So... *deep breath* ...it begins.

After months of revisions and telling lots of other authors it was coming, the first chapter of my Total Drama AU is here.

I'm PurpleShadowManipulator (I go by Shadow), and I still to this day have no idea why I'm a Total Drama fan. This here is inspired by all kinds of rewrites and shuffles from different authors on the site, and the format is the same: All six seasons, mostly the same as canon in terms of episodes, same Chris and Chef, a colorful cast of OCs for each season, and a whole lot of drama. Total Drama, if you will (a clearly original joke).

I made a few edits to the dialogue where it made sense to me or had errors (ex. "That's 8 jumpers and 2 chickens," after 7 people jumped), but otherwise, this will be a lot like the TD you know and love.

I tend to explore darker themes and plots, or I like to in any case, but this story should never cross the line past a T rating. Currently, there will be some swearing (censored) and very minor suggestive themes, almost entirely from one character. Not putting out any names (*cough* Claire *cough*). Furthermore, I will have multiple LGBTQ+ characters. Hopefully that doesn't bother anyone, but if it does, I'm not forcing you to read this story.

This AU is the Wrong Dramaverse, filled with a wide array of oddballs. The first couple of chapters will be longer to give you a little more time to get used to the cast, since they aren't the tried and true canon campers. You might recognize a few of these characters from SYOC stories, or not. Either way, I own them, but nothing else to do with TD.

And now that's all out of the way, please enjoy!

Episode 1: Not So Happy Campers- Part 1

"Yo!"

Truly, he is the Host with the Most. He only needs one word and a show of his face to hype up a crowd. 'Yo' isn't even much of a real word, but it does the trick, especially when you're someone like him. This is the stuff he lives for.

"We're coming at you live from Camp Wawanakwa, somewhere in Muskoka, Ontario! I'm your host, Chris McLean, dropping season 1 of the hottest new reality show on television, right now!"

Chris shifts to the soon-to-be-infamous Dock of Shame. The host struts down the dock while he continues explaining. "Here's the deal: twenty-two campers have signed up to spend nine weeks right here, at this crummy old summer camp. They'll compete in challenges against each other, then have to face the judgement of their fellow campers. About every 3 days, one team will either win a reward, or watch one of their team members walk down the Dock of Shame, take a ride on the Loser Boat… heheh! …and leave the island, for good!"

A new view reveals the campfire location, and Chris pops back up to describe it. "Their fate will be decided here, at the dramatic campfire ceremonies, where each week, all but one camper will receive a marshmallow."

At the mention of the delicacy, Chris eats one for himself. Which is for demonstration purposes, mind you, not because he has a sweet tooth.

"In the end," he adds, "only one will be left standing, and will be rewarded with cheesy tabloid fame... and a small fortune which, let's face it, they'll probably blow in a week. To survive, they'll have to battle: black flies, grizzly bears, disgusting camp food, and… each other."

Editing presents a montage of the dangers Chris mentions, and then a montage of cameras.

"Every moment will be caught one of the hundreds of cameras situated all over the camp." He concludes, "Who will crumble under the pressure? Find out here, right now, on TOTAL... DRAMA... ISLAND!"

(The opening plays but doesn't make any sense because nobody knows who these people are. Who's the guy with the red hair? That girl has crazy twin braids. Et cetera.)

Dock of Shame

"Welcome back to Total Drama Island," says the host, despite this story lacking commercial breaks. "Alright! It's time to meet our campers. We told them they'd all be staying at this five-star resort, so… if they seem a little TO'd, that's probably why."

The first boat arrives, and off it steps an average-height Filipino. His unkempt dark gray hair is held up by two headbands, one red and one black. He wears a red-lined traditional martial artist uniform, tied proudly with a black belt. As is also often true of martial artist uniforms, he lacks shoes.

Chris greets the boy brightly, "Dwight! What's up?"

Dwight as "The True Fighter"

"I see, it's truly you, Chris McLean," says Dwight in return. "Your face is even more impressive without a screen between us."

"I know, right? Heheh. Kid knows how to compliment."

"Although I must admit, you're pretty short."

"And there goes that," says Chris with disappointment. He points Dwight to the other side of the dock as a second boat arrives. On this boat is a blonde with long twin braids, a backwards pink cap, and bright blue eyes. She wears a yellow shirt over a white one, and overalls over, well, all. She leaps off the boat and onto Chris in excitement. Lacking the same enthusiasm, Chris says, "Gail!"

Gail as "The Nature Lover"

The girl yells, "Aww heck yeah, the man! How're ya doin', Chris? Hey, wait… this it?"

"Yo dog, this is it!" says Chris, pulling away from her to point at the island. "Camp Wawanakwa!"

Gail looks confused, then returns to her excited state. "That's swift! This is ma kinda environment, ya know!"

"…That's almost disappointing. Where are all the downers?" Chris looks around, then spots just the kind of person he needs. "Oh hey, Mirella!"

Mirella steps slowly and unsurely off her boat in her new black shoes. Her red, green, and purple dress bewilders Chris and the other two contestants. Her black hair frames her face, which is concealed by a domino mask matching her attire.

Mirella as "The Masked Dancer"

When fully on the doc, she says, "How unfortunate… could the show not pay for the resort after all?"

"What do you mean?" asks a smirking Chris. "We paid for this camp. There was no resort, unless you count the high-quality crib I've got for myself."

"You are more devious than I had hoped… non mi piace."

"What now?"

Mirella sighs, spelling it out for the host. "I don't like it. I signed up for a reality show at a resort."

"Are you sure?" Chris grins once more, then takes a large stack of paper out of his pockets. It's a copy of the same contract each camper signed to enter the show, and to sell their souls to the sadist known as Chris McLean.

"Mistakes have been made, it seems," says Mirella, looking away. The masked girl walks over to the other two, whom are staring at her outfit.

"That's some high-end dress, missy," says the cowgirl look-alike.

"You really wanted the resort, huh?" adds the martial artist, looking slightly more forgiving.

Mirella looks from one to the other, saying, "I was not going to judge you two by your fashion senses. Would you prefer I did?"

Dwight and Gail shake their heads 'no,' but Chris pays no attention to them because another boat has arrived, and with his legs hanging off the front of it sits a dirt-ridden brown-haired boy. He wears an orange scarf, a gray t-shirt with a picture of fire on it, and torn up green pants. He also lacks shoes, but unlike Dwight, he has no good reason for not wearing any. He shouts, "Wow, that was crazy! Boats sure are weird. Hey lookie here, it's Chris McLean! He's so cool!"

"The Gregster!" says Chris, with his usual charm. "Welcome to the island, man!"

Greg as "The Wild Child"

"Actually, it's just Greg," says the boy, likely unaware of what a nickname is. He adds, "Boy, does this island remind me of my old home!"

"That must've been a weird life," says Dwight to the other two around him.

The magnificent host proclaims, "Another boat, and on it is… Velvet!"

The shortest contestant so far rears her head at her introduction. Velvet's short brown hair parts at an odd angle, and regardless of her overdone lavender makeup – or perhaps because of it – her skeptical, sneering face makes the others uncomfortable. She wears a simple lavender hoodie with a green circle around the neck, green pants, and yellow shoes. But it's hard enough to see her clothing when you can't mentally bypass her twisted purple smile.

Velvet as "The Scheming Rat"

"Ah, Chris McLean," she says as she walks towards him. "Do tell… when shall we go to the real location? And when shall the game be afoot?"

"Uh, someone's eager to start. Well, we're here, and not going anywhere else," says Chris.

Velvet clicks her tongue quietly. "Fine. I guess I can wait, for now."

She walks over to the other four, the smile stuck on her face. As she not-so-subtly taps her fingers together in anticipation, another boat arrives. It brings a man with long, wavy, back-length black hair and a long face. He wears a teal striped coat (with matching pants) over a black shirt, and his ribbon tie is a lime green. However, it is his physique which stands out the most: his body is thin and lanky, and his long back slouches forward, giving his body a leering effect. Even with his slouch, he stands as the tallest out of all contestants, and without his slouch, he would be much taller than most adults. He walks slowly past Chris to the other contestants, and Chris is almost afraid to call him out on it but does so anyway.

"Clyde…?"

Clyde as "The Creeper-Type"

Clyde cranes his long neck back to see the host. Some of the other campers shudder at the sight. He says, "Good morning, McLean. I can't help but notice how pitiful our surroundings are. I hope the other contestants will provide some form of entertainment for me to compensate for this. Yes… kyehihihihi…."

After the unnatural laugh fades, Chris says, "Well, that explains that. Not calling on him again, ever."

Gail approaches him without hesitation and asks, "What's up wit ya, huh, tall guy?"

Clyde looks down at her and says, "I just like people, that's all. Nothing more, nothing less."

The creeper smiles, showing his teeth, and it's a very unsettling sight. The other campers back slightly away from him as he places, and rests on, his luggage. The next camper who boards the dock has a noble vibe that seems to directly contrast Clyde and Velvet's. The African-Canadian girl has her black hair tied up in two large buns, and her body is quite muscular. Over a dark blue sweater and cargo pants, she wears a breastplate, kneepads and shoulder pads – that's right, authentic armor.

"Amber!" Chris calls to her. "Hey!"

Amber as "The Modern Knight"

The knight scoffs at him. "Oy, this place is a dump! A mess! Is that the vibe you wanted, my lord!?"

"You know," says the host with his signature smile, "your lady told me all about you… and how she'd be ready to take you off my hands at any time. You might want to keep comments like those to yourself."

Amber bows, not hiding the rage on her face. "Yes, my lord," she says, half-sarcastically. She walks by the other campers, her armor making a racket. As the least accustomed to society, Greg perks up. "Woah, is that all real metal!?"

"Of course my armor is real," she yells at him. "Have you been living under a rock?"

The Wild Child grins like a dork. "Nope, I've been living in the trees!"

Watching the conversation, Velvet whispers, "These people are utter buffoons, all of them."

"I don't know, I like the diversity," says Clyde, who is right next to her.

"Huh!?" says the surprised Scheming Rat. "I didn't say anything!"

"If you insist."

Chris looks at the oddly shaped teen on the newest boat to approach. "Oh, I'd recognize that silhouette anywhere. Ladies and gentlemen, Robert!"

Robert's silhouette is almost completely square. His hair is red and perfectly flat, and an angled beard rests on his chin. Neither his white shirt nor brown jacket have sleeves, exposing his large, muscular, boxy arms. His legs are thick, but short, making his longer, slimmer pants awkward in two ways.

Robert as "The Beefcake"

Looking at a piece of paper for reference, he asks in a dull voice, "You are… Chris? McLean?"

"The one and the only," says the one and only. "What do you think of your location?"

"It's a camp," says the rectangular boy.

"And?"

"And what?"

Chris waves his arms in frustration. "Aren't you disappointed? About not being at a five-star resort?"

"Huh?" says Robert, using one hand to scratch his head and the other to scratch his behind.

"Never mind," says Chris with a shrug. "Don't worry about it."

Robert walks slowly to the others, shaking the deck under his feet. Mirella makes a disappointed face at his passing, stating, "Not the brightest bulb in the box, as they say."

Dwight nudges her and adds, "In my world, we call them meatheads."

Chris joins in shaking his head at the cube of meat known as Robert, not noticing the ninth camper's arrival. Her long black hair is locked back into a perfectly angled bun, exposing a two-way microphone earpiece in her ear and sunglasses on her face. She wears entirely formal clothing, most of which is purple or gray. She says, in a monotone voice, "I was correct to read the full extent of the contract. I'm glad the camping supplies I packed will come in handy after all."

"Welcome to camp, Lisa," says the host, "And yes, those supplies could come in handy, if I can't find a reason to confiscate them."

Lisa as "The Statistician"

Lisa states, still without motion or emotion, "I am fully aware of this, and you will find my luggage to carry only acceptable equipment and resources."

"Sure," Chris shrugs. "Good luck."

As Lisa moves towards the others, Gail says openly, "Yeesh, straight from jock ta nerd!"

"It is quite the mood whiplash," agrees Mirella.

Amber yells, "Do not disrespect those you have only just met!"

"Then," says Dwight, "why did you verbally attack Greg?"

The Modern Knight can't find a response to that. So instead she says, "Shut your trap!"

"I'm fine!" says the Wild Child, "I didn't get hurt."

"Oh, but you will…." Velvet whispers, but loud enough for the Creeper-Type next to her to hear it. He responds, "You're very odd, Velvet."

"If I heard that properly, I agree with you," says the newest girl. "What's your name?"

"I am Clyde. It's nice to meet you, Lisa. Kyehihihihi…."

The tenth boat brings a contestant even more nerdy than the last. His bright red spiked hair does little to draw people's eyes away from his thick glasses. He wears shorts, with long socks pulled up high, and his pink and red shirt has a big, whopping 'J' in the middle of it. He puts down his manga when he sees the host.

That host announces, "Contestant number ten is Jeremy!"

Jeremy as "The Cartoon-Loving Cartoon"

Jeremy's eyes light up at the comment. "Woohoo! The Chris McLean, and he dubbed me number ten! Now I have a real backstory for how I became Decaman!"

"Chris?" says Robert, the resident idiot. "That's his name?"

Chris shrugs and shakes his head. "Ignoring that… Decaman?"

"That's my superhero persona," Jeremy eagerly explains. "He flies, turns invisible, and supercharges his punches!"

"Sounds more like Dorkaman ta me!" says Gail from across the dock.

The geeky kid frowns. "Aww… why can't anyone appreciate me…?"

A dejected Jeremy joins the rest of the group. The newest boat brings a tall white girl with brown twintails. She sports short shorts, a button-up shirt tied at the front, and a white tank top with a low cut revealing her ample… um…. Anyway, she also has two black arm warmers. The second she reaches the dock, she says, "Hey hey! What's poppin', Holmes?"

"Alright!" says Chris, "our kleptomaniac Claire is here!"

Claire as "The Klepto"

Velvet, who had been trying to keep to herself, perks up and says, "Did you just say… kleptomaniac? What if she steals our things!?"

"What if I do, huh? You know what they say; it's better to be illegal than bored!" Claire boasts proudly.

"Excuse me," says Dwight, "but… I don't think anyone says that. At all."

She shrugs. "Well, I guess it's just me, then. That's too bad."

"No, I'd rather not be wanted by the authorities," added Jeremy. "Even if they do usually end up being mooks, I'd prefer the side of the police, the side of justice."

"Well said, Lord Jeremy. If you weren't so scrawny and weak, you'd make a fine knight," says Amber in an approving(ish?) fashion.

Suddenly, Chris checks all of his pockets. "Hey, where did the list of campers go? How am I supposed to know who's showing up right now?"

Another boat arrives at the dock, but Chris is unprepared. Not that he doesn't look good when he's stressed. He almost looks better than usual, in fact.

"And next up, we have Morgan!" says the Klepto, having done what kleptomaniacs do.

"Hey!" yelled Chris. "If you don't give that back, I give you the boot! Do you want to board the Boat of Losers this early!?"

"Nah, I guess not."

"Besides," interrupted the newest camper, "I go by Mo."

Mo as "The Philosopher"

Claire returns the piece of paper to Chris, who turns to the speaker. He is a short boy whose large, blocky brown bangs covered most of his head, including his eyes. A chunk of hair still sticks out from the rest around his forehead, giving him a kind of 'unicorn horn.' His torso bears a teal puffy vest over an orange sweater vest over a white long-sleeved shirt, but his pants are just gray, which is a bit of a let-down.

"I see we've already been lied to," is what he quickly realizes.

"Sure have, Mo!" grins Chris. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Not at all," Mo returns nonchalantly. "I'm better off in a situation like this anyway. The less trust, the better."

The shaggy-haired boy joins the other campers, prompting the Beefcake to offer a question that isn't about Chris's name.

"How do you see?" says Robert, "With your hair?"

"Don't give him a reaction. He's too stupid," quips Velvet.

"No," says the Philosopher, "it's fine. I'll tell you this much: I don't need to see with my eyes anymore. After learning the things I've learned, I can see with my mind, and with more clarity than any pair of eyes."

"In addition, your hair likely does not obscure your eyes to a considerable extent to begin with," states Lisa.

Mo shrugs. "…Yeah, that works too. But I'm serious." He then proceeds to stick a finger in his nose.

Claire snickers at him. "You won't be serious for long you little s***, not without your lucky rabbit's foot!"

"A foot of a rabbit!?" shouts Gail, "How dare ya!"

Greg yells out, "Hey, that's mine! I earned that, give it back!"

Claire takes a moment to look from the Wild Child, to the rabbit's foot, and back. "Well, I tend to have a strict 'what's mine is mine and what's yours is mine' policy, so give me one reason why I should give it back."

"If you won't give it back, then smell it," says Greg.

She follows his instructions, gags, and throws it back to him immediately. Chris chuckles at the scene. They can laugh now, but the next boat brings bad tidings. The frightening goth girl on board has long white hair, red contacts, and tripley overdone eyeshadow. She wears a black jacket with black gloves, red leggings, and a matching shirt and skirt entirely in shades of gray. Her image seems to represent death, and she is happy to build on that image with her words.

"It seems the resort has been reduced to a mere campground. Makes enough sense. Destruction marks my arrival and follows my passing…."

Chris whispers to the camera and any nearby campers, "One of the nuttier nuts here. It's Karma."

Karma as "The Apocalypse Bringer"

"It would not be good for you to become close with me, fellow competitors," Karma continues with a dramatic pose. "I am the raven, the caller of dark and misfortune. You may wish to leave now and spare yourselves."

"Wait, misfortune? Wh-what kind of m-misfortune?" says Dwight, beginning to freak out. "Oh no! Don't go for the ears! NO!"

Jeremy looks awkwardly at him. "The martial artist is scared of some goth chick's words!?"

"You won't kick me out that easily, Karma," says Velvet with her sneer. "I came to win, at any cost…."

"Lady Velvet, you're… really making yourself suspicious here," reckons Amber.

Another boat arrives, again again, surprise surprise. The contestant aboard it only wakes up when he reaches the dock. He is an overweight ginger boy with freckles, donned with jeans, a pink hoodie, and a leather jacket. Whether it's his face, his sense of style, or his overly calm demeanor, many female campers - and even many of the males - can't seem to take their eyes off him.

Chris recognizes this, of course. "Here's a bit of an anomaly. Everyone, meet Hector!"

Hector as "The Unmotivated Motivator"

The boy yawns and says, "What do you mean, I'm an anomaly?"

"Well," says Chris, "you're not the skinniest person alive, yet apparently, very attractive."

"Yeah yeah, this again." Hector brushes him off. "I'm frickin' bored."

Hector moves close to the other campers, but not truly with them. He sets down his luggage, which has a pillow strapped to the top of it, and takes a seat on it. Still, a few campers crowd around him.

"That's a nice face ya got there, guy!" starts Gail.

"I hope you survive my deathly aura…." adds Karma.

"You are looking fine, my friend. F-I-N-E!" finishes Jeremy.

Hector yawns again. "Not really. I'm not even trying here."

"And modest, too," says Clyde, smirking. "The complete package."

As most of the campers took their time meeting the Unmotivated Motivator, only two notice another new camper's arrival. Robert, still not having figured out much of anything, asks, "Hey, Chris? You are Chris?"

"Have you got something to say, you two?" asks the Host with the Most, ignoring one of those two in the process.

The Modern Knight motions behind him. "Well, I do… who's that?"

"Oh, her? She just arrived. This is Whitney."

Whitney is a blonde-haired, green-eyed girl with a simple, yet simply adorable face. She wears a white dress shirt, a gold necklace, and a pink skirt. Of course, that's ignoring the bows: one large pink bow around her collar, one much larger pink bow in her hair, and even her sleeves had been tied into bows.

Whitney as "The Pure-Hearted"

Skipping towards them, she says, "Hello, Chris! And you two, and everyone else! It's a pleasure to meet you all!"

"She's here to act as our positive energy and protectable cinnamon roll," says the host.

"Oh good!" says a fellow positive thinker, "It's nice to meet you then! I'm Greg."

"We need more bounciness at this unfavorable camp," agrees the Statistician. "I am Lisa."

Whitney cheers with joy. "How wonderful, I've already met two people! It's an honor and a pleasure to meet you both!"

The girly girl happily wraps the two of them in a tight hug. She gives them a smile that could light up the sky and hops towards the others. As she does, the next boat arrives, revealing an almost stupidly emo teen. Everything he wears is black, except his long robelike coat, which is, of course, dark dark dark dark dark gray. His black hair covers one eye, and green and purple streaks run through that hair.

"And now," says Chris with his obligatory introductions, "the opposite of Whitney with his negative energy, it's Damien!"

Damien as "The Edgelord"

"It's not negative energy I bear," says Damien, "it's the sheer blackness of my soul. You couldn't possibly understand what I've been through…."

Chris partially cut him off, saying, "And look! He's already boring. Good luck not getting booted, man."

Damien stares into his hand in response. "My life is a dark room. One big dark room. It's empty and quiet and I can never get to sleep."

The emo kid walks closer to the group, and his supposed counterpart meets him halfway.

"Don't say those kinds of things, Damien!" says the Pure-Hearted. "I'm sure it's not that bad."

The Edgelord turns to Whitney, covering his one visible eye with the same hand he was staring at before. "You know nothing - nothing, I say! – of my pain. Scarred wounds don't heal, and neither do I. My tortured brain is beyond repair, and I am alone in my suffering."

"But is his pain comparable to what I'm going to put these guys through?" Chris chuckles. "Who knows!"

A new boat arrives, but it flies past the dock and into a rock. It begins to sink, and a brown-haired girl manages to escape. However, it isn't very long before shark fins begin to rise from the water, moving towards her. She quickly climbs back on the boat and performs a leap of faith to reach the dock. She does make the landing… with her body sprawled out and her face planted on the ground.

This brown-haired girl is of Hispanic origin, and her brown hair is quite long. She has a white shirt with the number '4' on it, and a brown jacket over top. Her medium-length jean shorts are held up by suspenders, for no real reason other than aesthetic. She stands up, brushing herself off and feeling for where she's been injured this time.

Chris laughs harder, wiping a tear from his eye. "Speaking of pain, that's one way to make an entrance! And it's not exactly a good one. But your audition tape was right, Sarah, you really do have awful luck!"

Sarah as "The Chew Toy"

"I know that much," says Sarah, "life hasn't been so good to me. Nice to meet you, Chris! …Wait, do not tell me this is where we're staying!"

"Then I'd better keep my mouth shut!" he grins.

Sarah immediately realizes how bad this could be. "A campground!? Are you serious!? I'm going to die here! You just pointed me to an early grave!"

"I guess it's a good thing you'll be starting out in teams, then," says the host. "You can use them for protection."

Sarah walks over to the others, trembling slightly in fear. Most of the others pay little attention to her. Instead, they focus on the next boat to arrive, because of the boy aboard it. If his blond, well-kept hair and blue eyes don't betray his social standing, his gold suit jacket and luxurious blue tie finish the job. Even minor things about him - the wallet on his left wrist, the lack of wrinkles in his shirt - give him an aura of wealth. However, his lower half doesn't match up at all, with track pants and blue tennis shoes.

"Your enemy for the next nine weeks has arrived! Everyone, give up a slow clap for Francis!" says Chris, knowing he could stir up drama right off the bat. A few campers comply with Chris's demands. After all, first impressions are everything, and when your clothes describe your wealth from the get-go, you've made yourself into a jerk.

Francis as "The Already Rich"

Francis walks onto the dock without much enthusiasm, fitting the weak welcome he received. "Come on, Chris," he complains, "you've seen my tapes. You know I'm better than that. I'm not the kind of guy who expects to win because of his money, you know."

Chris gives his signature laugh (heheh!) and says, "Keep telling yourself that, man. Whatever's gonna let you sleep at night in this place."

"No, I mean it! I'm here because I wanted to- "

"Oh, that's Iris!" interrupts Chris, pointing at the next boat. "She's more interesting than you, so make way, Richie Rich!"

Francis lets out a frustrated sigh and moves to join the group. Unfortunately for him, they move slightly aside to keep away from him. In the meantime, Chris wasn't lying (he never lies, ever) so he helps Iris onto the dock. Iris presents herself strangely, with large circular glasses and wavy blue hair, with the ends dyed a more purple shade. For her attire, she wears a sea green plaid shirt and a just-below-the-knee-length pleated lavender skirt. A large yellow raincoat hangs on her shoulders (she doesn't wear the sleeves) and it is accompanied by matching yellow boots on her feet.

Iris as "The Unbound Artiste"

"Interesting?" she says, giggling, "What a silly word to use, Chris. Surely you can think of a more creative way to describe me?"

Chris frowns. "Yeah, uh-huh. I'll think about it. Now go over there."

Instead of walking over, at first, she merely gasps. She takes a long look at the diverse group of people she's joining. She smiles, saying, "Wonderful! So much variety, so much chemistry, so much… I need a minute!" With that, she moves her glasses to wipe a tear from her eye.

"She does not seem weird to you, does she?" Mirella asks the nearby campers. Francis looks over at her, and his eyes widen. As if he were losing track of everything in the world but her and her splendor, shining brightly- nope, he's turned away from her. Pretending like he didn't notice her at all.

"Variety means nothing. No matter how different we are from each other, death will claim us the same," says Damien as Iris walks towards them.

"Don't worry, I'm gonna try to have as few deaths as possible on this show," says Chris. "Emphasis on 'try.' I don't want too many lawsuits. And here comes… Timothy!"

"I, uh… I go by Timmy," says the new boy as his boat arrives. He is somehow even shorter than Velvet, meaning less than 5 feet tall. He is of Asian-Canadian descent, and his black hair seems to be tied into a knot on the right side of his head. He wears a blue shirt with a yellow pattern over a white dress shirt, none of which clashes with his gray pants.

Timmy as "The Heavily Medicated"

"Oh, right," says Chris, helping him off the boat. He leans in to the boy and says, "but don't you sometimes go by Theo?"

Timmy freezes almost instantly. "Wh-wh-why would I d-do that!?" he responds while reaching into his pocket, "Theo's n-not even an i-inflection of Timothy! Y-you're crazy, Chris!" He takes a bottle out of his pocket and swallows a pill from inside.

Chris starts looking confused. "O-kay, then. Oh, and before I forgot, you do have enough of your medicine for nine full weeks, right?"

Timmy nods quickly. "All stocked up!" He slowly begins to walk to the other campers, eyeing them with a little bit of interest and a lot of fear. When he's with the rest of the crowd, he gulps.

Claire nudges the person next to her, who happens to be Hector, and asks, "Do you think I should be that cruel?"

Hector snorts, and makes it clear that he was about to get to sleep. He sighs, but it sounds more like a yawn, and says, "I don't know what you're going on about. Who are you?"

The next person to try to answer properly is Karma. "If you were to rob the child of his medicine," she says, "it may result in his death, followed by the death of Chris's wallet, followed by the death of the show-"

"Okay," says the Klepto, "I get it, bad idea."

"-Followed by the death of humanity itself!" finishes the girl.

"Reality TV isn't a necessity of life," says Mo. "Are your priorities that skewed?"

"HAHAHA! Here's the Bombard!" yells a new voice.

Chris laughs along. "Sorry for not noticing you! Sheryl, everyone!"

She jumps from her boat and onto the dock, resulting in crunching noises as the dock feels the impact. Sheryl is a tall, muscular, dark-skinned girl with red contacts and red-dyed spikes in her hair. She wears an orange jacket over a shirt with a red X on it, neither of which have sleeves. Her brown khaki pants have red fire prints rising up from the bottom. She cracks her knuckles and proudly announces, "The winner is here!"

Sheryl as "The Center of Attention"

"Might as well keep your bags packed, kids," she says smugly, "'cause you'll all be home soon enough!" At the end of her sentence, she flings her luggage across the dock, and you get three guesses as to who it was aiming for.

"Here we go agai-" Sarah begins before the large duffel bag knocks her off her feet and back into the water.

"Oh no! We've got to help her!" says Whitney, worried, as a nearby Greg says, "I'm on it!" The Wild Child dives into the water and shortly returns to the surface with the girl on his back. He dog-paddles back to the dock, and Dwight helps bring her to shore.

"Thanks for the help, you two," Sarah says, to which Dwight says, "No problem," and Greg says, "What he said."

"Hey! Look at me!" says the newest camper as she storms towards the other end of the dock. "What am I, garbage? Why's nobody talking to me!?"

Clyde turns to look at her. "Kyehihihihi… it was only a minor distraction. Welcome to camp, Sheryl."

"Yeah, well, you ought to make sure I stay entertained!" she yells at him. "Waiting nine weeks for the money ain't any fun on its own!"

The last boat arrives - finally - and Chris jumps aboard, trading places with the African-Canadian boy on board. He also stands very tall, and his hair, excluding his goatee, comes in long dreadlocks under his bowler cap. Over his green vest, he wears a dark gray overcoat almost reaching his knees, and black pants. Everything about him seems stern, a vibe too serious for much of the group to properly respond to. Even he says nothing until Chris tells him to.

"Hey Quinn! Before you get to the others, why not introduce yourself?"

Quinn as "The Question"

The man only says, "I'm Quinn. As said by the host."

"First," Chris said, "we need a promo shot. Everyone at the end of the dock." The boat moves in front of the dock, where all of the campers are. Chris holds up a camera. As the 21 of them pose for the picture, Quinn joins them, with his back to the camera, and the sheer weight of all the campers combined makes the planks feel unsteady….

Chris smiles. He's planned it perfectly, as always. "Okay, one, two - oops, okay, forgot the lens cap. Hold that pose, one, two - wait, card's full. Hang on."

"You'd think he'd be a bit more prepared for this," Quinn snarked.

"Okay!" Chris was finally ready. "Everybody say 'Wawanakwa!'"

"Wawanak-waaah!"

At that very moment, the dock collapses. All the campers hit the water this time, not just Sarah. Chris snaps as many shots as he can of their suffering. When he's satisfied, he says, "Okay guys, dry off and meet at the campfire pit in 10!"

Campfire Pit

The full cast meets up again at the place that half of them will come to hate by the end of the day, and the other half will learn to hate in due time. Some of them take seats, and the rest stand. Chris happily begins his full explanation of camp life. "This… is Camp Wawanakwa, your home for the next nine weeks. The campers sitting around you will be your cabin-mates, your competition, and maybe even your friends, ya dig? The camper who manages to stay on Total Drama Island the longest, without getting voted off, will win one hundred thousand dollars!"

"First question!" yells Sheryl, "Can I throw people off the island?"

Chris laughs. "Sure, but it won't count as being voted off, so they can come back whenever they want."

Timmy is the next to raise his hand. "Are we sleeping indoors? Or will the bears eat us all in our sleep!?"

"He said we are each others' cabin-mates, correct? That implies some semblance of a building to use for shelter is involved," explained Lisa.

"She's right on the money," says Chris, "and before anyone asks, girls get one side of each cabin, and dudes get the other."

Without making an effort, Hector complains, "Man, can I get a cabin all to myself because I'm the best looking?"

"Okay, other than me you are," Chris answers, "but that's not really how it works here. And, it's Chris."

Robert mumbles to himself, "It is?"

"Can I get you to make sure I have a top bunk?" asks Sarah. "I don't want to get crushed and die in the night."

Damien sighs. "As I said, death is inevitable. You really do have no knowledge of how the world works…."

"I understand," says Karma, "the darkness will consume us, and the eternal sleep will befall not only this camp, but the universe itself, and…."

While Karma goes on and on about doom, Gail says, "Yeesh, them two are crazy weird, ain't they?"

Dwight says, "Death shouldn't be fun to talk about. They are strange."

"Oh, come on, everyone!" says Whitney, giving the Nature Worker and the True Fighter a crushing hug. "This'll be great! We can all be the best of friends! Right, Quinn?"

Quinn is separated from the rest of the group, leaning against a tree in the shade. He looks at her when she asks the question, but he doesn't respond. He climbs up to a high branch in the tree to watch the rest of the group.

"Here's the deal," continues the host, "we're gonna split you into two teams. If I call your name out, go stand over there…

"Lisa." The Statistician adjusts her earpiece.

"Sheryl." The Center of Attention pounds her fist into her open palm.

"Mo." The Philosopher stops sticking out his tongue.

"Jeremy." The Cartoon-Loving Cartoon looks up from his manga.

"Timmy." The Heavily Medicated shudders in shock.

"Dwight." The True Fighter clasps his hands together and bows.

"Velvet." The Scheming Rat gives off her signature smirk.

"Mirella." The Masked Dancer crosses her arms.

"Iris." The Unbound Artiste puts down her sketchpad.

"Clyde." The Creeper-Type laughs his disturbing little laugh.

"And… Gail." The Nature Lover stretches her arms out and runs to the other ten campers as Chris finishes by saying, "From this moment on, you are officially known as… the Screaming Gophers!"

"Heck yes!" says Gail. "I love gophers!"

Chris continues. "The rest of you, over here…

"Amber." The Modern Knight stops adjusting her shoulder pads.

"Hector." The Unmotivated Motivator releases a yawn.

"Quinn." The Question leaps off the tree he had climbed.

"Francis." The Already Rich finally swats away the fly near his face.

"Sarah." The fly from Francis goes into the Chew Toy's ear, and she tries to get it out.

"Whitney." The Pure-Hearted sniffs a flower and picks it carefully.

"Greg." The Wild Child is itching behind his ear with his foot like a dog.

"Karma." The Apocalypse Bringer stops talking about death with Damien.

"Damien." The Edgelord covers his uncovered eye with his hand again.

"Robert." The Beefcake has no notable reaction.

"And… Claire. Move, move, move, move!" The Klepto pockets the shiny rock she found on the ground and speeds towards the rest of the group.

"You guys will be officially known as," Chris pauses for dramatic tension, "the Killer Bass!"

Francis smiles. "Alright, we're killer, that's killer. I'll take it, Chris."

Chris continues continuing. He has a lot to explain, but that's fine, because who doesn't love listening to Chris? "Alright campers, you and your team will be on camera in all public areas during this competition."

(Confessional: Chris)

"You will also be able to share your innermost thoughts on tape with video diaries, anytime you want. Let the audience at home know what you're really thinking," he winks, "or, just get something off your chest."

(Confessional: Sarah)

"So far, everything hasn't been too awful. But it won't stay that way, it really won't. Mom, my Last Will and Testament is in my sock drawer. Have it ready for when things get bad, okay?"

(Confessional: Robert)

"Wait… what is this thing again?"

(Confessional: Greg)

He walks in, looks around, gets a gross look on his face, and runs out again without speaking.

(Confessional: Loon)

The loon applies its makeup, quite expertly I might add, before it spots the camera.

(Confessional: Karma)

"Hey everyone, check this out," she says in an abnormally normal voice, "I have something very important to say…." Immediately she returns to her normal freaky goth-ish self. "Prepare yourselves, the bells have tolled! Shelter your weak, your young and your old!"

"Alright," says Chris, having mostly finished, "any questions?" Without waiting too long for a response, he says, "Cool. Let's find your cabins!"

Due to the power of TV editing, he finds them instantly. "Gophers, you're in the east cabin; Bass, you're in the west."

Killer Bass Cabin: Girls Side

"Bunk beds! Oh, I've always wanted a bunk bed," cheers Whitney. The three others entering behind her do not look happy, but she cheers on anyway. "And it's even more fun to bunk in with my new friends!"

"Friends!?" says Karma, shocked. "What makes you think we can be friends? You're a pathetic girly girl, and I am the final incarnation of the malevolent Raven Queen herself. My birth fulfills many prophecies-"

"Hey, uh, since there are five of us and six total bunks, can I get one for myself?" asks Sarah, interrupting the evil conspiracy. "That way, I can switch between top bunk related injuries and bottom bunk ones, and nobody else can get hurt in the process."

Claire kneels down and starts opening up her bag. 'Her' referring to Sarah. "Sure, I don't care as long as I can borrow your stuff."

Sarah objects, "You can't. I never said you could!"

"And I wasn't asking, honey," says the Klepto as she pulls out a flashlight. "Lucky you, bringing a flashlight to camp without even knowing we'd be- oh. The battery's leaking."

"Because of course it is," sighs the Chew Toy.

Whitney's smile refuses to falter. "Anyway, thank you, Sarah, for thinking of everyone's safety when you chose your bunk! I'm glad you're so nice." She looks around. "Does anyone know where Amber is?"

"The metal bearer stands outside with her false sword in preparation for the hordes which may kill us in our sleep."

"Thanks, Karma!" says Whitney, rapidly shaking her hand. The Pure-Hearted runs out the door, and sure enough, Amber is there waiting with her helmet visor and foil for increased protection. The bow-wearing girl tilts her head and asks, "What's up with you, Ambs?"

The Modern Knight does not falter as she says, "I will not respond to such nicknames. Call me Lady Amber, or just Amber if you have to, but not a stupid nickname. Anyway, I'm making sure no males or enemy team members intrude on us."

Whitney blinks a lot, but eventually just decides on saying, "Cool! I think you'll be bunking with Karma though, she doesn't seem to like me."

Amber sighs. "Just make sure I have the bottom bunk."

"Will do!"

Killer Bass Cabin: Boys Side

Quinn enters the cabin first, and he isn't nearly as ecstatic as Whitney to see their living situation. "Great, this is stupid. We all have to bunk up? Really?"

Robert is confused. As if that's anything new. "Why is that bad?"

Quinn lets out a long, exasperated sigh. "Let's see," he says, "you and Hector are too heavy to sit anywhere other than a bottom bunk, so if you don't want feet in your face every morning, you'd better suck it up."

Hector shrugs drowsily and answers, "I'm not proud of my weight, but I don't care either. That's fine with me."

Quinn shushes him angrily. "Second," he continues, "we've got the rich prick, who will want the top bunk no matter what."

"I mean I'd like a top bunk, but I'm not going to put myself above the rest of you, literally or metaphorically," says Francis compliantly. "If I'm taking a bottom bunk, it is what it is."

"Don't give me your excuses!" yells Quinn.

"But that wasn't an excuse, I don't think," says Greg. "Besides, I'm gonna sleep outside. All I need is a place to keep my stuff."

"Who are you?" asks Robert, falling behind. "All of you?"

"I am the one who drowns in misery from dusk till dawn, who bathes in the hatred of the worst side of the world, the one who feels only pain-"

"No offense, Damien," Francis cuts in, "but could you cut it out!?"

"...Well I want a top bunk," he adds.

"Alright," says Hector, "Francis, you want my top bunk?"

The Unmotivated Motivator and the Already Rich get to unpacking while Quinn and Damien fight over who gets to sleep alone, and who's stuck with Robert. The Beefcake watches them blankly.

"My pain is worse than anything you've ever-"

"Shut up."

"But the darkness has consumed-"

"No."

"The shadows of fear-"

"Damn all you idiots!" yells Quinn, having reached his breaking point. "I'm putting my stuff in this corner and sleeping on the roof!" And thus, he promptly storms out of the cabin. He notices Greg scurrying around on the ground, but he leaves nonetheless.

"That guy's angry," observes Robert.

Francis also leaves the cabin. "Excuse me, Chris?" questions the blond boy, "I brought a few electric things, like a toothbrush and razor and such. Where can I charge them?"

The host grins, saying, "There are some outlets in the communal bathrooms, just across the way."

Of course, the bathrooms are filthy, even from an outside view. Being the rich kid he was born as, he shudders once at the mention of communal bathrooms, and a second time at the sight. "C-communal bathrooms, h-huh?" he says, "F-fantastic."

Screaming Gopher Cabin: Boys Side

Jeremy meets the cabins with mixed enthusiasm. "Bunk beds, yes! I call top! ...Wait, this all looks pretty flammable, why's there a wood burner? ...Ooh, but this rug is actually pretty nice! ...Huh, why's there only one set of drawers?"

Dwight closes his eyes, puts his palms together and says, "To prosper, one must suffer. To inflict pain, one must learn it. Therefore… I want a bunk under Clyde!"

"I'd prefer if you didn't think of being near me as suffering," responds the Creeper-Type as he ducks under the door frame. He inspects the beds and says, "I may be too tall to sleep in any of them."

Mo rubs his chin and says, "Let's test that. I don't think you should get on the bed itself, because I don't want it to break, so we'll make it easy. Lie down next to the bed and we'll get someone to check the difference in length. Timmy?"

Timmy shakes at the mention of his name. "M-me? For a math thing? It's not because I'm Chinese, right?"

"Of course not," says Mo, "it's because you're scrawny like me. If you're not physically strong, you ought to be mentally. So come on, Clyde, lie down."

(Confessional: Mo)

"I don't have much in the way of strength or smarts, but what I do have are strats. So at the very least, I need to start showing them before I turn into an early boot."

Clyde does what he's told with a curious smirk. Timmy kneels next to him and approximates the difference in length between the lanky boy and the mattress. "With my best mathematical guess," says Timmy, "Clyde is longer than the bed by around 10.7 centimeters."

Dwight nods. "Very well, my proposal didn't work. In that case -" he looks around at the others - "Jeremy? Top bunk?"

"You bet I am getting that top bunk!" he says. "Because I'll rise to any challenge!"

Mo shakes his head at him, and says, "But there's a better way to go about things. I'm taking a bottom bunk, because any good audience knows to root for the underdog."

Jeremy gasps. "It's true, man, true! ...But I'm still taking top."

Slowly and insecurely, Timmy approaches Mo. "C-can I take your top bunk?" he asks, to which the Philosopher shrugs and shakes his hand on it.

"I guess that leaves me to be resourceful, kyehihihihi…." Clyde takes both mattresses from his full bunk bed and lies them next to each other on the floor. "Wonderful," he decrees.

Screaming Gopher Cabin: Girls Side

"Chris McLean," Velvet begins before entering her cabin, "will there be any other supervisors or chaperones?"

"You're all 16 years old," reasons Chris, "as old as a Counselor in Training at a regular summer camp. So, other than myself and one other staff member in particular, you'll be unsupervised. You've got half an hour to unpack and meet me back in the main lodge starting… now."

"Excellent," says Velvet, rubbing her hands together.

Gail peeks out from inside the cabin. "So, I'm purty sure we covered this 'bout a hundred times over, but you're a heckin' weirdo."

The Nature Lover turns away as the Scheming Rat enters the cabin, watching the other four try to work themselves out.

"It's mine! My top bunk next to the window. I claim it!" yells Sheryl. When nobody competes with her for it, she continues, "Damn right! Score one for the Bombastic!"

After analyzing all of the bunks, Lisa says, "It doesn't matter to me which of these I am required to sleep in. Each bed appears equally stable and equally sub-par."

"Well I will not have a bottom bunk," says Mirella. "They bring back painful memories. Sheryl can keep her top bunk, but I must take another or else I will not perform well in the competition."

The second she hears this, Velvet smirks.

(Confessional: Velvet)

"See, this is a reality show, and reality shows work best with drama. Chris McLean called it 'Total Drama,' after all." She taps her fingers together maliciously. "What am I prepared to do? Steal, cheat, sabotage, trick, and betray my way to the top. What are they prepared to do? I don't know, but 'lose' better be on their lists, because it's not on mine!"

Gail claps her hands saying, "Swift, makes the rest of our jobs easier. Which one of ya wants ta take the last top bunk?"

Iris looks up from her sketchpad with mild frustration on her face. "Could one of you please stand still?" she asks, "I want to draw all of the gorgeous people I'll be spending my days with."

"I guess I do not mind," says Mirella, showcasing her fancy attire. She strikes a basic pose for the Unbound Artiste, who gets to work immediately. The Masked Dancer, seeing no reason against it, asks, "Iris, would you like to take the bed beneath mine?"

"Yeah, sure," says Iris absentmindedly as the sketching process sucks her in, so she's not completely sure of whatever she just agreed to.

(Confessional: Iris)

"Let the world know, right here and now, that I proudly admit to being a bohemian! I'm artistic in many ways, and I'll express it no matter how many times everyone tells me I need to conform more, or set rules for myself, or go to school for a change, or do chores at home…" Iris trails off, but comes back to her senses. "Anyway, I'm not in it for the win. That would be nice, but the experience should be inspiring enough for me."

As Mirella poses for the artist, and Gail, Lisa, Sheryl, and Velvet finalize sleeping arrangements, Iris finally looks away from her sketchpad to see the cockroach crawling up her leg. She reacts the same way most people would.

"GAAAH!"

The sketching girl stands up and shakes the insect from her leg before jumping onto her bed. She yelps again a couple of times, getting the others' attention. Mirella and Velvet let out their own screams, and Lisa's eyes go wide before she falls backward onto her bunk under Velvet's. Contrarily, Gail stares at it with curiosity, and Sheryl goes on the attack, trying to crush the cockroach under her foot. The commotion does not go unnoticed, attracting Jeremy, Amber, and Greg to the scene.

"Aww man," says the Cartoon-Loving Cartoon, "if only I could shrink down to its size and mind-control it."

Amber steps into the room, saying, "I'll take care of it." However, no matter how many times she stabs at the roach with her foil, it continues to dodge.

After watching for a few minutes, Greg lunges deftly at the creature and catches it. Holding it between his hands, he runs out of the cabin. The girls inside silently thank him, and after a few seconds of calming down, Jeremy and Amber leave as well.

Meanwhile, Greg takes the cockroach to a nearby rock, and he bashes the insect onto the rock several times. Francis, who happens to be returning from the communal bathrooms, is the only one who notices the Wild Child as he then eats said cockroach. Obviously, the rich kid gags at the sight. Too bad they're about to have lunch, because he won't be hungry for a while.

Main Lodge

"LISTEN UP!" yells the muscular black man in the style of a military sergeant, "I serve it three times a day, and you will EAT it, three times a day! Grab your tray, get your food, and sit your butts down NOW!"

Chef Hatchet knows just as well as Chris how to make an impression, and this impression is exactly what he wanted. Only a few out of the 22 campers in the room were not scared after that introduction. They line up to take their food and complain about it.

"F'I may ask," begins Gail, "is there a vegetarian option for this stuff, guy? B'cause I don't want meat in ma diet, ya know?"

While taking their trays, Mo adds in, "Also, are there any dessert options? Not that I need it, but I like a whole lotta sugar."

"You'll get a whole lotta SHUT THE HECK UP!" yells Chef, pushing back Mo's hair, but not enough to see the Philosopher's eyes. Understanding the point, the boy follows Gail to the Screaming Gophers' table.

"He should've said f***," whispers Claire to the person next to her, who happened to be Francis. The boy's eyes widen, and not just because she further provoked Chef.

"What was that!?" says the cook, "Come closer rude girl, I didn't hear you!"

Claire chuckles semi-harmlessly. "Don't worry about it. I know you've got an audience and all, but I think you should've said what comes naturally."

"Do I seem unnatural to you?" says Chef, giving her a powerful glare.

The Klepto gulps and says, "In a good way, of course!" before escaping the situation.

Francis picks up his food, but the 'burger' on it falls off and onto the ground. He shudders and turns to Chef, saying, "Can I get a replac-" he cuts himself short seeing Chef's unfiltered annoyance - "nevermind, I'm good." He ever so slowly leans down to pick up his 'food.'

At that point, Chef says, "Prolly doesn't taste that different anyway," which convinces the boy to leave it behind entirely.

Later in line, Dwight says, "So, my teachers told me I should be more at one with my surroundings. Do you believe your food will help with that?"

Chef gives him a blank stare, likely not listening at all. A fly buzzes near his head, which irritates him almost as much as the campers questioning his food, so he grabs the bug and crushes it with an iron fist.

Seeing Chef's display, Dwight answers his own question. "Well, actions speak louder than words, and your actions are quite powerful. Thank you, sir." He bows and walks away.

Sarah watches him oddly, then turns to the cook again. "Look, so, I don't want to question your food," she says, "but having had food poisoning 86 times before, I don't really want it again. So… can you at the very least stop the meat from squirming?" She points to the mystery meat, which moves mysteriously.

In response, Chef raises a wooden tenderizer.

The Chew Toy locks her eyes shut, whimpering, "Shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have asked, shouldn't have asked…" as the hammer comes down, splattering a meaty substance everywhere. She wipes her face, says "Thanks" insincerely, and runs to the table before any more harm can befall her.

As all of the campers who have the courage to eat Chef's food do so, and the others look on in fear, confusion, or disgust, Chris returns. "Welcome to the main lodge!" says the host.

"Can we get a better menu, or a takeout order or something?" asks Hector, before narrowly dodging a flying cleaver. The projectile gets stuck in the wooden wall behind them, and Chef growls, holding his next utensil to throw. To appease him, Iris says in a drawn out voice, "Whaaat? Nooo, we'll be fine! This food is great!"

Chef grumbles something about being unappreciated, and Chris turns around to leave. "Your first challenge begins… in one hour!"

Timmy swallows two pills with a glass of water. He continues shaking as he turns to his teammates and asks, "You don't think it'll be something crazy, right? Like fighting the lions, or something?"

(Confessional: Timmy)

"So, I guess I just imagined the lions. But how was I supposed to know that!? That's why I take my pills, okay? They keep me safe, and they keep me sane. Because I'm not crazy." He starts looking around the confessional. "I'm not crazy! Really! Stop thinking it!" He turns to the camera. "Stop looking at me like that!"

"It'll be no big deal!" yells Sheryl. "Well, especially not for me, because I'm the Bomberific, but it can't be that bad."

"CURSES!" shouts Karma, who heard from the other table. "You nearly jinxed us all! If you had said any more, there might have been meteorites raining down on your puny smashable heads right now!"

Sheryl pushes the Apocalypse Bringer away with enough force to knock her into her food. "It won't be hard, really," she assures her team.

One Thousand Foot High Cliff

The campers stand next to each other in their swimsuits, looking over the troubled waters far, far below.

Damien sighs. "Time to die."

Next Time, on Total Drama Island!

"Your first task is to jump off this one thousand foot high cliff, into the lake!"

"Are you going to force me to ruin the makeup, or are you going to jump!?"

"Ugh, what a pain… I'm the heavy one, why do I have to jump?"

"I have become fully certain that someone will die at this very challenge."

The two sharks growl and bare their teeth, ready for a meal.

"WaaaaAAHAHAAAAH!" he yells as he falls, actually crying.

A clanging sound rings out, and the other campers recoil, cringing at the pain.

"I didn't think my team could be this pathetic… but they just keep finding new ways to disappoint me."

Votes: N/A

Gophers: Clyde, Dwight, Gail, Iris, Jeremy, Lisa, Mirella, Mo, Sheryl, Timmy, Velvet

Bass: Amber, Claire, Damien, Francis, Greg, Hector, Karma, Robert, Sarah, Quinn, Whitney

Eliminated: Nobody... yet. MWAHAHA

But wait, there's more! It's a two-part special!