The following fanfiction is based on an idea from another one of my fanfics, entitled Wanted. I advise that you read that before reading this, or this may not make sense to you.

Though this is a TDI/Superjail cross-over, there will be a cameo cross-over in this prologue: NCIS. Yep. Nothing is sacred anymore.

Total Drama © Fresh TV

Superjail! © Augenblick Studios

NCIS © Belisarius Productions/Paramount Television

I own nothing.

-X-

McGee was tired – overworked. Some low-life criminal had hijacked a car, running over its owner – an ex-marine – in the process, and drove it through the wall of a night club. No one had identified the man, who had run off before the NCIS team arrived on the scene, but they found his fingerprints on the car. And guess who had to look for his whereabouts…

The Junior Field Agent had been sent to Abby's lab to help her with her work. Why she would need any of his help, he had no idea, but he didn't complain.

"Timmy!"

He was greeted by a hug. No, more like a death grip. A caffeine-induced death grip of death.

McGee was about to turn blue from lack of oxygen before Abby let go. "Okay, the main computer's still matching fingerprint records. I need you to trace his cell phone records and triangulate his coordinates… Uh… McGee? Are you listening to me?"

"Abby, what the heck is that?"

The uncharacteristically happy Goth turned to where the Junior Field Agent was pointing. "Oh, that tombstone-looking thing? I found it near my house one day. I think it's a Halloween decoration or something."

McGee wasn't so sure. It gave him a bad vibe. But he shook it off and got to work.

Eventually, Abby was able to match the fingerprints to some petty criminal named "Jackknife." McGee also found his last known whereabouts: a local bar.

"Alright, let's give this information to Gibbs," McGee said as he left the lab.

Abby smirked at another job well done. She turned to where her new Halloween ornament stood.

"…Hey! Where'd my tombstone-thing go?"

-X-

The NCIS team moved in. Jackknife was somewhere in that bar, and they were taking him down.

Suddenly, to their surprise, a large tombstone-shaped machine tore its way out of the sidewalk and into the bar.

"What the heck was that?!" DiNozzo shouted.

"I knew there was something wrong with that tombstone-thing!" McGee responded, recognizing it as Abby's "Halloween decoration."

"Well, whatever that thing is, it looked angrier than my ex-wives!" Gibbs quipped. "Proceed with caution!" He made his way to the door, opened it, saw the carnage, closed it, and turned to his team. "…You know what? Let's let the FBI take care of this one…"

With that, NCIS retreated for the very first time…

-X-

"Sir! Sir! It appears Jailbot has gone on a manhunt for Jackknife again!"

"Relax, Jared," the purple-clad warden said as he read his mail. "Why do you have to be so uptight all the time?"

"Relax? RELAX?! How can I relax?! Jackknife keeps escaping, the Twins keep plotting, the budget is unstable, and YOU don't even CARE!! ARE YOU EVEN LISTENING TO ME?!"

No, the Warden wasn't listening. He was too busy reading one of his letters. It seemed to interest him greatly.

"…What is it, Sir?" the accountant asked, slightly more calm than before. Slightly.

The Warden looked up with an evil gap-tooth grin. "Jared, how would you like to go on vacation?"

"…Uh… Well, you know I'd love to, but this place needs me! If no one's here to balance the budget, we're more than screwed!"

"Don't worry. Alice and Jailbot will keep things in order while we're gone," the Warden explained.

"W-WE?! But Sir! Without you, Superjail will crumble! It will cease to exist!"

The sadistic Willy-Wonka-esque warden shook his head. "Jared, don't you have faith in Alice and Jailbot?"

"…Uh… I-I guess… but what about the Twins?"

"Oh, would you just forget about the frickin' twins for a moment, Jared?" the Warden said in a rare moment of anger. "You and I are going on this vacation, whether you like it or not!"

Jared finally gave in. "Alright, fine! But where are we going?"

The Warden grinned and handed him the letter. The accountant scanned through it.

Attention Campers,

It's been ten years since Chef and I have seen your sorry, pathetic faces. To celebrate ten years of freedom, we welcome you back to where it all began: Camp Wawanakwa. Yep! We're hosting a reunion party. I can't wait to see what pathetic life-styles and career choices you have chosen for yourselves.

RSVP ASAP

Yours truly,

Chris.

PS: Bring a friend if you want, but we won't be paying for his/her expenses.

Jared cried out in panic. "I have to pay for my own expenses?!" He turned to the Warden. "Sir, do I have to go?"

The Warden chuckled. "Don't worry, I'll pay for it. Oh, and Jared?"

"Y-Yes, Sir?"

The purple-clad man straightened his bow-tie. "When we get there, call me Cody. No need for formalities where we're going…"