"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 1:
"SEASONS IN THE SUN"
(PART 1 of 2)
In a gorgeous locale unknown in the multiverse... or to you... at least for now.
Our camera smash cuts to a scenic view, one so ethereal and relaxing it could only be desired by the overworked or those looking to unwind after a very long week: an island of fresh, abundant vegetation right next to a shoreline where sand-ridden land meets endless waves of water. A beautiful, life-affirming marriage of natural elements. The air is as warm as the nearby ocean. The constant sound of the gusts of winds creeping up and down the creaky leaves of the towering palm trees, the distant squawking of airborne seabirds, and the sun beaming down its hot rays to the planet below.
A perfect outside setting for indoor television.
Standing there with feet firm in the sand and a few inches from the constantly, wind-pushed waves of the deep blue, his chiseled square back facing the camera, was a figure. Dressed in a solid blue dress top, a shark tooth necklace, rolled-up white sleeves, white swim trunks, and sandals. His locks of raven hair flowed elegantly in the wind.
"Yo! We're coming at you live from the cross-trans-dimensional-media universe to bring you a brand new season of the finest reality show ever conceived."
In his right side pocket, a sharp electronic beep echoed, albeit a bit muffled given its spot.
"Yo! McLean!" A familiar voice rang from the device, its vibrating in the man's pocket breaking his gaze from the horizon line far ahead of him. The man began digging through his pocket, unbuttoning it to grab and then hold up a walkie-talkie.
"I'm on my way back, bringing the party to you. Are we ready to go?" The other voice explained.
"Yeah, dude!" McLean called back. Despite his present tone, his smile lowered into a frown. "Hey, Chef?"
"What's up, man?" asked his co-host, care and concern present in his.
"Do you ever think about... y'know?"
Chef's eyebrow raised. "Think about what?"
"How much..." He began, to which Chef curiously leaned in, his eyebrow-raising even higher.
"...FUN we're gonna have this season!" McLean twists his body around, revealing himself in a sudden burst of mirth and excitement, his 'reveal' set to a faux audience cheer. "Yeah, we're gonna have a bunch of freaks, babes, and weirdos running around our little vacation spot but the ratings are gonna be off the charts!"
"Like, the multiverse?! Crossovers!? Dude, that just prints money! Nobody in the universe has thought of this idea yet, except for me, the host, Chris McLean!"
Chef shakes his head disapprovingly, but even that turns into a fond smile.
"Alright, alright, just keep your sandals on."
Chef puts the walkie-talkie back in his pocket, as he re-focuses his attention steering a wooden boat, one going against the roaring waters of the sea. On Chef's thick wrist, was a radar with twenty-two small dots beeping on them.
"Buns, guns, fun in the sun and more, only on TOTAL. DRAMA. NIRVANA!"
[INTRO NOT YET FILMED]
One... two... three..." Chris slowly counted, holding up accompanying fingers while staring down an awfully convenient wristwatch.
Almost right on cue, the Hatchet-piloted boat slid onto shore and into an empty spot of sand, a good couple of feet away from where the iconic host was standing.
The small wooden door swung open and out from the darkness, the burly African-American man of Chef and an equally popular mug around these parts. He was, however, decked out in a different appearance of aviator sunglasses, a palm-tree patterned red Hawaiian shirt, cargo shorts, sand-coated sandals, and a quite tasty coconut drink. The little delicacy had a bendy straw-umbrella hybrid.
"Chef, welcome back, my man! How was your trip through the cracks in the wide blanket of our reality?" Chris remarked, rather smugly and oddly casually given the nature of his statement.
"Ehh... it's alright." Chef replied, not before taking another sip from the decorative crazy straw of his tropical delicacy. "My grandma's two-seater is faster than this thing."
"Now! Let's see who our first-ever, torture-susceptible contestant of this season shall be." Chris stated, rubbing his hands eagerly together.. "
With much anticipation, a subtle drum roll, and tense silence, a white oat arrived and parked on the shore. Nobody was visible on the marine vehicle but in a quick, jumping flash, a figure flipped from the bow onto the air, allowing the sun's beam to turn into a lens flare shining bright.
With a mirthful holler and the clean SCHWING of a katana blade being removed from its sheath, the figure landed in the sand, bellowing out from under him.
Now visibly in an exquisite landing position, the form revealed itself to be a lanky humanoid turtle. Around his eyeline was a blue bandana and red markings underneath. On his character, was a bluish shell with a yellow plaster, blue straps that went over and under his shoulder as did a pouch, and black sports tape strapped around his hands up to his forearm.
A sharp grin was ever so present on his green turtle-y face.
"Leonardo! How's it hula-hanging?"
"A pleasure to be here!" He said, giving Chris a firm handshake. "You know I had to represent the Mad Dogs over at the Big N, Y, of C!" continued Leonardo, pointing one of his two fingers at himself.
"Righteous! now please, step over here." He cheerfully said, motioning away from the water.
"You gyatt it." He winked with his pointer finger pointed at the host, his smirk widening as he walked toward the designated spot in the sand.
Second off the boat, a yellow-skinned teenage girl with a pink mane, big green eyes,, wearing a pinkish white tank top, with a green jack, and green skirt decorated on its side with an image of pink butterflies, slowly but carefully stepped off the vessel. On her back was a set of wings of yellow, feathery wings.
"Fluttershy! Magical to have you here."
"Uhm, thank you, Mr. McLean." She bashfully went, causing the two to sit in silence.
"Alright, step over there please with the turtle dude, please."
"Turtle?" Fluttershy lit up a little.
Leonardo threw a quick wave at the horse, to which she timidly reciprocated.
Next off the boat and hopping off its bow, a young boy in a brown-lined, bright orange parka hopped out. His youthfulness and snow gear of an outfit made him way stand out more than the other contestants.
"Kenny McCormick! Got anything to say?"
Kenny placed his round, gloved hand over where his chin would be under his parka, thinking to himself.
"Mmppff mupf mummff muh mupf mumf," He interrupted himself with a childish laugh. "Mph mph mph hm hm mph mph!"
"Heh... right…" Chris noted. In complete contrast, Chef had the most widened expression of shock and disbelief imaginable.
"Chris! Did you hear what that little punk just said?"
"What? What did he say?" asked Chris, pretty nonchalant.
"Where's the soap, I'm gonna wash that boy's mouth out with that, then saltwater, and then soap again!"
Meanwhile, Kenny made an adorable beeline towards the first arrivals, one was leaning his elbow on his long sword while the other had stars in her eyes.
"Hi, little guy." kindly said Fluttershy.
"Mppmh mphm mph?"
"Huh?" She asked.
"I like the attire, my little dudesman, but aren't you like hot in that thing?" asked Leo, leaning on Fluttershy which she did not like. "It's fifty-something degrees out here... hotter than me!"
"Mmmpff mmph mppffhhh!" Kenny seemingly replied.
"Oh, sweet, you've been to Hawaii, and in that? I've always wanted to go there! The samosas, the views, the grass skirts." He really emphasized that last word.
As Leonardo and Kenny's conversation drifted out of earshot, the next dingy boat arrived.
Off the boat, a scraggly red-haired, crudely anthropomorphic yellow duck adorning a set of pincer glasses over his orange beak, a white collared dress shirt, and a green-rimmed bomber jacket. He was, however, in his birthday suit below his nonexistent belt.
"Duckman! Welcome to the show."
"Thanks, glad to be here!" Duckman remarked, walking closer to Chris and Chef, though he didn't like the confused glare Hatchet was giving him.
"What the hell are YOU starin' at?!" He shouted, set to perfectly timed cheers, claps, applause, and the fearful squeak of Fluttershy as she hid behind Leonardo, despite it not being directed at her.
"How—" Chris began before he realized faux audience noise kept going. He sighed. "One minute."
The host with the most picked up a stray coconut, twisted his torso around, and tossed it at one of the loudspeakers hidden amongst the palm tree leaves, shutting the sound off immediately. He very much looked like an Olympic athlete participating in discus throwing.
"Got to tell Cinnamon to get that fixed out. Duckman, how you doin', nice to have you, please step over there."
Duckman and Chef stared at Chris. "..."
"Ideal sign of quality, so far," Duckman muttered to himself, as he walked towards the trio making up the current cast. He stood next to Leonardo, to which Fluttershy and Kenny stood on his right.
"Nice to see fellow fun and fancy freaks on the show, it will make me feel right at home."
"Freaks?" Fluttershy asked.
"Right back at ya, birdman!" Leo replied happily.
"That's Duckman to you, sport." The duck said, eyebrows furrowed as he fixed his jacket.
"What did I say?" pondered Leo.
A tall, red-haired woman stepped carefully off the boat. On her person, bronze hair sticks that held her ponytail, an equally long white, red-rimmed cloak with lines and stars, white pseudo-pants, and holding it all together, a star-covered, black bikini top and bottom. On her back seemed to be a completely intact, shiny sniper rifle that glistened in the sun, as did the... exposed rest of her.
"Y-Yoko Littner, w-what brings you here?" Chris stammered, as his train of thought was somewhere else.
"Thought I'd take a page out of my friend Simon's book and examine the life on other worlds we liberated from the Anti-Spiral. Also if I win, I can come back with stories and the cash prize for my students back home." She winked.
Needless to say, everything in the vicinity with eyes had their eyes on her.
"J-just step on me—with the cast! Step towards the cast, please." The host continued spilling his metaphorical spaghetti, prompting Chef to roll his eyes.
Yoko walked past the hosts, and towards the contestants where the optical affixation on her clothes, only continued.
"Oh my, nice to meet you, Miss Yoko!" Fluttershy waved her yellow face a slight red.
Yoko waved back as she walked towards Kenny, who was in a state of absolute astonishment, the shadow of the woman creeping then towering over the South Park Elementary student.
"Aw, hello there. Are you my competition? I promise to go easy on ya."
Kenny's eyes widened more than humanly possible, continuously looking at her yellow eyes and below her neck. Similarly, his pupils were dilated, and the blood flow increased in his... nose.
"Oh no, I got ya." Yoko said, grabbing the back end of her cloak and swiftly wiping Kenny's nose with it. Despite the hospitality, Kenny remained frozen.
"Hmm, beast men, is he okay?" She asked, looking at Leonardo and Duckman who stared back at her.
"He is under the influence of what we like-minded adults like to call puberty." Duckman began. "My old friend, the lit match to my candle of continuous on-and-off-again adultery addiction, and my retroactive nemesis." lamented Duckman. "I remember when I was a supple young boy once, looked at the world brightly and all that."
"My, don't you have a way with words?" Yoko complimented, standing up, but as she did the rest of her bounced around as well. "Are you a father?"
A vacant grin of pleasure grew on Duckman's beacked face, as did the pool of sweat dripping down his deflated forehead. "Dollfare, you can say that again and again and again and again—"
"..."
"Is he okay?" Yoko asked, looking at Leonardo, as she leaned towards the private detective with a finger on her chin and her other hand on her right thigh.
"Yeah, he's just thinking of his favorite bread on his favorite pond or something," Leo snarked, getting closer to the two, and leaning on Duckman's shoulder. "But look at you, sis! I'm loving the digs, you have to give me your outfitter's card."
She smiled. "Thanks!"
"Wait, wait, hold up one second, before we become besties, bump me!" Leonardo held up a closed fist, waiting for the lady sniper to reciprocate. "We need to get our cool new handshake started."
Unsure what to do, she slowly but gradually put her fist against the turtles.
"Bwoom!" Leo went, quickly but comically pulling his green hand back from Yoko's fist.
Yoko could only give a small smile and laugh.
"Wholesthom apples." Duckman shakily spoke.
"Oh, I love apples!" went Fluttershy. "My friend Applejack harvests the reddest, most delicious ones in Ponyville."
Next off dingy, with a straw hat atop her braided red hair, a young girl with freckles splattered over her face in a green farmer's dress overlaid with a navy blue overall-like dress laid over it. She also had long black stockings and black old-fashioned shoes.
"From one island to another, Anne Shirley!"
"Well, I'd say, thank you, kind sir." thanked Anne, bowing while pinching two ends of her dress up.
As she walked past the pair of hosts, a lightbulb went off in Hatchet's head.
"Anne Shirley? Now that's a name I haven't heard of since primary school!" Chef exclaimed.
"You've read Anne of Green Gables, dude?" Chris remarked, eyebrow raised.
"Had to read something during downtime as an army corporal, the beauty of growing up, finding your place in the world through discipline. It-it struck a chord with me, man." Chef went on, a small tear forming in his right eye.
"..." "..."
"Just read it, man!" Hatchet shouted.
"No, no, man, I totally get it."
"A pleasure to meet all of you!" Anne repeated her bowing down while holding two ends of her dress.
Next off another dingy, boat carrying a scraggly-haired middle-aged man in a beige uniform and trenchcoat coolly. From there, he slowly but surely exited with a hand dedicated to holding a lit cigar.
"Howyado." The man extended his hand out, pulling the host into a firm handshake.
"Lieutenant Columbo! Snooping out the competition, eh?"
He leaned in closer, his eyes locked into Chris. "You're a devious man, McLean. That's what they tell me."
"Uhh, right, I also hope they told you we are both protected under the eyes of the law."
Columbo ended the handshake to fix the cigar in his mouth, then laughed. The detective began walking away before suddenly turning around.
"Oh, er, and one more thing."
Rampant sweat began running down Chris' forehead, as he realized what typically happened after he muttered that sentence. His research on every contestant was very much showing.
"Ya got a crab in ya pocket."
Chris looked down to indeed see a live red crab nesting in his trunk pocket. He promptly picked it up by its claw and tossed it away.
Chef broke down into a chortle. "I like him."
In an instant, there was a blunt horn that echoed across the water, as did a unique voice of excitement calling from a boat heading towards the shore. "Nyehehehe, this is gonna be freakin' sweet! Here I come, everybody! Da da de de de da!" The distance call of the voice became a very off-key rendition of the Back to the Future theme, which gradually but effectively closer until it came crashing into the sand.
"Alright, everyone! Say hello to Quahog's very own Pe—" Exclaimed the pudgy, brown-haired middle-aged man wearing glasses, a white collared shirt, a black belt, green pants, and brown shoes, attempting to pull himself from the boat but found himself unable to exit due to his bloated physicality.
"Uh, well, this is awkward," Peter noted, darting his eyes all around. "Does anybody have butter I could snack on?"
Chris sighed, hand over his eyes and already having enough of this man's crap. "Hello, Peter Griffin. Thank you for bringing your old-fashioned values to the show. Chef?"
Chef grumbled as he walked to the dingy boat, grabbing the fat man by the collar of his shirt, placing his sandaled foot over what was left of the frame under Peter's blubber, and began pulling with all his might as if he were removing gum from the bottom of a school table. In a tense demonstration of strength, Chef yanked Peter out and was surprisingly able to lift his body, well, upper body, to which Chef dropped on the sand.
"Thank you, Mr. Sam Jackson. You did deserve that Best Supporting Actor for Pulp Fiction." Peter said, as he got up and dusted off the stray sand collected on his shirt and pants. He then looked around to see the continued stares of his fellow contestants.
"Oh, man, wasn't that—that was more awkward than the time Lion-O spilled food all over Obi-Wan!" There was a brief moment of silence after Peter's proclamation, as everyone from the hosts to the cast to the birds to the crabs watched the Rhode Island native just simply... space out.
"Nyheeheh, yeaahh..." Peter dragged out his chuckle, quite happily.
The deafening silence and the distant calls of seabirds were broken in an instant.
"Note to self, never visit Rhode Island or drink its water under any circumstances." narrated Duckman, holding up a tiny notepad and pen.
"Dude! I have the same note too!" added Leo. "Except replace that with New Jersey and Staten Island."
Next off a boat, a schlubby middle-aged man in a green army fatigue shirt-jacket, a normal-looking pair of jeans, and worn, white shoes with a haircut and beard as scraggly as his person. He wasn't particularly fascinating or smelled good but something about his appearance contrasted heavily with this very animated group.
"Charlie Kelly, top of the mornin' to ya!" Chris exclaimed before swiftly plugging his nose. "Aw man, you reek!"
"Woah, man, I think I'm tripping out," said Charlie, putting a hand on his forehead.
"How so? Had too much milk steak?"
Charlie gave an odd look at the host for that, "No, no, it's just that all of you are like, dream cartoon people."
The contestants all began glancing at each other in reaction to the Irish Pub owner's odd suggestion.
"You guys are all like weird inks and colors and, and shapes." Kelly insisted, albeit through a stammer. "Except for that guy, he's normal." He said, pointing at Columbo, who kindly threw a thumbs up.
"What's that supposed to mean, hobo?" asked Chef, an eyebrow raised.
"If anything you're the weird one here, dude," hollered Leonardo with a hand over his mouth, quite ironically.
Charlie's words were partially true, as Charlie and Columbo, amongst this cast of traditionally animated faces, provided a real Who Framed Roger Rabbit set of visuals.
"Just step over there, dude," Chris demanded. "Before you weird anybody else out."
Kelly began shuffling toward the flock of contestants, though that didn't stop him from uneasily staring at the flat two-dimensional people standing right next to him.
"Mphf mphf mphf mphf?" inquired Kenny.
"No, I'm not Charlie Manson!" Charlie quickly defended. "Why would you even say that?!"
The orange parka kid simply shrugged.
Next off the boat, a teenage Japanese girl in a thick set of winter clothes, a poofy red jacket, a green scarf, beige paints, and snow boots. She looked kind of stern, but her soft, rounded appearance told otherwise.
"Miyuki! Welcome to your temporary new home!"
"Uh, thanks. I'm just happy to be out of... the streets for a while." Miyuki muttered, hands firmly in her coat pockets before walking to the rest of the cast, randomly choosing to stand next to Charlie.
"Oh man, you stink!" She exclaimed, her hand blanketing her nose. "You homeless too, beardo?"
"Huh? No, no, I have an apartment that I share with an old man who's also like my dad, and a pub in Philadelphia that I share with my-my friends, it's a really good spot."
"Uh-huh." She drifted, as her head turned to her right, as she looked down to see Kenny staring up at her.
"Hey." She coolly went to the boy, a sense of mutual respect present in her voice.
"Mmph."
Next off the boat, was a slightly pale Asian woman with giant green eyes, wearing a white and black robe that exposed her chest with a white belt holding up a black skirt. Her braided hair was a visual wonder consisting of light pink hair that faded into a lime green color at the halfway point.
"Show some love for the Love Hashira herself, Mitsuri Kanroji!"
"Hmm mmm!" She hummed brightly, with a smile as vibrant as her hair.
Like Yoko, a streak of eyes was focused on Mitsuri's odd choice of outfit.
"Hubba hubba!" went Peter.
"Dude!" exclaimed Leonardo, nudging Peter in his round arm.
"What? I just like her... her floppy sword... probably fun to whip my... wife with."
Peter's little comment got a few glances from the male, but mostly female cast members.
"What?"
Next out of the boat, a short photorealistic raccoon with nubs for paws awkwardly hopped off the boat, having to crawl off the boat and hop onto the sand due to being quite vertically challenged. He stood firmly on the ground and towards the cast.
"Konnichiwa." went the raccoon, in a shockingly and comically deep voice.
"What a fascinating critter." Anne went, with a hand on her chin, lost in thought to make of this creature.
"That's not any critter, that's Papa-San Takegami! Otherwise known as the Raccoon." Chris played up that last part. "You pick and choose, I don't care."
But, before Raccoon could utter correct the host, he was swiped from the sand to the arms of the currently flying Fluttershy.
"Oh, my Celestia! aren't you the cutest thing in the whole wide world?" She exclaimed, delighted and squeezing the ethnically coded entity tight.
"Horry crap! I've been abducted by a teenage girl, a reverse kidnapping!"
"Hey, McLean! did you get the boat carrying the filthy foreign vermin trash and the contestant boat mixed up?" heckled Duckman.
"Foorish accusation to throw at nature's ninja assassin!" Raccoon belted out with the finest chutzpah his tiny body could expel, as he unsheathed his katana and lept from Fluttershy's arms and towards Duckman.
Duckman shrieked as he attempted to duck, but the SCHWING of the blade cutting something was heard loud and clear. The raccoon had landed behind him, closer to the palm trees.
"Dude!" Chris exclaimed, shocked hands on his head. If what he thought happened happened, a medical evacuation and lawsuit were imminent.
"Huh-oly shit!" Miyuki yelled, shocked.
"Mmmph!" exclaimed Kenny.
As the Raccoon put away his weapon into presumable hammerspace, a tense moment of silence fell upon the cast, awaiting what the blade had done.
"Oh man, what did he do? WHAT DID HE DO?" shouted Duckman, as he stared up at his head fearfully.
In a matter of minutes, Duckman's red scraggly hair fell apart into a straight wave, more reminiscent of his classic hairdo than the three, long upward strands of chicken combs atop his yellow head.
"Huh, that's not so bad," admitted Duckman, feeling up his hair once more.
"Just bill me the money if you-a win, or when I win." smugly added Raccoon.
Before Duckman could strike back, the Ninja Turtle and the Demon Slayer got up into the raccoon's face.
"Dude, that was SICK!" Leonardo squeed, stomping in place.
"Papa-san, you are masterfully adorable! Show me your ways and more of your strength, please!" Mitsuri cheered.
"Ah, thank you, kind frog and prostitute," Raccoon replied earnestly with a quick bow, to Leonardo and Mitsuri's shock and chagrin.
The next boat arrived, and a gruff-looking bearded man in orange-tinted glasses, a brown collared shirt, a green vest, green shorts, and even shorter black boots and socks, exited the boat carefully yet so grimly. He looks exactly like somebody you'd see huddled in a bowling alley somewhere.
"Yo, Walter Sobchak! What's up, man?"
"Thank you for allowing me to be onto your show. I know it's not only important for you, to have a Vietnam veteran present on a live television show about the different walks of life we all come from, but it is also important for me to extend my dabbling in pacifism. You have heard of 'Nam, right, McLean?"
"I haaave... skimmed it."
"Better get educated, kid," Walter added, getting into Chris' face before walking away.
"Oh yeah, I know he's gonna be trouble." went Chef, eyeing the bowler down.
As Walter walked close to the cast, he stopped in his tracks as he looked at the animated menagerie of animals, people, and animal people that made up the cast with a glance of realization and concern, before his sunglass-hidden eyes landed on Charlie, Anne, and Columbo.
"Aw thank Yahweh." He muttered as he jogged over to them.
"Walter, nice to meet ya." Walter went, out of breath, as he held out his hand for a handshake. "Needed to see a living breathing person around here instead of cartoon people."
"Likewise, I'm sure, my portly friend," added Columbo, reciprocating Walter's greeting offer.
"I know right!" Charlie quickly added in, realizing he was the third part of this two-way conversation.
"How come you not weirded out with all the, uhm, Looney Tunes running around here?" asked Walter.
"Yeah man, how come?" added Charlie. "I thought I was losing my mind when I first got here!"
"You see fellas, my wife, Mrs. Columbo, she always liked watching them cartoons during breakfast."
As the convo between the trio of photorealistic men fell out of earshot, Miyuki couldn't help but comment on the matter with Anne on her side.
"Look at that, two large, potbellied pigs." said Miyuki, looking at Walter, then looking at Peter, who was scratching his happy trail. "Those are two players in one."
"Heh, let's hope they can pull their weight around here," added Anne, causing the both of them to chuckle.
The two were interrupted by the horn of an upcoming boat, a completely charred one at that. On its bow was an Asian teen with long black hair marched off the boat with a concerned look painted over his mug. On his fit figure, a red, dark red, and dirty yellow tunic and pants, and most distracting, or notable of all, was a reddish scar over his right eye.
"Uhh, Prince Zuko, dude, what happened to your boat?"
"So, the uh, machine, moving the boat, gave out."
"Uh-huh."
"so I thought I'd push it myself."
"Uhm, how?" inquired Chris, throwing beady eyes at the fire prince.
"I decided to use my fire bending to lunge myself forward," He put a hand on the back of his head. "It took a couple tries, and a while for the waves to push me over."
"Gotcha. Step over there, please." Zuko's less-than-stellar look remained as he awkwardly marched from the wet sand towards the rest of the contestants.
Once he stood firmly in the sand facing his fellow competition, a small smile grew on his face, allowing these infamous words to escape from his mouth.
"Hello, Zuko here."
Everyone looked at each other before coolly and calmly saying 'hi' back or small waves.
This wasn't the case for Mitsuri, as the normally pale face of the Love Hashira was a bright red and in a look of concern. Said cause of concern was his scar, but the other infatuated part of her was the rest of his body.
"He-h-he's so—" Her thoughts echoed loudly in her head.
"Hot! You GOT to be on my team, buddy." went Leonardo, once again very needlessly leaning on somebody's shoulder. This time, it was Zuko.
"Uh, you got it, bud." Zuko muttered, getting flashbacks of his comrade Sokka back home.
Out of a dingy boat, stepped a stone-faced twenty-something, red hair and freckles sprinkled over her face, and her hands firmly in her green tracksuit pockets, black leggings, and black shoes that reached up to her ankles.
"Finally, somebody from the Great White North!" exclaimed Chris to her face, much to her irritacy. "Kim Pine!"
"Well, aren't you pleased as punch?" She replied with arms crossed, before refocusing her attention on the boat and the sea. "Hey, is this boat a physical manifestation of a subspace highway? I have a friend back home who uses those sorts of things. I think she was on the show as well."
"Hm, probably!" Chris replied, not understanding her inquiry in the slightest.
Kim stared sharply at the man before shrugging her shoulders, seemingly accepting that brief remark as an answer as she made her way to the rest of the collected cast.
Next off the boat, a black-haired Japanese woman, adorning a black-and black-and-green striped shirt. and white short shorts and green sandals. Across her back was a guitar case with a long, glisteningly silver katana duct-taped together. She politely bowed.
"Noodle! How are ya? Feeling good?"
"2D, Murdoc, and Russell-san all say: hello!" Noodle shouted, as she pulled out her guitar and did the sickest guitar riff with one flick of her guitar pick, a jaw-dropping display of over 30 years of musical excellence. Said pick depicted the open jaw of a sharp-toothed skeleton.
"Oh, man." Kim muttered, astonished.
"Aw geez, the fucking youth and their music!" Walter shouted, covering one of his ears.
"Sorry!" Noodle added, as she quickly hopped from the sand to the cast.
"Ahh, fellow katana user! Noice." Leonardo remarked, waving his katana around with one hand before re-placing it on his shoulder. "As you can see, we also got the skills to pay the bills, or in this case, cut the check." He said as he motioned to the Love Hashira behind him, who was beaming with pride, flexing her arms.
"Good to know." Noodle replied with a smile.
The very next boat arrived, dropping off an athletically built woman with a complexion as pale as her hair, decked in a revealing leather biker top, a very strange bikini-torn pant combo, and shiny black boots. She, with half-lidded eyes, stepped off the boat carefully.
"Hory crap! I think Imma in love!" exclaimed Raccoon, his nubbed hand over what is believed his heart would be.
As she exited her boat, feet firmly in the sand, she held up her pointer fingers over her head, similar to the horns of a bull.
"Hola, putos!" She rang delightfully.
Raccoon actively began drooling, prompting Kenny to advert his gaze from Angel's sweet... warlocks to the raccoon.
"Angel Torres, did it hurt when you fell from heaven?" went Chris, in an indistinguishably half-ironic, half-unironic way.
"No, but I know I'm gonna put the hurt on you later, guapo." flirted Angel, with a wink and her tongue sticking out.
Chris pulled on his collar to let the collective steam and sweet out from his neckline. "Ay, caraumba!"
Angel walked elegantly into the cast, causing Duckman to combust into a sweat and a stupid grin, garnering weird glances from Miyuki, Anne, and Yoko.
Suddenly with a sound reminiscent of a sonic boom, a raven-haired teen in a yellow and blue super-suit in a sonic boom practically zipped into existence, blowing sand, leaves, loose hair, and articles of clothing. Once the costumed figure stood still, he hovered elegantly over the cast, much to their astonishment.
"Holy shit!" cried Walter and Charlie cried in unison.
"You see that shit? We all see that shit, right?" asked Walter, flipping his head around and pointing at the man in the sky.
"I did, man! I did!" insisted Charlie.
"Unbelievable, a flying man!" cried Anne.
"Gosh darn it, Invinc-o'bill! Where is your boat!?" angrily exclaimed Chris.
"Sorry, man, I got a bit antsy, I just couldn't wait to be on the show!" He turned his neck to face the ocean behind him."I can go back and get it if you like."
"No, no, it's fine, Cinnamon is gonna give me crap for having his little dingies being off-course. Just, welcome to the show."
Mark floated down, his yellow boots touching the floor. "Hey, everyone." He went, waving kindly as he walked closer and inserted himself into this melting pot.
"Superheroes, eh?" Kim remarked. "Now we have definitely reached 'dork's wet dream' territory."
"Tell me about it, canuck." Duckman began. "My wet dreams are better written, acted, directed, lit, and produced than this."
Next off the boat, a man with long black hair, an x-shaped scar on his chin, a chain necklace with a lock at the end of it over a striped long sleeve under his torn black shirt, jeans, and reinforced metal shoes. His persona was absorbing all the coolness in the atmosphere, so it seems.
"Kevin E. Levin! Funny name, kick-butt hero. Welcome to our show!"
"Um, thanks," Kevin said, unsure what to make of Chris' odd comment regarding his name.
"Hopefully you won't feel too alienated around here."
"Alright, dude I'll get going before you make any more awful introductions."
"...Rude..." He muttered, causing Chef to stifle a laugh at Chris' expense.
Kim and Kevin locked eyes, keeping their stoic faces straight.
"Hey." Kevin went.
"Hey, every minute you stare is a dollar you owe me." went Kim, arms crossed.
"Heh, nice." Kevin smirked, liking the sassiness in the redhead.
Mitsuri was, once again, a bright red at the sight of another dark-haired, serious-faced hunk in her midst, shivering in place and clenching her sword hilt tighter.
"Whew, don't you have serious competition, huh, Dr. Teen Hearthrob?" Duckman noted, nudging Zuko with his elbow.
"Please stop talking."
The next boat arrived, dropping off a petite twenty-something woman who slowly slid from the bow and onto the sand. On her person was a mop of unkempt, curly, dark brown hair, a yellow long sleeve with white-to-dark orange stripes, a denim jean skirt that went down to her knees, and white kitten heel pumps.
"Kon'nichiwa, minna!" The homeroom teacher announced with a bow, though she stumbled a bit in holding her stance.
"Sadayo Kawakami, welcome to the show!"
"Thank you, Chris-san." She said, quite reserved. Her calm walking towards the rest of the cast turned into rough marches, and as it turns out trudging through beach sand in heels proved difficult. As she trudged further, kicking all matter of excess sand, she lost her balance and began plummeting backward the sand.
In a matter of moments, Kawakami was saved from embarrassment and humiliation on live television by someone with the ability to throw and catch a baseball tossed around the Earth's curvature.
"Oop, careful!" Mark added, his lenses shining in the sun. The hero held the teacher in a dip akin to two dancers, with his knee holding up her back as his boot was firmly dug into the sand. He properly helped her up to her feet.
"Oh, and who might you be, Mr. Spandex?" She asked with interest and a raised eyebrow.
"The name's Invin-"
"Alright, alright." Chris interrupted, shooing the two away. "Get a move on, we need space."
As Kawakami and Mark went back to the cast, Duckman got an up-and-down glance at the teacher.
"Say teach, I'm always open for private lessons," Duckman remarked, sticking his front teeth out goofily.
Kawakami's face turned sour, as she simply turned her head away and ignored the duck man.
Next off the boat, a slender, grayish black-haired Japanese woman wearing a semi-backless red off-shoulder sweater with black tights, a red skirt, and brown-heeled ankle boots. On her head, a white headband and a pair of dangling gold earrings in the shape of small spikes. She looked as if she didn't want to be there.
"Yor Forger! Thank you for forging your way into the show!"
"T-thank you, Chris-san." She said with a whimper and a bow, as she walked away from the boat, the sand, and the hosts. Concerned eyes, from the hosts to the contestants, remained on her.
"What's wrong, Mrs. Forger?" asked Fluttershy.
"I've never been this long from my family before, I already miss them so much! I'm just a normal housewife, y'know! They should've just asked my husband, Loid!"
"Uh-huh..." noted Miyuki, wondering why she'd mention that housewife part.
"Oh, I know how exactly how you feel. I was so scared to leave my friends and my animals back home, they mean the world to me. Heck, I'm still scared right now. But they and I both know that we can one hundred percent do this! We can do this! For ourselves or together with our soon-to-be new friends here. That's what life's all about!" went Fluttershy.
Kenny found himself clapping at Fluttershy's mini-speech. "Mmp mmph mpph mph, mphhf mmpf!"
"I sound like... butter?" asked Fluttershy.
Yor's red eyes were visibly watery, as she inhaled the snot from her nose.
"Thank you, uh...?" Yor went.
"Fluttershy."
"F-fluttershy." The assassin cried, pulling Fluttershy into a bear hug, taking her completely aback and nearly destroying her back.
"Wow, so many Asian delicacies around here!" exclaimed Duckman.
"Where? I don't see any Chinese food anywhe-Oh, you meant the women! Got it! Nyehehe!... you think she's a dish?"
Duckman facepalmed.
"You guys are disgusting." commented Walter.
Taking a page straight from Mark's book, an African-American teen in a yellow and blue skater jersey, helmet adorning red red-lensed goggles hovered from the water onto the shore in a matter of minutes, zipping around in a jetpack.
"Oh my Octobers, she's also flying in the air like a bird!" went Anne, a finger pointed at the moon child.
"That she is, red," added Columbo. "As a matta fact, there is a lot of you reds." He chuckled, looking at Kim and Yoko as well.
"Whaddup!" She hollered with every fiber of her being.
"Daww, come on, again? We spent money and time on those boats!" He sighed. "Supes, man! Never again! Our final arrival everybody, Moon Girl! Gosh!"
"...What that nicely-chiseled man said!" added Moon Girl, changing the subject by pointing at Chris.
"Yo yo yo! Are you another superhero?!" exclaimed Moon Girl, getting into Mark's face. "If so, I love your suit, Big I! Yellow and blue, you know how it do!" cheered Lunella, fist-bumping Mark who gladly accepted.
"Actually, I'm..." Mark grinned, visibly prepping the bomb of badassery he was finally about to unload. "Invincible."
She stared into Mark's gray lenses before bursting into a laugh. "Aha! I see you!"
"Twenty... Twenty-one... and twenty-two! Alright! Now that everyone is here and accounted for," Chris began, stealing the attention of this newly formed group. "Please report further into the shades for your mandated meal and more juicy important info." Chris looked at his wristwatch. "In one minute!"
In a camera flash transition, the cast has lined up closer amongst the palm trees to a circular section of sand where sand and shells meet dirt and trees. Along this cross-terrain border, a set of wooden tiki torches was illuminated to provide a cozy glow of light along this line where the shore began and the jungle resides. The blue skies before turned into a dark orange to purple sunset. An excellent display of light rays and color working in formed unison.
Chef Hatchet was tending to a grill, The grill, however, was a steel machine on a set of wheels. Nothing important or suspicious about it. At all.
"Due to the drastically different nature of this nature show, we have not only beefed up your food from summer camp slop to slightly better camping slop but our cast and crew as well, not only to garner more ratings but to properly monitor you weirdos. But mostly the former. Obviously, I am your host, Chris McLean." He began, putting his hands on his pocketed chest.
"Chef over there is my co-host but, after this evening, he will not be your Chef." He said before chuckling to himself at his wordplay, to which Chef looked sternly at him.
"...and introducing our technical advisor-slash-supervisor-slash-whatever for the very first time, fresh from Exclamation Point, U.S.A: Dr. Cinnamon J. Scudworth!" He exclaimed as he walked back with an open arm.
A geometrically shaped, balding middle-aged man with sharp glasses, a lab coat, and yellow dishwasher—er, scientist gloves walked from the darkness of the palms, a frown present on his face.
"Hey, Chris man! why couldn't I be co-host? While yes, I like setting up the pretty torches, the self-driving dinky boats, and the surveillance cameras to capture everything on this island for your silly little show but come on, man! We are both power-hungry figureheads! And, don't give me any of that intern bollschlocky either!"
"Say, Scudsy? Where's your adorable robot sidekick?"
The camera twisted over to show Chef's grill, now a blocky round robot with facial hair, and a whimsical red cardigan and blue bowtie, it was none other than the beloved robot icon, Mr. Butlertron, now with a steel tray sprouting from his flat head where his antenna would have been.
"More lighter fluid, Wesleyyyyy?" echoed his metallic voice, as he held up a bottle of lighter fluid in his iron claw (good movie). Chef smiled as he took the bottle and dumped it over the flame-brewing grill.
"Ohmadog, that grill's a robot?" shrieked Lunella, astonished.
"Honestly, Mr. B! Why would you do that to yourself?"
"I like to feel hot and uuuuuuuseful."
"You and me both, you weird little toaster oven." Duckman complimented.
"Wu-ho-ho! Zinger!" added Peter, pointing two fingers at the duck.
"This is some wonderful tea, Mr. B." softly complimented Fluttershy.
"Assuredly so!" Anne went, before taking a big swig from her cup.
"Thank you, Fluttershyyyyyy," said Mr. B, darting his eyes around before sneakily pouring more sugar into Fluttershy and Anne's cup, to which they giggled.
"Aw man, this is no Burger Mart cheeseburger, but this hits the spot!" exclaimed Mark, happily chowing down.
"Just ignore the sand I saw Chef dude over there sprinkle in." went Kevin.
"Haha, yeah—huh?"
"Nothing." Kevin slyly went, prompting Noodle, Duckman, and Peter to laugh at the superhero's expense, but caused Yor to spit out her mouthful of tea and fearfully check the contents of her sandwich.
"Burgers and tea? I mean I'm all for a nice burger, but I'm not exactly sure that's a healthy combination." went Kim, resting her cheek on her palm.
"Yeah, I'm more of a tea and pizza guy," said Leonardo, Kim sternly glancing at him.
"Well, I was gonna save this tidbit for later, but this will be the only meal we will provide you, so enjoy it while it lasts.
All the contestants stared blankly at the host or each other, prompting a few to start eating slowly in savory bites.
"So, are we getting seconds or...?" asked Peter.
"Now that we have you all together nicely fed and familiar with the staff, here's the deal."
"A nice, big FAT deal!" insisted Scudworth. "I'm talking that fool fat!" The high school principal went off, pointing a yellow-gloved finger at Peter.
"Psssh, I think he's talkin' about you," Peter whispered to Fluttershy. "Huh?"
Chris glanced frustrated at the mad scientist. "...right."
"This is Ha-Wawanakwa, a gorgeous island spot, where the sea conquers all and your home for the next several days."
"Huh, what a... weird name." Kawakami pondered.
"Got to give him points for the wordplay, though." added Kevin.
"And by several days, I mean approximately twenty-three long days and nights."
"All you are here for one reason or another, the thrill..." Leonardo, Noodle, and Yoko have cheeky grins or smirks on their face.
"...the cash prize..." Kevin's neutral frown turned into a smile, as did Peter, Charlie, and Duckman who rubbed their hands eagerly. Those are the exact words they all want to hear.
"... or to be finally happy with yourself or the world." This struck a chord with a lot of the more troubled contestants, who made faces of discomfort, realization, or a weary smile, namely Miyuki, Kawakami, and Fluttershy.
"BUT, to properly do so, you will have to survive in this tropical wilderness, which means absolutely no cabins, just you, your skills, and your wits with the infamous power of teamwork until you have to do it alone. It is up to you and your soon-to-be tribemates to survive during downtime. Around every night, the losing team will have the chance to eliminate, or vote out, a fellow contestant."
"Rinse and repeat every day and night until one of you here leaves ONE BILLION dollars rich, the others will just leave."
"Boom, suckaz!" exclaimed Scudworth, to stares, silence, and severe chirps of crickets.
"I thought that was coooooooool." added Mr. B.
"Instead of traditional outhouse confessionals, you will have to simply appear at this beachside and stare into the palm trees, where a camera can capture and record your confession."
"Sweet, my tic of looking at the camera after a killer one-liner can be validated." Leonardo went, as he stared lovingly at the camera, and technically the viewers, with a smolder.
"Any questions?" Chris asked, prompting the cast to look at each other and murmur to themselves or one another.
"When I call your name, please report to this side of the sand." He said, waving his sturdy left arm.
"Invincible... Columbo... Raccoon... Leonardo... Kawakami... Walter... Miyuki... Kenny... Anne... Yoko... and Angel... You will be the Living Lithium Tribe!"
Leonardo, Yoko, and Invincible fist-bumped one another in a perfect trifecta.
Columbo and Anne shook hands.
Kawakami threw a concerned glance at Miyuki and Kenny.
Walter, Angel, and Raccoon stared blankly.
"For the rest of you, Fluttershy... Zuko... Mitsuri... Peter... Noodle... Kevin... Moon Girl... Duckman... Yor... Kim... and Charlie... you will be the Heart-Shaped Boxes Tribe."
"D'aww!" Fluttershy, Yor, and Mitsuri cooed in unison, adoring their tribe name.
Noodle and Kim looked at each other and nodded.
Moon Girl flew up from behind the two ladies, flashing a red-gloved thumbs up.
Peter, Charlie, Zuko, Duckman and Kevin looked at each other with serious faces and crossed arms.
"Well, uhm, did you guys know Kurt Cobain is fat and dead in my universe?" interrupted Peter.
"Oh sweet! Mine too! Except he was skinny." added Charlie.
"No friggin' way!" Griffin giddily replied.
"You will be on the other side of the island, but allowed to traverse the island as you please, as will your opposite team, for now."
"Now that's that! Today is over, but tomorrow will be your first-ever elimination challenge. so, if possible. Get some rest!"
"Boxes, please follow me to your designated area of the island!" Chris said as he and Chef guided the aforementioned team. Meanwhile, Scudsworth and Mr. B walked ominously but intentionally backward into the night... away from the light... away from the cast.
"I like those guys." randomly added Charlie. "Tall one sounds like Dennis with an accent."
The Heart-Shaped Boxes began their migration, cutting the collective twenty-two into eleven.
"Bye, Leonardo-san!" Mitsuri called out to the ninja turtle, bowing politely.
"Good luck, everyone," Fluttershy announced in a surprising non-whisper, waving to the Lithiums. Leonardo was the only one to wave back.
"Eh, don't talk to them, toots. They are our competition now." insisted Duckman.
"Hey, turtle bro, do you really think we got this?" asked Miyuki, a hand on her hip. Yoko looked at the teenage runaway sternly, not one for backing down.
"Pfft, come on guys, it's reality television! How bad can it be?" snarked Leonardo.
DAY 0
With the sun having kissed the sky good night, the sand was a dark, mustard-yellow The deep navy blue waves moved slowly up and down the shoreline. 'Peaceful' and 'tranquil' doesn't even describe it.
Deep into the jungle, far away from where the campers currently lay, the camera swelled into a grass hut, one that towered amongst the trees. The room hidden inside offered quite an eyeful. The room was reminiscent of a military planning room, organized was its structure but tropical was its complexion. Scattered about were portraits, flat security monitors mounted onto a wall over a long desk, and shelves that held numerous trinkets recognizable from McLean's long decade-spanning career, such as a wooden carving of McLean's own head, a burnt light and turquoise-green puffball beanie with the name 'Ezekiel' handstitched into it, and a framed picture of a turquoise blue-haired mermaid laying seductively over a sandy beach, with 'See you soon' written on the glass in blood-red marker.
In the back of the room, a hammock strung against the wall was Chef Hatchet, currently whisked away in slumber with a novel, 'How to Sleep For Dummies', laid over his face.
Sat at this wooden desk in front of the barrage of lit screens with an accompanying rolling chair was Chris McLean.
"Welcome back! Did you enjoy your break? Finally, went to the bathroom and-slash-or got a snack? Great!"
"Now, that beautiful vista earlier today? One with the very description made your toes curl in vivid detail?" asked Chris. "Now, it's complete, fear-inducing darkness with the contestants of varying degrees of sanity left to their own devices that will only get worse as the season goes on."
"How fun!"
WITH THE LIVING LITHIUMS:
"Alright, alright!" Leonardo spoke up, walking into the frame with a collection of sticks in his swole forearms, proceeding to dump them in the medium-sized hole in the sand and dusted off his hands.
As he did, Mark, Kawakami, and Anne behind him exited the jungle with a thick collection of fallen leaves and bark that will be surely their makeshift bedding and covers for the night.
"Man, it's cold!" complained Kawakami, kneeling and dropping her leaves onto the sand. "How's the fire going, Leo?"
"Not the ideal set-up, but we got something good going here!" He added, using his katana to move the bundle of sticks like a chef would a tender piece of meat with a spatula.
"Thanks for your help, green." complimented Yoko, sitting down close to the sand pit. "Your confidence is helping us right now."
"Agreed." went Mark, Anne, and Kawakami in unison.
"Always good to have a beacon of support around." went Mark. "Lord knows we're gonna all need it."
"I know, wish that were me, y'know, being a teacher and all." somberly added Kawakami.
"Aw, it's no biggie, guys. You guys are all great, so far. Now, Big C, work your magic." Leonardo went, motioning to the detective.
Columbo pulled his lighter out of his trenchcoat pocket, "When there's smoke..." He tossed it into the pit, setting the collection of wood into a blaze.
"...there's fire." He pulled out another fresh cigar and put it in his mouth, allowing himself to lean over and place its' tip end into the flames, where it was swiftly lit.
"Siiiick" went Raccoon, amazed as was a comically wide-eyed Miyuki to his right, who was actively petting him like a cat.
"A rittle higher prease."
"Oop, sorry."
"This reminds me of being in the jungles of 'Nam, just us and the flames of the fire and our glory. At least this time around, my buddies won't be face down in the fucking mud." went Walter, with Angel to his right.
"Hot." Angel joked.
"This is a serious matter, lady."
"Now, everyone, let's try to get some rest and, because I like you guys, I will be keeping watch, so no vicious predators attack as we sleep."
"Or the other tribe." snarked Miyuki.
"Hmm... er... uhmm... too early to say!" insisted Leonardo, not wanting such an idea to be true.
"Hey, don't leave me out!" interrupted Yoko, brushing up against the turtle. "We'll take shifts."
Leonardo's sharp grin returned, the largest it ever was. "Red and blue, what it do!" He cheered as they pulled each other into an epic handshake.
WITH THE HEART-SHAPED BOXES:
The camera snaps to a sandy pit on the other side of the island, one with all very thick logs next to small thin sticks, organized so in an aesthetically pleasing tower of firewood.
"Alright, from what I've studied at home," Lunella began, internally scrolling through the contents of her helmet. "This is the bonfire structure that will guarantee to last us through the night, sadly, without any Childish Gambino to play while we built it."
"Shout out to Yor and Noodle, BTW. We wouldn't have all this sick wood without their wickedly combined tree-destroying skills. She announced, prompting Yor and Noodle to wave kindly and energetically with said hand and weapon.
"Hey, I helped too!" Kevin began, before turning into a jokey smirk. "Kinda."
"Ay man, who helped us find the finest wood ready by becoming wood? You did!" She exclaimed happily, flying up to Kevin and giving him a high five.
"And what about me, where's my compliment?" asked Peter.
"Yeah, what—what about us?" begged Charlie. The two were currently playing thumb wars with each other and have been since they arrived at the site.
"You guys are the, uh, guard dogs and uh, jokers! Y'know comedians. Keep morale, defend us from ravenous crabs."
"...Well, I like the sound of that!" Peter said, turning to Charlie. "Crabs, especially lobsters, are assholes!"
"Yeah, me too. That sounds great!"
"Idiots." snarked Duckman.
"American idiots. An undefeatable brand of idiot. No offense, Lunella." added Kim.
"None taken!"
"Well, I think you all did great." went Fluttershy, her head, arms, and legs tucked deep into her jacket.
"Thank you, jaundice girl." genuinely complimented Peter, placing a fatherly hand on her shoulder.
"Alright, Zuko, now's your time to gu-oh!" chanted Lunella, jerking her thumb behind her and at the bonfire.
With a grunt and swift, beautiful movement reminiscent of dancing and martial arts rolled into one, Zuko launched a fireball from his enclosed fist and into the pit, erupting the scientifically proven, neat collection of bark into flames and allowing a vibrant orange glow to emit and fill the area, as did warmth. And, like lowly moths to an electric light, the group scooted and huddled around the pyrokinetic-powered fire.
"So, THAT'S how you burned your boat." dryly noted Duckman, the reflection of the flickering flames visible in his glasses.
"Boy, aren't we glad we got the fire guy! Nyehehehe!" Peter remarked, his shoulders rocking with his laugh, as he scooted even closer to the fire with his hands held out, a la a homeless person... or Miyuki.
"Hmm." Zuko murmured, unsure of what to make up for the nickname 'fire guy.'
Mitsuri, however, was still in a trance, her already wide apple-green eyes even wider as they remained locked onto Zuko.
"Uh, is she okay?" The prince asked concerned, a finger directed at his pink-and-green-haired, not-so-secret admirer.
Mitsuri squeaked in response, falling onto her left stiffly like a plank of wood.
"Man, I wonder what's going on with our lady samurai pal." Lunella remarked, throwing smug eyes at Zuko.
"Aw, don't sweat it, Zuko-san." Noodle comforted with her soft, surprisingly British accent, "You will help us, what's the word? ignite the competition?"
"Yeah, man! With our boy Zuko around, we got a headstart, or should I say, fire-starta!" joked Lunella.
"Uh, thanks, guys."
DAY 1
It was now morning, the sun had risen to set yet another day into motion. The fire and the flames of last night took their last breath.
"Attention, staylongers! You have two hours to make your preparations and to attend today's challenge! It's quite the doozy!"
WITH THE HEART-SHAPED BOXES:
Fluttershy, already long awake and floating about the long leaves of the palm trees, tending to the nearby woodpeckers and palm warblers, had her head turned to the loudspeaker. She promptly flew back to her campsite with the rest of her team, minus Charlie, fast asleep.
"Morning everyone, I am happy to report the animals here are just as kind as the ones back in Ponyville." went Fluttershy.
"Ay, that's nice." groggily complimented Charlie.
"Huh? Are you okay, Charlie? Did you have a bad dream?"
"No, no, actually, I had this wicked bird dream because y'know," He put his hands on his chest. "Best goddamn bird lawyer in the world."
"That sounds wonderful. I'd love to visit Bird Court one day."
"No, you would NOT last a day in there, because bird law, in my country, is not governed by reason. They would eat you alive."
"Hmm." She hummed, taken aback by his warnings.
As she flew around, placing fallen leaves around her waking castmates, so did a small barrage of tropical animals, from capybaras to toucans to frogs, exiting from the jungle and placing food over said leaves. "The animals agreed to help collect food for you all. Nuts, fruits, berries, but most especially of all: the coconut." She held the hairy plant up in the air like it was a long-lost treasure or a lion cub before placing it on a leaf.
"Hey, thanks, Flutters." thanked Kim, as she grabbed the coconut and swished it before taking a big swig of its milk.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
CONFESSIONAL:
"Hmm, you know, I thought Fluttershy would be the weakest link, given how kind of jumpy and like saccharine she is, but she really proved herself this morning. Then again, should've gotten that from all the friendship talk she preaches," said Kim.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
"Hey, Bashful, you think we can try one of your animal friends? That coconut dog over there looks quite tasty," asked Duckman, pointing to a capybara.
"Good Celestia, no!"
"Alright, just asking. Emergency rations and all that junk."
"Mmm, mutated guinea pig." happily mumbled Peter.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
CONFESSIONAL:
"So, uh I, just kind of, uhm, took a crap right, ova there after we ate," he pointed downward to his left. "and I uh, didn't realize if you stare into the jungle the confessional turns on..." said Peter. "Man, this is more awkward than the time Marty McFly ate too many Twinkies."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
WITH THE LIVING LITHIUMS:
Leonardo, last seen appointed as on duty, was sound asleep, completely with a comically large snot bubble and snoring loud enough to rival a grizzly bear. On his right shoulder, almost snuggling up with him, was Yoko who similarly was sound asleep.
"HUUHA-FUJAH," Leonardo scatted, startled awake and frantically pointing his katana in all sorts of directions. Yoko comically slid off his shoulder and fell face-first into the sand. "Are we okay? Is everyone okay? We're all still alive?"
"Si, man," said Angel with a thumbs up from her gloved hand, she was sat cross-legged by their fire-pit, now dug two feet deeper, and had a makeshift spit built over it. She was, however, covered in a concerning amount of blood from above the belt.
Leonardo's lips perked down, in a display of surprise and intrigue. "You didn't uhhh..."
"...Oh!, no, no, I thought I'd do tu pobre cosas a favor and get started on breakfast." Angel retorted, scooting over to reveal heavily dissected salmon, crabs, and coconuts. "This is the part where you say: muchas gracias, mami!" She finished, with a high-pitched, almost mocking tone.
"...Er, great! Much ass, grass ass! Can you pass me a coconut and not the head of the fish? I don't want to look into something's eyes while I'm biting into it."
Angel's smile continued as she tossed over the two requested items at the turtle, who caught them and began juggling them.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
CONFESSIONAL:
"While la tortuga ninja is cute, he is, how you say, very estupid." remarked Angel. "I like that in a man, so I will have a close eye on him for... future use."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
CONFESSIONAL:
Leonardo was simply making smolders and action poses at the camera, in a attempt to be cool. "Is this suave enough, dear audience?"
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
...
Further in the trees and farther away from the shore was a hill, one Chris and the rest of the cast comically dubbed Mount Hatchet. A steep, treacherous path that still looked somewhat walkable uphill.
At the bottom of this hill, were two sets of large boulders, . A little ways back from the rollable rocks was a line of lounge chairs in a corner tucked away from the trees and away from the rock's would-be pathline, and farther away from the chairs was the big blue and its gorgeous sandy shore. One cohesive path of rocky hill, luscious greenery, hot sand, and cold water.
Two of the lounge chairs were taken up by Scudworth and Mr. B, all now adorning extremely fashionable summer swimwear, while the third and fourth seats were empty of a resting bum.
Chef walked into frame as did Chris, followed soon after by the collective two teams of the Boxes and the Lithiums, either groggily due to the sleeping conditions or with a pep in their step due to living in the gift that is the present day.
Chef took his seat next to Mr. B, "We got everything set up for ya, Chris man. Are you ready?
"Yeah, dude, bring it!" added Scudworth, unnecessarily.
Chris sat down on his beach chair, in his beach attire, with a very peachy look on his face.
"Let the games begin."
TO BE CONTINUED ...
And that concludes the first part of our first episode! Hope you enjoyed this little aperitif before the first-ever challenge chapter. This was a long time coming so it's been nothing but a pleasure having this properly cooked out and out here.
A tremendous thank you once again to NondescriptNorbert, Memeking, G-Man, and everyone else who believed in and stuck around for the ride, pre-and-post the series' numerous rewrites. I strive to make this fic one of the most unique and cozy offerings ever. It's gonna be tongue-in-cheek, it's gonna be dramatic, it's gonna be TOTAL. DRAMA. NIRVANA.