon in under an hour? Where the hell are we going to get the flame?"
Raphael casually jerked his thumb towards the flaming barrel, still in the process of consuming Chris's file.
"...Fine. But you can count me out if that's the case; I won't be caught in anything so imperfect as that."
As the jock strode away in a huff, Raphael shrugged to the remaining members of the Killer Trash.
"Um... well, then, let's see what we can do."
Confession Cam
Raphael - "To be honest, I don't have a whole lot of experience being the 'team leader' or whatever; I mainly just wait in the background and hope I survive another day. But... well, I want to change, I guess. I don't want to be the same loser I was last season. And if that means taking charge here... well, it's a start, I guess."
"Franky, Tom, Ellen. Can I rely on you guys to get a basket ready?"
"I'm on it," Franky said with a nod. "Anything you want us to look for?"
"Something light, but sturdy; we want the thing to float, but we also don't want Chris eliminating us for any free falls. Don't get any ideas, Tom."
The daredevil's face fell.
"Jane, Foxglove, Louis. Can you guys see if you can find a tarp or something similar?"
"A tarp, huh?" Foxglove spoke up, considering the other two members in her group couldn't for various reasons. "Like, just a sheet or something?"
"Whatever's available, yeah. If anything, we can get a few people on stitching it together; Sammy, can I count on you for that?"
"Sure thing!" the chef chirped. "But should I do anything in the meantime?"
"Oooh! Oooh, I've got an idea! Oooh, oooh, pick me, pick me!" Howie yelped, jumping up and down frantically.
"...Yes?"
"Shammy and I can work together to find shome shuitable shtringsh to hold up the tarp, couldn't we?"
"...I suppose so, yes. And that just leaves..."
Raphael froze; he hadn't considered that the only person remaining was none other than the ice queen, Lorelei.
"Yeah, real mature. Way to leave me until all of the work is completed," Lorelei droned. "I bet it's because I'm stuck in this freakin' machine, and oh, she can't get anything if she can't use her arms! Well, smart-ass, maybe I know a thing or two about hot air balloons, did you consider that? That thought enter your sorry little mind at any time?"
"Lorelei, do you know anything about hot air balloons?"
"Of course I don't! What the hell do you take me for, some kind of encyclopedia? I bet you're just asking me this because you think that since I can't move I have to be some endless source of knowledge for you, huh? Well, too bad for you!"
Raphael sighed; it was going to be a long challenge.
Meanwhile, the Screaming Dumpsters were not having much more luck in determining how their flying machine would be created.
"Okay, so we're all clear on this," Arnold began. "The hoverboard is made of licorice. We can punch it if we want to, but only if it's near a swingset. Is that good? Are we good, guys?"
"I like it," Ron said with a nod.
"Sounds good," Topaz confirmed with a thumbs-up.
"Can the swingset hover?" Reg asked.
"Damn it, now we're back to where we started again!" the pyrotechnician roared. "How the hell can it be so hard to make a hoverboard out of licorice in the first place?!"
"Morons," Meredith grumbled. "Does anybody know anything about planes that could be made sometime this century?
"I... um..." Largo whispered.
"Speak up, child," Angela demanded, breaking from her meditative pose. "The flower that blooms last is not always the most beautiful."
"C'mon, Largo, if you have an idea, you can share it," Sheba assured. "It's not like it can be any worse than whatever else we can come up with."
"Oh, you'd be surprised..." Zachary muttered under his breath.
"Well, the thing is... I really like museums, and I've seen a lot of plane designs. I think... we might be able to recreate one of the more simple designs... but we might not have the materials ready in time..."
"Shouldn't be a problem. Won't be a problem. Not a problem, no."
All eyes turned to Isaac, who was passing his time by stomping on a discarded tin of cat food.
"Planes are simple to design, simple to make, yeah. Anyone can make, create a plane. Easy, simple, yeah."
"Oh, really?" Ron said, arms crossed. "Then let's see you make one right now, hot shot."
Without warning, Isaac dove into a smaller pile of trash parallel to the larger one behind Chris. After some digging, he came up with a razor blade and a small chunk of plywood.
"Just combine these, yeah. Make a plane. Real simple."
Nine pairs of eyes stared blankly at Isaac; even the relatively cool Meredith and Angela were at a loss for words.
"Um... Isaac, hon? That's not what we meant by a plane," Sheba said, breaking the long silence.
"Oh. Well, you should have been more specific, precise, exact with what you were saying, yeah," Isaac said, nonchalantly throwing the tools behind him.
"Time's up!" Chris called out.
"Oh, for God's sake..." Zachary seethed. "Look, everyone just grab whatever you can find and we'll see what we can do, all right?"
"Who put you in charge?" Meredith asked, one of her eyebrows barely risen above the other.
"I did, of course, because you guys couldn't build your way out of a paper bag... whatever the crap that means. The point is, I don't want to lose again, and if no one else is going to try, then you leave me no choice. After all, I'm used to improvising."
"I hear that," Sheba responded. "Living on the streets really opens your eyes to a whole lot of opportunities you didn't know existed beforehand. Just fill your arms with something and leave the rest to me and Largo."
"Oh... um... no, you don't have to..."
"Sound good to you, boss?" Reg asked his older brother.
"Well, he's not exactly who I'd like in charge, but I guess he'll have to do," Ron said disdainfully.
"Workers ready... and begin!" Chris shouted, complemented with a honk from his trusty bullhorn.
Author's Note: I apologize for the tardiness of this chapter; I meant to have it up earlier, but I couldn't due to personal issues. I also apologize that this chapter ends in an awkward spot without much action, but I hope to have this improved by the next one.
I thank you for reading.