The theme song plays over an intro sequence.
The first shot depicts Wawanakwa in full, leading up to a giant cliff and zooming past McLean as he sips a coffee before diving into the water below the cliff.
Dear Mom and Dad, I'm doing fine.
You guys are on my mi-
The theme song slows down, the typical intro charred, the photo going negative before it burns away to a crisp. The screen goes black and white, the camera panning to the big, black shoes of a preposterously giant man.
The camera fades out, a woman screaming as a loud, boisterous orchestra blares loudly, the lumbering giant in full frame now. He's wearing a hockey mask, a chainsaw in his hands. One of his hands, however, has been completely replaced by a shiny, sharp hook. He screeches like a primal ape, the chainsaw revving in his arms, blood stained into his apron before a fresh coat of gore stains the screen.
The contestants sit on stumps by a rock wall, a projector behind them casting the picture of the movie onto a screen in front of them. The equipment is labeled Waning Bros. Duncan, Gwen and Izzy lean forward, excited at the bloodbath on screen.
Heather cringes at the kill, but seems mostly unbothered, while Owen is at the edge of his seat to see what happens next. DJ flinches, closing his eyes to block his mind from turning the flick into a nightmare for later, while Geoff sits back in amusement. Eva is frozen solid, an uncomfortable look on her face.
"He just splattered her guts all over the wall! That is SO cool!" Izzy exclaims, shaking her fists excitedly.
"Oh no! Psycho killer man's going for the car!" Owen yelps, a bag of popcorn in his lap. He sits next to Izzy.
"Ugh, this is so stupid.." Heather mutters, crossing her arms. Yet, curiosity bites at her, and she peaks at the screen.
"They're gonna be chainsaw sushi!" Izzy giggles, but gets cut off just like the couple in the movie. They let out screams of horror as they're sliced and diced by the maniacal teeth of the chainsaw's blade, everyone but Duncan and Gwen totally freaked out by the sweet practical effects.
Owen jumps out of his seat. "Great Canadian cheese!" he falls to his knees, his popcorn spilling. "Now the car won't start!"
"Oh man.. I hate scary movies." DJ says, covering his face.
"Run, the psychos gonna get ya!" Izzy yells at the screen, standing hunched over in anticipation as the protagonist of the film sprints down a long dirt road from the old family house of the killer dude. DJ gasps, hiding his head in his seat.
"Here comes the blood fest!" Gwen shouts, standing up to witness the best kill of the movie in all its gorey glory. Duncan copies her, cheering alongside her at the spectacle. Geoff, Izzy and Owen also react positively, while Eva, Heather and DJ look away, the latter of which trembling.
"Awwwhahaa! Gross!" Duncan exclaims.
"Absolutely grody! So sick." Gwen parrots.
"So gross!" Heather scoffs. Police sirens echo from somewhere far away. The Psycho Killer takes notice, walking away.
"Aw, the chainsaw psycho's going back to the woods! He's getting away! Good ending!" The movie ends, displaying the director's name before the projector cuts out. Izzy jumps into Owen's arms after he's sat back down, holding him. "Izzy loves scary movies!"
"So does Owen..~" The big man replies, looking down at her sensually. He looks up to see Duncan, Geoff and even the cowering DJ peaking up to give him a thumbs up.
"Woo.. Am I ever glad that's over. I hate scary movies." DJ says, sitting down, his heart in his ears.
"Same here. I can't pin it, they're just so.. Just.. Eugh." Eva replies, shivering.
Duncan smirks. "Oh yeah? What scares you most, the uh, part where everyone meets a grizzly death?" He feigns choking himself. "Or the psycho killer with a hook?!" He brandishes the old hook gag, scaring the pants off DJ and Eva. The two of them jump into each other's arms like a Scooby-Doo gag, the others laughing at them.
Gwen collects the tape from the projector, putting it back in the gloriously bloody CD case, the killer's hockey mask displayed on the cover. "Aw, come on, Deej, it wasn't that bad. For a slasher flick, it was pretty tame."
"Yeah, there was hardly any hacking until the end. Not like: Bloodbath 2: Summer Camp Reign of Terror!" Duncan exaggerates his voice, doing an impression of the trailer's title drop.
Gwen gasps. "No way, that's my favorite movie! I love when the killer jams that guy's hand into the lawn mower!" She acts the scene out, forcing her hand to be still before pantomiming the pulling of a cord. DJ's eyes go wide, watching her hand with disgust.
"Hah! Or when he pushes the chick off the dock, and then she lands on a propeller blade that slices her in half!" Duncan cuts through the air to mimic the scene, making Eva shuffle back with scared eyes.
"Or when he shoves that big dude's head inside the wood chipper!" The punk and goth combo reminisce in unison, their hands turned to claws as they prey on DJ and Eva's fear of horror. Eva stands up and walks away.
"I have to use the bathroom." She speaks hoarsely, heading for the outhouse. Duncan and Gwen chuckle, high fiving. DJ shakes his head, hugging himself.
"Aww, looks like Gwen and Duncan have more in common than just bad fashion sense. It's just mindless guts and gore." Heather replies, sarcastic and mocking. Gwen and Duncan glare at her.
"Horror movies are not mindless." Gwen states firmly.
"Yeah, they're loaded with psychological trauma Hah, look at DJ." He gestures toward his tree of a friend, still shaking like a leaf. He stands up, pretending to act cool.
"Look, I may have been afraid of snakes, and water-"
"And psycho killers whispering your name in the night, supposedly." Geoff adds. DJ glares at him as if to say 'really, dude?' "Uh.. oh, sorry, man."
"Wait, you heard someone whispering your name?"
"It was just an owl! Though, I could have sworn.."
The sound of a boat engine starting up around the Dock of Shame a few yards away interrupts DJ's train of thought. The contestants, curious, walk towards the dock to see what's up. Bags of luggage sit below a frantic Chris and Chef, who are tossing them onto the boat as quickly as they can.
"What are they doing?" Heather asks.
"Let's find out." Duncan replies, walking towards the duo. "Yo, Chef, where's the fire?"
Chef gasps, diving onto the Boat of Losers. Chris takes his hand and jumps in with him, dropping a green backpack behind him. The two look more terrified than they ever have before. Chris runs toward the driver's seat and puts the Boat of Losers in drive, sailing away as fast as he can. The other campers walk over to the dock to see what's up.
Owen notices the can on the ground and picks it up. "Uh, they forgot this." He says, everyone's eyes resting on him. A newspaper falls out of the bag and onto the dock, sprawled out in full. The headline is clear.
Escaped Psycho Killer On The Loose!
Gwen picks it up and reads further. "Be on the lookout for a tall, burly man wearing a hockey mask with a hooked hand, carrying a chainsaw." DJ's teeth chatter harder the more she reads, the others looking uncomfortable yet inquisitive.
Izzy grins. "Oooh, he's on the loose!"
Heather scoffs. "Oh come on! They don't expect us to fall for this. First Chris lends us a scary movie to watch supposedly because he feels bad for the last challenge, then the hasty exit right after we're finished said movie, followed by strategically placed lame prop?
"I-I dunno.. They looked really scared." DJ replies, stammering.
"Puh-lease. It's all part of their little stunt to freak us out for ratings." The queen bee protests.
Owen scours the bag, his face turning pale as he feels a cone shaped object between his fingers. "If this was a stunt, would Chris leave behind his… hair gel?!" He pulls the patintend McLean hair gel out, stunning everyone.
"Holy crap.. This is real!" Gwen stammers. Eva returns to the cast, finally finding them at the dock.
"Hey, what did I miss? Why does everyone look so freaked out?" She asks.
"Chris left us for dead! There's an escaped psycho killer with a chainsaw on the loose!" DJ yelps. Eva looks just as stunned as the others, her facial expression unmoving, like a deer in headlights.
"Relaaax, dude! We gotta keep our wits about this! H-Heather's probably right, this probably is just some really sick challenge." Geoff says, not entirely convinced himself.
"I'm sorry.. I just- I feel like we're being watched." DJ stutters.
"Duh, it's a reality show. We're always being watched." Heather responds, hands on her hips.
"Well, whatever. Challenge or real, we need a game plan."
"Y-yeah, a game plan..! Good call, Gwen." Eva says, uncharacteristically freaked.
"Ooh, a game plan run by Gwen? This oughta be good. Does it involve ramming me off a dirt road? Maybe shredding my clothes to pieces?" Heather questions bitterly.
"I don't have time to get angry at you right now, Heather. Frankly, my life is worth more than your bullshit. Come on, everyone who wants to live can follow me." Gwen states, walking away from the long haired witch.
"Ugh! This isn't a real situation! It's all for internet clicks! Think about it!" Heather yells, abandoned by everyone as they walk away from her and follow Gwen. "Ugh! Fine. I'm taking a shower. If you wanna be more mature, find me in the communal washroom." She walks away.
"Ooh, and the bossy mean chick seals her fate. Keeeeewwwwy!" Izzy makes a cutting motion with her hand on her neck.
"Wow.. you're really good at making sound effects." Owen dotes.
"Alright, team, let's head to the bonfire where there are little to no walls and talk strategy." Gwen orders, leading the charge.
"Sounds good to me." Duncan replies.
"Yeah, real good!" DJ adds.
But as the group heads in the direction Gwen travels, Izzy's arms wrap around Owen's, stopping him in his tracks. The crazy girl tugs on his arm, and as scared as Owen is of being cut into little bits.. His wood takes over his brain and makes him follow wherever she's dragging him.
The full moon is finally set in the sky, glistening down its rays on Izzy and Owen as they walk through the woods they were just biking through the other day.
"Hah.. so that's how Owen won the Hotdog-athon. Owen ate two hundred dogs. Well, one hundred ninety-eight. They wouldn't count the last two on account of the dogs squirting back up Owen's nose." He chuckles.
"Wicked! Izzy's impressed!" Izzy smiles.
Owen looks around. "Hey, uh.. Where are we going?"
Izzy shrugs. "Izzy's walking in the woods!"
"Oh.. cool. Hm. Woods. The woods. Huh. Why does that feel wrong?" He stops, stroking his double chin. From the trees, something lurks, watching the two. It breathes heavily.
At the bonfire, a fire is lit. Duncan, DJ, Eva and Geoff sit on logs around it, while Gwen stands next to an easel, no doubt her own, a marker in her hand.
"Okay, rule number one," She flips the first page, a picture of Heather with x's over her eyes on it. "Never go off on your own. Rule number two," She flips the next page, a drawing of Wawanka's forest on display. "If you DO go off on your own, never go into the woods. Rule number three," The last page displays a drawing of two lips smacking against each other. "If you do go in the woods, never, ever make out in the woods!" She looks between the survivors. "Wait.. where are Owen and Izzy?"
"Breakin' rules one through three." Duncan quips.
Deep in the woods, Owen carries Izzy uphill, the vine-clad girl playing bongos on his head.
"Hah.." He pants, sweat stains under his pits. "Does this feel wrong to you?"
"No, your head's good and hollow, so it's got a good beat. Plus, all your yacking is keeping my mind off of the escaped psycho killer with a chainsaw and a hook!" Her voice goes deep and ominous, just before Owen accidentally bucks her to the floor, gasping.
"Great balls of fire! That's it! The psycho killer! Remember how he left into the woods to hack apart the couple who were making out?!" Owen shrieks.
"But we're not making out." Izzy points out.
"Oh.. oh yeah."
"...You wanna makeout?"
Owen's eyes sparkle. "YES! Oh, come here." He leans down, only for Izzy to grab him by the collar and jump into a nearby bush with him, their lips colliding in a passionate make out session.
Just a few meters away, a tall, dark, menacing figure with a hook for a hand stalks them. His breathing catches their attention, their makeout sesh shortly lived. Owen and Izzy peek out from behind the bush as his chainsaw revs, a growl coming from the main. Owen, with orange lipstick all over his face, screams, sprinting out of the bush. Izzy is right behind him, catching up to him shortly after.
After two minutes of running seemingly endlessly from the killer, who's still hot on their heels with a mean sprint and an evil look in his soulless, dark eyes, Owen speaks up. "Ah! W-why does this feel so much longer and flatter than how we came up here?!"
"That's because horror movies extend the running scenes!"
"Really? Why?"
"It gives them time to film a good wipeout!" Just as she shouts this out, Owen trips over his own two feet, all the way down a long, long cliff. He lands on his head, his butt, his sack, his arm, his leg, he lands on a fire extinguisher, a goat's horns, a stack of dynamite that explodes as he falls further down, and eventually, he falls on the floor below. Izzy watches, bending her knees to do so. The sound of a chainsaw forces her to think quickly. "Owen, I'm coming!"
She jumps down, repeating the same fall. The killer looks down, noticing a flight of stairs next to the cliff. By the time Izzy lands on Owen, after landing on all of the same traps as he did, the killer is on the floor with them, raising his chainsaw above his head like a tusken raider out of Star Wars. Izzy and Owen stare at him, fearful. Owen stands up, Izzy doing the same.
"Owen's too young to die!" he cries out, shielding himself fearfully. "Here, take Izzy!" He pushes his so-called lover into the killer's range, her eyes dilated as her life flashes before her eyes. Owen runs away, leaving the two alone, his arms flailing and his mouth screaming. He runs for a tent he spots nearby and dashes inside, a room full of monitors, a computer, office chair and none other than the host himself, Chris McLean occupying the interior of the tent. He stops dead in his tracks as Chris spins the chair around to look at him.
"Dude! Dude! There's a guy with a hockey mask, and a chainsaw, and a hook! And he's after us, and-"
The killer carries Izzy by her crop top, not chopping her up into little bits on one of the monitors. Owen points at it. "Yeah! There! That's him right-"
The killer comes into the tent, tossing Izzy onto the floor with ease. Owen screams for his life. "AHHHHH! We're totally dead!" Chris puts an end to this, slapping his hand against his mouth.
"Owen, stop screaming, it's Chef! This is the production tent."
Chef, cosplaying the killer from the movie, takes off his mask, sweat sticking to his forehead. He smirks, proud of his acting chops. Izzy can't help but laugh. "Oh cool! Hahahaha! You really- really had me there. You would have killed me!"
"You.. you punked us?" Owen questions.
"Yes and no. Today's challenge is to survive a real life horror movie. Even scarier, it's a purge challenge. Whoever gets scared the worst is automatically eliminated."
"Oh. Ooooooh. Hahahahaha! That is just.. You really had me there." Owen wraps his arm around Izzy, who immediately glares at him. "Did you hear that? Just a.. Stupid.. Challenge. Uh.. Izzy's mad about the whole pushing her into the psycho killer's way thing, isn't she?" Izzy nods. "Oh.. Well, uh, Owen's still getting to third base, right?" Izzy shakes her head. "Oh. Is he getting up to ba-" Izzy socks him in the face.
"So far, you guys did pretty bad, but you ended up outrunning Chef for a while there. Let's see how the others fair." Chris tells the couple, grabbing a bottle of water. "Great job out there, dude, stay in character. Maybe work the whole hook hand angle a bit more." Chris says, squirting the bottle into the killer's mouth. Chef nods, staying quiet as he pulls down his mask and exits the production tent,
Back at the bonfire, Gwen uses her drawings of the caricatures she drew back when Trent was still in the game to depict the survivors on Wawanakwa. She crosses out Owen and Izzy. "Great, now that we have a visual representation of all the players, we can-" She turns to see that Geoff and DJ are completely absent, leaving only Duncan and Eva. "Where are Geoff and DJ?!"
"Uh, DJ had to take a leak, so he took party boy with him." Duncan answers.
"I am really glad I went beforehand." Eva says, sighing with relief.
"I'm surprised you're so scared, Eva." Gwen says.
"I'm not! I just.. Really don't wanna die." She replies defensively.
"Hey, not that I have much of a conscience, but Gwen, in case we don't make it out of this, you should know something about me and Heather." Duncan starts, scratching the back of her neck.
"You and Heather? Oh god." Gwen rolls her eyes, the very thought making her queasy.
"Not like that. It's dumber than that." Duncan replies.
Gwen sighs. "..Okay, spill it."
Chef hides behind some bushes by the communal washroom, watching as Geoff and DJ arrive at the bathroom. He peels back the bush with his hook, remaining in the shadows.
"Okay, no matter what, you do not leave! Not if you hear a psycho, not if you see a psycho! Not if a psycho is slashing you to bits! You hear me?" DJ questions.
"Relax, dude, I got your back." Geoff answers, chill as always.
DJ nods, heading inside the bathroom. Geoff leans against the wall and whistles to himself.
From the production tent, Chris smirks. "Cue the ice cream truck." He pushes a button. Back at the washroom, a light hearted, clownish jingle plays on a loudspeaker close by. Geoff perks up immediately.
"Ice cream? No way!" He immediately gets distracted and walks toward the noise, leaving DJ behind.
DJ shivers, turning around toward the bathroom. The creaking of a door startles DJ. "H-hello..?" A click and a buzz, similar to a saw, comes on right after. He gasps, frozen solid. He sees Heather shaving her leg with an electric razor, his fears solemnly stowed for a second. That is, until he looks up to see the green, pale, melting texture of her face, her body draped in a towel. DJ howls, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"DJ, relax, it's me!" Heather shouts, turning off her razor before walking up to him. He flinches back, barely able to remain conscious, a rush of adrenaline hitting him as he runs through the wall, leaving a DJ sized hole. He runs around the entire island, even underwater, before sprinting into the production tent and right into Izzy, who slaps him out of his trance.
Heavily breathing, he looks around erratically. Chris walks up to him, grinning. "Dude, you're safe."
"I am?" He breathes a sigh of relief. A hook hand offers him a water bottle, which he takes. Then he realizes the killer is in here with him and he nearly starts screaming again. Izzy covers his mouth.
"It's just Chef. He was gonna scare the bejesus out of you, but it looks like Heather beat him to it. Gotta say, not looking good for you challenge wise."
"Dude, did you see her face? I was already on edge, and I didn't know it was a challenge, and-"
"Enough! I get it. It's cool. Chef, get back out there, dude." Chef once again exits, while Chris sits down in his chair to watch the screens.
"Wait.. so that was Chef the other night, chanting in the woods?"
"Huh? I dunno, maybe. What was he saying?"
"He just kept repeating my name over and over, and talking about my momma."
"Uh… that's weird. He was with me all week. I mean, we play chess at night, you know." Chris blushes, drumming his fingers against the desk awkwardly. "Uh.. yeah. Anyway, Probably just an owl. We get those sometimes."
Back at the washroom, Gwen runs through the open wall, frantic. "Are you okay?! I heard screaming!" She shouts. Heather is startled, but simply stands up straight.
"I'm fine. But you might wanna check on DJ. He ran off like a bat out of hell when he saw me. Can I have my shower in peace, please?"
"Ooh, I wouldn't do that if I were-" Heather glares at her. Gwen shrugs. "You know what? It's your funeral." She walks out, heading back to camp. Heather opens the shower stall, discarding her towel before stepping inside and closing it behind her. She turns the valve, water splashing against her skin.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Hellllooooo, I'm in the shower!" Heather yells back. Nothing.
Knock, knock, knock.
"Eugh. Very funny, Duncan. Now get lost."
Rrrrrrrrmmmmmmm!
Heather feels a chill run down her spine, her eyes widening. She grabs her towel from the stall wall and wraps it around her body, emerging from the stall to confront the D man. "I'm serious, Duncan, get l-" The towering psycho killer raises his hook, his chainsaw revving by his side as he cackles devilishly. Heather screams, unable to move.
At the production tent, she rocks back and forth in her towel, her exfoliation mask still on her face. Chris watches her with amusement. "Maybe if you actually paid attention to the scary movie, you'd know that A. You never go off alone, and B. You definitely never shower alone."
When Gwen returns, she immediately notices that only one camper remains: Duncan. He's attempting to light a stick on fire with his lighter, clearly trying to keep himself occupied.
"Where's Eva?" She asks with concern.
"She got all freaked out, so she went to the cabins to pick up her boxing gloves." Duncan clarifies, looking up into the pasty goth's eyes.
"Ugh! Doesn't anyone listen to me?!"
"Well, hey, look, now that we're alone, can I tell you what was on my mind?" Duncan quits lighting to focus on the rough conversation ahead.
"You might as well." She replies, crossing out Geoff, DJ, Heather and now Eva too before sitting down across from him.
"Don't be pissed."
"Too late."
"At me."
Gwen closes her eyes, then opens them in preparation. "Try me."
Shamefully, Duncan hugs his knees and sighs. "...I had a hand in what happened between Heather and Trent."
"You what?!"
He holds his hands up in defense of himself. "It wasn't like that! I wanted Trent gone after the guys' reward, because he was threatening to leak some sensitive information to Courtney."
"To Courtney?! What secret information?" Gwen barks.
"He.. ah.. He saw me flirting with this groupie fan chick and showing myself off at the party, so-"
"Seriously? That's the information?"
"It's fucking embarrassing, Gwen. Plus, if Courtney saw that, she'd dump me. No question. She's no nonsense."
Gwen plants her face in her hands. "Ugh, whatever! You told Heather to kiss him?"
"No, I asked Heather if she could help me get him eliminated. And then she asked me in return to vote off LeShawna in the next episode. I asked her how she was gonna get Trent voted out, and she kept me in the dark. By the time it had happened, I figured, 'wow, this guy's a piece of shit.' so.. Yeah."
"So let me get this straight: Heather helped Trent cheat on me so that you could get away with cheating?"
"I didn't cheat on Courtney! I flirted with a chick, and nothing happened. She asked to kiss me, I said no, and then we went our separate ways. That's it, I mean it."
"Dude, we could die today. Are you sure you're telling the truth?"
"Yes! I'm a lot of things, a crook, a bad son, a thief, a pyro, but I am always straight with people. That's why I wanted you to know. I'm sorry." He mutters that last part, looking down at the ground.
Gwen sighs, digging her sharp nails into her legging-clad thighs. "...In a weird, fucked up way, I'm glad you were able to get him out. If he were still around, I'd be entirely focused on him, I'd be having anxiety attacks out the ass and my game would be totally messed up. So, fuck you Duncan, and.. Thank you, Duncan. I accept your apology."
He slowly looks up, embarrassingly rubbing his mohawk. "Uh.. you're welcome, I guess. What do we do now?"
"I guess we wait to see if Eva comes back." Gwen replies, one leg crossing over the other.
"I'm gonna try to call the pigs." He pulls his phone out, but the device won't turn on. "Ah, great, forgot to charge it."
"Don't worry, I got it." Gwen takes out her own phone, a purple case encapsulating it. "One bar. Let's hope this goes through."
Eva shuffles through her duffel bag in the girls' cabin, frantic. She made sure to close the door behind her and keep all the lights off, using her phone's flashlight to search the bag on her knees. "Come on, come on.."
Just outside, Chef watches through the window, breathing heavy through his mask. Of course, McLean never gave the campers locks to their cabins, so Eva was completely exposed aside from the closed door. She finally finds the pair of red boxing gloves, squeezing them against her chest. "Thank god! Okay.." She puts the gloves on, using her teeth to tighten them up around her fists. Just as she stands up to leave, the sound of a chainsaw revving makes her stop and turn toward the door.
"B-bring it on!" She yells weakly, standing in a traditional boxing pose. Chef's chainsaw collides with the door, cutting a large hole in the middle before his boot swings into it, breaking it down.
"Eva-Eva-Eva Boxing-Boxing-Boxing!" A voice that isn't quite Chef's whispers, the killer growling before slowly walking toward her. Eva shivers, her form getting weaker and weaker until she dives through the window behind her, thankfully it was open. She tactically rolls into the woods, running like a chicken with its head cut off into the production tent. She stops dead when she sees her fellow contestants and Chris casually watching.
"W-what the?! You're all alive?!" Everyone turns toward her, with Chris chuckling.
"Yup! Nice job getting away from the killer, Eva. Major props for that leap of faith out the window." He shoots finger guns her hyperventilating way, her eyes bugging out every which way.
"What.. what are you talking about, you sick puppy?!" She yells, exaggerating her hand movement.
"Relax, Eva! It's just a challenge! There is no escaped psycho killer with a chainsaw and a hook." Izzy says, wrapping an arm around the anxious jock.
"R-really? T-then who's that?!" She points toward a monitor with the killer walking ominously toward the woods, just like in the movie.
"Just Chef." Chris states. Eva relaxes at last, hiding her face in her gloves.
"Eugh… I feel so pathetic." She groans.
"Good news is, you're safe. Bad news is, you lost out on the potential for a reward." Chris says, wheeling himself around casually.
"Wait, what's the reward?" Owen asks.
"An advantage in the next challenge, which will be explained next time." Chris answers.
"Uh, Chris! Can I just leave for five minutes? This mask is chafing!" Heather's mask cracks, her face resembling a sidewalk now.
"Yeah, yeah, let her leave!" DJ yelps, biting his nails nervously.
"Sorry, we gotta wait 'till everyone's slashed. Aaand it looks like our buddy Geoff is up next!" Chris and the others look up at the monitors, one of which stars Geoff walking in the direction of the supposed ice cream truck with a dopey smile on his face and his hands behind his back. Behind him stalks Chef, who looms over him like a shadow.
"Turn around! He's right behind you!" Owen urges. Alas, Geoff continues.
Chef pokes Geoff's shoulder to get his attention. He turns around, not stopping. "Hey, dude. You see an ice cream truck around here?"
The killer shakes his head. Geoff shrugs, turning back around. Then he realizes what he just saw, turning around once more and stopping his pursuit. "AHHHHHHH!" He falls over, fainting.
Chef carries Geoff by his ankles into the production tent, throwing him on the floor. He slowly comes to, his eyes opening to see everyone else alive and well in front of him. "Between you and DJ, I'm having trouble deciding between who performed worse." Chris says, disappointment in his voice.
"Thanks for having my back, Geoff! What the hell was that?! Don't you know to NEVER leave a brother when he's taking a leak?!" DJ adds, looking down judgingly.
"Okay, even I know that doesn't sound right." Owen replies.
"Where's Geoff?" Gwen's voice questions from the monitor, getting everyone's attention.
"Probably bit it with DJ. Goddamnit, I knew I shouldn't have let those two go alone. This sucks." Duncan laments.
"Well, it's no surprise. Rule number eight, the party guy is always the prime target for psycho killers, right after the big, lovable jock." The goth replies.
"So now she tells me!" DJ complains, crossing his arms.
At the bonfire, Gwen holds her phone to her ear, only for the call to once again not go through. She groans, throwing her phone to the floor. "Forget it! You know what ticks me off most? That I was trying to help them."
"Live and learn, sweetheart. Some people are beyond saving." He flicks his lighter against the stick from earlier, finally setting it ablaze.
"You really are a pyro, aren't you?" She relaxes, resting her elbows on her knees as the flames dance in the air.
"So? I like burning stuff."
"That what you went to juvie for?"
"Ehh. It's more complicated than that. See, I was up in this abandoned warehouse when-" The easel sets on fire as Duncan leans further in, the punk and goth startled by the sudden burst of flames.
"Oh my god! I'll get water!" Gwen sprints away, presumably towards the outhouse confessional to scoop up some toilet water.
"And then there was one." Duncan states, enjoying this far too much.
"Duncan-Duncan-Duncan, Juvie-Juvie-Juvie, Duncan-Duncan-Duncan, Juvie-Juvie-Juvie…"
He cranes his neck around to the sound of the whispers, a smirk coming to his face. "You and me, psycho." He leaves the bonfire, taking his knife out of his pocket. Gwen returns just after he leaves, yelling as she throws the bucket of water onto the easel. The flame dies, the paper burnt to a crisp. As the panic dies down, Gwen looks around, the absence of a delinquent abundantly clear.
"Duncan…? Duncan. Ugh! You know what?! I'm making a sandwich!" She stomps her feet, marching away towards the mess hall.
Duncan walks onto the Dock of Shame, immediately taking notice of the Psycho Killer standing at the edge of the dock like a horror villain, chainsaw in one hand, hook in the other. The moon is like a studio light, perfectly capturing his silhouette in the eerily barren landscape.
(Confessional: Duncan)
"When you have an all-out prize fight, you wait till the fight is over. One guy's left standing and that's how you know who won."
(Confessional end)
Duncan stalks toward the end of the dock, knife glistening in the pale moonlight. "You kill all of my friends, taunt me from the shadows and then have the audacity to stand here waiting on me? Ha, this is gonna be fun."
Chef turns around, eyebrows furrowed and chainsaw revved up and ready. "Come and get it, goalie boy." The two approach each other, glaring at each other like they've both got vendettas. And they do. Duncan's cocky smirk pisses Chef off, who swings first, purposely missing but still getting close enough to scare him. Not a chance. He jumps back, realizing he can't get in close and puts his knife away, throwing a wooden lounge chair at him. He easily cuts it to pieces with one swing, sawdust smoking up his mask.
Duncan turns to see a canoe, picking it up with a tiny struggle before tossing that too. Chef tanks it, blocking it with his studded hook hand. More nervous now, Duncan flinches back before picking up the last item on the floor, a lifejacket. He tosses it, and it immediately gets sliced to pieces by the motor saw. "Shit, shit.." He looks around aimlessly, Chef getting closer and closer when an idea pops into his mind. He gets down on his knees and scoops up a trout from the water, throwing it on Chef's face. It slowly slides down, a disgusting salty smell and greasy liquid trailing down his mask. They both stare at one another.
"W-what? I ran outta stuff to throw." Chef rolls his eyes, bringing his chainsaw down. Duncan screams, throwing himself onto the floor as his heartbeat drums loudly in his ears. Chef barely misses when Duncan ducks his legs out of the way, cutting into the dock and breaking a hole into it. Duncan sees an opportunity and strikes, kicking the cheap chainsaw in two. Chef examines the now useless stick and tosses it into the ocean, brandishing his hook for combat. Duncan picks up the useful side of the chainsaw and cuts the hook off. He raises the chainsaw to his throat, ready to pierce flesh.
"Hah! Thought you could scare me? Now let's see who's the man behind the mask."
"Chill out, boy!" Chef barks, pulling his mask up, a scared expression hidden beneath his nasty face. "I-it's all a challenge! Everyone's fine back at the production tent. I-I'll take you, just put the damn chainsaw down!"
"Chef? Wow. Heather was right. Props to her. Did I win?"
"That's up to Chris to decide."
Gwen sits down with a plate in hand, a sandwich laying on the plate. She sits down, taking a bite. Behind her, from the kitchen, a pale, scarred up, tall and bulky man wearing an apron, black boots and wielding a chainsaw that's already primed and revved walks up behind her. She notices, rolling her eyes.
"I wasn't born yesterday, dude. Please, we watch a horror movie featuring an escaped psycho killer with a chainsaw and a hook, and here you come running around. Heather was right for once. It's just a dumb ratings trap."
The man doesn't reply, his hook hand sparkling with rust.
Chef leads Duncan into the production tent, the contestants cheering him on and clapping for him, genuinely impressed, including Heather.
"Someone lose this?" Duncan proclaims, holding up the killer's mask confidently, grinning ear to ear.
"Way to go, Duncan! Woo-woo!" Izzy cheers. She turns towards the monitor and spots Gwen in the mess hall. "Woah, coolio! Gwen's taking on the psycho all by herself!"
"Wait a minute… if Chef's in here.. Then who's in the lodge with Gwen?!" Duncan questions. Everyone's expressions turn cold and horrified.
"Chris, dude, was that newspaper article like, real?" Geoff asks nervously.
Chris twiddles his thumbs. "Um.. i-it wasn't as lame a prop as we made it seem, Geoff. You see-"
"Holy Lola! It's the real escaped psycho killer with a chainsaw and a hook!" Owen yells, throwing everyone into a panic. Everyone makes a mad dash out of the tent, screaming bloody murder for Gwen as they make their way toward the mess hall.
Chris looks up at Chef as they run. "This could be really really good for ratings- but really really bad for lawsuits!"
Gwen is now standing up, casually eating her ham and cheese whilst looking the killer up and down. "Okay, I know actors without speaking roles don't get paid much, but seriously, dude, invest in a dental plan and some toothpaste."
(Confessional: Escaped Psycho Killer With a Chainsaw and a Hook)
He exhales into his hand, his rotten teeth shown to the camera. He sniffs the aroma, only to be immediately put off by his stench. "Oh…"
(Confessional end)
"Hey, you want a sandwich before you impale me with your big, scary hook?" She offers a second sandwich she prepared.
He shakes his head. She shrugs. "Okay then." She takes another bite. "Look, dude, I've been through worse than some costumed actor staring me down like I'm crazy. You can drop the charade. And frankly? You're not that scary."
He takes off his hook hand, revealing a red, rashy nub. "Ew! How'd they get it to go all scabby like that?"
He growls, raising his chainsaw to attack, sick of this back and forth. Gwen raises her brow, slightly concerned before the door is kicked open, everyone flooding in.
"GWEN! HE'S THE REAL ESCAPED PSYCHO KILLER WITH A CHAINSAW AND A HOOK!" They scream in unison.
"What?!"
"RAAAHHHH!" The maniac screeches, ready to pounce. Gwen, terrified, screams back, dropping her sandwich before launching her boot into his jaw over and over to get him to stop. He drops his chainsaw on the floor, his mask flying off. He has a large scar over his right eye, black thinning hair and a unibrow.
"Ow!" He yelps, holding his jaw in pain. "Oh, that was totally uncalled for! Man, I am SO outta here." He starts walking away, right past the eliminated contestants, his voice light and sassy. "I was treated much better in prison." DJ watches him go for one second more before completely passing out. Gwen slowly approaches the others, offered a fist bump by Duncan, which she reciprocates.
At the elimination ceremony, the bonfire is once again lit, the easel moved to the garbage. The contestants sit on their log seats, with Chris and a more properly dressed Chef standing at their usual placements. A police boat leaves the Dock of Shame with the escaped killer in handcuffs.
"Well, I think it's obvious to everyone today that Gwen is the big winner of today's slasher challenge. She wins a three point advantage in the next challenge. But, major props must also go to Duncan, for beating Chef, the intended killer, fair and square. So, he gets a two point advantage. Unfortunately, because today's biggest loser is whoever did the worst at surviving, and DJ didn't even get scared by the killer, not to mention psyched out Eva and led Geoff to his doom, it's safe to say that he's eliminated tonight."
"Aw, man.. Sorry I let y'all down. From here on out, I'm never getting scared by a horror movie again."
"No, dude, I'm sorry for leaving you behind for cold ones. That was super uncool of me." Geoff says, scratching the back of his neck apologetically.
"I mean, you could've gotten me killed, but.. If you promise to have my back from now on, I can forgive you." DJ states, his arms folded sternly.
"Of course! You know it, dude." Geoff stammers, getting on his knees with his hands clasped. DJ smiles.
"Then all is forgiven."
"No hard feelings, dude. You will be missed." Chris says.
"Aw, group hug!" Owen exclaims, everyone, including Heather, Eva and Chris, circling around DJ for a big hug, genuinely sad to see him go. Chef leads DJ down the Dock of Shame before the two hop into the Boat of Losers and drive away, the others waving him off with goodbye's and 'we'll miss you!''s a'plenty.
The Escaped Psycho Killer watches the island as he's driven away, chanting under his breath,
Total Total Total
Drama Drama Drama
Island Island Island
Total Total Total
Drama Drama Drama
Island Island I-
"Ow, man.. That really hurts. I think it's bleeding. Is it bleeding?"
"Shuuut up!" A cop with the nametag Ron bangs his nightstick against the killer's head, knocking him unconscious.
Mid credits
Everyone previously eliminated holds up a big sign made with cardboard and marker as DJ gets off the Boat of Losers and walks with Chef toward the Playa Des Losers. The sign reads "Welcome DJ!" In big, red letters.
His heart flutters as they say the words in unison, with Zeke slightly lagging behind in delivery. "Oh my gosh, you guys didn't have to do all this!"
"Of course we did! You're our friend, DJ." Bridgette replies.
"Plus, you're probably the nicest guy on the island, not to mention the nicest guy we've ever met." Courtney adds.
"He is really nice, isn't he..?" Katie muses, her and Sadie both ogling him dreamily. DJ swallows nervously, chuckling awkwardly.
"Thank you so much. Oh man, is there better service here?" DJ asks.
"Way better than on the island, yeah." Justin answers.
"I gotta make a call. My mom's probably worried sick if the episode already aired."
"She probably hasn't. Episodes of the show air live over here so we know what's going on, but the actual episodes are all edited super heavily so the show flows better." Harold replies.
"Still, it would be nice to be able to call our parents." LeShawna says.
"We can't?" DJ asks, looking at the ex-psycho killer.
"It was in your NDA, fool." Chef says, sitting down across from him.
"Oooh, so that's why those producer guys came over when I tried to call my sister!"
"Letters are the only correspondence we allow, and even then you can't disclose anything that happened on the show. Leaks are real, and they're abundant." Chef explains.
"Makes sense, I guess." Trent replies.
"Anyway, time for your interview."
"Right, lay it on me." The others mainly go back to what they were doing, either lounging in the pool, heading inside the hotel or just relaxing and talking to one another.
"First question: what's your full name?"
"Devon Cle Joseph. But most people just call me DJ."
"Likes and dislikes?"
"That's a broad question."
"You're telling me!" Chef shouts back. DJ taps his chin.
"I guess I like animals, like Bunny here," He holds up his rabbit, still in his kennel. "But that comes through on screen, right? I also like sports, eating tons of good food, oh and that reminds me, my Momma taught me how to cook when I was pretty young, so I'm a culinary expert, not to toot my own horn. I guess I dislike when people are nasty to the environment and to animals, though more importantly I like to focus on the positives of the world, not the negatives."
"Fair enough. Favorite food?" Chef jots down his response.
"Ooh, now that's tough. I think I'm gonna go with my Momma's egg salad sandwiches. You just gotta taste it to get what I mean, man, they're the best."
"Hah, getting a taste of your momma's egg salad.." Chef chuckles, just before Bridgette's hand swings upside his head.
"Behave, Chef. DJ's been through a lot today."
"Thanks, Bridge." DJ smiles at the blonde, and she smiles back. Chef rubs the back of his head.
"The nerve of kids these days.. Whatever! How's your home life, pansy?"
"Pansy? Psht, take a look in the mirror sometime, Chef." Chef growls in response to DJ's criticism. He shrugs. "I love my home life. I'm a single child, and my mom was a single mom after my dad had a stroke. I was four years old, and I don't remember much, but something I always remember him saying is to never suppress who I really am inside. I've always lived in a nice neighborhood, with good friends and I was pretty popular in school. Still am, probably. Maybe not so much after this. I dunno. But above all else, I give all credit to my Momma for making me the man I am today."
"Oh god! Mooooommmmaaaaaa!" Chef wails, crying into his hands all of a sudden. DJ looks surprised, looking around before offering his hand for support.
"I-it's okay, Chef! Let it all out!"
"N-no! Momma would have wanted me to stop the tears! I-I'm fine! Let's just finish this, alright? Last question." Chef sniffles, wiping his eyes. "W-what would you have done with the money had you won?"
"Uh… Buy Momma and me a nicer car, save the rest for college and help out with bills when I can. My car's kinda a junker, and we gotta share it. But I was taught to be smart with my money. Too bad I won't get another chance at the cash prize again."
Chef is already gone by the time DJ finishes his answer. "Chef? Chef? Huh. Poor guy."
Chef jumps into the Boat of Losers and drives as fast as he can away, wailing for his Momma to the moon and back.
Credits continue.