The morning sun greeted the remaining campers with unusual peacefulness. No loudspeaker had woken them up before dawn, no helicopter was being flown over them, no Chef on the intercom. In fact, the only real noise was the snores from the teens as they recovered from Chef's 'training' camp. So of course that meant Chris was going to switch things up and wake them with a plane.

As he did, the first to awaken was Owen. "Oh, not again!" he cried out, flashing back to the phobia challenge. He jumped out of bed and tried to dive under Justin's bed. Key word being tried, as the large boy became stuck the moment his head and shoulders were wedged under. "Uh… guys?" he said with a nervous laugh.

Both Trent and Justin rolled their eyes before getting out of bed, grabbing a leg each, and yanking Owen out from under the bed. Once that was handled, they both started getting dressed.

They joined the other Gophers and the Bass outside, all of them sending glares into the sky at the airplane Chris was flying. "I'm really running out of patience with this guy," Leshawna stated, and several of them nodded in agreement as they watched the plane fly closer.

And lower.

And then even closer.

Then, just over the propeller, they could hear their host yell "INCOMING!"

Every one of them either dropped to the ground or dived out of the way, and the plane passed just over their heads. Chris cackled with laughter as he flew past them. "This is so great! Once I have my license, I'm sure it'll be even better!"

Bridgette stared. "Who let him fly a plane without a pilot's license?!" she demanded.

Confessional Stall - Chef

"And what exactly am I supposed to do? Put the keys away while I'm asleep? Chris has the key to the key cabinet!" he groused.

As Chris brought the plane to a stop behind the cabins, he lowered the window and grinned back at them. "Just getting you all in the mood. Because today we have the…" he began, before whipping out a megaphone. "Extreme Sports Challenge!" he yelled into it.

Some of the campers, including Gwen and Liam, covered their ears in response. "It's too early for this…" they both moaned.

Chris continued "This week's challenge has three parts. First up is the… Extreme Sofa Skydiving! One person from each team will dive out of this very plane onto a sofa down below. Like so." He waved his hand towards the ground near the back of the plane, where two interns pushed a sofa bed into place. The side door slid open and Chef stepped forward. He then jumped out of the plane and onto the sofa… which flipped shut and trapped him in.

Chef gave a series of muffled screams, but after the last challenge not even DJ or Daphne were in a hurry to help him out. "Of course, you'll be doing that from a few thousand feet in the air. And using these," Chris told them. He held up a pair of old, partially-eaten parachute packs, making them gasp.

Courtney crossed her arms. "There's no way those things are legally safe to use!" she protested.

Chris shrugged. "They worked when we tested them before the show," he said, neglecting to mention that they were tested at ground level. "But don't worry, because you're not one of the jumpers," he told her, making her sigh in relief. "That distinction belongs to Harold and…" He checked a slip of paper. "Leshawna!"

Both of them gulped, before giving each other a look. "I do not feel good about this," Leshawna stated.

Harold nodded. "Suddenly, I'm thinking about all the things I have yet to say or do," he said, his gaze lingering on the sassy girl when she turned away.

"That's the spirit!" Chris said 'encouragingly'. "Moving on, the second part of the challenge will be the Extreme Moose Rodeo!" he yelled. They looked to see a pen set up by the woods, which indeed had an adult male moose standing in it. "Contestants will do their best to ride the moose for eight seconds. Failure to do so will result in you being launched into a pile of old laundry."

An intern wearing a gas mask then dropped said laundry pile in front of them. The closest campers, Heather and DJ, both covered their noses. "That's just nasty, man. And is that… a jockstrap?" DJ asked, pointing at the top of the pile.

"Yes it is. Chef's, in fact," Chris answered, and they took several steps away. "And lucky for you, you're one of the riders!" he added. "For the Gophers, we have Lindsay!"

"Great…" DJ said while Lindsay paled.

"And the final part of the challenge is…Extreme Seadoo Water Skiing!" Chris said. "The contestants will water ski a race course on land, picking up as many flags as possible on the way to the finish line, while someone picked by the opposite team drives the seadoo and tries to make them fail."

Gwen raised her hand. "We're supposed to water ski on land? How?" she asked.

"Simple. With great difficulty," he told her, getting a glare in return. "Skiing for the Killer Bass will be done by Daphne…"

The brunette grinned. "Now this is the kind of adrenaline ride I joined this show for," she said with a grin.

"And the skier for the Gophers will be Gwen," he finished, causing her glare to double in intensity. "The team to win the most challenges gets bragging rights, immunity tonight and wins a trip to… the Multi Massage Mobile Shower!" That was when he pointed out the mobile shower parked next to the main lodge, which his flying had done a good job of distracting them from.

Owen shrugged, holding a bag of marshmallows. "A shower? Big deal," he said while chewing.

Meanwhile, Heather's eyes widened. "Did you say massage?" she said, and Chris nodded. "We have to win this," she told them, looking at her teammates with a fire in her eyes.

"I agree," Courtney said, ignoring the twinge of disgust she felt as she said that. "After those communal showers, to feel completely clean again after weeks…" she trailed off.

"That's everything, I think. You've got twenty minutes for breakfast, then be back here for the…Extreme Sports Challenge!" he declared, before starting up the plane again and flying away. The takeoff also kicked up a cloud of dirt, which made them start coughing or their eyes to water. Yet another thing to dislike their host for.

Breakfast that day consisted of paste, as per the norm. This paste, however, wasn't even the flour white it usually was, but a dull gray. It seemed Chef was being a bit spiteful about them leaving him stuck in the sofa. Most of the people from both teams gave their portions to Owen, who ate them with a relish. As he picked up one plate and slid its entire contents into his mouth, he swallowed it whole.

A moment later, he burped and a piece of folded paper fluttered out of his mouth. Gwen, who had been standing behind him, caught it and opened it. Behind her, Bridgette asked "What is it?"

"It's… a poem," she said after a moment. Showing it to her, she added "A love poem."

Bridgette leaned in to read it. "'You make my heart pound. For the girl with smold'ring eyes, and hair dark as night'," she read. "Oh, it's a haiku!"

"Right. And whoever wrote it has a huge crush," Gwen said. "Who do you think wrote it?"

The surfer was about to say she had no idea when a memory came to her. A conversation, held on a boat and in confidence. "Uh… I don't know," she said, before quickly adding "Maybe it was from Trent. He's been totally crushing on you."

Gwen smiled and looked away slightly. "You think so?" she said.

"Absolutely. I've seen the way he always swipes a muffin or something extra for you," Bridgette revealed, making her suppress a blush. "It seems like the kind of thing Geoff would do too, before…"

Gwen's smile faded, seeing the sad look on her face. "Hey, I'm sure that Geoff would be showering you with sappy stuff like this if he were here," she said, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

That got Bridgette's smile to come back at least partially. "Thanks. So, just in case it isn't Trent, that still leaves five other guys on the island. We should try to figure out who it was," she said. 'If Gwen finds out without me telling her, then it's all good, right? Right,' she mentally assured herself.

The goth gained a mischievous look. "How about we make it more interesting? The first person to figure it out gets two nights' desserts from the other," she challenged.

Bridgette went still for a brief second. "S-Sure," she said, silently bemoaning the loss of her future desserts.

Confessional Stall - Bridgette

"Harold, if it really was you that wrote that poem, then you owe me big time," she stated.

Once breakfast was finished, the two teams met on the beach in front of the plane, where two sofa beds had been set up. From inside the cockpit, Chris said "Now remember, to deploy your parachutes, you pull the blue cord then the red. Meanwhile, the campers on the ground can wheel their sofa bed into place to help their dying–I mean, diving teammate."

Leshawna did her best not to gulp as she put her parachute on. That was when she noticed Heather drawing a chalk outline on the ground. "What's that for?" she asked.

Heather grinned. "Oh, it's just for when your teammates leave you splattered," she said airily.

Leshawna glared at her, before giving the strap of her parachute another tug. Frowning worriedly, she said "You guys be careful with placing that bed, you hear?" to her teammates.

Trent nodded. "We've got you on this," he assured her.

She nodded back before boarding the plane next to Harold. Chef, who did have a pilot's license, was thankfully flying it this time. The plane started up with a grumble before pulling forward, gaining speed, and then taking off into the sky. Higher and higher it went, and both teens could see Camp Wawanakwa grow smaller as they gained altitude. Eventually, even the buildings were barely more than shapes down below.

They were both handed helmets that they immediately strapped on, shaking nervously. "This is it. This is how I'm going. As a smear on a crusty, disgusting island," Leshawna said.

Harold tried to give her a brave smile despite the quivering in his knees. "I'm scared, too," he said. "In fact, since this might be the last thing either of us do, there's something I wanted to say."

She gave him a raised eyebrow, but before she could ask him what, the door slid open and they both looked down, seeing the long fall down to the ground. Then Chris chose that time to approach them with a sheaf of papers. "If I could just have you both sign these!" he called over the wind.

Leshawna frowned. "I thought we already signed insurance forms before the show!" she yelled back.

"Right. But these are organ donation forms!" he told her. "I've got this idea for a cannibal eating challenge, and having free props will make it easier to pitch to the producers!"

Both of them stared at him. A cannibal eating challenge?!

Leshawna gave Chris a look of anger eclipsing anything she had shown so far. "Oh, that is IT!" she yelled, before grabbing the papers from his hands. She turned and tossed them out the door. As they scattered to wind, she grabbed a spare parachute and tossed it at Chris. He reflexively caught it, and Leshawna continued "I have HAD it! Had it with these challenges, with this disgusting food, and especially. With. You!"

Then she grabbed Chis by the arm and threw him out of the plane.

"AAAAAAaaaahhhh!" he screamed as he plummeted, quickly falling out of view.

Leshawna dusted her hands off and gave one more look to Harold. "See on the ground, honey!" she called, before jumping out as well.

Back on ground level, Trent, Gwen, Justin and Lindsay were pushing their sofa bed along the beach.

As they did, Gwen looked over to their resident guitarist. "So… how do you feel about poetry?" she asked casually.

Trent hummed, looking up in thought. "It's pretty nice, I guess. Writing a poem's kind of like writing a song. Especially if the lines rhyme with each other, you know?"

Her smile faltered. "So… just poetry that rhymes is interesting to you?"

"Sort of, yeah," he answered. Then Trent looked at her again, and his eyes widened. "Unless you were making it! I'm sure any poem of yours would be great," he quickly added.

Gwen suppressed a snort. "Thanks," she drawled, before focusing on pushing the sofa.

Confessional Stall - Gwen

"Okay, so it wasn't Trent that wrote the love poem. After he played that song for me during the talent show, I was sure it was him," she said. "Still, at least that narrows it down. And I seriously doubt it was Owen or Harold."

As they continued pushing, they began to hear a faint female cheering. Looking into the sky, they saw a figure quickly descending despite having deployed their parachute. "Let's go!" Trent called, and all four of them began to push.

Except the sofa didn't budge anymore.

"What the–?" Gwen muttered, before pushing harder. "Come on, move!" All four of them pushed, groaning and straining, yet the bed only moved a few more inches.

"How did it get twice as heavy?!" Lindsay complained. They got their answer in the form of snoring. Looking over the back of the sofa, they saw that none other than Owen was lying on it, sound asleep. "Otis! Wake up!" she said, but he just continued to snore.

They switched targets and all worked as one to try shoving the large teen off the bed. After three good shoves however, he hadn't budged at all.

"Uh, guys?!" they could hear Leshawna called, and looked up to see her struggling to steer her parachute towards the sofa.

Lindsay cupped her hands around her mouth. "We can't move it, sorry!" she called.

"What do you mean you can't–?!" Leshawna yelled back down. As she got closer to the ground, however, the reason came into view. "Owen, you oversized eating machine!" she called angrily. Then the wind picked up, and her parachute wobbled. "Wh-Whoa-oa, whoa!" she shouted, trying to keep her on a path towards the sofa.

But she was too unstable, and the chute swerved around to head straight for the water. "Aw, come o–!" Leshawna yelled before landing in the water with a splash.

Harold said nothing for a moment, stunned at what he had just witnessed Leshawna do. "That… was…" he said, before sparkles appeared in his eyes. "Awesome," he said. He looked down at his pack. "Blue, then red. Blue one, red two," he muttered, taking a deep breath and jumping as well.

Less than a minute later, on the other end of the beach, the Bass perked up upon hearing a male scream. "Harold!" Bridgette called, beginning to scan the skies.

But Courtney frowned. "It sounds a bit high-pitched to be Harold," she pointed. But then she spotted a figure flailing around as they fell. "Never mind, come on!"

The Bass quickly pushed their sofa across the sand. Despite his flailing, Harold was managing to fall in a relatively straight direction, making it easy for them to position it right and deploy the bed. Once the figure came into better view, however, all of them stared in surprise. "Chris?!" they shouted together.

"AAAA–Oh, hey! Guys!" Chris shouted, his flailing coming to a stop as he spotted them.

Liam frowned. "Not Harold, then," and reached to fold up the bed.

But then Chris yelled "Do not move that soft landing!" and he froze. Although they looked at him with annoyed expressions, Chris had a wide smile as he gently landed on the sofa. "Ah, sweet, sweet land," he said, eyes closed.

Heather crossed her arms. "Yeah, great. Now can you move so we can catch Harold before he–" she began, before cutting off as another shout reached their ears.

"Incoming!" they heard, and turned to see Harold rapidly fly down in their direction with his chute out.

Chris's eyes widened and he ditched his pack before diving off the sofa. And just in time, as Harold crashed into it feet-first a moment later, tumbling towards the back.

Except DJ was there to catch him before he could fall off and eat sand. "I gotcha, man!" he called, holding him in his arms.

Harold let out a relieved sigh, glad to just be safe again. "Thanks for the save. Really," he said.

"No worries," DJ said with a smile, before the parachute fell over both of them as well as the rest of the Bass.

Chris patted down his shirt and ran a hand through his hair. Once he made sure he was presentable he pulled out his loudspeaker and announced "Well, even if I wasn't thrown out of a freaking plane, the Killer Bass are the winners! The score stands at 1-0!"

Daphne managed to pull the parachute off herself. "Wait a second. You were what now?" she asked.

The host firmly ignored her and said "We now move on to the second part: The Extreme Moose Rodeo!" Then he walked away before any of them could ask him about what he had said.

As she came ashore, Leshawna pulled her hair from over her face. "That was beyond worth it," she said with a grin.

Once the teams were assembled before the moose pen, it was decided that the Gophers would go first.

As Lindsay slowly climbed up the ladder on the side of the pen, she said "I don't know about this. Is this like the pony rides they always have at birthday parties?"

Putting aside the fact that Lindsay went to enough birthdays with ponies to assume they all had them, Gwen said "Um, sort of. But a lot faster and... less stable."

The blonde gulped and finished hauling herself onto the moose. As she stood on its back, she paused. "Huh… this actually kind of reminds me of when I'm on top of the cheerleaders' pyramid," she said. "I think I can do this!"

Chris smirked. "Let's see, shall we? Chef?" he asked, and the large man hesitantly walked in front of the pen.

However, rather than wait for him to unlock, the moose simply grunted and surged forward, shattering the wooden beams like they were sticks. "Whoa!" Chef called, but had no chance to dodge and was run over.

Lindsay also was not given time to sit in the saddle rather than stand in it. "Hey! Nice moosey! Nice!" she called, struggling to maintain her balance. A few seconds later she found it, and the other campers stared as she stayed on the moose. "This is just like the top of the pyramid!" she said, constantly adjusting her feet to keep her balance.

Heather's jaw hung open. "She's… still wearing heels," she thought aloud, looking at the blonde's cowboy boots.

Then the moose skidded to a stop and Lindsay began to pitch forward. Only for her to grab the mouse's horns and perform a handstand on top of them. It huffed and bucked its head, and she launched herself off before re-landing on her feet on its back.

"And that is… time!" Chris declared, causing the moose to skid to a stop again. This time, Lindsay leaped off its back with a flip, and landed with her arms spread wide. "Lindsay takes the gold home for the Screaming Gophers!"

"Alright!" Owen called, while Gwen said "Lindsay, you rule!"

The blonde blushed. "Aw, you guys…" she said with a smile.

Confessional Stall - Lindsay

"Not only have I been my school's homecoming queen every year since I was a freshman, I'm also the leader of our cheerleading squad!" she revealed. "Some people say it's only because Daddy's name is on the auditorium, but I'm sure it's really because of how pretty I am," she said confidently, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Let's see if the Killer Bass can match that. You're up!" Chris declared.

DJ slowly approached the moose, who just gave him a flat stare. "Hey there, big guy. I ain't gonna hurt you," he said gently, flashing the moose a polite smile.

The moose simply continued staring at him.

DJ hesitated. "Well, here I go then," he said, before grabbing the mouse's side and pulling himself on. "See? No big deal," he said, giving it a pat on the head. That was apparently the wrong move, as the mouse's eyes bulged with sudden rage. It let out a loud bellow before taking off, doing every single thing in its power to throw him off. "Aah! Down, boy! Steady!" he yelled, but the moose didn't respond.

In fact, it swung its head back to try to hit him with its antlers, forcing DJ to let go and lean back. And the moose took that as an opportunity to buck him off. The large teen spun in the air for a moment, then the moose kicked him with both rear hooves and sent him flying into the laundry pile.

"Oooooh, that had to sting!" Chris said. "Editing team, make sure to include a slow-mo replay of that!" he ordered.

DJ emerged from the pile a moment later, swaying and nursing the side of his head. "Did… we win?" he asked dazedly.

"Eh, not quite. In fact, this round goes to the Screaming Gophers!" Chris replied. "Which ties the scores just in time for the final challenge!"

DJ simply groaned and fell back into the pile, prompting a retching Daphne to try to fish him out. Once he was free, they joined the other Bass in heading for the ski course. As they walked, Liam noticed Gwen move near him. "Something I can help you with?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well…" Gwen began, before shrugging. It worked last time. "How do you feel about poetry?"

The redhead thought that over for a moment, mostly about why she would care about such a thing. It wasn't as if they had really talked much since the show started. "I think it's a creative form of expression," he said neutrally.

She hummed. "So, is it the sort of thing you see yourself doing?" she said.

Liam suppressed a frown. Okay, now he was really curious what this was about. Though, he got the sense she wouldn't just tell if he asked. "If I have a good enough reason too," he said, before remembering his image. "It sounds like a lot of work, after all." Then he tacked on a yawn to sell it.

Gwen nodded. "Just wondering. Thanks," she said, and he nodded back as she moved away.

Confessional Stall - Liam

"The only scenario where I can see myself writing poetry is either for a challenge or if I'm stupidly infatuated with someone," he declared. Then he paused. "Hmm… After the last challenge… Courtney wouldn't have put Gwen up to ask that just to gauge my reaction to that kiss. That's just overkill… right?"

At the ski course, Chris said "Well, the team that wins this challenge gets tonight's immunity and that trip to the swanky massage and shower. First off, choose your drivers!"

Heather and Courtney both immediately called "I'll drive!"

Then they glared at each other, "Have you ever driven a jet ski before?" Heather asked.

"Yes, actually, I have. Along with a car, a bus, and even a boat," the C.I.T. shot back. "Now, do you want to win that shower experience or not?"

"I do want to win, which is why I should drive!" Heather said fiercely.

The two of them growled at each other. Daphne, standing next to Gwen in a red one-piece bathing suit, just face-palmed. "Seriously?" she muttered.

In her own bathing suit, Gwen shook her head. "Can we just get this over with?" she called.

They looked over at her, then back at each other. After a moment, Courtney said "You know what, fine! Go ahead and be the driver. And if we lose this challenge, I'm laying all the blame at your feet!"

"Since we won't lose, that's fine by me," Heather said, taking the keys from Chris with a triumphant smirk.

"Excellent. Your driver, Screaming Gophers?" the host asked.

The Gophers looked at each other. "So… who's the best driver here?" Trent asked.

Owen shook his head. "I've still only got my learner's permit," he admitted.

"I've got a license," Leshawna offered. "I can do it."

"Sounds good. Then in that case, Killer Bass, you and Leshawna are first on the chopping block!" Chris told them.

Daphne grimaced but put the skis on. "This is going to suck," she said plainly.

As she got into position, Gwen leaned over to Justin. Third time's the charm. "I was wondering: how do you feel about poetry?" she asked.

Justin shrugged his shoulders but didn't say anything. She frowned. "Okay… Do you see yourself writing poetry?"

He shrugged again.

At that point, Gwen gave up subtlety and asked "Have you written any lately?" That time he shook his head, making Gwen groan before walking away.

Once Daphne was ready and Leshawna was on the seadoo, Chris held up a checkered flag. "Ready? And… go!" he called.

The moment the flag was down, Leshawna revved the engine and shot forward. "Whoa!" Daphne shouted, one of her skis immediately catching in the mud. That was one ripped off her foot, but the other stayed on. "Oh crap, oh no, oh crap!" she said, struggling to ski with only one ski. Despite this, she still had a grin on her face, feeling the fear and adrenaline pumping through her veins.

As they came to the ramp with the first flag, Leshawna gave it another burst of speed, but Daphne managed to lean down and snatch it as she passed by. "One flag for the Bass!" Chris called with his loudspeaker. Leshawna grimaced, before she began to swerve from side to side. The brunette stopped holding the flag up and grabbed her bar with both hands, struggling to hold on. As they came to the second ramp, however, Leshawna was forced to straighten out, letting Daphne crouch down to grab the second one. "That's two flags!" Chris 'helpfully' called.

"I can see that!" Leshawna shouted back. "Just let go, girl!" she called to Daphne.

But she just laughed. "No way, José! This is too much fun!" she called, and caught the third flag.

"Just two flags to go!" Chris said, delighting in seeing Leshawna grow more frustrated.

Daphne held the flags up with one hand. "Piece of cake!" she said.

Leshawna's eyebrow twitched. "Is that so? Then how about this!" she yelled, before yanking the handles to the side. The engine whined as her move sent it through several complete turns in the mud. Meanwhile, Daphne was pulled along from the other end.

Her eyes widened. "Oh sh–Whoa! Hey! Ah!" she called, clinging on for dear life. Then, just as Leshawna finished spinning, she heard–and felt–another snap and looked down. Her stomach dropped.

The stress had caused the strap on her remaining ski to break.

The next second, the front end of the ski was caught in the mud and Daphne was catapulted into the air. "OH FUUUUU–!" she called, before landing face-first in a tree past the finish line.

Chris's previously pleased expression instantly soured. "And… with some creative driving, Leshawna manages to make Daphne wipe out before getting her last two flags," he declared reluctantly. "All Gwen has to do is get at least four of them and cross the finish line."

Lindsay frowned. "But Delphi didn't cross!" she protested.

"Yes, but this is my show," Chris countered. "Just think of it as retribution for certain aeronautical stunts this morning," he said, throwing a glare at Leshawna as she crossed the finish line.

Leshawna simply shrugged. "Still worth it," she said frankly.

Gwen looked at the course. "Just four flags? I can do that," she said.

Heather glared at her. "Not if I have anything to say about it," she said, before stomping over and getting onto her jet ski.

Chris raised his flag, and Gwen got into positions on her skis. "And… go!" he called. Heather immediately went for wide swerves as they shot forward, not giving Gwen a moment to get comfortable.

As they neared the first flag, she turned and came up the ramp on an angle before straightening out as she landed. Gwen caught the first flag, then immediately held the bar with both hands as it was nearly ripped out of her hands. "Not… yet!" she shouted with gritted teeth, holding on and staying up as she also landed.

"And Gwen takes flag one!" Chris said.

"No!" Heather yelled. Her driving became even more erratic in response, and she made sure to swerve as close as possible to any rocks scattered along the path.

As Gwen picked up her second flag, Heather swerved again and sent her on path to hit one such rock. The goth gulped… before her expression became determined. "I am getting that shower!" she called, and leaped over the rock before landing again and snatching her third flag. Then her fourth.

"And Gwen has all the flags she needs! And if Heather doesn't cross the finish line, her team is disqualified!" Chris called.

The queen bee glared back at Gwen.

Confessional Stall - Heather

"If I don't cross, my team loses. If Gwen makes it across, I still lose. So the answer is simply to make sure she doesn't cross," she said with a grin.

Heather flipped a switch to keep the jet ski on cruise control, then turned around in her seat. Gwen's expression turned wary, and then horrified as she reached into her shorts and revealed a pocket knife.

"You wouldn't!" Gwen called.

In response, Heather gave a wide grin. "Oh, I would. Buh-bye, Hot Topic!" she called, before leaning down to cut the line. As she did, Gwen became aware of a low branch they were passing. Had Heather been sitting straight, it probably would have clotheslined her. Instead, it hit the back of her top… and ripped it right off.

Heather froze, then looked down at her chest. Which was exposed.

On international television.

"AAAAAHH!" she called, before the seadoo hit a rock and sent her flying backwards off the seat.

As Heather sailed away, Gwen had a huge grin on her face. "Now that was some great instant karma," she said. The speed Heather already had her going at was enough to carry her across the finish line, which she did to the cheers of her teammates.

Chris drove up to them on his ATV. "I didn't quite catch what happened, but Heather totally botched up her driving. Which makes our winners…" He paused to sigh. "The Screaming Gophers," he dully announced.

The Gophers continued cheering, and Leshawna caught Gwen in a hug as she reached them. "Girlfriend, give me some sugar!" she said, and Gwen laughed a little before hugging her back.

With the Bass, Courtney was sending death glares in the direction Heather was last seen. Meanwhile, DJ frowned and sniffed at his arm. "I'm gonna need to break out the special soap for this," he said morosely, still able to smell the jockstrap.

Before her team left for the showers, Gwen and Bridgette met up. "So, we can cross off Liam and Justin as letter-writers," the goth said. "I suppose we could ask DJ."

Bridgette gave her a grin. "Yeah, that sounds great!" she said.

Gwen raised an eyebrow, noticing how forced her cheery expression was. Before she could ask about it, though, Leshawna passed by them. "What's up?" she asked.

"This," Gwen said, holding the letter out to her.

She took it and read it through, before smiling. "That's kind of sweet. I've gotten two other poems like this already," she stated.

Both other girls straightened in genuine surprise. "The poem is for you?!" they both said.

Leshawna smirked. "You two know anyone else at camp with a luscious apple…" she began, turning around and posing so her rear stuck out in her jeans. "Like mine?" she finished, before proudly walking off to take her shower.

As she did, Gwen looked over the surfer chick. "But… if the note was for Leshawna, then who wrote it?" she asked.

Bridgette just shrugged her shoulders, not trusting herself to lie convincingly.

At the bonfire, before night had fallen, Courtney gathered the members of her alliance. "So, I hardly think we need to discuss it, but it's best to be sure," she began. "We're all voting for Heather tonight, right?"

Harold nodded. "Not only is she the leader of her alliance, but she cost us the win in the final challenge," he said.

Bridgette raised her hand. "To be fair, we can sort of blame Daphne for that too. If she didn't wipe out, we might have gotten all five flags while Gwen didn't."

Liam grunted. "Maybe, but that also assumes Gwen wouldn't have gotten a fifth flag if she had to. Which she might have," he pointed out.

"Exactly," Courtney agreed. "And we could blame DJ for losing too, but he's not as bad as Heather. We should get rid of her while we can."

Now Harold raises an eyebrow. "And I'm guessing you two butting heads has nothing to do with it," he added.

She shot him an annoyed look. "We butt heads because she's a threat. One we should eliminate now," she said.

"I agree," Liam quickly said, before stretching. "That massage sure would have been nice."

"Yeah, it would have…" Bridgette admitted, before sighing. "Alright, I'll vote for Heather tonight."

"Same here," Harold said.

The C.I.T. smiled. "Thank you," she said. It was always so much easier when people obeyed.

While the Gophers were showering–and both Courtney and Heather were busy still fuming over their loss–Liam walked over to the steps of the main lodge. Seated there was Daphne. As he came closer, she looked up at him and frowned. "I thought I said we shouldn't speak again," she said.

He bowed his head. "You did," he conceded. "But we need to if you want whatever your plan is to work."

She snorted. "You don't even know what my plan is, but still think I need your help?" she asked rhetorically. Leaning back with her hands behind her, she said "Alright, lay it on me."

Once night had fallen, all the Bass now were in front of the bonfire, which was now lit and casting shadows over ground and walls.

"As you all know, failure to receive a marshmallow will result in being forced to walk the Dock of Shame, from which you may never, ever return," Chris reminded them for the umpteenth time. "Bridgette and Harold? You guys are safe," began.

Both of them smiled at each other before walking over.

As Chris handed marshmallows to them, he continued "Daphne…" She let out the breath she was holding and stood up.

"Courtney…" Courtney sent another look of our venom at Heather. In contrast, the queen bee looked, for once, somewhat nervous.

"Liam…" He smiled and joined the others, savoring the taste of his own marshmallow.

"Heather, DJ, you both lost challenges for your team today, which makes you both losers," Chris said. "But only one loser will remain on the show. That loser is…"

…

…

…

"Heather."

Every Bass had a look of surprise on their face. Everyone except Heather, that is, who's nervousness was replaced with triumph. "Ha! I don't even know what I was worried about," she said, getting up to claim her prize.

DJ, meanwhile, sighed sadly at the loss. Then he looked over at Courtney, Liam, Harold and Bridgette. "Can't say I really blame you guys. I'd have voted for me, too," he said.

"But we… How…?" Bridgette stuttered, still looking shocked.

But DJ waved his hand. "It's all good, guys. I had fun while it lasted," he said.

Daphne abruptly ran forward and embraced him in a hug. "I'm gonna miss you, big guy," she said into his shirt.

He smiled and hugged her back. "I'll miss you too, Daph," he said.

She chuckled and looked up at him. "Only Izzy gets to call me that," she said stubbornly. "But you're still the second-best friend I made on this show."

"Same here," he replied, getting her to give him a quizzical look. Then Bunny appeared from behind DJ's seat, jumping into his arms as he pulled away. "This little guy takes the top spot."

Daphne smiled. "As he should," she said before moving aside.

DJ received a brief hug from Bridgette as well, along with fist bumps from Harold and Liam. He and Heather locked gazes for a minute… and then she sighed and extended her hand. He shook it with a grin before continuing on, shaking hands with Courtney before reaching the Dock.

As he jumped onto the Boat of Losers with Bunny, DJ waved back his teammates. "See ya, guys!" he said, and every one of them waved back.

Since the 'why' is something yet to be revealed, I don't mind letting you guys know how this voting session turned out:

Harold and Bridgette → Heather

DJ → Courtney

Courtney, Liam, Daphne and Heather → DJ

Eliminated:

1. Beth, the Wannabe

2. Noah, the Know-It-All

3. Duncan, the Delinquent

4. Eva, the Female Bully

5. Sadie, the Sweet Girl's Friend

6. Geoff, the Party Guy

Teams are reorganized.

7. Katie, the Sweet Girl

8. Izzy, the Psycho Hose Beast

9. Ezekiel, the Home-Schooled Guy

10. Cody, the Geek

11. Tyler, the Jock

12. DJ, the Brickhouse with Heart