The fog clung to Boney Island like a ghostly shroud, muffling the distant howls of creatures that shouldn't exist. Chris McLean stood confidently at the edge of the rocky shore, his trademark smirk as sharp as ever. Behind him, the island loomed—a shadowy mass of tangled trees, jagged cliffs, and a palpable aura of dread. The camera zoomed in on Chris, who turned to address the audience with exaggerated flair.
"Welcome to Total Drama: Boney Island!" he announced, his voice slicing through the eerie quiet. "This season is bigger, badder, and way more dangerous than ever before. Toxic swamps, mutant-infested jungles, and bone-filled beaches—what's not to love?"
As if on cue, a decrepit ferry appeared through the mist, its engine sputtering like it could give out at any moment. Aboard the ferry, eighteen contestants leaned over the rails, their expressions a mix of excitement and dread. The camera panned to the boat as Chris continued. "These poor souls are competing for one million dollars—but there's a catch. To win, they'll have to endure brutal challenges, backstabbing alliances, and some… very unique locals." At that moment, a mutant squirrel with glowing red eyes scurried past his feet, pausing to glare at the camera before disappearing into the underbrush.
Chris spread his arms wide as if inviting the chaos to come. "With me as your charming host and Chef Hatchet ensuring nobody gets too comfortable, this is going to be a season packed with pain, drama, and plenty of surprises. Let's meet our contestants!"
The ferry docked with a groan, its gangplank thudding onto the rotting dock. One by one, the contestants disembarked, each bringing their own unique energy to the mix. First was Thomas, A vintage camera hung around his neck, and he clutched a battered notebook labeled "Classified." His eyes darted eagerly around the foggy landscape.
"Finally!" Thomas exclaimed, scribbling in his notebook. "The perfect place for extraterrestrial activity. The radiation levels must be off the charts here!"
Chris raised an eyebrow. "You expecting little green men, buddy?"
"Not green," Thomas corrected, adjusting his tinfoil hat. "Usually pale gray, but that's beside the point." He wandered off, muttering about UFO hotspots.
Next came Maggie, her steel-toed boots thudding on the dock as she adjusted her toolbelt. Her patched cargo pants and duct-taped accessories suggested she was ready for action. Maggie glanced at the dilapidated buildings in the distance and grinned.
"Rusty structures, broken tech, and probably some mutant gear waiting to be salvaged? Yeah, I'm gonna like it here."
"Looking for treasure?" Chris asked, smirking.
"More like upgrading my arsenal," Maggie replied, tapping her blowtorch. "This place screams 'DIY heaven.'"
Timothy stepped off the boat next, looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else. His hands were stuffed in the pockets of his dark hoodie, and his scowl was barely hidden beneath his messy hair. "Great. Fog, mutant animals, and the smell of despair. Just what I needed," he muttered.
"Someone's in a good mood," Chris teased, earning a withering glare. "This whole thing's probably rigged anyway," Timothy replied. "But hey, free food, right? Oh wait, there's probably not even that." He sighed and trudged forward, clearly unenthused.
The dock grew louder as Razzy strutted off the ferry, her oversized sunglasses reflecting the dim light. She dragged a leopard-print suitcase behind her, heels clicking on the worn planks. Tossing her blue-streaked hair over her shoulder, she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "Excuse me, is this fog necessary? It's ruining my skin."
Chris grinned. "Welcome to Boney Island. It's not exactly a spa."
"Obviously," Razzy scoffed, pulling out a compact mirror to check her reflection. "But don't worry. This diva always shines, even in the middle of nowhere."
Elliot followed, his athletic bag slung casually over one shoulder. He exuded confidence, his clean-cut look and broad smile practically radiating winner energy. "Looking forward to this, mate," he said, clapping Chris on the shoulder as he passed. "Whatever challenges you throw at me, I'll crush 'em."
Chris chuckled. "Confidence is key."
"Not just confidence," Elliot replied, stretching his arms. "Preparation, skill, and a dash of charm. That's how champions are made."
As Elliot joined the others, Johnny made his entrance. He strolled down the ramp like he was on stage, his cowboy hat tilted low and his guitar case gleaming in the mist. With a dramatic flair, he tipped his hat. "Y'all ready to see a real star in action? 'Cause this cowboy's got talent for days!"
Chris smirked. "You're here to survive, not sing."
Johnny laughed. "Survive? Shoot, I've wrestled gators, ridden bulls, and eaten chili hotter than the devil's own furnace. This island's got nothin' on me!"
The next contestant, Gerald, brought an air of silence and intimidation. His tall frame, tattooed arms, and faint clink of chains on his belt gave him a commanding presence. He didn't say a word as he stepped onto the dock, his dark eyes scanning the group. Chris leaned closer to the camera. "I hope we've got enough insurance for this guy," he whispered.
Rebecca followed closely behind, her leather jacket adorned with spikes and patches. She walked with an air of defiance, her dark eyeliner emphasizing her sharp glare. "So," she said, hands in her pockets, "what's the first challenge? Blowing something up?"
Chris raised a brow. "We're starting with survival, not sabotage."
"Survival's just sabotage with extra steps," Rebecca quipped, smirking as she moved to join the others.
One by one, the rest of the contestants disembarked, each as colorful and distinct as the last. Wanda, a punk rocker with neon pink hair and combat boots, cracked her knuckles and declared, "I don't lose. Got it? Good." Logan shuffled along next, his hoodie pulled tight as he sighed, "This is going to be a disaster." Karla, with her bright yellow backpack and cheerful demeanor, waved enthusiastically. "I'm just here to do my best and make some new friends!" she exclaimed, oblivious to the ominous island atmosphere.
As the last contestant stepped onto the dock, Chris spread his arms wide. "And that's everyone! Now, grab your bags and follow me. Your adventure begins now. Welcome to Total Drama: Boney Island!"
The contestants exchanged wary looks as they followed Chris up the beach, the distant sounds of screeches and snarls growing louder with every step.
"Now lets begin assigning the two teams! When I call your name, you'll come over on the left!" Chris began announcing names. "Thomas, Maggie, Elliot, Venus, Wanda, Rebbeca, Logan, Karla, Theo" Once they all came to the left side, they were given their flag that was the color Green and had a symbol resembling An alligator (or crocodile) skull with two rows of jagged teeth and spikes appearing the back of the head as it was pouring what seemed like Nuclear Waste.
"You all will be known as 'The Hazardous Gators"
"Gators, you get the lovely cabin on the left." Chris gestured to the dilapidated shack leaning precariously to one side. "It comes with a custom skylight—by which I mean a hole in the roof."
"For the rest of you, you'll be on the right! Zane, Gino, RJ, Timothy, Gerald, Johnny, Kimi, Razzy, Cassie! You are hence forth as "The Radioactive Raccoons!" Chris hands them a Red Flag with a symbol of a Raccoon with an unhinged bottom jaw, foaming out of the mouth, and six eyes resembling a spider.
He turned to the other group. "And Raccoons, you get the charming cabin on the right. Pro tip: If you see glowing eyes at night, don't make eye contact. Just… run."
Thomas raised his hand, his notebook in one hand and a pen poised in the other. "About these glowing eyes… would you say they're caused by bioluminescence or some kind of toxic mutation?"
"Why don't you go ask them and find out?" Chris shot back with a grin. Chef Hatchet stomped into view, machete gleaming in one hand. The contestants fell silent as his scowl swept over them. "Move it. Now. Or you'll be bunking in the swamp."
The contestants scrambled to grab their bags and head toward the tree line, grumbling about the state of their new living quarters. Razzy dragged her oversized suitcase behind her with a theatrical groan, while Johnny cheerfully strummed his guitar as he walked. Gerald and Rebecca exchanged a nod of mutual understanding, while Kimi hummed an upbeat tune to herself as she skipped along.
Chris turned back to the camera with a smug grin. "And that's how it's done, folks. Teams are locked in, cabins are ready—sort of—and tomorrow, the games officially begin. Spoiler alert: things are going to get messy! Stay tuned."
The camera panned to the cabins as the contestants filed in, the faint sound of doors creaking open mingling with distant mutant howls from the jungle. The island's oppressive atmosphere seemed to close in around them as the first night began.
"Our first challenge will begin momentarily," Chris announced, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "But before you all settle in, there's one important thing we need to take care of. Everyone here is required to be vaccinated—just to avoid any… unfortunate accidents that might mess up your genes!"
The contestants exchanged confused glances as Chef Hatchet appeared, holding a large syringe filled with a glowing, unnervingly fluorescent liquid.
"Uh… what do you mean by 'vaccinated'?" Razzy asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
Chris chuckled, clearly enjoying the tension. "In case the team names and the… unique ambiance didn't give it away, this island is crawling with the same mutant freakshows you all saw back in Season Four! Except now, they've got some new friends, because, well—life finds a way. And speaking of transformations…" He smirked. "One of our previous contestants has gone through quite the impressive glow-up, if I do say so myself.
"But don't worry, folks!" he continued, his voice dripping with mock reassurance. "To keep you safe from the effects of the radioactive waste you'll be interacting with—a lot—I've got just the thing: this serum! A quick jab, and you'll be immune to any unpleasant side effects. Probably."
"You mean to tell us that not only are we stuck on an island that came out of a Voodoo's Nightmare, but we're gonna be dealing with monsters that could practically kills us around every corner" Timothy argued.
"Do you love it when they don't read find prints?" Chris whispered to Chef as they both chuckled. "This serum will ensure that if you encounter any of our wildlife or any of the green goop, it'll keep from turning into another Dakotazoid! Now, one at time! Once you get your shots, gather at the edge of the jungle nearby and we'll begin!"
Some of the contestants gave some worried looks, some seemed interested, some were indifferent. One by one, they all get injected by Chef before they all now have been given their shot.
The contestants gathered at the edge of the jungle, a clearing littered with rusting barrels glowing faintly green in the dim light. Chris McLean stood before them, holding a clipboard and wearing a ridiculous radiation suit—purely for dramatic effect.
"Welcome to your first challenge: Radioactive Rampage!" Chris announced, spreading his arms theatrically. "In this high-stakes scavenger hunt, you'll race through this mutant-infested jungle to collect barrels of 'radioactive fuel' and bring them back to your team's base. Easy, right?"
A mutant howl echoed from the trees, and several contestants exchanged uneasy glances. Logan muttered, "Of course it's not easy. We're doomed."
Chris smirked, ignoring him. "Each barrel is worth a point. Some are close by and easy to grab, but others? Let's just say they're in less-than-ideal locations. Oh, and did I mention the barrels are heavy? You'll need two people to carry them."
Cassie raised her hand. "What kind of mutants are we dealing with?" she asked, her voice calm but curious. Chris grinned. "You'll find out soon enough! Spoiler alert: they're not fans of uninvited guests."
Chef Hatchet stomped into view, holding a foghorn. "When this horn blows, you move! Teams, get ready at your starting points!"
The teams split off, eyeing the glowing barrels scattered throughout the jungle. Razzy sneered at the nearest one. "Ugh, do we have to touch those? They look like they'll ruin my nails."
"Only if you want to win," snapped Johnny, already stretching. "Come on, y'all. Let's show those Gators who's boss."
Over at the Hazardous Gators' starting line, Maggie adjusted her tool belt, nodding toward a cluster of barrels deeper in the jungle. "Those are worth it. Bigger points, but riskier. We go for those first."
Rebecca smirked, rolling her shoulders. "Finally, some action. Let's do it." Chris raised a hand, his grin widening. "Alright, campers! On your marks… get set…" Chef Hatchet blew the foghorn, and chaos erupted.
The Hazardous Gators, led by Thomas, darted into the jungle with their crudely drawn map. "Okay," Thomas began, scanning the landmarks, "there's a cluster of barrels marked near a ravine. It's risky, but they're worth more points if we can grab them early."
Elliot nodded, stretching his arms. "Ravine sounds good. Let's move."
"Yeah, sure," Wanda said with a smirk. "Let's just hope we don't die on the way."
The team weaved through the dense jungle, avoiding glowing puddles and suspicious vines. When they reached the ravine, a single barrel gleamed on the far side, perched precariously on a rocky outcropping. A rotting log served as the only bridge across the gap. "Great," Rebecca muttered, crossing her arms. "A death trap. Who's going first?"
Elliot stepped up confidently. "I've got this." He tested the log, which creaked ominously beneath his weight. "It's fine. Just don't look down." He carefully crossed to the other side, followed by Maggie, who carried a rope.
As they began tying the barrel for transport, a low growl echoed through the ravine. A massive, two-headed boar with glowing red eyes charged out of the underbrush, its tusks gleaming with radioactive ooze. "Oh, come on!" Logan shouted, backing away in panic.
"Relax!" Wanda snapped, picking up a nearby rock. "We just need to distract it."
Elliot waved his arms and yelled, drawing the boar's attention. "Hey, over here!" he shouted, sprinting in a wide circle. The boar snorted and chased after him, leaving the others to haul the barrel across the log.
Thomas, meanwhile, was furiously scribbling notes. "This thing is incredible. Two heads? Bioluminescent tusks? This is exactly what I was hoping for!"
Rebecca glared at him. "Less science, more helping!"
Confessional - Thomas
"You think I'm just gonna past the opportunity to discover some unnatural materials that are just casually sitting around? We could be standing on a real ancient burial ground as we speak! Gotta make sure to get everything there is to find!"
With some effort—and a few close calls—they managed to drag the barrel back to their base. The boar, now bored with Elliot, retreated into the jungle with an irritated grunt.
"That was… way too close," Logan muttered, still pale.
"Hey, we got the barrel, didn't we?" Wanda said, grinning. "Now let's grab another one."
The Radioactive Raccoons took a different approach, with Cassie leading the way through a swampy area marked on their map. "There should be some barrels in the water," she explained, gesturing toward the glowing patches ahead.
When they reached the swamp, several barrels were visible, half-submerged in green sludge. Unfortunately, the water was crawling with oversized leech-like creatures, each pulsating with radioactive goo.
Razzy recoiled in horror. "Oh, absolutely not. I'm not going anywhere near that disgusting sludge!"
"Relax," Cassie said, tying a rope around a nearby tree. "We don't need to get in the water. We can lasso the barrels and pull them to shore." Zane grinned, pulling out a GoPro strapped to his chest. "This is awesome! Giant leeches? Toxic sludge? It's like a survival movie!"
As Cassie began securing the first barrel, Timothy paced nervously. "This is insane. One of those things is going to latch onto us, and then we're going to mutate, and then—"
"Stop whining and help," Gerald interrupted, his voice low and calm.
Together, Cassie and Gerald pulled the first barrel to shore. One of the leeches latched onto the side, oozing green liquid. Without hesitation, Timothy grabbed a stick and knocked it off with a grimace. "This is so gross," he muttered.
They managed to secure a second barrel before the leeches began writhing toward the shore. "Time to bounce!" Razzy shouted, already backing away.
With two barrels in tow, the team retreated to their base, narrowly avoiding the swarm of glowing leeches.
The next twenty minutes were a blur of chaos. The Hazardous Gators stumbled across a half-buried barrel near an abandoned research station. Maggie used her blowtorch to free it from the vines, while Wanda and Rebecca stood guard against a lurking mutant vulture.
The Radioactive Raccoons found a cluster of smaller barrels on a rocky hillside. Gino nearly lost his footing, but Johnny grabbed his arm just in time. Together, they hauled the barrels down, with Zane excitedly filming the entire ordeal for his "extreme challenge reel."
Back at the clearing, Chris stood beside Chef Hatchet, grinning as the exhausted teams returned with their final barrels. "And that's time!" Chris announced, glancing at the scoreboard. "Chef, let's see how they did."
Chef stepped forward, his clipboard in hand. "Hazardous Gators: five barrels. Radioactive Raccoons: six barrels."
The Raccoons erupted into cheers (well, most of them—Gerald just nodded, and Razzy looked unimpressed). The Gators groaned, with Rebecca muttering, "Figures."
Chris clapped his hands. "Raccoons, congratulations! You're safe from elimination tonight. Gators, I'll see you at the bonfire. Someone's going home."
As the Gators trudged back to their cabin, the tension among them was palpable. Meanwhile, the Raccoons celebrated their win, with Zane declaring it the "most epic day ever."
Chris turned back to the camera, his grin widening. "And there you have it, folks! Mutants, mayhem, and misery—and it's only day one. Who will be the first to take the dreaded walk of shame? Stay tuned for more drama on Total Drama: Boney Island!"
The camera panned up to the darkening sky, where the silhouette of a winged mutant flew across the glowing moon.
Back at the Hazardous Gators' cabin, the atmosphere was thick with tension. The team slumped into their barely-intact bunks, the creaking wood barely holding their weight. A single flickering lantern provided dim light, casting shadows on their frustrated faces.
"Well, that sucked," Wanda said, breaking the silence as she cracked her knuckles. "We lost because people couldn't keep up."
Logan groaned from his corner, pulling his hood tighter over his head. "Sure, blame the guy who almost got flattened by a radioactive boar."
Rebecca scoffed. "Maybe if you'd done anything other than scream and freeze, we'd have gotten that barrel back faster."
"Hey!" Karla interjected, raising her hands in a calming gesture. "Let's not turn on each other, okay? We can't afford to fall apart this early."
"Falling apart already," Timothy muttered under his breath.
Thomas leaned against the cabin wall, flipping through his notebook. "Look, the mutant situation was unpredictable. I think we did okay for our first challenge, all things considered."
"'Okay' doesn't cut it," Wanda shot back. "We need to focus on who dragged us down. It's elimination night, and someone's gotta go."
"Yeah," Rebecca added, her eyes narrowing. "So let's be real: who was the weakest link?"
Confessional - Wanda
Wanda stared into the camera, her voice dripping with frustration. "It's obvious Logan was dead weight. That boar came at us, and all he did was whine. If he stays, we'll lose every time."
Confessional - Logan
Logan sighed, his head resting in his hands. "I know I'm not the strongest, but I didn't deserve all that blame. This place is a death trap. Can you blame me for being freaked out?"
Maggie, seated cross-legged on the floor, tapped her blowtorch thoughtfully. "Look, the boar wasn't Logan's fault. That thing was a walking disaster. If we're gonna pick someone to vote out, it should be based on teamwork."
Elliot, who had been pacing near the door, chimed in. "I agree with Maggie. The real issue was time management. We were slow." He glanced at Thomas. "Maybe next time, less note-taking and more action, huh?" Thomas frowned, closing his notebook. "You're blaming me for documenting the most fascinating mutant I've ever seen?"
Rebecca rolled her eyes. "We're blaming you for wasting time while the rest of us were hauling barrels and dodging danger."
"Enough with the mutant journal!" Wanda snapped. "Save it for after the competition."
Confessional - Thomas
Thomas clutched his notebook protectively. "They don't get it. Every detail I record could be crucial. Besides, I pulled my weight. They just need someone to blame."
The bickering grew louder until Karla stood up and clapped her hands. "Stop! Can we just talk this through without tearing each other apart?"
"Good luck with that," Rebecca muttered.
"Okay," Karla continued, undeterred. "Logan panicked, yes, but that doesn't mean he deserves to go. And Thomas may have been distracted, but he was part of the team. Maybe we need to think about who's really bringing us together—or pulling us apart."
Elliot nodded thoughtfully. "Fair point. This game is about survival, and that includes making sure we can work as a team."
"Then it's settled," Wanda said, smirking. "We vote for whoever's the weakest link. No hard feelings, right?"
Logan shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Thomas, who avoided his gaze. The air in the cabin grew heavy as the group began to quietly strategize, each weighing alliances and weaknesses.
Confessional - Karla
Karla frowned, her voice soft but firm. "I don't think it's fair to vote someone off just because they had a rough moment. Everyone deserves a second chance, right? I just hope the others see it that way."
Confessional - Rebecca
Rebecca leaned back, smirking slightly. "This game isn't about being nice. It's about winning. If someone's holding us back, they're gone. Simple as that."
Confessional: Elliot
Elliot crossed his arms, his expression serious. "We can't afford to let emotions get in the way of strategy. Tonight's vote has to set the tone for the rest of the game."
As the sun dipped lower on the horizon, Chris's voice boomed over a loudspeaker outside the cabin. "Gators, it's bonfire time! Pack your drama and head to the pit!"
The group stood in silence, tension thick in the air. Each grabbed their belongings and filed out of the cabin, their footsteps heavy as they marched toward their first elimination. At the bonfire ceremony, where the team will reveal their votes and Chris announces who will take the first walk of shame.
The Hazardous Gators arrived at the bonfire pit in heavy silence. The circle of tiki torches flickered ominously around a cracked stone fire pit, casting shadows over the contestants' faces. Chris McLean stood at the center, a smug grin plastered across his face. In front of him sat a tray of marshmallows, each one faintly glowing green.
"Welcome to your first bonfire ceremony, Hazardous Gators!" Chris began, his tone dripping with mock enthusiasm. "Tonight, one of you will be the very first contestant to take the Walk of Shame, hop onto the Boat of Losers, and leave Boney Island… forever."
The contestants shifted uncomfortably, their gazes darting between each other.
Chris picked up a marshmallow and continued. "If I call your name, you're safe, and you get to enjoy one of these delicious, possibly radioactive marshmallows. If you don't get one, well… better luck next time."
Chef Hatchet appeared from the shadows, his arms crossed, silently judging the group as Chris relished the tension.
"Let's get started!" Chris announced. He picked up the first marshmallow. "Elliot. You're safe."
Elliot exhaled and stepped forward confidently to claim his marshmallow, shooting a reassuring nod at the rest of the team.
"Maggie."
Maggie got up without hesitation, grabbing her marshmallow with a casual smirk.
"Rebecca."
Rebecca walked up, her expression unreadable as she grabbed her marshmallow and returned to her spot.
"Wanda."
Wanda cracked her knuckles and grinned, snagging her marshmallow. "Too easy," she muttered as she sat down.
"Karla."
Karla let out a soft sigh of relief, her nervous smile visible as she accepted her marshmallow.
Chris glanced down at the tray. Only two marshmallows remained. He paused for dramatic effect, savoring the mounting tension between Logan and Thomas.
"Theo."
Theo shuffled forward lazily, taking his marshmallow with an indifferent shrug.
"And now," Chris said, his grin widening, "it all comes down to this: Logan… and Thomas."
Confessional: Thomas
Thomas adjusted his tinfoil hat, his expression tense. "I knew I'd be on the chopping block, but I didn't expect it to be this close. If they vote me off for keeping notes, they're losing someone who actually understands this island!"
Confessional: Logan
Logan ran a hand through his hair, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to go home. I know I messed up, but I can do better. I just need one more chance."
Chris drew out the silence, glancing between the two contestants with exaggerated pity. "Logan… Thomas… both of you made some, let's call them, interesting contributions today. But only one of you is staying in this game. The final marshmallow goes to…"
The camera zoomed in on Logan's anxious face, then cut to Thomas gripping his notebook. The music swelled ominously.
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"…Thomas."
Thomas exhaled sharply, stepping forward to claim the marshmallow. Logan froze, his face falling as the realization hit.
"Sorry, Logan," Chris said with mock sympathy. "Looks like your time on Boney Island is officially over. Any last words?"
Logan hesitated, staring at the ground before finally mumbling, "Good luck, I guess."
Confessional: Wanda
Wanda smirked into the camera. "Logan had to go. If you can't handle a mutant boar, you definitely can't handle this island."
Confessional - Karla
Karla frowned, looking genuinely sad. "I wish we could have given Logan another chance. I don't think he deserved to go this soon."
Logan grabbed his bag and walked toward the dock, where the Boat of Losers waited. The rest of the team watched in silence as he climbed aboard, the motor sputtering to life and carrying him away into the fog.
Chris turned back to the remaining Gators, clapping his hands together. "And there you have it, folks! The first elimination of the season. Better step up your game, because there's plenty more mutants, drama, and backstabbing to come. Sweet dreams!"
Chef snuffed out the fire with a bucket of green sludge as the contestants made their way back to the cabin, still processing the night's events.
High above the jungle, a glowing, winged mutant soared past the moon, its guttural screech echoing across the island.
"Logan, say hello to your next stop to Loser Town! This season's new elimination device...The Slingshot of Shame! Chef will sling as far as he can and you'll be sent soaring into the stars!"
Logan didn't even bother worrying as he put on the helmet provided to him, staring into the dark water. "I knew I wouldn't last long, but it still sucks," he muttered to himself. "I just… hope the others don't get eaten or something." The camera panned to the foggy horizon as Logan is flunged into the distance, marking the end of Logan's short-lived journey on Boney Island.
Votes
Thomas - Logan
Maggie - Logan
Elliot - Thomas
Rebecca - Logan
Wanda - Thomas
Theo - Thomas
Karla - Logan
Logan - Thomas
Venus - Logan
Results
Thomas - 4 votes
Logan - 5 votes
Ranking
18th Place: Logan