"Fanmail Frenzy"
Rated T for Crude Humor, Sexuality, and Language
Disclaimer: My name's not Little Jimmy!
("Sirius" by The Alan Parsons Project plays.)
Justin: Welcome back for some more Fanmail Frenzy! Okay, enough with the crap. Why is everyone standing on a line like this?
(Justin sees that the rest of the Total Drama cast are standing on a straight line as they are facing a T-shirt cannon.)
Heather: Tell me something I wouldn't know...
Justin: Okay, it's because in an attempt to get ratings. This T-shirt cannon right here will be shot, containing a letter, and it's gonna go right at our nads or the cooch knowing that the letter is ours. Get ready.
(Justin puts his goggles on.)
Owen: I have to go to the bathroom...
Justin: Hold it in. Here we go!
(The cannon hits Duncan and Justin's nads.)
Duncan: (cringing) Oh, shit...
Justin: (cringing) Yeah, I think my nads are about to flare up..
(Justin gets himself together and reads the first letter.)
Justin: This one's from Kyrogue23 and he writes...
Dear Duncan and Justin,
I dare you two to fool Chris thinking he struck oil in his backyard and that you two dress up as crazy cowboy oil tycoons telling him his land has oil in it. And that he hit his sewer tank.
Sincerely, Kyrogue23
Justin: Duncan, are you thinking what I'm thinking?
Duncan: Oh...hell...yeah!
Justin: Suit up!
(Justin and Duncan leave.)
Heather: Okay, while Justin and Duncan get to the dare, let's see which letter pops out next...
(Music plays, when suddenly...)
Cody: OHHHHHHHHHHHH!
(The cannon hits Cody in the nads hard.)
Cody: (cringing) Damn it! It hurts like jai alai here!
(Heather picks up the letter.)
Heather: This letter reads...
Dear Cody,
My question is... How do you deal with a stalker of a girlfriend?
Bryan P. Evans
Cody: (still cringing) I don't have time to answer that...Justin had a bad idea putting that T-shirt cannon in front of my balls!
Heather: Well, Bryan. Cody might answer, but his balls are redder than the devil bleeding himself. So in other words, he can't. Next letter, please.
(Another letter is shot as Heather grabs it just in time.)
Heather: This is another letter from Bryan and he writes...
Dear Izzy
My question is...do uou ever regret breaking up with Owen?
Bryan P. Evans
Heather: Izzy?
(Izzy has dozed off.)
Heather: (angrily) IZZY!
(Katie hits Izzy in the back of her head, therefore waking her up.)
Izzy: (wakes up) Ahh! What is Blubblebutt!
Heather: Another cheap-ass "Jeopardy!" dream, again?
Izzy: Huh? What?
Heather: The question!
Izzy: What question? I wasn't listening...
Heather: Apparently not! Sorry, Bryan. Neither Cody or Izzy can take your responses because their nards are on fire. Thanks a lot, flame-brains! Okay, next letter please.
(Another letter shoots out, and Heather throws it a Sierra's swimsuit region. Sierra doesn't even feel it.)
Sierra: Hehehehe...that tickles. Okay, I got this one.
(Sierra picks up the letter and reads it.)
Dear Sierra,
What was your childhood like before you noticed Cody?
Sincerely, Jackie Daniels
Sierra: Well, Jackie...my line of bulletproof blenders! My family's company owns every one of these babies! You can just blend anything from bread, juice, fruit, and even bad taxes. Let the IRS come and get one of these! My whole complete family is tax cheats all the way!
Heather: Thanks for that uncomfortable moment. Okay, now let's go to Justin and Duncan where they arrive at Chris McLean's house. How's it goin' over there, guys.
(Camera shows Justin and Duncan dressed like cowboy-like oil tycoons from Texas. They are at Chris McLean's private ranch.)
Justin: This stinks, Heather. His whole farm smells like a cow-s**t apocalypse here.
Duncan: But at least we got the stuff. Time to make some magic...
(Justin and Duncan go to Chris's doorstep and rings the bell. Chris opens the door, in where he is wearing a robe.)
Chris: What do you want. I'm menstruating!
Justin: (in a Texas accent) Excuse me, pardner. Aren't you Chris McLean?
Chris McLean: Who wants to know.
Duncan: Pardner, we're from the BP corporation in San Antonio. We have reason to believe that underground, your whole field is covered by rich Texas oil.
Chris McLean: Are you trying to play a trick, or am I just s**tting here?
Justin: Nope, pardner, this is the real deal. And estimates show that this kind of Texas oil costs about $250 million.
Chris McLean: Really? $250,000,000?
Duncan: If you don't believe me, grab a shovel!
Chris McLean: Well, all right! I'll be back!
(Chris leaves and Justin stares at the camera.)
Justin: (chuckling) This poor sucker's buying it...!
(Chris comes back with a pickaxe.)
Chris: It's oil time! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Justin: Sure it is...(quietly) You dumb bastard...
(Back at the studio...)
Heather: He sure is...okay, while Justin and Duncan accompany him to his hell...next letter please!
(Another letter shoots out, and Heather grabs it.)
Heather: This one's for Harold, and this guy writes...
Dear Harold,
What other hobbies to you have besides beatboxing, random facts and mad skills?
Sincerely, Travis Lippmann
Harold: Well, Travis. I excel at one thing. I am the world's undisputed World Celebrity Thumb Wrestling champion! I am currently undefeated against Adam Sandler, Santino Marella, and Fat Elvis. This is me...
(Harold shows a picture of himself celebrating his victory and holding the WCTW heavyweight belt. He seems to be sweating all over his body.)
Harold: That's me. Take a look at greatness.
Geoff: That's not greatness. That's pit sweat you're sporting there.
Harold: I do not stink!
Bridgette: That is pit sweat. That is gross in my opinion!
Harold: Thumb wrestling is hard work...
Heather: Guys, as much as we want to talk about Harold's sudden B.O...let's head over to Justin and Duncan and see what they're doing with the guinea pig, known as Chris McLame. Justin?
(Camera shows Justin and Duncan watching Chris McLean faraway as he is picking away at his private field.)
Justin: In all silence. We are watching Chris at it's lamest.
Chris McLean: (from far away) Hey, guys! Why aren't you helping me over here?
Justin: (in a Texas accent): Son, this is a one-man's job. Besides, I heard the fine attractive women in Texas find a guy to do a hard-workin' job like this, extremely sexy.
Chris McLean: Really? Well...(hits the pickaxe once more)...I'm coming! I shall rise again!
(Chris hits a ping. As he does, the "Texas oil" comes shooting like a geyser. Some of it even rains on Chris.)
Chris McLean: It's raining...oil...It's raining oil! I'm rich! I'M RICH!
(Chris McLean does Santino Marella's air trumpet.)
Duncan: (In a Texas accent) You must be lucky one sumbitch. You know what we have in store for you?
Chris: What's that.
Justin: (in his regular accent) You actually hit a s**t tank. So congratulations...you are officially #2. Later!
(Duncan and Justin drive off. Chris is stunned, several moments later.)
Chris: This is...
(Chris's face turns from stunned to pissed off.)
Chris: S****************IT! THOSE G*****N PANSIES! RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!
(Chris goes out in a rampage. Meanwhile, everyone at the studio is laughing like hyenas.)
Geoff: What a douche!
Bridgette: I agree!
Heather: I agree too. Okay. Next letter, please!
(Another letter shoots out. Heather catches it in time.)
Heather: Okay, this one for the rage-a-holic herself and this girl writes...
Dear Eva,
I dare you to make out with Noah for five minutes.
Sincerely, Shirley Meeks
(Eva and Noah are stunned.)
Audience: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Eva: (angrily) What! What kind of a pansy-ass question is that? I'm not making out with some shrimp!
Noah: Me neither! I refuse to make out with the human volcano with steroids!
Heather: You have to. You have to accept any dare that we do!
Eva: Really? I'm still not doing it! Noah would have to get me drunk just to ki-
(Her voice is cut off by Noah's lips and his tongue, in which it is inside Eva's whole mouth.)
Audience: WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Noah: ...
(Eva soon starts to enjoy the kiss, and starts to hold Noah affectionately. They make out so intensely, that they fall out of their seat. Ezekiel is turned on by the sight of Noah and Eva kissing.)
Ezekiel: It's Miller Time, Eh?
(Ezekiel smiles freakishly.)
(Noah and Eva come back up. Noah's face is full of Eva's lip marks. Eva's hair seems to miss a ponytail. They seem to go back to their seats.)
Eva: We...shall never hear of this again...
Noah: Agreed...
(Justin and Duncan come back to the studio.)
Justin: We're back...what did I miss?
Heather: Noah and Eva...
Justin: If that's something personal or strange, I don't wanna hear about it.
(Justin looks around and see that his cannon is missing.)
Justin: What happened to my cannon that contained our letters?
Heather: Ask Cody. He preferred that he'd had it removed.
(Justin looks at Cody angrily.)
Cody: Don't take it personal...It was too painful. Look at my nads, they burn like a damn hibachi!
Justin: (angrily) You-!
(Justin goes after Cody, lunging at him. But is cut off when the camera goes to Heather. Punching noises are heard.)
Heather: Ouch. When Justin is finished beating the holy crap out of Cody, we'll take more letters and dares from the audience when we come back! Trent, take us to commercial!
Trent: Glad to. One, two, three...
("Sirius" by The Alan Parsons Project plays.)
Just so you know, we won't accept some of the letters. But we wouldn't hurt to accept a couple of dares. My apologies if I forgot your letters. Read and review until then! That means you, Brock Lesnar (who will make an appearance next chapter!).