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teen-cups-au · 8 months

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Teen Cups - Plot Notes Part 1

Doudy (mod): 7 parts are ready so far. For now, they'll be posted weekly!

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Cuphead walks further away with his bag [I would have corrected the sketch in the last page WIP, since I drew him letting it with the others. You’ll know why in a bit.], where he and Chalice were at night in the flashback a few pages ago. Mugman and Puphead join him to check on him.

Mugman: Cuphead ?

Cuphead: I wanna be alone.

Puphead pokes him.

Cuphead: Ugh… What ?!

Puphead: *signing* We’re all happy to get to spend time with you again.

Mugman: They could have done better, true. But you should still enjoy the moment !

Cuphead: Leave me alone...

Puphead follows Mugman as he walks away, mumbling :

Mugman: At least, he’s taking fresh air…

Cuphead hears him and rolls his eyes while getting a cigarette.

Cuphead sits down at the edge of the water and stares at the sea. The night falls, and he’s now writing in a notebook, his bag open, as he got it from it. The moon is surrounded by a few clouds. He then gets up to join the others again. They’re all around a campfire.

Sammy: Aha ! Look who decided to come back~

Cuphead: Sammy, you say one more word and I leave.

Sammy: Geesh, can you stop being a jerk ?!

Baroness von Bonbon: Cut it, you two ! Want a marshmallow, Cuphead ?

Cuphead: No thanks.

He walks to his tent.

Baroness von Bonbon: Okay ! But stay here at least !

Cuphead: Am I allowed to put my stuff in my tent, or what ?!

Baroness von Bonbon: Yes. As well as having manners !

Cala Maria: Is it me, or everyone is in a bad mood since he arrived ?

Mugman looks down next to her, tightening his legs while sitting. He starts coughing. The coughing worsens, making Cuphead hurry out of his tent. Samuel, who’s sitting on Mugman’s other side, puts a worried hand on his shoulder.

Samuel: Mug? Are you okay?

Cuphead reappears and crouches beside him.

Cuphead: Mug ?

Mugman gets up and walks a bit further to isolate himself, as the fit is getting worse, Cala commenting in the background :

Cala Maria: Man, his cough is so nasty…

Baroness von Bonbon: Poor Mug…

Cuphead gets up again to follow him.

Sammy: I thought he wasn’t sick anymore ?

Cuphead: Do you have your inhaler ?

Mugman nods and gets it from his pocket. Cuphead takes it and shakes it for him.

Cuphead: I knew it was a bad idea to come !

Mugman frowns.

Mugman: Shush…

He inhales the medicine, Baroness von Bonbon yelling from out of the panel :

Baroness von Bonbon: Is he okay ?!

Cuphead: UGH, GIVE US SOME SPACE, BONNIE !!!

Mugman retains his breath with a done face.

Baroness von Bonbon: Dammit, what’s wrong with you ?! We barely see you anymore, and when we do, it’s to be yelled at non stop ! You’re ruining our night !

Cala Maria: No wonder. He always goes to the casino. He can’t be surrounded by respectable people.

Mugman is catching up his breath, wheezing.

Cuphead: Mug, let’s just go home ! You’re not well anyway.

Mugman: No ! I’ll be *cough* fine… *wheeze* I won’t let it prevent me from having fun ! *wheeze*

Cuphead: I’m clearly not welcome anyway.

Mugman: Of course you are ! *wheeze* Just try to… Just enjoy, okay ? Puphead brought- *cough* *cough* -cards to play. *wheeze* Maybe you can teach us poker or something ?

Cuphead: You won’t go back home, are you ?

Mugman: No.

Cuphead sighs.

Cuphead: Fine.

They come back.

Baroness von Bonbon: You chill now ?!

Cuphead stays silent, looking at her scornfully. He then asks Puphead :

Cuphead: Hey Pup, Mugman told me you got a card game ?

Puphead nods.

Cuphead: You guys wanna gamble ?

Sammy: To be honest, I’m curious.

Sam: I don’t want to bet money. I don’t even have that much on me right now.

Cuphead: No problem, Sam. We can make it interesting another way.

Sam: Like ?

Cuphead: Loser sniffs cocaine.

Sam: I’m out.

Sammy: ...Why not.

Sam’s eyes widen.

Sam: WHAT ?!

Sammy: For my experience ! It’s just a try !

Sam: Sammy, you know what it implies, right ?

Sammy: Yeah, yeah, dependence, blah blah blah… But it’ll be just once !

Cuphead: Hehe, yeah sure~

Sammy: You don’t think I’m able ?

Cuphead: Yanno it’s hard drugs, right ?

Sammy: And what does that mean ?

Cuphead: The kind that are hard to stop.

Sam: Cuphead, don’t do anything that extreme ! Please...

Cuphead: Fine. Marijuana it’ll be.

Sam: How is it not extreme ?!

Cuphead: It’s soft drugs.

Sam: Are you serio-

Sammy: Shut up now, Sam ! I’m tired of you bossing me around ! If I want to give it a try, I’ll just do it !

Sam frowns and grumbles.

Samuel: But I… I don’t want you to die !

Cuphead laughs.

Cuphead: He won’t, don’t worry Samuel. It’ll be more like-

Time skip to Sammy puking at a tree a bit further. Cuphead teases him, while smoking too.

Cuphead: That makes you a double loser, dude !

Mugman is sitting beside Baroness von Bonbon, a hand on his nose.

Baroness von Bonbon: YOU’re the loser ! You don’t even care about your brother who can’t breathe because of you !

Cuphead: He’s far from me enough !

Mugman: No. You know the smoke always comes to me, whatever you do.

Cuphead: Ugh, fine. I’ll extinguish it.

He rubs it on the floor.

Cuphead: There, happy ?

Mugman: No. I’m SO ashamed of you !

Baroness von Bonbon : To be honest, I don’t want you to hang out with us anymore.

Cuphead frowns as she says that and gets up, an empty glass bottle in his hand.

Cuphead: Fine with me !

He throws it violently on the floor.

Cuphead: FUCK Y’ALL !

He lifts his middle finger to them, as he goes to his tent.

[Alternate idea: Try to make him lift the 2 middle fingers, as he has 4 fingers, to see if it works visually, and make him say :

Cuphead: Uuh, which finger is it again... Ok nvm, imagine there's only one - FUCK Y’ALL !]

Cala Maria: Geesh ! How are you dealing with this everyday, Mug ?

Mugman: It’s not that bad, usually. Sometimes with Grandpa. But with me, I feel like he retains himself.

#cuphead #teen cups au #teen cups #comic #plot notes #doudy

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total-drama-takes-takes-2 · 1 year

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tta episode 1

Somewhere in Toronto, Canada, TV show host Chris McLean steps out of a first-class trailer onto an empty film lot. The sun is shining, the pigeons are nesting, the camera crew is already tired of listening to him complain about the wind ruining his hair.

It's a beautiful morning, especially for Chris- after the hit revival of Total Drama Island made it to the Donnie's, studio execs renewed Total Takes for two brand new seasons, raking in the cash and notoriety from the new cast of teens on old stomping grounds.

Now, they're back- fourteen competitors with nothing to lose but their dignity, stuck for another six weeks of hell. Chris beams as the director gives him his cue.

“Last season on Total Takes Island: twenty-two teens battled it out over eight weeks for a grand prize of one million dollars, fighting off wildlife, food poisoning, and each other! Michael and McLovin made it to the final two in an ultimate battle of the exes, but only one walked out victorious. Fourteen of those campers are coming back, right here to this brand-spanking-new film lot for another, all-exclusive chance to win the big million, on Total! Takes! Action!”

---

A dilapidated bus rolls into camp, stopping with a lurch and a screech. The doors squeak open and a very tired-looking O steps out, yawning. He’s followed by a finely dressed, pink-haired magical girl-esque gentleman.

“Didn’t sleep well?” Fren asks. O shakes his head.

“The bumps, man. Who knew the road to Toronto was so jumpy,”

A blue-haired girl dressed in a parka follows, also looking exhausted. She rubs her eyes. “Yeah, that wasn’t the road,” she says before carrying herself and her bags out of the bus.

Three boys follow, arms over each other's shoulders. They bounce with every step, causing the bus to tremble while they laugh without a care in the world. Michela stands beside O and glares at the three- Sha-Mod, McLovin, and Joner- as they hover in the doorway.

Scary, a ginger in a lab coat- shoves the boys and they land on the pavement in unison with a thud. She rolls her eyes and turns to drag a few large, heavy bags out.

Fren nudges O. “Whaddya suppose those’re?”

“What?” O asks, looking at Michela. She shrugs.

“Scruffy, help, please!” Scary shouts.

Scary gasps as the other end of the bag is lifted with ease and carried out. A head of neon green hair appears as the duffel drops to the asphalt. They brush off their hands and smile. “Hey, everyone. Nice trip, huh?”

O and Michela groan.

“Out of my way, Godless heathens!” Frollo hisses, holding out his Bible like a shield and backing away from the group. “If not for the work of that devil incarnate McLean, I would be back in my fellowship!”

“Let me guess,” Scary rolls their eyes. “Movies are-”

“A work of the devil!”

“Well, I’m stoked for this,” Joner smiles, brushing the dirt off his shorts. “Movie-watching is like, a job for me. That’s how serious I’m gonna take this season.”

“I hope there’s a car-racing challenge!” McLovin beams. “I love the [REDACTED FOR COPYRIGHT] franchise, it’s sweet!”

Sha-Mod nods along, carrying their bags to a neat spot by the dilapidated gate of the film lot, which has yet to be opened.

“I hope there’s a romantic challenge!” Kelly chirps, dragging Austin out of a bus as he tries to take a sheet face mask off. “I just love movies about smart, sassy blondes having their dreams come true.”

Bonnie shoves a stumbling Austin out of the doorway and steps off the bus, carrying a bag slung around their shoulder. “Shocker. Let me guess, the ones where nothing of substance actually happens but everyone lives happily ever after anyway?”

“Bonbon,” Caesar follows them, holding a pair of suitcases with his initials gilded on the front. “Remember what we talked about? Being nice?”

“I am nice,” Bonnie grumbles, stepping off the bus.

Everyone’s attention is diverted as a loud, painful screeching noise comes from the opening rusted gates of the film lot. The campers cover their ears, some dropping their bags (or friends) to do so.

Finally, the noise subsides and Chris exits, wearing a red beret, an ascot, and sunglasses. He holds up his signature megaphone and shouts into it, forcing everyone to cover their ears again. “Welcome back, campers! Hope you all had a nice break!”

“Three days hardly counts as a break,” Fren says. Chris ignores him.

“Nonetheless, I hope you’re all ready for a wicked new season- fourteen campers, thirteen episodes, a world of pain! You know the drill. If you’ll all direct your attention behind moi,” he says, stepping to the side to show a lot tour vehicle, Chef in the driver’s seat. “Hope aboard the Torture Express!”

The campers grumble and begin boarding with their luggage. Bonnie takes a seat next to Caesar and looks around. “Are we missing someone? I’m only counting thirteen,”

“Thoughtful of you, but I didn’t see anyone else on the bus,” Caesar says, turning around to take one last look at the decaying metal hull. The exhaust pipe coughs out a plume of sad, black smoke.

Chris sits beside Chef and the vehic;e starts up, driving into the lot. A small voice from outside the gate pulls the passengers in the back to turn. Peter runs behind the vehicle carrying his luggage and panting.

“Um,” Bonnie yells to the front. “Man overboard!”

“Slow down!” Michela shouts. Chris and Chef grin at each other and speed up.

Eventually, the cart comes to a halt in front of a row of different studio sets. Chris clears his throat and stands to deliver his next bit just as Peter catches up, wheezing. Bonnie and Caesar help him into the back.

“Welcome to the set of Total Takes Action! An abandoned film lot that’ll be your new home for the next six weeks!” he gestures. A few campers ooh and ah at the massive studios. The cart starts up again and drives through a few different outdoor set pieces- though, all of them look out of sorts.

Kelly surveys a western town set littered with props from a space movie- alien costumes with cowboy hats, spaceships in the saloon, a plywood moon embedded in the roof of the water tower. “This place could use a little touch up,” they say to Austin. “I’ve been watching a lot of organizational videos, I’d know just what to do!”

“Right groovy you would!” Austin pats their shoulder.

“With a grand prize of a million dollars, the stakes are high- for some of you, at least,” Chris chuckles, grinning at last season’s winner behind him. “Like last season, you’ll be split into two teams, in which you will compete together during challenges. One team will win, and the other will send someone home in the Lame-o-Sine!”

Chris gestures to a sputtering, practically cobbled-together limo sitting on the side of the road by a large golden stage.

“And this is our award ceremony center- instead of tasty treats, you’ll be receiving gilded Chris statues- except for one unlucky B-list actor, who will walk the carpet of shame,” he grins. “Since we have to stay on theme, we’ve replaced our outhouse confessional with our brand new make-up confessional!”

---

BONNIE: "This is somehow worse than the toilet,"

---

SHA-MOD: “I got real lucky getting chosen to come here with my two best friends in the whole world. Joner was a little hesitant about adding a new guy to the group, but after Michela left there was an opening and I had to take it! The interview and blood test he gave me were a little weird, but anything to be one of the guys!”

---

MICHELA: “Okay, yeah, this is super corny, and I miss Max like crazy, but… while I’m here, I might as well win, right?”

---

Frollo stares into the camera for a few seconds and then sighs dramatically.

---

“And here’s our craft services tent!” Chef shouts, pointing to a cream-colored and patchy tent off to the side. A family of rats scurries out. O and Fren look at each other nervously. “You’ll be staying in some state-of-the-art trailers, too, but we’ll get to those later! Let’s team up!”

The cart stops and Chris steps out, the campers following. “O, Fren, Michael, Bonnie, Caesar, Frollo, and Peter, you six are the Foley Fujoshis! Everyone else- Kelly, Austin, Sha-Mod, Joner, McLovin, Scary, and Scruffy- you’re the Animation Anons.”

The respective teams sort themselves. A series of thick, dark red clouds roll over the lot, causing the campers to look up.

“Now, as you might’ve guessed, this season is based on movie genres- and oh boy, did we choose some good ones,” Chris chuckles. “For your first challenge, we’ll be working with one of my personal favorite genres- the apocalypse flick.”

“Th-the what?!” O yelps.

“You and your teams will be dodging a series of classic apocalypse scenarios in order to get to your trailers- the first player to make it there wins for their team, and the losers will be sending someone home. Ready?”

“W-wait!” McLovin starts to protest.

“Set?”

“Where are the trailers?!” Scary shouts.

“Action!”

The clouds rumble and a fleet of tennis-ball sized hail starts pouring over the lot. The campers scream and run in a variety of directions, covering their heads. Chris chuckles from under the shade of the cart.

---

“Where are we going!” O shouts, his arms pelted by hail as he runs alongside Fren and Michela.

“Well-” she yells back, using a garbage can lid to shield her body. “On the island, camp was northwest, right?”

“Where the bloody hell are we, then?!” Fren yelps as a slightly smaller ping-pong sized ice ball smacks the back of his neck. Michela shrugs.

Frollo runs past, not even breaking a sweat. He uses his seemingly indestructible Bible as a shield, completely unbothered by the chaos. The three stare.

---

Scary cartwheels through the storm, avoiding the hail like an action movie star dodging bullets. Scruffy trails behind her, shouting.

“You think this is Chris’ weather machine again?!”

“Undoubtedly!” she says, almost completely unbothered. “Has your Geiger counter gotten anything so far?”

“Nope!” Scruffy shakes their head, pulling the device out from their pants pocket. “All normal- uh-oh.”

Scary stops for a second, landing on their feet and jogging backwards. The hail suddenly stops and the red clouds fade away, leaving the scene sunny, calm, and serene once again. Scruffy’s Geiger counter, however, tells a different story.

“Time for wave 2!” Chris’ voice shouts over the speakers.

A fleet of rounded, metallic flying objects soar overhead. Scary squints. “Are those-”

A green beam of light shoots down and disintegrates a garbage bin on the lot, leaving a pile of ashes where it once sat in the blink of an eye.

“Alien invasion!” McLovin shrieks from afar.

The flying saucers continue blasting and disintegrating objects at random. Joner, McLovin, and Sha-Mod jog by, all connected at the wrists. Scruffy and Scary raise their eyebrows, watching as the three run by them just to get blasted by a beam of green light and disappear.

---

Joner, McLovin, and Sha-Mod all sit in the confessional.

JONER: “After I became pals with these two, we made these,”

They hold up their wrists, which are connected by a chain of friendship bracelets.

MCLOVIN: “We call them the bromate bond of eternity cuffs,”

SHA-MOD: "Name patent-pending,"

---

Joner, McLovin, and Sha-Mod's molecules quickly reform on a silver platform in the craft services tent. Chef walks over, handing each a paper bag.

“What’re these for?” McLovin asks.

Chef rolls his eyes. “Experimental teleportation has some… side effects,”

The three look at each other, faces turning green.

---

O and Fren run alongside each other in a beach-themed portion of the set, both shouting in terror as the green lasers disintegrate umbrella after lounge chair after beach ball.

Fren spots a city set up ahead and points at a building. “Run for that door, mate!”

The two speed up, Fren dashing inside as a blast narrowly misses O, throwing him off course and forcing him to run in the opposite direction. The former steps through the doorway and looks around before realizing the front of the building was plywood, and he’s still outside. He sighs.

O runs through the city and into the wild west, where Kelly and Austin are hiding beneath a chrome spaceship. The two watch the former pass, screaming in terror, and look to each other. Kelly holds a finger to their lips just as a beam vanishes the prop hiding them.

Austin screams in pure terror as the UFO above whirs, gearing up to blast them again.

“I got this, babe!” Kelly shouts, running to another sci-fi piece and tearing off a reflective piece of metal. They hold it over the two as the beam of light blasts them- it bounces right off the mirror.

“Right on!” Austin shouts. Kelly smiles triumphantly.

The beam then bounces off the side of the UFO and blasts them anyway, sending them to the craft services tent.

---

“That’s five Anons down!” Chris’ voice blares over the speakers. “Odds are not looking good, guys!”

Bonnie smiles, nudging Caesar. “We got this,”

“Time for wave 3!”

The sky suddenly goes dark. The two blink and turn to each other as the streetlights in the city district light up green, and a heavy fog rolls in. “What the hell is this?”

Bonnie raises an eyebrow. “If I had to guess, I’d say it’s-”

Peter’s voice shrieks from afar. “ZOMBIES!”

“Alright!” Bonnie laughs, grabbing Caesar’s hand. “This’ll be a piece of cake. Let’s go find some weapons!”

“There’s my Bonbon!”

The two dash off into the fog as Peter’s screams fade out.

---

Scary and Scruffy walk alongside each other in the mist, both holding flimsy pieces of wood torn from the city set. They’re somewhere in a dark forest now (though the trees are clearly styrofoam and plastic).

Fren’s screams sound in the distance and the two make nervous eye contact.

“Geiger counter?” Scary whispers. Scruffy reads- “Nope, nothing. Chris must’ve thrown us off with the aliens on purpose,”

“Stupid Non-Disclosure Agreement,” she sighs, kicking a plastic rock aside. “I’d go public with what I was told, but now I’m not even sure if that was the truth, either.”

“Hey, we’ll figure it out,” Scruffy says, putting away their Geiger counter. “In the meantime, let’s just try to stay in the game.”

“You’re right,” Scary sighs. “I just can’t- Scruffy?”

She turns, noticing her walking partner missing. A rustling from the plastic bushes grabs her attention and she turns just in time to see a zombie pop out, forcing a scream. They kick the robot in the face and sparks fly, taking its head clean off.

“What the-” Scary stops, inspecting the wire carnage. “Robots? Dammit!”

He turns and runs into the woods.

---

O creeps along a beaten-down back lot between studios, biting his fingernails and looking around him every other second. The fog makes it impossible to see even a few feet ahead, so when he inevitably bumps into a fence between two huge buildings and realizes he’s trapped, he panics.

O tries to steady himself with some therapy tactics, breathing heavily. “Deep breaths! One, two, three, four-”

A groaning from just ahead forces him to turn back towards the ally, his back against the fence. A horde of zombies trudges up, moaning and dragging their feet. He screams in terror, backing against the chain link as they get closer.

“Duck!”

“WHERE?!”

He whips his head around before realizing what the voice meant and dropping to the ground. Michela swings a lead pipe blindly, knocking out two zombies. The remaining undead turns to her and edges forward, but she kicks it back and crushes the metal beast with the pipe.

She pants, covered in a dark, viscous liquid.

“Is that blood?” O whimpers.

“Not unless robots bleed,” she says, offering a hand. “Come on, I think we might be the only ones left,”

---

“Alright, let’s do this!” Bonnie shouts, stepping out of the make-up confessional with a set of handmade num-chuks, face smeared with camo makeup and eyes wild. Caesar follows, carrying a tastefully constructed spiked baseball bat. He looks nervous.

“Come at me!” they yell, running out onto the city set street and swinging their num-chuks around as the fog recedes and the sky turns blue again. “Where are you? I’ve seen enough movies to know how to take you suckers down!”

“Um, Bonbon,” Caesar taps their shoulder, and then gestures to the empty set. “There’s no one here.”

“What! But there were like… five out here a minute ago!”

The two hear a crackling sound and smell the rancid scent of burning rubber. Caesar points to a plume of smoke rising up from around the corner, which they follow to see Frollo standing over a pile of burning animatronics. He mumbles something in Latin, his Bible underarm.

“Wh-what?” Bonnie shouts. “But-”

“No creature of the devil is a match for our fearsome Lord,” Frollo says plainly, walking past them.

The intercom crackles to life. “Everyone ready for wave 4?”

Bonnie huffs. “Oh, whatever! We're prepared now- How hard could it be?”

A distant screeching sound makes Caesar and Bonnie go pale and look at each other. Before they can even ask each other “did you hear that?” a massive flock of birds descends on the two.

---

“Birds?!” O shouts, swinging around a plank of wood to knock away six or seven more rabid crows. “What kind of apocalypse is this?!”

“Hey, we’re in movie land, man. Anything we can imagine can be real!” Chris chuckles.

Michela and O stand back-to-back, swinging their weapons to fend off the flock attacking them. “They can’t be serious!” she shouts.

Bonnie and Caesar run past them, screaming as they’re pursued by an even larger flock. Michela stares as the birds surround the two, lifting them up and carrying them in the opposite direction.

“Oh, we’re so screwed,”

---

The craft services tent is abuzz with conversation and laughter as Chef serves lunch to the fallen campers. Bonnie pulls a feather out of their hair and groans as they receive a mandatory antibiotic for bird flu.

Michela and O are thrown into the ten by a duo of interns in hazmat suits, dazed and covered in claw scratches and peck marks.

Nurse Chef puts a bandaid over Bonnie’s arm. They step off the corner cot and walk to join Caesar on the other side of the room. “You’re next,” they mumble as they pass by Michela and O.

---

Scary peers out of the garbage bin they’d been hiding inside of as the birds retreat. They sigh and step out, looking around for any sign of life aside from themselves.

She walks into the city set, turning her head in every direction for anything- other players, birds, new threats… but nothing comes up. He walks into the old western set, looking from side to side before seeing Frollo sitting under the shaded porch of the saloon, wiping feathers off of his Bible.

“How?!” Scary shouts, holding their arms out for emphasis. Frollo shrugs.

“Any inhuman feat is achievable through the power of-”

“The Lord, we know!” She massages her temples. “I’m just- are we the last ones left?”

“Scary and Frollo are the only players remaining- whoever reaches their trailer first, or whoever survives the longest- wins for their team!” Chris’ voice blares. “Everyone ready for wave 5?”

Scary and Frollo- the latter unbothered- look at each other.

The sky turns a deep crimson red as another set of clouds roll in, these a much more intense shade. The sound of thunder booms, shaking the set.

A drip lands on Scary’s shoulder. “Rain?” they ask, turning to Frollo. He rolls his eyes.

Chris’ voice crackles over the intercom. “Oh, yes. But not just any rain,”

The rain picks up, pouring over the set and drenching everything in a coat of cherry red.

“My clothes!” Scary yells, lamenting over their now-red lab coat. “Is this blood?!”

“And that’s not all!”

Frollo, still shaded from the downpour, looks around curiously. The distant sound of a plane overhead pulls both of their attention up as the cargo hold of the aircraft opens, raining down a shower of frogs, lice, flies, and locusts over the set.

“It can’t be…” Frollo murmurs.

“That’s right!” Chris yells. “This is the Biblical apocalypse!”

“I am so over this crap!” Scary yells, starting off.

Frollo stands and begins running, not far behind her, looking panicked for the first time so far. The two bound off the western set and dash through the city, re-entering the spooky forest. A sudden wash of darkness consumes them, leaving them blindly stumbling as the insects and blood turn to hail.

As the light returns, the two find themselves running outside the sets in the final stretch towards the trailers.

“Let's see, blood water, frogs, locusts... oops, almost forgot my personal favorite- pestilence!”

Chef emerges in a hazmat suit, carrying a large hose. A noxious green gas flies out of the nozzle just ahead of the campers.

“Good Lord in Heaven!” Frollo yells, holding his Bible in front of him.

Scary suddenly grins. “Your God can’t save you now! Leave this one to science!” They pull a medical mask from their lab coat, hold their breath and duck and roll under the cloud of disease.

Frollo coughs as he runs through the noxious fumes before immediately going stiff and collapsing. He twitches on the ground as Scary reaches the trailers.

“And The Anons win the first challenge!” Chris’ voice booms. The crowd in the craft services tent cheers as they watch Chef walk over and scrape Frollo off the ground with a shovel, carrying him away. “Looks like an elimination ceremony won’t be necessary, either.”

“What was that?” Scary asks, taking off their mask.

“Oh, just a Bubonic Plague strain, nothing serious. He’ll be fine!”

The campers in the mess hall stare at Chris. He sighs and rolls his eyes. “Fine, we’ll rope off the area for a few days. Now get!”

The contestants grumble and shuffle out of the tent.

---

Kelly opens the screen door to the girl's and such trailer, carrying their bag over their shoulder. They've downsized for this season, deeming much of their beauty products unnecessary (though, of course, they kept a livable amount).

"Hello!"

Scary sits on the furthest bunk in the corner of the room, biting their lip and clicking their ballpoint pen rhythmically as they stare at the blank notepad in their lap.

Kelly blinks. "Are you-"

"Don't bother, they've been ignoring us for hours," a voice from behind says. Kelly turns to see Michela and Bonnie in the doorway behind them, both having just come back from the craft services tent.

"Oh! Well, hello to you!" Kelly says cheerily. "I'm so grateful that we get to spend the season together, just us girls."

"And such," Bonnie grumbles, walking past Kelly into the trailer. They grab their bathroom bag and head back out without another word.

"Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning," Kelly murmurs, setting their things down on a vacant bunk.

"They're still a little touchy about last season's elimination," Michela says. "Not that I blame them."

"Well, remind me to never bring it up!" Kelly nods, eyes-wide. Scary mumbles to themselves across the room.

---

McLovin unpacks his bag, folding his pajamas neatly over his pillow. "Doesn't it feel a little unfair to all of you that the girls-"

"And goths," Caesar holds up a finger.

"Right, and such, get that big trailer to themselves while we're all cramped in here?"

"Not really," Sha-Mod says from the bunk above McLovin's. "I mean, there's only four of them, and nine of us, so of course we're gonna feel a little cramped."

"Nah, I get it, they could've sectioned off a part of their trailer for some of us," Scruffy says, shoulder-to-shoulder with O. "I'd like my own bed, for one."

"Rude," O scoffs, turning over.

"I don't quite mind sleeping on the floor, baby," Austin says, taking a seat on the carpet. "I get along with the insects swimmingly."

"Nah, it's fine," Scruffy sighs. "With the ratio, one of us will probably be gone by tomorrow."

McLovin sits up on his bunk, scratching his head absent-mindedly. "Hey, you know all about this show, right?"

Scruffy nods.

"What's tomorrow gonna be?"

They suck in their breath through their teeth. "Yeah, about that... see, I know all about TDA, but... these challenges are new. There was no Biblical apocalypse in the original season. So... we're completely on our own now."

The boys look at each other nervously.

#tta #total takes action

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