Rain sprinkles throughout the island. Chris is wearing a yellow raincoat with the hoodie over his perfectly gelled hair, sitting on a chair in front of a pristine, white trailer. The clouds in the sky are gray and unmoving. "Last time on Total Drama Island, we visited our previously eliminated contestants on Playa Des Losers, a resort located a few miles away from Camp Wawanakwa. There we caught up with old friends. Harold got dumped by LeShawna, Trent and Izzy faced off, and Ezekiel's pathetic attempts at winning Bridgette's heart, predictably failed miserably.
During our jury vote, there was a tie between Eva and Heather for who should go home. When it came down to it, Sadie and Katie flipped from voting Gwen to ensure that their bestie Heather stayed in the game. Geoff and Bridgette made sure to tell Eva that it was nothing malicious, and we saw a side of Eva that we never expected to see."
The flashback of previous episode moments ends. Chef walks up to Chris with a glass. "Champagne?"
"Oh, you know it, bro." Chris sips his cup, sighing satisfyingly. "That's good shit. Today is your average rainy summer camp day, so we don't have a challenge planned. Still, it should be fun watching these teens at each other's throats, eh? Hehe! Will Gwen rip Heather's throat out? Will Owen and Duncan stay friends for long? And who's gonna crack under the pressure? Find out right here, right now, on…
Total!
Drama!
Island!"
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 mind.
We see Ezekiel under water, watching Geoff and Bridgette with a downtrodden look on his face, both of which are staring longingly into each other's eyes until an eagle picks Geoff up by his shoulders and carries him off. Bridgette tries to reach for him, watching him fly away with concern.
You asked me what I wanted to be and now I think the answer is plain to see
I wanna be famous.
The eagle drops Geoff down as it soars past the sun. He falls down a few tree branches before landing in DJ's arms, who seconds prior was enjoying nature and the copious animals around him. The animals get violent and attack as soon as their peace is disturbed. DJ and Geoff scream as the former runs with the latter in his arms away from the vicious animals.
Duncan laughs hysterically at the scene, but Courtney glares at him with disapproval, causing him to stop.
I wanna live close to the sun
So pack your bags cause I already won.
Heather is in a canoe with Beth and LeShawna going down the stream. Beth is in the middle, trying to separate the two from dueling. The canoe ends up careening off of the stream and down a waterfall, which makes the teens fall to the water below, passing by Harold as he practices a few fighting poses on a dangerously positioned log overlooking the falls. As he stretches his arms and legs out in a dorky position, Izzy swings in on a vine and knocks into him, bumping directly into an outhouse housing Lindsay, who falls out with her skirt around her ankles.
Everything to prove
Nothing in my way
I'll get there one day
Cause I wanna be famous.
Inside the mess hall kitchen, we see Chef preparing some disgusting green soup with his bare hand dipped into the pot. He looks behind him at a tied up Owen and Noah, both looking petrified of whatever Chef is concoting for them. In the mess hall itself, Eva arm wrestles Tyler, easily beating him and dislocating his arm.
Outside on the beach, Sadie and Katie coo over Justin, who is looking at himself in between two mirrors. He winks at one, his teeth glistening.
Na-na-na-na-na-na
Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na
We get a good look at the polluted, muggy, teal waters of Wawanakwa, a few seagulls fighting over a cellphone. Katie swims for it, with Sadie watching from the sand anxiously, but the skinny brown clone of her best friend ends up being terrorized by a shark and swims back to shore as fast as she can.
I wanna be, I wanna be
I wanna be famous!
Back on the dock of shame, we see Justin strut to the edge before ripping his shirt off, water from the shark splashing towards Katie drenching his perfectly chiseled muscles. He flexes as the camera goes up and transitions from day to night, then comes back down at the campfire ceremony.
I wanna be, I wanna be
I wanna be famous!
Trent is playing his guitar for Gwen, who is entranced by him. He leans forward, a warm smile on his face. As they inch closer, Cody gets between them and places a hand on both of their shoulders, smiling dorkily. The rest of the cast whistles the chorus of the theme song as the camera zooms out to capture them all sitting around the bonfire. The logo appears above them.
Total Drama Island:
The Creeps Cut
Created by VoiceFromUnderTheCovers and Crimson Candy.
Outside of their cabins, Duncan, Gwen and Heather sit underneath the awnings of the shacky, nat infested rooftops, rain pouring heavily just in front of them. Duncan whittles a skull out of a piece of tree bark, sitting on the stairs with his tongue sticking out for maximum focus, revealing his tongue piercing. Gwen sits next to Heather begrudgingly, sketching the crappy weather, while Heather paints her toenails a beautiful satin red next to her.
(Confessional: Gwen)
"Some say rain is the world's dreariest kind of weather. I say, they're correct. But in no way does that make it any less beautiful than an obnoxious wave of sunshine."
(Confessional: Heather)
"I'm still shook from last night's bizarre elimination. Seriously, you guys had the perfect opportunity to snipe me off the show, and you didn't take it? Poor Eva. She was so angry. Oh well, more hundred thousand dollars for me! Oh, that reminds me, to those of you who didn't vote for me and made this all possible, expect a raincheck of 0.99 scents in your bank accounts. I know that seems unfair, but really, you don't have anyone but yourselves to blame for losing so hard."
(Confessional end)
On the megaphones, Chris' voice causes the microphone to screech before he begins yelling in that nauseatingly enthusiastic voice of his. "Listen up, campers! Today's forecast is rain, rain, followed by heavy rain and thunderstorms, which will continue until tomorrow morning. One of the greatest difficulties of hosting a summer camp is competing with an act of God. Someday I'll be able to say I can, but for now, your demigod and host has nothing planned for today. So, enjoy your day off!"
Heather looks toward Gwen and smirks. "Losing another friend so soon after Geoff must really suck for you, Gwen." Gwen rolls her eyes, attempting to ignore her. "Aww, whatcha sketching, depraved symbols of demons and anarchy? You're too easy, you know that?"
Gwen stomps her boot down on the creaky stair Heather is sitting on, forcing her to accidentally brush far too much of her toe. She gasps, glaring at Gwen. "Please, put us all out of our misery and vote yourself off." The goth demands.
"So nice to see you two getting along. Gives me the warm fuzzies~" Duncan teases. Heather sticks her tongue out in disgust.
"Ew, in your dreams, perv." Gwen can only roll her eyes in response.
Duncan's smirk quickly dissipates as he looks up at the rain. "Man, this weather is seriously depressing. Not even Owen could put a warm, happy spin on this day. Speaking of which… where is Owen?"
(Confessional: Owen)
"Wooohooo! Yeeeeah! Final four, baby! Look, mom and dad, I made it! Oh, I'm so glad you guys are so cool with me being here! I've never been happier to be your son..! Say hi to Gavin and Johnny for me, you dudes rock! And special shoutout to my mom, who sent me an entire care package full of candy, beef wellingtons and…" He sniffles, crying into his hands. "..Gravy.. Bath time has never felt so nostalgic. Thank you! ..I really like the other three, too! Hehe, three two. I just hope they're not mad that I've been hoarding so much food for myself while they're not really fond of Chef's cooking.."
We see Owen's bed, the covers bulging with assorted bags of chips, chocolates, pretzels, trails mix and muffins.
"Okay, they might be a little mad about that.. But not as steamed as Chef when he finds out I've been raiding his pantry." His eyes go wide, his hands smacking over his mouth. "Ah! There's something about this confessional that just makes me wanna.. Confess things!"
(Confessional end)
Lightning strikes above the cabins. Gwen and Duncan look up, with the former giving a small smile as she sketches the strike pattern as thunder shakes the island, while Heather's eyes light up and she sinks into her seat in fear. She collects her shoes, stomps into them and hurries inside without a word to her fellow castmates. Duncan gives Gwen a look, but she barely acknowledges him.
"Hey, uh, Gwen? You good?"
"What do you care?" Gwen groans.
"Don't be like that." He stands up and leans against the railing to get closer to her without getting wet. "Hey, whatcha sketching?"
"The storm. This 'depressing' island. It's peaceful to me." She uses air quotes.
"Rain always bums me out, but I can see the appeal from a goth's perspective. You staying out here?" He raises his brow quizzically.
"Yup. Gotta finish this drawing. Then I'm heading in and taking a long nap." She replies, not looking up from her sketchpad.
"Same here. I'm conked out from Eva's outburst yesterday. I coulda sworn Heather would be a goner come that vote."
"Oh, she has her ways. If I were you, I'd stop collaborating with her and stick to Owen. He certainly likes you."
"Yeah.." He yawns. "That's the plan. Alright, g'night." Duncan turns around and walks inside the guys cabin, leaving Gwen to finish up her artistic vision. An hour later, she heads in too, going to bed for much longer than she anticipated, all the way until the next morning.
Within a few hours, the rain becomes so torrential that a flash flood begins. Water piles up and carries off lounge chairs, Chef's shed, and even the confessional outhouse that Owen is still in.
Come morning, Chef rings a bell past breakfast time outside of the mess hall, a bucket of.. Vegetables by his feet. Chris drives up on his ATV, the grass muddy and wet.
"Hey, Chef, you seen the campers?" Chris asks.
"Nope. They ain't shown up for breakfast, and I just finished peeling a whole bag of rotten spuds." Chef lifts the bucket of deteriorating green potatoes, keeping at arm's length with them.
"Hm.. Yeah, that's weird. Come to think of it, I can't even find their cabins." Cinder blocks that acted as foundation are all that's left of the campers cabins, both of them completely gone.
In the middle of the ocean, somewhere on the outskirts of Camp Wawanakwa, two cabins float around aimlessly, accompanied by the beds of the girls. Gwen and Heather snore under their respective covers, while Duncan exits the cabin with a slow, tired drawl until he takes a few too many steps and falls into the ocean. He quickly swims up from submersion and gasps.
"W-We're stranded!" He yells, awaking both Heather and Gwen from their sleep. Heather screams, rolling out of bed into the water immediately, while Gwen yelps, hugging her knees as she remains on the top bunk.
"What the?! Where did all this water come from?!" The goth questions.
"Chris didn't warn us about a flood! O-or is this some ridiculous challenge introduction?" Heather shrieks.
"Either way, it's in character for that maniac." A shark brushes past Duncan's leg, its fin sticking out from the water. "S-s-shark!" All three teens swim as fast as they can away from the aquatic beast, adrenaline feuling them as they head towards the guys cabin. Heather climbs up first, pulling Gwen up with her while Duncan sits on the porch with baited breath.
"Quick! We need something big and chewy to stick in its mouth!" Gwen says.
Heather belts out, "Owen!"
(Confessional: Owen)
"...So I snuck in and ate the entire soccer team's bake sale. I mean the WHOLE sale. But I got caught on account of the icing in my hair.. My mom made me pay for it out of my alliance, but mm… those soccer moms make a mean brownie, ahaha. I'm hungry."
(Confessional end)
Owen attempts to leave the outhouse, and immediately falls into the water below, screaming. As he flails around for help, a lone coconut with three green strands of grassy hair floats by, and he immediately latches onto it for use as a life preserve, helping himself and the fruit into the outhouse before slamming the door behind him.
"I'm all aloooone! Adrift at seaaaa!.. Without breakfast!.."
"What are we going to do? We're all alone out here! The producers can't just let us die, right? They wouldn't do that to us, right?" Gwen shakes Heather's shoulders panically. Heather pushes her away.
"S-stop it, weird goth girl! You're freaking me out. This has gotta be a prank, o-or some sort of challenge."
"What challenge, what are the rules? Where's the competition in this?" Duncan questions.
"I don't know, he's a sadistic creep, how am I supposed to know what he's thinking?!" Heather replies, her voice peaking.
"Okay, okay, both of you, relax." Duncan stammers, holding his hands up.
Gwen jumps in his face, absolutely stiff. "Relax?!" He steps back, realizing his poor choice of words.
"Okay, look, we're gonna die out here if we don't come up with a solution, right?"
Heather quivers slightly. "Y-yeah..? I don't know! Maybe the producers will come and find us."
"Well, in case they don't, we need a plan." Duncan replies.
"Y-yeah, that's good, a plan, that works.. What did you have in mind?" Gwen asks, hugging herself.
Duncan looks around before grabbing a crooked stair and pulling it off of its hinges. Then he gets on his knees and begins paddling weakly. "Awkward angle aside, as long as we can push the cabin in one direction toward Wawanakwa, we should be okay. At least better than sinking and drowning to death."
"What can we do?" Gwen asks impatiently, though she does seem somewhat calmer.
"Tell me if my steering sucks, I guess. Look out for choppers, check for leeches? I dunno." He talks more sporadically, his energy honed in on getting them to safety.
"No, no, that all sounds fair. Okay.." Gwen sighs, getting to work on checking herself for leeches. Heather looks up at the sky, scanning for helicopters.
"The one time I want to see that big, red annoying chopper…" She mutters bitterly. Within a half hour, the group manage to make it to land this way, jumping onto the beach of a part of the island they had never been to. It's packed with trees hiding many different accessible paths, a dirt road leading into the woods, and palm trees.. In Muskoka? Questionable terrain aside, they could just be imported.
"Okay.. is anyone else a little creeped out right now?" Gwen asks.
"At this point, I think we've been duped." Heather states, her composure returning.
"Seriously? You think they'd make us steer back to land in a cabin, stressing out for our very lives?" Gwen questions.
"The serial killer challenge literally threw us into a situation where we thought we could die. They were probably watching with hidden cameras, laughing it up while we feared and panicked." She explains, flipping her hair.
Duncan, drenched in sweat and panting as he sits down on a rock, looks up at them. "Don't be so dramatic. Chris knows that would make for sucky TV. We barely even spoke to each other outside of madly rambling to ourselves. The producers will send a rescue team. We should wait here for them to come get us."
"..so cancel the challenge? Wait for the kids to show up themselves? And what if they don't?" Chris asks as he holds his phone to his ear, while Chef walks with him toward their production tent, the bucket of spuds in his arm. "Okay.. yeah, I guess we could just get a new cast of cooky actors to play the teens and pretend they survived. But what about their parents?.. Yeah, yeah I know I shouldn't worry, but Courtney is already breathing down my neck with that lawsuit, and I think I'd be out of a job if the other contestants pushed through with the same action."
The voice raises its voice and Chris' eyes go wide. Chef looks down at him with a raised brow. "Alright, alright, so the plan is to relax, unwind and when the kids come back, we do an elimination? Sounds good. Um.. I guess they'll be fine. McLean out." He turns his phone off and sighs.
"So.. don't look for the kids?" Chef asks.
"Nah, producers wanna see 'em squirm, they think a situation like this is perfect for the ratings, and who am I to argue? It's just.."
"What? You ain't getting soft, are you?"
"Nah, I was gonna say I'm hungry. Let's eat." Chris replies, negating his hesitance.
"You actually wanna eat this slop?" Chef looks at the potatoes with absolute disgust.
"No way! I meant at the craft services tent. I ordered a care package of filet mignon we could share, if you're down."
Chef grins. "Sounds good. I could go for some delicious meat about now."
"That's what I like to hear!" Chris exclaims, while Chef drops the bucket of spuds on the floor and walks with his friend faster, rubbing his hands together at the promise of good food.
(Confessional: Duncan)
"Left stranded alone with two hot chicks? Yeah, not as good as it sounds when they're both completely annoying."
(Confessional: Gwen)
"So I thought to myself: they actually left us out here to die. For real this time."
(Confessional: Heather)
"Note to self: never sign up for a competition show ever again."
(Confessional end)
Duncan relaxes into his rock seat, despite how bumpy and uncomfortable it is. "Ah.. let's just wait here, save our energy. The producers will find us soon."
"What if the producers don't come looking for us? What if they don't know where we are? I say we build a raft and sail back to camp."
"Great, let's get more lost."
"I'm telling you, we could be here for days!"
"We need to stay put, or else we might end up eaten by a shark or otherwise lose the producers entirely."
"I figured it out."
"You did?" They ask in unison.
"That's right. This really is all a challenge testing our wilderness survival skills. Think about it, we're all at each other's throats, stranded on a Castaway-esque section of the island we've never even seen before, and just like the serial killer challenge, we're completely in the dark. With that being said, I'm not going to worry."
"Seriously? You don't even wanna try to look for help?"
"No need. When they realize we're not playing their little game, they'll come get us. I'm going for a walk." She puts her sunglasses on and walks away.
"Wait! Heather! Ugh..!" Gwen stomps her foot, a cacophony of sand kicking up amidst her legs.
(Confessional: Heather)
"Things we're getting really tense between us. But you have to remember that we were soaked, starving and scared. But I kept my wits about me, as always. It's a good thing at least one of us can keep calm in the face of adversity."
(Confessional end)
"She'll be back, don't worry." Duncan says, taking his knife back out to continue his carving.
Gwen spins toward him and points in his direction. "I AM worrying! I don't wanna die here!" She yells.
Whilst walking, Heather comes across some red foliage. After pushing back the leaves, she finds a treehouse built by the woods. It looks professionally made, like it belongs on a film set, with a ladder that goes all the way up to the porch and door. Heather smiles. "Hm. Not bad. Beats sleeping on the beach in case this goes on a few days."
(Confessional: Owen)
He rocks back and forth, wet and shivering. "Okay.. gotta get into my happy place.. I'm in the back of Burger Queen, eating a leg of fatty, greasy chicken on a stick.. I'm at the carnival, chowing down on fried Oreos and sticks of battered butter.. I'm swimming in a cup of chocolate milk.. AH! Go away!" He slaps himself, killing a few flies on his face.
Clunk!
"Is that..?" He gasps.
(Confessional end)
He opens the door, his face lighting up. "Sand! Oho, sweet momma in a sidecar going 90! I'm back at camp! Yeah!" He sprints as fast and hard as he can, only to halt immediately upon finding a giant dinosaur head skull. Owen screams loudly before sprinting back into the outhouse, closing the door behind him. "This day really stinks…!"
Heather scopes out her new headquarters, hands on her hips as she looks past the porch. "Huh, nice view." She turns west toward Duncan and Gwen's camp. They're nowhere nearby, so she raises her voice: "Hey, you two! If you're done arguing, I found us a place to stay!" She opens the door, and immediately a skeleton falls from the ceiling and breaks into pieces. She howls, jumping back until she falls off of the porch and onto the grass. Squirming back, she stands up and runs back toward her two contemporaries, only to bump right into Duncan's chest, falling back onto the floor. Squealing even harder, Duncan shushes her.
"Easy! It's just u-u-.. Oh my god." He and Gwen both bear witness to the massive T-rex skull, mouths agape and eyes wide in shock.
"S-so.. still think we're downstream from camp?" Heather asks, hiding behind them.
Duncan shakes his head. "Okay.. I've been wrong before."
(Confessional: Owen)
"Ahhh! I'm all alone..! Ah.. W-wait.. I'm not alone. I'm not alone! Hehe! Because my little brown and oval-qular savior is here!" Owen bends down and picks up the coconut that 'saved' his life. "Yes.. I shall call you.. Mr. Coconut.. Hehe!" He opens the door to the outhouse, scanning the area. "There has to be… food!" He gasps, spotting.. "Coconuts?"
(Confessional: Chris and Chef)
"Would someone please explain to me why there are palm trees and coconuts up here? We're in Muskoka!" Chef questions.
"They were leftover props from a prehistoric flick Waning Bros. were shooting over here. I knew they'd be useful someday!" Chris explains.
(Confessional end)
Owen belches, bumping his chest as he sits by a tree amidst a collection of discarded, empty coconuts. "It's been a grueling nine minutes of isolation.. When a human mind is right for cracking!" He lifts Mr. Coconut up like Simba at the beginning of the Lion King. "You know what I'm talking about, right Mr. Coconut?" He makes the fruit nod as he baby talks to it. "Oh! You do!" He hugs it, holding it close like a mother to her child. "It's just you and me, buddy! We'll hunt, forage and survive.. Together! But first I need to pee." He stands up and walks toward the confessional outhouse, closing the door behind him.
"Uh.. can you look the other way, please?"
Heather, Gwen and Duncan enter the treehouse. Heather sticks behind both of them. Gwen and Duncan pick up the skeleton on the floor, examining it to see if they were real. "These look like the same bones they used to build tombs and props out of on Boney Island." Gwen says.
"Ha! I-I knew it! It's all a big, sick game of Chris'. He's probably watching us right now!" Heather replies shakily.
Meanwhile, Chris puts on a bib alongside Chef, scooping up some filet mignon before feeding it to Chef, and vice versa, all while classy music plays behind them.
"Regardless, we're still stranded, and we're going to die here if we don't build a raft." Gwen says.
Duncan pinches the bridge of his nose. "God, you're still on this? We have the perfect place to wait for them to come and find us now as long as we set a smoke signal, and you're still into getting more lost?"
"What if the producers don't know where to look? They're not exactly the sharpest tools in the shed, in case you didn't notice."
(Confessional: Chris and Chef)
Chris looks dead serious, while Chef looks amused. "I'm gonna let that little comment pass.." He looks up at Chef, who immediately changes to a serious, no nonsense expression and nods at the camera.
(Confessional: Heather)
"I was so better off without those lunatics holding me back. Good luck lost in the wild without shelter."
(Confessional end)
"Fine, ya know what? Since we can't agree on anything, let's make a new rule: every camper for themselves." Duncan states, putting his foot down. Gwen tightens her hands into fists and growls.
"Fine." She immediately begins climbing down the treehouse.
"Fine." Duncan says, folding his arms before jumping down from the porch.
Heather looks between both of them before shrugging. "Fine with me." She closes the treehouse door after throwing out all of the bones.
(Confessional: Duncan)
"Okay, okay, bad move on my part. I know I should be making more of an effort to bring somebody into the final two with me this deep in the game, but choosing between these two and Owen is more difficult than you'd think. I mean, who would you trust?"
(Confessional end)
Owen has decorated the outhouse since the last time we saw him. He also has a massive, scratchy, full beard. It's been three hours, shown by the third tally mark he scratches into the door of the confessional with Heather's lipstick. "It's been three hours since the isolation began.. Duncan, Heather and Gwen must be dead.. I guess Heather won't care about what I do with her make-up when she isn't looking now.. It's okay. Mr. Coconut is here to keep me company, isn't that right Mr. Coconut?"
The fruit now has a lipstick red smile. Seconds later, there's a hole in his head, shot through by an arrow. Owen screams in despair. "MR. COCONUT, NOOOOOO!"
Meanwhile, Duncan, holding a makeshift bow, smacks his lips. "Damn, I have no clue where that thing went. Note to self, next time, make more arrows." He nods, walking in the general direction he shot. Suddenly, the sound of something plopping to the ground from the trees gets a rise out of the delinquent. He brandishes his knife before jumping into the foliage, stabbing at bananas and pineapples. "Die, die, die! Hahaha!" With a smirk, he stands up and collects the massive haul he was able to grab, dropping it all onto the grass nearby.
"Mmm, one fruit salad comin' up." He turns, noticing a nest with a giant egg in the middle. "Oh, sweet! Uber omelet on the side, alright!" Rubbing his hands together, he walks toward the nest and grabs the egg, completely missing the shadow of a familiar flying beast hovering over him…
He returns to the treehouse site, his fruit salad-omelet combo stacked in his arms. While Heather is still in her tower, Gwen is finishing up the raft she was talking about building earlier, a mass of logs strapped together with curtains from the cabin. "Hey.." Duncan greets, looking down at her with an awkward smile.
"You're not stopping me from going to find camp. Every camper for himself, remember?" She bitterly replies.
"Yeah, yeah, I know what I said. Look, it was stupid, okay? I was caked in sweat and pissed and kinda freaked out. Do you wanna split a fruit salad omelet with me?"
Gwen squints at him, but slowly stands up. "You're lucky there's a brain left in there, otherwise I would have taken off on you."
"If we do end up dying out here, I don't wanna die with you hating me." He says, sitting down with bent knees as he drops the supply of food he has on the raft. Gwen smiles.
"That's probably the sweetest thing you've ever said to me."
Heather peaks out of the window, munching on a chocolate bar. "Aww, as usual you two are getting along swimmingly! What happened to every camper for themselves?"
"It was stupid?" Gwen answers.
"Where'd you get that chocolate?" Duncan asks.
"Owen's secret stash." Heather replies.
"That butterball, I knew his mattress looked lumpy!" Duncan snaps his fingers. "Hey, you gotta share some of that with us, it's us against the world over here."
Heather playfully thinks on it. "Hm.. you two seem pretty well stacked, actually. I think I'll enjoy my candy myself, thank you very much. And, since we're alone on the island-"
Rooooooaaaaaaarrrrr!
All three of them go wide eyed.
"...Or not."
Owen peaks from the confessional door, looking to and froe for the attacker who hurt his best friend. "Don't worry, Mr. Coconut. You're not like me. Made of flesh and bone.. You'll live juuuust fine. Besides, it adds character." He caresses the coconut's solid, egg shaped form.
ROOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAARRRRRR!
Owen slams the confessional door shut, quivering in his boots.. If he was wearing any. He's completely naked save for his underwear. Did I forget to mention that?
The source of the screaming is coming from the production studio. Chef blows on a conch shell in front of a table full of pancakes, salad and sandwiches.
"Brunch.. Is served." He says professionally. Chris rubs his hands together.
"Ah, brunch. Such a sophisticated meal. You're still digesting your brekky, so you're not in the mood for lunch. But this in between? It's perfect." He grabs a spoonful of eggs benedict caked in hollandaise sauce. "Ooh, hollandaise!" He shoves the spoonful in his mouth, moaning. "Mm.. you've outdone yourself, Chef!"
Chef smirks proudly before blowing on the conch again for giggles.
ROOOOOAAAAAAARRRRR!
Heather looks around, still chewing on her chocolate bar. "I-it's still probably just Chris freaking us out!"
Gwen's stomach rumbles. "Well, whatever it is, I'm not sticking around to find out." She starts pushing her raft, and Duncan assists her.
"Wait, you can't leave! You'll get lost!" Heather shouts.
"Don't care as long as I'm far away from you." She picks up a paddle and steps onto the raft as it's submerged in water. Duncan sits on it with her, egg in his lap. Heather, in a panic, opens the door and jumps down the ladder, running towards the coast.
"You're just going to leave me after I saved your life?! I did! I pulled you up from the water!" Heather yells, pointing at her.
"...I could have done that on my own." Gwen grumbles,
"But you didn't. You're no better than me if you selfishly let me die here. Please, guys, take me with you! I don't wanna be alone here!" Her voice breaks, bottom lip pouting.
(Confessional: Gwen)
"I don't know if it was the starvation, the isolation or the situation as a whole.. But I actually felt bad for Heather."
(Confessional end)
Duncan scooches, looking at Gwen for confirmation. "It's your ride. Your call."
"Please, Gwen, please." Heather stresses, clasping her hands together. Gwen sighs, rolling her eyes.
"Fine, get on." Heather smiles, running onto the raft with relief.
"Thank you." She sighs, sitting on her knees behind them. Gwen picks up her paddle to sail, while Duncan peels and eats a banana.
Owen jumps out of the confessional, holding Mr. Coconut in one hand and a plunger in the other, covered in tribal 'paint' (lipstick), a skull glued plastered on his head by grass strands. His undies have been replaced by a loincloth. "That's it! I will not hide anymore. This hunter, this tribal hunter of much good will, will not become the hunted! Mr. Coconut.. Let's find our attacker!"
He struts forward, following the sound of drums pounding. Cutting to the production tent, Chris and Chef are partying hard. Chris does limbo while Chef bangs on his drums. "Ah.. fun in the great outdoors. Too bad the interns are all missing. We should send them a video of this."
On the open seas… "Ugh, you're rowing like a little girl! Come on, pick up the pace." Heather demands.
"If you don't like it, there's the door." Gwen states, continuing her rowing.
"Seriously, what's your damage?" Duncan asks.
"That's none of your business. I mean.. Look at our situation!" Heather blurts out. A few rows further and Gwen nods.
"I see land."
Some time later, Gwen stops at the shore. Right up against the water is a big, rectangular block of wood. Duncan picks up his egg and fruit, while Gwen looks around at the somewhat familiar looking beach. "This could be anywhere. It doesn't look like camp." Duncan says.
"Better than back on that side of the island with whatever was making that horrible noise." Heather replies.
"Yeah, besides, it's just our first stop."
"Wait a minute.. Isn't this the confess-"
ROOOOAAAAAAARRRR!
All three campers look up. Flying overheard, a prehistoric goose from Boney Island. All three drop their jaws to the floor. Duncan looks down at the egg in his arms. The goose looks down at him specifically and screeches, flying down to attack with its massive brown talons clawed out for assault. Gwen, Heather and Duncan scream, with the latter running as hard as he can away. As he passes the confessional outhouse, Owen kicks the door open with his bare foot, yells like a tribal warrior whilst flicking his tongue and throws Mr. Coconut as hard as he can at the beast. It's hit in the snout, greatly damaging the animal. Duncan continues running, falling over his own two feet. The egg rolls onto the sand of the beach, and soon after the goose sores downward over Duncan.
"Duncan!" All three of his friends gasp. The goose grabs its egg, flying away. She looks down at the group and blows a raspberry. Duncan slowly stands up, absolutely bewildered by what just happened. Heather is more surprised at something else.
"Owen! You're alive! What's with the fake beard?" She tugs on his unkempt beard.
"Ow!" He rubs his chin in pain. Then he gasps. "Wait a minute.. It's a mirage!" Owen runs over to his Coconut buddy, hugging him close to his chest. "Oh, Mr. Coconut, I've gone bananas!" He wails, huddling into a ball while rocking back and forth. Gwen walks up to him, bends down and snaps her fingers.
"Owen, I'm real. My name is Gwen Fahlenbock and you wouldn't know my last name unless I told you. Satisfied?"
His eyes snap open. "Oh… Oh wow! You guys really are here! Duncan, Gwen, and the rest!"
"Um, seriously?" Heather rolls her eyes.
"Where have you guys been?" He hugs Duncan and Gwen between his sides, dangerously close to his hairy armpits. They hold back gags, pushing back.
"Well we think that the storm last night stranded us on another island." Duncan says, pointing at himself.
"We're on Wawanakwa, we'd be able to see it otherwise. Just on an unfamiliar side of it." Gwen argues.
"And I think that this is just another one of Chris' challenges." Heather proclaims, holding her hand to her chest.
"Chris is alive too?! It's been so long, he must be in his sixties by now!"
"Dude, it's been like four hours." Duncan says.
"I know, if only we had let the good times last before our time was up." Owen cries.
"Okay seriously, is this real or what?" Heather tugs at his beard again.
"Ow!"
ROAAAAAAAARRRRRR!
"Crap! It's coming back!" Duncan yells.
"I know a place we can stay! I scoped it out earlier!" Owen says, beginning his sprint. Heather follows behind him without question.
"What about the raft?!" Gwen asks, looking back at the only mode of transportation they have. Duncan grabs her boney hand.
"It's too slow, we'll come back for it later!" He runs with her, following Owen and Heather. They make it into the woods, where Owen points toward.. "The treehouse? Ugh, Gwen, you led us into a big circle!" Heather scolds, just before a giant purple python falls on her shoulders. She screams so loud that the snake is projected off of her back, adrenaline taking over to help her climb up the ladder and enter the treehouse. Owen screams too, heading upstairs and joining Heather. Duncan and Gwen jump over the python, climb up and close the door behind them. All four of them shiver, petrified.
(Confessional: Duncan)
"A serial killer is one thing. I can fight any dude, as long as they're not packing heat. A giant prehistoric goose? Hah.. yeah, no, that thing is an abomination of nature."
(Confessional: Chris and Chef)
"I gotta ask.. Where'd the geese and beavers from Boney Island come from? I ain't ever heard from him before I met you." Chef questions.
"Let's just say, I have a lot of friends who can't dump waste on national seas. They're only prehistoric by name. That's all I can say without getting arrested for confessing to a felony, so can we move on from this?" Chris explains.
(Confessional end)
It's tea time at the production tent. A soft, Victorian track plays on a record player between the two hosts. Chris sips a creamer heavy hot latte in a mug with his face as the cup. "Mm, this mug tastes like perfection! I can't wait to ship them out on masse for bouquet bucks."
"Where are the Chef Hatchet mugs?" Chef asks, creeped out by the Chris mug in his hand holding his black coffee.
"Not as marketable. Try hosting another episode and then we'll see." Chris replies dismissively.
Chef growls, squinting his eyes at Chris. "How are you feeling, Chris?"
"Never better, honestly. Needed a day off."
"Oh yeah? Not worrying about the kids?"
"Eh, they're probably okay."
"Oh really?"
Chris looks up at Chef. "W-why, what do you think is happening with them?"
"Oh, I dunno.. Coulda drowned to death.. Bodies washed up on shore. Eaten by grizzly bears.. Taken each other out?" Chef shrugs, sipping his coffee innocently. Chris scratches his chin nervously.
"Um… yeah. You know what, maybe it's time to check on them through the monitors, see what our cameras picked up." He scoots out of his chair, putting his mug down.
"Chris, man, you are one dedicated host." Chef puts his mug down, leans over Chris and picks him up, cradling him like a baby. Chris melts into it, closing his eyes restfully. "You're an inspiration."
"Thanks, dude.. It's what I do." He replies. They both squeeze each other.
Back at the treehouse, the group sits around. There are two beds, with Owen and Heather on one with Mr. Coconut in his lap, and Duncan and Gwen sitting next to each other. Duncan lays his head in his palms, while Gwen bounces her knee anxiously.
"Okay, okay, I spy with my little eye.. Something caramelly." Owen says.
"Mallomars..?" Duncan groans, not lifting his head for even a second.
"Hehe, you're so good at this, Duncan!" He tosses a bar in his mouth without even removing the wrapper.
Heather cringes. "Ugh, Owen.. no offense, but you disgust me."
"Aww, none taken! You saved my candy bar stash, after all." Owen exclaims.
"I did? Oh yes. Of course I did." Heather blushes nodding with a fake toothy smile.
"Hehe! Okay, it's your turn, Mr. Coconut.." Owen says, poking the fruit. The arrow is no longer lodged in his head, removed earlier by Owen.
Gwen stands up, pacing around. "Ugh, I can't take this anymore. We're cooped up in here while the producers could be looking for us! We should have made an SOS sign, or a smoke signal."
"Don't beat yourself up, pasty. We woulda died had we not ran in here." Duncan replies, watching her go.
"God, you're all so crazy! Why of all people am I stuck in here with you?" Heather questions.
Duncan chuckles. "Pfft, you say that like you're not insufferable. You change friends more than I change socks."
"Not often enough? Thanks, I'll keep that in mind." Heather bites back. Duncan glares, crossing his arms at her.
Owen looks between the hostile group. "Um, guys-"
"You think you're such a good person." Gwen starts at Heather.
"No, no I don't. I just know that everyone else is worse." Heather replies.
"You're worse! You fucked my boyfriend, nearly killed Lindsay and make fun of Owen behind his back!" Gwen barks.
Heather grins. "I fucked your boyfriend? Which one? Trent, Geoff or Duncan?" The entire building gasps.
"Woah, woah, sister, we haven't done anything." Duncan defends.
Gwen is shaking, anger infesting her mind. "I haven't been with anyone in my life outside of Trent, you sick little whore. Quit projecting on me."
Heather stands up, getting in Gwen's face. She pushes her. "I saw the way you took off after party boy. You're not fooling anyone. Face it: you're the slut, not me."
Gwen's face goes completely red. "Yeah, well you're not fooling anyone with your nice girl act! You're nothing but a cheating, lying hypocrite!" Gwen explodes, a bout of rage hitting her like they had never seen before. The girls are up in each other's faces, ready to pounce, with Duncan taking out his knife by Gwen's side. Heather doesn't hesitate, winding up her arm for a smack of the century.
"GUYS! PLEASE STOP FIGHTING!" Owen yells, loud enough to shake the treehouse. They all look at him, eyes on fire. "L-look, I know it's been a hard time these last few hours.. So, let me help you all. We don't know how long we're gonna have to stay in here, or if we'll.. Die here! So.. maybe using our energy to kill each other is the wrong way to go about it."
"And what do YOU suggest, fatty ginormous?" Heather insults.
"Uh, rude. I suggest we all gather around and confess our sins." Owen replies.
This.. confuses them, almost frustrating them. Gwen slaps her own face. "Oh my gosh.. You're joking, right? I'm a satanist, Owen, I denounce God."
"Yeah, and I'm an atheist, I don't believe in that crap." Duncan states.
"Hey, that's alright! Whatever floats your boat! It's not a religious thing. Back in the confessional, I confessed all of the bad things I've ever done on international TV! Maybe, just maybe, if you do it too, you'll feel as good as I do!"
They all look between each other, calming down. Heather sits down next to Owen, hugging her knees. Gwen sits down with Duncan keeping his distance, leaning by the wall. "...Fine. I'll go first." Heather states. Everyone stares at her. She sighs shakily.
"When I was twelve years old, my older brother left the house. I hated him. I was glad to see him go. He left for college. For some reason, though, I started.. Missing him. He used to throw water on my face to wake me up at five in the morning, or take my tooth fairy money, or heck, even make me do all of his chores. He was the most annoying, disgusting dork I've ever met in my life. But when he came by to visit for Christmas break, he brought back his girlfriend. My parents loved her, my other older sister loved her, and more importantly, I hated her. He apologized to me, and I felt absolutely disgusted by that.
It was like he had turned me into a v-...victim." She swallows. Duncan and Gwen look between each other. Owen leans closer. "So.. so.. I uh.. I cut all of her hair while she was sleeping. Including her eyebrows. I drew a mustache on her face, and fed her laxatives in the brownies I made for them. I wanted her to be disgusting, so disgusting that he'd go back to normal and hate me. He'd have to blame me. Rest assured, when she woke up, he screamed, she cried, and he did blame me. Now.. he never comes by to see me. My parents tried to ground me, so I held my breath until they let me free. It's.. unorthodox, it's fucked up, whatever. But there it is. My worst deed."
'Wow… That really is messed up." Gwen states, somehow less surprised than she thought she'd be. Heather rubs her arm, looking genuinely guilty.
"Yeah, seriously." Owen adds.
"...I know." She replies.
"I guess.. I'll go next." Duncan says. "I'll tell you all how I ended up in juvie. It was half a year ago now. I've been in and out of juvie a few times, but until this year, I had never stayed for longer than a week. My Ma always managed to bail me out, which pissed the shit out of my dad. He always said I needed to suffer in the pen like my brother did in order to become a better person. Well, to tell you the truth, my Ma always had a soft spot for me. Saw me as the angel boy I used to be before my dog Petey ran away. That's a story for another day. Anywho.. I've been in for shoplifting, vandalism, graffiti and gettin' into fights. But none reached the kind of criminal offense I had gotten myself into this time.
I was smoking weed with a few boys from school I didn't care about and sure as hell don't like now. Think their names were Nick and Julius. White guy and a Dominican guy respectively. We were in this abandoned building, which used to be an orphanage and was right next to an elementary school. We ended up freaking out when we heard sirens right outside, and I really started freaking out when I saw Officer Nelson himself."
"Your dad?" Owen asks.
Duncan nods. "I was high as a kite, but I knew him when I saw him. I tossed the blunt, and so did the others. The floor was carpeted, the flame caught and within like five minutes it spread when we were already running toward the exit. The pigs were there investigating a robbery across the street, but my dad, of course, saw the smoke and came in to rescue us. He arrested all three of us, but that wasn't the humiliating part. Those boys I mentioned earlier? They ratted me out, threw me under the bus and said I forced them to smoke with me. Nobody believed me when I said I didn't. Again, not the most humiliating part. The worst part was when they discovered the fire had spread so bad that it was now engulfing two floors above us. Firefighters were called, the school was dismissed next to us and I was put out on a reckless burning charge, barely escaping a child endangerment charge because I was fifteen. My dad and lawyer fought for a year long sentence 'cause I was a repeat offender, but I didn't care about that. I could have killed those kids."
He lowers his head, running his hands through his hair as he sits at the edge of one of the beds. Gwen rubs his back with one hand to comfort him.
"That's harsh. I'm so sorry, Duncan." Gwen says.
"That's way worse than what I did at least.. Kinda." Heather says, rubbing the back of her neck.
Owen wipes a single tear away. "You've come so far.."
"I guess that just leaves me then? Since Owen already confessed all his sins." Gwen says.
They all nod. She sighs, looking down at the floor. "I'll keep this brief. When me, my little brother and my mom used to live in Vancouver, I was just discovering myself. You know, finding my style, my music taste, my personality. Just me in general. I found out I was goth when I was ten years old, and for some reason this made all the girly classmates I knew extremely uncomfortable. I didn't perform live rituals or torture household pets. All I wanted to do was be me. But everybody thought I was some witch. I got invited to a birthday party, and upon arrival, they locked me in the basement under the stairs and had fun while I cried and banged on the door."
"Is that where your fear of confined spaces came from?" Duncan asks.
"Bingo. I still have nightmares about it sometimes. I only got free because my mom came looking for me and they had no choice but to tell her after their flusey parents got on their cases. It fucked me up so bad that I wanted payback. They caused me permanent damage, so I'd do the same to them."
"What did you do?" Owen asks. Gwen looks away worriedly.
"...I unleashed a swarm of rats into their homes. One of them contracted rabies and died. I didn't know that would happen. I had no fucking clue I'd be a ki- a.. I can't even say it." She shakily sighs. Now Duncan takes her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckle reassuringly. She wipes some tears from her eyes. "I.. I told my mom and everybody at school knew. The police came after us, so we moved to Toronto and changed our names. My real name isn't Gwen at all. It's Megan.. But I hate that name. Megan is dead. Gwen is who I am. She's always who I'll be."
"Wow… I guess I got off easy when it comes to your wrath." Heather says uneasily.
"I still stand up for myself against bullies. But I'll never go that far again." Gwen replies.
"Ah.. don't you feel better now?" Owen asks, laying down on the bed. Heather stands up, wrinkling her nose at him.
"Not really. I mean, kinda?" Duncan responds, scratching the back of his neck.
"I'm gonna see if that snake's gone yet. We haven't heard anything from the goose in a while. Oh, one more thing? What we said here stays here. We're in agreement on this, right?" Gwen asks.
"Absolutely, yup, no doubt." They all reply. Gwen heads out the door. A few steps in and she spots a smoke trail coming from the woods. "Holy shit. Guys, smoke!" Gwen points at the sight. Duncan, Owen, Heather and of course Mr. Coconut jump to her side, staring in awe at the sign of human life. Heather looks down, the purple snake still coiled up at the bottom of the ladder.
"Could be the producers!" Duncan exclaims.
"Or a trick." Heather suggests.
"Oh yeah? I know how we can find out." Owen says, grinning.
Half an hour later, Owen isn't the only one in a crazy costume. Heather is wearing tribal make-up on her eyes and cheeks, now resembling a sort of inkan ninja. Duncan has blue face paint with black eyeliner similar to members of Kiss. Lastly, Gwen is wearing full on white face paint and heavy black eyeliner, her hair poofier and her lips black. Duncan holds his bow and arrow, Gwen holds a plunger, and Heather a wooden spear.
"I don't know about this, Owen." Gwen says.
"If we pretend we're the headhunters, then whoever's over there is bound to be scared of us instead of the other way around!" Owen explains.
"We can't leave until this stupid snake is dealt with." Heather states.
"Oh that? Pfft." Owen drops Mr. Coconut with ease. The dense coconut easily knocks out the snake, rolling onto the floor safely. Gwen, Duncan and Heather glare at him. "What?"
"You could have done that the whole time and didn't . Why?" Gwen asks.
"And miss out on all the bonding we did? Yeah, right." They roll their eyes. "Come on, let's go oogie boogie! Ooga, booga, ooga!" Owen grunts, sliding down the ladder. The others shrug before parroting his mannerisms, screaming as Owen picks up Mr. Coconut and the quartet sprint towards the smoke.
Owen stops them all midway through the forest. "Okay, brethren, we might not get out of this alive. So let's get our oogie boogie g-rooove on!" He dances, disturbing all of his friends.
"Yeah, Owen… I'm not so sure about this." Gwen says uneasily, looking down at her 'weapon'. Owen takes off.
"Ooga booga booga!" Too late. They all follow him, chanting similar incantations before jumping from the bushes to find a baron production studio. Chris and Chef exit their trailer just as the group brandishes their weapons.
"Woah, woah, woah! Heyyy, kids!" Chris throws his hands up innocently. Chef folds his arms at them. "Where were you all?"
"Where do you think? Wait.. you mean you WEREN'T looking for us?!" Gwen asks.
"Um.. about that- we were going to look for you.. But we got so caught up in the free day that we forgot!" Chris answers. All four contestants look beyond frustrated.
"Look, y'all lived, ain't that enough?" Chef states.
"No, it isn't. Our cabins are out in the middle of the ocean, we nearly died and we were going to kill each other had Owen not stepped in." Gwen replies.
"In that case… I guess Owen's the winner of this challenge since he survived the best, eh?" Chris says, improvising.
Owen's eyes go wide. "What? I won? Haha! Woohoo! I win! I am the expert survivalist everybody looks up to! Yeah, baby!" He hugs Duncan and Heather close to him. They both grimace.
"It was a challenge the whole time?" Duncan questions.
"No, but why not make it one? We do have an episode quota after all. Owen wins immunity, so get to deciding who you want to vote out. Oh, and leave the premises immediately. This area is for staff members ONLY. I swear I'm missing something.. Oh yeah! Did you guys see any of the interns? They were sent to scout out the area." Chris asks.
"Uh… They might have gotten.. Eaten by prehistoric geese. We saw one, and it nearly killed us." Gwen answers.
Chris and Chef both stare at each other with surprise. "Ah. Okay.. Um, if you guys stay hush-hush about their gruesome deaths, I'll get your cabins back to land. Deal?"
They all nod.
"Cool.. Uh, see ya then." Awkwardly, Chris walks back inside the trailer, getting on his phone. "Yeah, it's me. Good news, the kids survived. Bad news? The interns didn't. Get me a new couple of idiots to work for me, pronto!"
SLAM!
The contestants look between each other, then walk back to camp as it begins to rain once again.
"Just perfect.." Heather mumbles.
The rain has once again subsided, and all of the contestants are in cleaner clothes, as well as cleaner bodies. Chris stands with a platter of four marshmallows, while Owen, Gwen, Duncan and Heather all wait impatiently for who got the most votes, with Mr. Coconut in Owen's lap. He's no longer so rugged, his beard shaved and hair cut.
"Okay, wild day. What was supposed to be your day off turned into a romp full of horrifying monsters, sudden death scenarios, and an exposure of your deepest, darkest secrets." The cast looks around awkwardly at that point. "Don't be so nervous! I promise your secrets are safe with me." He winks at the camera. "The following campers are safe.. Owen."
He tosses the marshmallow to Owen, who catches it with his free hand. Duncan, Gwen and Heather look anxiously between each other.
"Gwen. Duncan."
"Wait a minute.. You have four marshmallows." Heather points out, her heart rate speeding up. Is she really a goner after everything she's done?
"Yup. Of course, Heather received the most votes with three against one on Duncan." Chris explains.
"You voted for me? Good to know. Later, loser." Duncan waves, eating his marshmallow cockily.
"I'm.. out?" Heather asks, not so sure herself.
"Not exactly. Somebody is competing who didn't get an invitation. And so, we're saying goodbye to… Mr. Coconut." He throws a marshmallow at Heather, who eagerly catches her immunity with a sigh of relief.
"Wait.. no! You can't do this! He's the only one who was there for me in my time of need! He's my new little buddy! My survival partner for life!" Owen screams, clutching Mr. Coconut for dear life.
Chris sighs, pinching his nose. "And he's an inanimate object. Chef, take him away."
Chef appears from out of nowhere, grabs Mr. Coconut and struggles to pull him out of Owen's hands. After a brief back and forth, Chef is able to kick Owen's stomach so he falls back and let's go. "Damn, boy. It's a fruit. You need an evaluation or something." Chef shakes his head and walks away.
"Mr. Coconut! NO!... I shall never let go!" Owen proclaims desperately, ending off the episode as the camera zooms out to show the entire island, two choppers bringing the cabins back down to land.
Mid Credits:
Mr. Coconut lays against a folding chair on a tropical island. Next to him in a cup holder is a glass of lemonade with a kiwi against the glass. He smiles optimistically before falling head first onto the sand. Such an inspiration.
Credits resume.