Total Drama Outrage

Chapter One: Welcome to Wawanakwa

Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing related to the Total Drama Series, not one thing.

"Ah, Camp Wawanakwa," Chris Mclean's voice could be heard as the camera zoomed above the island, showing off the scenery, "The sights, the sounds, the wildlife and the LOSERS!" The aerial view suddenly cut away to reveal Chris standing on the Dock of Shame, his arms outstretched. "That's right, yet another bunch of freakish muta_ ah, I mean campers, will be gracing this summer camp that was totally not left abandoned after some horrible crime took place. All but one of them will end up as losers in a death-defying, spine-chilling, nail-biting contest for ONE MILLION DOLLARS! And even if they win, they'll still be losers because they aren't me. Take a seat and throw away your chill pills because this is, Total Drama Outrage!"

Dear Mum and Dad, I'm doing my time

I know that trying to be free was my only crime

You asked me what I future I could see, psychically

And there's only one thing the answer could possibly be

I want to be outrageous

I want to live a life on the run, first to the moon and then the sun

Because that's the only way I'll ever be able to have fun

I can do anything, only logic in my way

The impossible isn't so far away

All Because I want to be OUTRAGEOUS

I wanna be, I wanna be, I wanna be Outrageous

"And now it's time to welcome our campers, arriving on superbly maintained boats. Our first lucky camper is the Prince of Paranoia, the Duke of Delusions and the Lord of Lunacy. He gave me about a dozen false names but reliable sources tell me his name is Everett!"

A boat that could have quite easily been mistaken for a derelict hulk lurched up the dock and struck it, causing various bits of encrusted filth and grime to tumble off the hull and fall into the water. Bubbles churned violently around the point of impact with the water, as if something big was thrashing about down there. No one appeared to be on the deck, nor did anyone emerge from the wheelhouse. After several long seconds of silence Chris slapped his forehead in annoyance.

"We lost one already? The budget so does not cover search and rescue. Yo! Anyone alive in there?" The door of the wheelhouse finally creaked open and a boy in a bright yellow shirt with the words Take That Psychics! printed on it cautiously sidled out. His eyes were concealed by mirrored sunglasses and a blue cap with the brim pulled low shadowed the rest of his face. Tangled curls of dark brown hair were escaping from underneath the cap, leading to a rather bizarre appearance.

"Mclean!" hissed the boy, presumably the mysterious Everett, as he quickly dropped down onto the dock, "where'd you get this boat? I found alien life below deck."

"Chill dude," Chris laughed, "It's just mould or something, the things haven't been cleaned since I bought them off those pirates at a bargain price. Welcome to Camp Wawanakwa, now could you move down the dock before the next contestant arrives? Preferably far, far away from me, so I don't catch crazy."

"Sure, means I'll be closer to land if the Flying Dutchman shows up," agreed Everett as he practically bolted to the far end of the dock. Everyone knows Davey Jones can't set foot on land, well he can but Everett reckoned his next visit was still years from now. "No way am I getting dragged into Davey Jones' Locker today." Unfortunately the possibility that someone would end up in the locker was looking quite high after another of Chris Mclean's 'superbly' maintained boats arrived.

The second boat wasn't covered in filth like Everett's had been, no, it just happened to be riding startlingly low in the water. There appeared to be a gaping hole below the waterline and the boat was rapidly sinking lower and lower as it neared the dock.

"That'll have been the psychotic man-eating sharks," chuckled Chris, "reinforced hulls are way too expensive for my budget. Our next camper, if she makes it to the dock is_"

"How can a shark have a psychiatric illness?" interrupted Everett, shouting from the other end of the dock.

"Probably the result of some heinous animal cruelty," Chris waved his hands dismissively, "you know, leaving them with extreme aggression and burning hatred for mankind." While Chris had been distracted, the boat tipped forward dangerously and its occupant, a girl dressed entirely in black, was forced to leap to the remaining distance to the dock before it sunk. "That's gonna be a marine hazard! Awesome!"

"Are you completely demented?" asked the newly arrived girl, ripping her headphones out of her ears. "I could have drowned."

"Of course, and near-drowning's are great for the ratings, not to mention the fact I just got a set for a shipwreck challenge. Anyway, from just plain weird to wired for sound, it's our second camper, Maria! A fan of music and a student of robotics, welcome to the island!"

"Yeah, thanks for the welcome Chris," she drawled, rolling her grey eyes, "I'll just get out of the blast radius before the next boat explodes or something." Maria strode down the dock without sparing Chris another glance and went to stand beside Everett. Well she at least she stood beside him for all of about two seconds before he shuffled backwards, apparently uncomfortable. She shot the delusional teen a strange look before smirking at him, "nice shirt, sunshine." Everett frowned and looked down at his yellow shirt before glancing at the black one Maria was wearing.

"My name is Everett, and nice shirt, storm cloud," he shot back.

"Nice cap, shame it doesn't cover more of your face."

"Oh yeah," Everett paused as he tried to find something else to comment on, "nice ponytail, shame it doesn't uh…" he trailed off, obviously having no idea where he was going with that. "At least I'm not an android!" Thankfully, Maria was spared trying to figure out what Everett was talking about by the arrival of the third boat, which miraculous didn't appear to be falling apart or layered with a coating of filth. Sure it was covered in crude graffiti but that was nothing compared to the last two.

"See, third time's the charm," bragged Chris, apparently thinking this proved the fleet of boats was superbly maintained. "Arriving in style, our third camper believes the zombie apocalypse is almost upon us and spends most of his time planning for the collapse of human society, welcome Isaac!" The boy looked like he'd come fresh out of boot camp, wearing full camouflage fatigues, a military jacket and combat boots with his blonde hair cropped short and hard look in his blue eyes. Unfortunately the serious look of his appearance was sort of ruined by the lettering on the back of his jacket; I survived the Zombie Apocalypse and all I got was this lousy jacket.

"The boat is secure Mclean; I made sure there were no zeds hitching a ride to Wawanakwa with me. Now I've just got to match sure you haven't let the infection onto the island," Isaac suddenly grabbed Chris's arm and stared at it intently, apparently checking for bite marks.

"Whoa dude!" Chris wrenched his arm free, "no one here has zombie virus. They've got plenty of other problems, but they aren't walking dead… yet!"

"Well you named the season Outrage so I figured it had something to do with the Rage Virus," explained Isaac, the suspicious look still in his eyes.

"Whatever, just join your fellow campers over there and try not to murder anyone. A death this early would kill the ratings."

"Ha! But apparently near death is just great for them!" scoffed Maria, still annoyed with the whole sinking boat thing.

"My boat had alien life on it, fresh from Area 51." said Everett, looking quite serious. In an instant Isaac was in front him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt.

"You been bitten?" he snarled, "delirium, bloodshot eyes, the signs are there."

"Everett's wearing sunglasses," Maria interrupted drily; "I'll give you the delirium point though."

"And just who are you?" demanded Isaac, letting going of Everett and rounding on her, "dressed awfully darkly aren't you? Some sort of government agent? Going to quarantine the island when the outbreak occurs?"

"She's an android code named Maria," explained Everett in a helpful tone, "artificial intelligence and everything." Maria rolled her eyes again, muttering something insulting under her breath before addressing Everett in an exasperated tone.

"You still haven't said why I'm an android."

"Well your voice is kind of flat and emotionless and you have this kind of dead look in your eyes," reasoned Isaac when several moments passed without Everett showing any indication that he was planning to reply in the near future. "So he has a fair point."

"Last time I side with you," Maria pointedly glared at Isaac, "can we please have someone with a bit of sanity arrive next?"

"I don't know about her sanity, but our next camper loves science!" announced Chris as a fourth boat approached the dock. This one didn't have any graffiti on it; instead huge patches of the hull were warped and corroded as if they'd been doused in acid. "Ok, it was not like that when I last saw it. Sandra, what did I tell you about the acid!?"

"Don't use it on the cameras?" guessed a girl with short blonde hair who was unsurprisingly wearing a white lab coat as she disembarked from the boat. "The boat was covered in graffiti so I cleaned it off with some acid, no biggie." She suddenly realised the safety glasses she was wearing were slightly askew and quickly straightened them, smiling at Chris the whole time.

"Don't use it on the cameras or any of my property, everything else is fair game. Join the others Sandra; they're a friendly bunch… not!" Chris laughed as if he'd told a hilarious joke but Sandra didn't look overly impressed.

"I can easily defeat antisocial teenage behaviour with the power of science. Remember, nothing is impossible!"

"Suuuuuure you can, just do it somewhere else, you're hogging my camera time." Chris rudely shoved her down the dock and resumed his posing for the cameras.

"So she's some kind of brainiac," observed Isaac as Sandra approached them, struggling to right herself after Chris' shove. "A zombie survival group always needs a brilliant mind, you want to join up?" he asked her when she reached him. "I'm Isaac, the premier zombie survivalist on Wawanakwa."

"Puhlease, don't you realise how impractical a zombie apocalypse is? You wouldn't even to need to fight them; dogs, insects and carrion birds would be all over them. That's if they could even move after their muscles rotted away."

"You'll see, one day they'll come and none of you will be ready!" raged Isaac, "I can't save any of you," his voice was filled with disgust as if each of them had personally failed him. Meanwhile, Maria nudged Everett and whispered to him.

"So what's she?"

"A genetic experiment," he whispered back, "she was grown in a test tube."

"Genetic experiments!" Sandra suddenly bounded up to them, "I love them, I can't wait to study some of the seriously mutated animals on this island. Who are you two?" she added at the end, like expressing your interest in genetic experiments was the perfect way to greet someone.

"I'm Maria, nice to meet you," Sandra wasn't the beacon of sanity Maria had been hoping for but a love for science was less obtrusive than paranoid delusions and zombie survivalist talk.

"She's an android by the way, she forgets to tell people," added Everett, not even bothering to introduce himself first.

"And you're completely freaking delusional Everett," Maria shot back, "I'm not an android!"

"Ooooh he's delusional?" asked Sandra excitedly, "your brain must look really warped from the effects of those unbalanced chemicals, I should study it sometime. Either that or capture a mutant, that'd be cool too."

"I'm sure your fellow campers won't mind lending their bodies to science," cracked Chris, "oh boy I am on fire today. Speaking of fire, our fifth contestant is consumed by burning rage and has a love for destruction! Say hello to Matthew!" There was an awkward silence as no boat appeared to be arriving and Chris gestured out to the empty sea. "Or don't, he might be dead, ha!"

"Uh Chris, I think the boat really did sink this time," suggested Maria, "far out to sea, not right by the dock like mine did."

"You'd be right Maria; I deliberately sunk his boat so he'd have to swim the rest of the way. Should make him pretty angry don't you think?" At that moment, a gripping hand appeared at the end of the dock, followed by another as the boy managed to pull his head into view. His face was entirely covered by a red hood and his eyes seemed to blaze out of the darkness. With an enraged snarl he managed to heave himself up onto the dock, revealing his outfit to be a sopping wet red hoodie as opposed to some sort of cultist robes.

"You're dead Mclean!" he spat, pulling himself upright, "nobody makes me swim." A cloud of vapour was rising from Matthew's drenched clothes, giving him the appearance of steaming in rage.

"Evidently I do. Tough luck bro."

"Tough luck!? You are dead meat, chopped liver, diced ham, sliced salami!"

"Nuh uh, not unless you want to miss out on ONE MILLION DOLLARS!" The mention of the prize money was enough to curb Matthew's oncoming murderous onslaught, though judging by his clenched fists and gritted teeth, only barely at that.

"Fine Mclean," he shoved past the host and stalked down the dock, "don't think I'll forget this though." Death threats over with, Matthew directed his furious gaze onto his fellow contestants. "What are you looking at? Never seen a berserker before?"

"Nope," said Sandra brightly, "it's said that berserkers would totally lose control and retain no memory of the battle. You clearly didn't go berserk, angry maybe, but not berserk."

"I HATE Logic and Reason!" roared Matthew with sudden irrational rage as he waved his hands around dramatically. Everett stumbled backwards as if he'd been physically struck, Maria just about jumped out of her skin, Isaac let out a string of curses and Sandra clapped her hands over her ears. A long silence followed his outburst as the four other campers stared at him reproachfully.

"You've got some problems man," muttered Isaac, "but you'd make a great distraction if zeds started swarming, want to join my survival group?"

"Sure!" Matthew's rage was suddenly replaced with enthusiasm, "can I randomly betray the other members by throwing them into a horde of zombies while I make my escape?"

"Uh, it's sort of your job to get thrown to the zombies, but if you want to nominate another member, that's fine too."

"Oh yeah, joining his group sounds like a great idea," interrupted Maria, "I'd totally sign up if I were you."

"Nobody tells me what to do!" snapped Matthew, completely missing her sarcasm. He folded his arms stubbornly and turned his back on her. Further arguing or recruiting for zombie survival groups was interrupted as Everett suddenly ducked, covering his eyes. The approach of the sixth boat had prompted this reaction from him, seeing as rather than being filthy or vandalised it was so sparkling clean it was blinding to look directly at in the sunlight. Chris had somehow managed to don a pair of designer sunglasses without ceasing his posing and still able to watch the boat with his trademark grin in place.

"Arriving on the flagship of Wawanakwa's Flotilla of Marine Mastery is our sixth camper, the fun-loving Heidi! Oh and as a side note, Chris McLean Heavy Duty Sunglasses are for sale in a store near you! Rendering the wearer almost totally blind they are great for use in staring at the sun or in the approach of an apocalyptic solar flare, buy now or miss out!"

Heidi gracefully hopped off her boat onto the dock before flipping her bright red hair and shooting a stunning smile over at her fellow campers. Her smile seemed impossibly large and seemed to give off a blinding sparkle that forced the group assembled at the end of the dock to look away. Chris who was practically blind in his heavy duty sunglasses was looking at a spot roughly to her left as he welcomed her to the island.

"Welcome to Camp Wawa_" a member of the camera crew hissed an instruction to Chris and he frowned, ripping his sunglasses off and turning to look in Heidi's actual direction. "Nakwa Heidi," he continued as if nothing had happened. "The other campers would love to meet you, but first, what's with the white ribbon in your hair? Planning to strangle the other contestants with it?"

"Only if they ask for it," laughed Heidi, "surely your ratings will handle one less murderous rampage?"

"I'm legally obliged to say that I do not condone any murderous rampages taking place on my show, no matter how much of a ratings boost that would be. Anyway, time to join your competitors before our next contestant shows up." Heidi sauntered down the dock, her hips swaying as she walked. Isaac shook himself out of a stupor and eagerly stepped forward to greet her.

"You can join my zombie survival group," he offered hopefully, "we're an elite unit of survivors," he added, ignoring the fact that he group so far consisted of himself and the self-proclaimed berserker Matthew. Heidi just shook her head playfully.

"That doesn't sound like much fun does it?" she asked, her green eyes wide open, "I'd rather go to a party to be honest."

"Hey!" protested Maria, punching Isaac's arm, "how come I didn't get an invite to your little group Isaac?"

"It's against my code to work with androids, no matter how useful they are. You can never trust a machine. My stupid computer keeps deleting all my zombie survival files every time I turn my back on it."

"I. Am. Not. An. Android," Maria grabbed Everett by his ear and dragged him forward from where he'd been skulking at the back of the group. "Ok Everett, tell him you were kidding about the android stuff now!"

"Are you mad?" demanded Everett, "do you want the fire spirit to incinerate me!" he pointed at Heidi who was now supposedly a fire spirit according to him. Whether Everett believed all redheads were fire spirits or just Heidi in particular was left unsaid.

"Fire spirit?" Heidi beamed at him, "that's cute."

"Um, I don't think that was meant to be cute," commented Sandra. "I mean you can say someone has a fiery spirit but referring to them as a perpetually combusting sentient being isn't supposed to be cute."

"Nothing is meant to be cute, this whole world is nothing but a wasteland of savage rage," mused Matthew, "Didn't you people learn that in school?"

"I studied robotics," answered Maria, "so I was learning things a little more serious than depressing philosophy."

"Robotics?" muttered Everett, "figures, machines building machines." Thankfully, Chris announcing the arrival of a seventh boat was enough to delay whatever rage Maria was about to unleash on Everett over the whole android thing.

"Our seventh camper has a reputation for laziness but bills himself as the greatest genius to have ever lived on the earth; I'll let you decide for yourselves because here's Larry!" Like the first boat to arrive, this one was encrusted in filth; unfortunately its passenger didn't look much better. Standing from where he had been lying on the deck, Larry revealed himself to have greasy long blonde hair hanging unkemptly down to his shoulders and a patchy beard spotting his cheeks. His clothes were ragged and holey but he appeared wholly unconcerned with his appearance, despite appearing in front of the cameras. He gave a lazy wave in response to the disgusted stares he was receiving from many of the campers and strolled casually up to Chris before lifting his hand for a high five.

"Yo Cleanster, I've nothing but respect for the cushy job you've landed, gimme five!"

"Sorry dude, I don't want to touch you, and besides my job is not cushy, do you know how hard it is to think up such brilliant challenges?"

"Nah just read them off one of those lists on the internet, that's way easier. Or even better, get someone else to do it! See, this is why they call me a genius."

"Yeaaaaah, I'm sure they do, could you go over to stand with the others so you can talk to real people instead of the ones in your head? That'd be great."

"If you say so Cleanster, but you sent my stuff ahead to the island so I don't have my Segway. Guess I'll have to walk, what a waste of effort." Larry shook his head in disappointment and resumed his casual stroll down the dock, determined not to tire himself in the slightest. Unfortunately for him, he chose to greet Matthew first when he reached the group, which never ends well.

"Yo Hoodster! Too lazy to pull the hood back down despite the sunny weather? I respect your intellect pal." Once again he raised his hand in anticipation of a high five. Instead, Matthew growled in rage and punched Larry's open palm with enough force to send him stumbling backwards.

"Hoodster? I am Matthew the avatar of rage, not your pal and I wear this hood so my enemies will never see the face of the one who ends them, fear the unknown!" He didn't notice Maria chuckling behind him, seriously doubting that he had 'ended' anyone.

"Whatever pal, I like how you didn't even bother to dry your clothes after you washed them," said Larry, commenting on the fat that Matthew was still soaking wet after his dip in the ocean. "Don't know why you bothered to wash them in the first place but I've still got respect for you."

"He just punched you!" shouted Isaac, "are you just gonna take that?" Larry just shrugged carelessly.

"Nah, getting angry takes too much effort. Apathy is all the way to go for minimum stress."

"Yep, real genius material right here," said Sandra, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

"Our eighth arrival is seven foot tall, punches through walls instead of using doors and eats weaklings like all of you for breakfast. That's right, he's a giant and hope for rating's sake that he's violent, it's Donovan."

While not sparkling clean like Heidi's boat had been, Donovan's ride was still in perfect condition and upon seeing him everyone could understand why no one dared give him a subpar boat. He was probably taller than seven foot and he looked as broad as a barn, stretching his sleeveless grey shirt tight against his chest. His arms looked as thick as tree trunks and seemed to be made of pure muscle while unsettling tribal patterns had been shaved into his dark hair. As everyone watched, he ripped a section of the boat railing free and slammed the end down against the dock, using it to vault off the boat, his weight nearly snapping it in half. The whole dock seemed to tremble upon his landing and Chris winced, probably hoping the thing wouldn't fall apart until the rest of the campers had arrived. Donovan hurled the piece of railing into the water and stepped forward to tower over Chris Mclean.

"Dude! Way to make entrance!" said Chris, "are you ready to demolish the other competitors or what!?" Donovan looked down at him ponderously before decisively shaking his head.

"Perhaps they may find themselves in ruins because of my actions, but it is my intention to see them leave this island stronger than when they arrived. I do not hold it against them, but far too many of my opponents will have led comfortable lives of plenty and such an existence is meaningless. Titles must be earned and possessions fought for, beliefs are powerless if they go unchallenged. It is my purpose to challenge them and shake them from complacency." Nobody had been expecting that long speech, Chris least of all. Perhaps this wasn't the enraged giant he was looking for.

"Okaaaaaaaaaay, way too much philosophy there dude, could you just go over there and threaten some people, let the cameras see the fear in their eyes," suggested Chris, moving so he was out of Donovan's shadow.

"I will see who I will face," Donovan agreed solemnly and made his way down the dock. Isaac looked like he was going to leap forward and recruit Donovan as an ace zombie slayer but Everett pushed in front of him, pointing an accusing finger at the approaching boy.

"He's a half giant, his kind have finally emerged from whatever rock they've been hiding under!" Sandra just sighed at this claim, shaking her head.

"Do I really need to explain the impracticalities of human-giant crossbreeding to you?" she asked in a mildly threatening tone. Maria took one look at Everett and fearing he was going to say yes plugged her headphones back in.

"Lalalalala, I'm not listening to this," she said in a monotonous chant. Donovan kept walking until he was right in front of Everett, staring down at him.

"You spout lies with such conviction, do you mock me or is your mind truly so clouded?" he asked, there was no anger in his voice, only curiosity.

"If you're going to fight someone, fight me!" shouted Matthew, suddenly charging the giant and swinging his fist. Donovan caught his arm and practically threw Matthew back at the others, causing them to scatter in a panic. Except for Larry of course, movement was far too much work for the lazy teenager.

"Rage is an easy emotion," he warned Matthew, as the boy stumbled about the dock trying to regain his balance. "Constantly calling on it will only leave you weak and drained in the end." The other campers closed ranks once more, though numbers probably wouldn't do much to deter Donovan.

"Well shucks, maybe I've got this whole apathy thing wrong then?" wondered Larry, "nah, it takes too much effort to work myself into a rage."

"Stop antagonising the guy you idiots!" snapped Isaac, "can't you see he'd make a great fighter for my zombie survival group?"

"I don't fear the dead," said Donovan, "but there is no point in fighting them, they will learn nothing from it."

"Someone is a little serious aren't they? I think someone needs to teach you how to relax," advised Heidi, "this obsession with teaching stuff seems kind of unhealthy."

"Funny you should mention unhealthy obsessions because our next camper doesn't even seem to realise that she's a human. I couldn't contact anyone who had her real name so she's just going by Wolf." A dishevelled looking girl with matted mousey brown hair and feral yellow eyes was perched on the railing the ninth boat. She threw her head back and howled up into the sky before launching herself onto the dock, landing on all fours. Rather than attempting to speak to Chris, she just growled at him.

"Ok, I take it back," Heidi said to Donovan, "your problems are nothing compared to whatever the hell she has going on right now."

"I'd tell you to greet your fellow campers but I don't think you know how to speak so uh, just go over there okay," said Chris, making a shooing gesture at her. Wolf dodged around him and loped down the dock towards the other campers.

"Do you think she was really raised in the wild?" wondered Sandra, "the psychological implications would be fascinating!"

"She certainly looks like she just came out of the woods," replied Maria, noticing that there appeared to be some leaves stuck in Wolf's hair.

"Yeah but her clothes all look like they've just been bought," mused Heidi, "shame about her hair though, how's mine?" she grabbed Everett's shoulder and spun him around to face her so she could admire her own reflection in his mirrored sunglasses while he stuttered ineffectually.

"Bah! Caring about your appearance is too much of a hassle," said Larry dismissively, "this girl is clearly a genius in the ways of applying minimum effort to life. I mean look, she hasn't even bothered to stand up straight, you've got to respect that."

"I wish you thought talking was too much effort," muttered Isaac, "the zombie apocalypse is far more important than your mastery of laziness."

"A master of laziness is nothing compared to a master of rage," bragged Matthew, "no one can fly off the handle as easily as I can."

"I have no patience for fools who believe their weakness gives them strength," growled Donovan before turning to where Wolf was crouched, watching them with curious eyes. "Can you stand?" he asked, all harshness gone from his voice. The wild girl nodded and cautiously rose to her feet.

"She's just a werewolf consumed by her bestial side," announced Everett in that usual matter of fact way he would announce complete nonsense. Heidi had apparently grown bored of looking at herself in his sunglasses and he had used this opening to make a nuisance of himself once again. "I've got a book on the subject if anyone wants to borrow it." Wolf just turned to look at him with a baffled expression on her face, neither confirming nor denying her status as a werewolf.

"Be thankful you cannot understand his deranged ravings," said Donovan, "you are stronger for the fact you are not burdened by the flaws imposed by human society."

"Newsflash brainiac," interrupted Sandra, "she probably can't understand you either; stick to simple speech would you?"

"And what's this about humanity being flawed?" asked Isaac, "Human pride!"

"This is so rageworthy, you're all so annoying I can't decide who to attack," fumed Matthew as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists.

"I can predict you won't be attacking Donovan," said Maria, "because that worked out so well for you last time."

"Well I predict that our next camper considers herself to be psychic!" shouted Chris, drawing the campers' attention away from their bizarre conversation and towards the boat approaching the dock. "Did you foresee what I did there? I can also sense that she's called Alice and that's she's here to win ONE MILLION DOLLARS!" The door of wheelhouse swung open and an eerie cloud of smoke billowed out and drifted over to the campers who were assaulted by the rank stench of… Lavenders? A sense of relaxation and drowsiness fell over most of the campers, Donovan of course appeared stoically unaffected and Everett had pinched his nose shut and was holding his breath. Sandra too seemed unaffected; her sense of smell crippled by one too many mad science experiments.

The brief moment of serenity was interrupted by a sudden mechanical roar as a massive fan Chris seemed to have produced from thin air blasted the cloud of smoke clear of the campers. There was a period of relative silence as the campers who had been affected by the incense gradually shook themselves back into reality. In fact the only sound was Everett gasping for breath after spending all that time holding it in his mad plan to protect himself.

"Nice one dudette," complained Chris as Alice jumped down onto the dock, "there's a reason this season is called Total Drama OUTRAGE, people aren't supposed to be feeling peaceful!"

"My sincere apologies, Chris Chance Mclean, I didn't bring any incense that will induce mindless rage. I fear it disrupts my meditations." Alice's voice sounded strangely unearthly and spiritual, like everything she said was part of some grand prophecy. Not only was her voice strange, so was the rest of her appearance, her hair had been dyed dark green and flowers were woven into it. Arcane symbols and mysterious words in foreign languages ran all over the brown robes she had turned up in.

"My middle name isn't Chance, psychic FAIL!" shouted Chris, his sudden outburst making several campers gasp in shock. Alice didn't seem even remotely concerned by this, her eyes were vacant and she seemed to be staring at something in the distance that no one else could see.

"I know, the word just came into my mind right in the middle of saying your name, I suspect it's meaning will become clear soon," Alice assured him, "Now I shall familiarise myself with the psychic energies of my fellow contestants." Alice had a slow measured walk and almost appeared to float down the dock towards where the others were grouped until she reached the silent crowd. "Greetings all, I am psychic," she told them all calmly like that was perfectly normal way to introduce yourself.

"Oh good!" enthused Heidi, "does that mean you can do palm reading?" she asked, offering her palm to Alice.

"Ha! Any fool can read palms," said Larry, "I'll do it right now," he strode over to Heidi and glanced briefly at her palm. "See, you've a got a line here and a line there, that means something is going to happen. I'm a genius!" Alice looked at him with a sort of dispassionate curiosity, similar to way one might glance at an oddly shaped rock.

"You have a brilliant mind," she said, "that is true. Also your favourite colour is purple."

"Nah, having a favourite colour is for people who care about stuff." Donovan suddenly let out a harsh bark of laughter, startling everyone around him. He didn't really look like the sort who laughed a lot.

"Already I begin to doubt you have any real ability," he sneered, "those who pretend to have power only drive themselves further into weakness, even if those around them falsely believe they have strength."

"And you have a great deal of power, don't you? Along with a desire to fix that which you find to be broken," she replied evenly, "I suspect that only two who set foot on this island will be able to match you."

"I'm one of them aren't I?" demanded Matthew, "with enough rage I can overcome any obstacle."

"Your anger will not help you," warned Alice, "nor will his fear," she added, pointing at Everett who had been glaring at her from behind his mirrored sunglasses from the moment she had arrived.

"I'm not afraid of you, telepath!" Everett's voice was suddenly filled with unconcealed fury, "See this yellow shirt? Yellow is the most distracting colour and the most tiring to look at so it'll weaken your powers. Between that and my mirrored sunglasses you'll never be able to get into my head."

"I really don't think I'd even want to," Alice said sadly, matching his fury with what could only be called pity. "You are quite disturbed." Everett appeared disarmed by this, obviously caught off guard by the lack of the psychic onslaught he was expecting.

"Demented as Everett is," interrupted Isaac, "when you're finished insulting him could you tell me when the zombie apocalypse is going to occur?"

"Necromancy is forbidden, no real practitioner of the art has existed in centuries. The dead will not rise on our watch. Curses are still quite popular though," she added as an afterthought.

"Do none of you have even the slightest respect for science?" demanded Sandra, "zombies, psychics and now necromancy? You're all insane if you waste any time with that load of unproven nonsense and superstition."

"You know what Wolf? I think I envy the fact you probably can't understand a word of these idiots are saying, or even what I'm saying for that matter," said Maria. Wolf turned to look at her as she spoke but gave no sign that Maria's words meant anything to her.

"What is this!? We have an arrival schedule here people!" Chris was apparently greatly disturbed by the arrival of the next boat, an old fashioned paddle steamer churning through the water. A member of the camera crew shouted something indistinguishable to which Chris shook his head. "I don't care if he was in a rowboat; he was supposed to arrive now! Ok people, arriving earlier than he was supposed to it's our resident card shark, Chance!"

A sinister looking boy dressed in a fashion eerily reminiscent of an old time gangster in a pinstriped suit and a fedora pulled low over his face jumped down onto the dock. "I don't follow schedules Mclean, makes it too easy for your rivals to get at you."

"What, your rivals in little league poker? Mad at you after you won their whole piggy bank?" cracked Chris, "you won't be a big time gambler unless you win the million dollars, buddy."

"Life's a gamble Mclean, as my fellow competitors are about to realise," Chance reached into his pocket and pulled out a playing card, the ace of diamonds, and handed it to Chris, "my card," was all he said before setting off down the dock. Chris shrugged and threw the card into the water where a severely mutated fish snapped it up seconds later.

"I HATE gamblers!" roared Matthew, proving once again that he was a total lunatic, "I'll give you ten to one odds my fist smashes your stupid face!" Matthew took a run at the new arrival before anyone could stop him.

"You lose," Chance said coldly, stepping aside and stretching out his arm to clothesline the running Matthew, sending his legs flying out from underneath him. Matthew slammed hard into the dock and is his desperation to get back up he managed to roll right off the side of the dock, crashing into the water with a splash. Apparently one swim wasn't enough for the enraged boy. "Now was he an outlier or does anyone else want to have a go?"

"Defeating a fool is no achievement," observed Donovan, "you ooze arrogance and wear pretence as armour against reality. I am not impressed."

"Sorry Chance," said Sandra, "Donovan already trounced Matthew before you arrived and data collected in a great deal of studies confirm that an event is significantly less impressive the second time it occurs. Unless of course the number of times the event occurs is the impressive factor. In order to increase the relative impressiveness of your action you'd have to throw Matthew into the water another couple of times."

"I think he might be dead," mused Heidi, "he hasn't come back up to surface yet has he?"

"Oh I don't think I killed him, he wasn't even wearing concrete shoes," said Chance, seemingly unconcerned by this turn of events. At that moment, a mutant fish, the size of a dolphin and covered in razor sharp spines burst out of the water and hit the dock, with Matthew clinging to its tail fin.

"I HATE fish!" in an instant Matthew was back on his feet and violently shoved the flopping fish off the dock." Life and death struggle with the local aquatic life over, Matthew turned to glare at Chance who had joined the others by this time. "I won't forget that you little punk."

"You will if he hits you over the head with a lead pipe," suggested Isaac, "I would have brought one in my luggage but the baseball bat has a higher knockback score."

"This isn't a video game," Maria rolled her eyes, "besides I don't think amnesia works like that."

"Yeah, the whole thing about amnesia coming from head injuries is a myth, it's actually caused by a government serum with a secret recipe consisting of eleven secret herbs and spices," said Everett seriously.

"Who uses recipes anymore? Everyone knows microwave food takes much less effort," said Larry.

"Don't you still have to read how long you need to heat it for?" asked Heidi.

"Nah, I just nuke it into slush and drink it, saves the energy you'd have spent chewing the stuff."

"Now I'd pay to see that," said Chance, "any of you up for a round of poker? First one to go bust has to drink radioactive sludge."

"Sorry, I've been banned from most card games," explained Alice, "people always accuse me of using my psychic powers to cheat. For example, I know that the card you handed Chris Mclean was the seven of spades."

"Actually, that's not even close to the card I gave Chris, and anyway you don't need psychic powers to cheat at cards, any fool can do it," he paused and looked over to where Wolf was now rolling on her back, randomly barking at nothing. "Except maybe her, I don't think she even knows what cards are by the look of her."

"Unbelievable! Where is that clown with the rowboat? Can this schedule get mauled any worse?" this mysterious rowboat Chris was waiting for still hadn't shown up, instead a yacht with flashing police lights arrived at the dock. "I'd stow that talk about cheating if I were you, or anything else against the rules because the next camper arriving ahead of schedule fancies herself to be a police officer. It's Stacey, future traffic cop!"

"Officer Stacey, thank you very much," barked Stacey as she jumped down onto the dock, "and I was thinking of working with the narcotics squad, maybe violent crime or homicide, I'll figure it out." Though she wasn't part of any official police force, Stacey seemed to have invented her own department and uniform to match. Both the grey cap she was wearing and the black vest over her shirt had WPD, presumably short for Wawanakwa Police Department emblazoned on them in white. The shirt under her vest and the long pants she was wearing were both navy blue in colour and a short brown ponytail extended from out the back of her cap. "I'm going to have to confiscate the million dollars, I have reason to suspect it's the proceeds of crime and therefore forfeit," her green eyes were fixed so intently on Chris Mclean it was impossible to tell whether she was joking or not.

"Nuh uh, you'll have to win this money 'fairly'," Chris chuckled, unable to keep a straight face while saying this, "like all the other contestants. Feel free to try and arrest the other contestants over there though, I'm fairly sure most of them are crimes against nature."

"Very funny, I'll head to interrogate, er, meet them right away," said Stacey, sharply spinning about face to march down the dock.

"Matthew, I would not advise shouting that you hate the police," Alice warned him softly, "I foresee that it would end badly for you."

"Oh yeah?" snarled Matthew, "well I HATE advice!" At the sound of his voice, Stacey sprinted the remaining distance down the dock, pointing accusingly at Matthew.

"Public disturbance! Noise pollution! You're going away for a looooooong time," she announced gleefully. Surprisingly, Donovan, who you would hardly expect to protect anyone, moved to block Stacey's view of Matthew, towering over the wannabe cop with a grim expression on his face. Seemingly undeterred from her quest to bring Matthew to justice for his minor offenses, Stacey tried to dart around Donovan. "Move it ogre, or I'll have you for obstruction of justice."

"You are not justice. You act with authority you do not have and until you earn a position in law enforcement through dedicated training you hold no power over me, the enraged one or anyone else here," he informed her, moving with surprising speed to block her attempt to evade him. Larry who obviously had still not realised that Matthew wasn't the friendly sort clapped him on the back.

"Good job Donovan was there to stop her pal, saved you the effort of resisting arrest." Matthew let out a growl of barely suppressed rage and wrenched himself away from Larry's hand and tried to jump out from behind Donovan.

"I HATE people trying to protect me and I HATE people trying to arrest me! Let me at her!" Donovan tried to block him with an arm but Matthew ducked under it and lunged at Stacey, only to stop dead a few feet away from her as Donovan seized the back of his still wet hoodie and held him in place.

"Something tells me that Donovan would make a great bodyguard," mused Chance, "and he could stop people from accusing me of cheating them out their money."

"You're all a bunch of crooks," Stacey was fuming as she strode away from the struggle between Matthew and Donovan to stand elsewhere, "I can't let any of you win one million dollars for your criminal enterprises."

"Cease your prattling, pretender," ordered Donovan before he released Matthew and shoved him over to Isaac, "keep an eye on him, before he hurts himself again."

"Whatever you say man," agreed Isaac, "I'm not going to argue with you right now." Maria rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue in annoyance at the exchange.

"So glad I arrived before Donovan," she said, "or else I would have received one of his charming comments as well."

"Your time will come, monotonous one," warned Donovan solemnly, "I will find flaws wherever they lurk."

"My. Voice. Is. Not. Monotonous!"

"Actually it is, maybe a deeply rooted psychological problem has afflicted you with flat effect," pondered Sandra.

"Yeah sorry Maria, just not feeling the frustration in your voice," said Heidi apologetically, "have you considered taking acting classes?"

"Ha! She already pretends to act like a human!" interjected Everett, prompting Maria to stomp angrily on his foot. "Hey! Unnecessary."

"On the contrary, violence is a necessity for great ratings!" said Chris cheerfully, a sadistic grin on his face. "Which is why our next camper, who has FINALLY arrived horribly off schedule might I add, is an expert on the subject of violence. In fact, he spends several days a week practicing his brutal techniques and beating down anyone who dares challenge him. Campers, get your neck braces and slings ready because our next contestant is Marshall!"

The rowboat Chris had been complaining about earlier finally came into view, the oars manned by a boy dressed all in white. As the campers watched, the boy dropped the oars and rose to his feet in one smooth motion, despite being on a rocking boat. He tensed like a coiled spring and suddenly he was flipping through the air to land easily on the dock. From the way Chris had described him, the campers had been expecting some kind of monstrous thug but Marshall looked completely normal and perfectly friendly. His white outfit turned out to be a Karate Gi complete with a black belt and his closely cropped hair was trapped between brown and blonde, not really either colour. There was no cruel look in his pale blue eyes; he looked more bored than anything else.

"Psych!" shouted Chris suddenly, lunging at Marshall swinging a wooden plank he seemed to have materialised out of thin air right at him. Without the slightest change in his expression, Marshall pivoted slightly and his foot lashed out like lightning, neatly snapping the plank in two. "See, told you he was good," said Chris smugly, "welcome to the island Marshall, you're not a philosopher are you?" If he was puzzled by the question, the young martial artist didn't show it.

"No, I'm more about action than endlessly pondering things."

"Good! Finally a proper bruiser on this island, go and join the others!" Marshall offered him a polite bow before walking over to the other campers. As one his fellow competitors turned to look at Donovan, waiting for him to make some abrasive comment about the newest arrival. Marshall of course hadn't been there for any of the previous arrivals so he misinterpreted the gesture as a deferral to Donovan and decided he was some sort of leader figure. He approached Donovan and offered him a respectful bow as well.

"Pleased to meet you, the others seem to respect you, or fear you, one of the two."

"I am Donovan, and the others fear the change I embody. You I suspect are not so easily intimidated," replied Donovan. "You wear your strength openly to prevent others from seeing weakness behind it. Know that I will find your faults regardless."

"Anybody not see that coming?" asked Isaac, "because I think we were all expecting that."

"I didn't see that coming," replied Alice in her mystical tone, mistakenly believing Isaac was discussing actually psychically foreseeing the previous conversation. "I'd be surprised if any of you did either."

"So would I," said Sandra, "considering that psychic visions are all a load of hocus pocus. Anyone who claims to have had a psychic vision was either on drugs, mentally ill or a liar."

"All three of those options sound like too much hassle," complained Larry, "in fact psychic visions sound like a hassle as well. I wouldn't bother with them if I were you."

"I'm going to take a wild guess and say you aren't involved in martial arts," observed Marshall as he looked at Larry, "or any forms of physical activity."

"I HATE martial arts!" spat Matthew, continuing his running trend of hating pretty much everything people brought up. "My rage allows me to overcome any of your mystic techniques. Fight me! I dare you."

"No," Marshall shook his head, "I will not fight anyone who has not been trained."

"So you'd just stand there and do nothing if I attacked you?" asked Matthew.

"I would defend myself without harming you if it was possible. My life would not be in danger so there would be no need for drastic actions."

"You could fight that Wolf girl then," suggested Chance, "she'd probably try and rip your throat out like a wild animal." Wolf snarled and lunged towards Chance, gnashing her teeth and gesticulating wildly.

"Someone get a zookeeper and some tranquiliser darts," said Stacey, "we have a rabid animal on the loose." Wolf instantly went quiet and sat down peacefully on the dock, staring into the water as if nothing had happened.

"Ok, I'm starting to think she understands more than I thought. I suppose that makes sense, how else would she participate in challenges?" asked Maria.

"Oh you mean like one of those really intelligent trained animals! I taught my parrot song lyrics!" announced Heidi randomly, "How cute is that?" Everett muttered something that sounded suspiciously like 'avian spies' but people had generally stopped paying attention to his ramblings by this point so he went unchallenged.

"Speaking of not-so-intelligent trained animals the next happy camper joining you is a painter and a lightning fast sketch artist with a photographic memory. You can see some of her work right there," said Chris as he pointed at the fourteenth boat arriving. As opposed to the crude graffiti that had covered some of the other boats, the hull of this boat had been painted to depict a vibrant and unearthly landscape with silver mountains and a purple sky. "Welcome our next camper, Lauren!" A girl dressed in paint-stained white painter's overalls and wearing a black beret dropped down onto the dock and offered Chris a bright grin.

"Uh, Lauren, you've got something stuck behind your ear," pointed out Chris. Lauren had a pencil propped behind one ear. "Just thought you might want to know."

"It's meant to be there," she said casually, "so I always have a pencil ready for sketching if I come across a good scene."

"One, I thought you had a photographic memory and two, have you heard of pockets?"

"Yeah but a scene always translates better if it's fresh you know? And pockets are for chumps."

"Suuuuuure, feel free to join the others, like now." Rather than leaving immediately she paused to stare at her fellow competitors before making the same unfortunate decision Larry had and approaching Matthew first. Apparently the whole dripping wet hoodie thing and the eyes blazing with fury made people think he was really approachable or something.

"Hey can I sketch you?" she asked, "you look sort of like the Grim Reaper's annoying little brother if you know what I mean." At first Matthew looked flattered by the Grim Reaper part but his expression quickly switched to rage when the annoying little brother thing sunk in.

"I HATE_" he was suddenly cut off by Isaac clapping a hand over his mouth and forcibly pulling him away from Lauren.

"It's handled Donovan!" Isaac shouted hastily, "I was watching him the whole time, honest!" Of course he'd actually been distracted by zombie daydreams as usual, hence why he had done nothing when Matthew confronted Marshall.

"I feel as though I've missed something rather important," said Lauren in a bemused tone, watching as Matthew was dragged further away.

"Nah, Isaac just thought Donovan would kill him for letting Matthew act like an idiot again," explained Larry, not that it made much sense to someone who had just arrived. "Happens every five minutes around here."

"Mostly correct," agreed Sandra, "Matthew's behaviour varies slightly each time, the thing he hates is different for starters and he attacks some people and not others."

"Ah, so he's less of the Grim Reaper and more like one of the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse," Lauren said sagely, continuing the tradition of not making a shred of sense.

"War most likely," suggested Chance.

"Either that or Pestilence," agreed Stacey. Meanwhile Lauren had decided to find someone else to sketch who was both interesting and considerably less aggressive than Matthew. With her green hair and brown robes, Alice was an obvious choice so Lauren bounded over to her.

"Can I sketch you then?" she asked hopefully.

"You could but in the end you'd decide that you didn't like how the picture turned out and refuse to show it to me," predicted Alice, "I'm a psychic by the way." Maria just rolled her eyes at this.

"Not to mention the fact she doesn't have a sketchpad or even a scrap of paper, I think that might be a more pressing concern in the case of this hypothetical bad picture."

"Then she shall use our flesh as a canvas, and our blood as ink," intoned Everett in a dramatically deep voice. You could almost see ominous storm clouds hovering over him.

"Ok that was more than a little morbid Everett, you and I really need to have a talk about lightening up a little," said Heidi, "I mean we've already got Donovan to act all serious for us."

"And besides, I didn't mean right now, I'll get my sketchpad back when we collect our luggage," explained Lauren.

"Don't be too certain you will find your luggage undisturbed" warned Donovan, "This is a dangerous place." If Wolf thought this was something to be concerned about, she didn't show it, merely opting to run circles around Donovan while happily barking.

"It's alright for you," Chance said sourly, "I'll bet you don't even have luggage. It's a gamble for the rest of us."

"Indeed it is, so it's quite lucky our next camper is also a gambler, and a ninja, and a pirate, and a special ops commando, and a computer wizard. At least that's what he said in his audition .Anyway; welcome our next contestant, Billy!" Bill had apparently had the same art idea as Lauren but his execution was a little less elegant. Instead of a surreal landscape he'd gone with a massive blue number one. On the deck stood a boy who seemed to have been extremely indecisive when selecting his outfit. He was wearing an army helmet over his hair, had an eye patch over one eye and a black bandana covering the lover half of his face. He wore a military jacket like Isaac's over a black shirt with the words IT Ninja written on it and topped the ensemble off with traditional Kung Fu trousers that billowed out around his legs and he leapt down onto the docks.

"I thank you for your accurate introduction Chris Mclean," said Billy as he swept off his helmet, "but they call me Honest Billy because I've never told a lie in my life. Can you redo my intro with my real name?"

"Yeeaaaaaaah how about no? What have I told you people about hogging my camera time?"

"What!?" Billy looked highly offended by the suggestion that he would hog camera time, "why I've never hogged a camera in my life!" he paused to stare directly into the camera, "Speaking of my life, let me tell you about the time I saved the president of Atlantis from an oil spill using only a rubber duck."

"Save it for the confessional cam dude," complained Chris, "we don't have all day here."

"Ok then, but make sure you contact my agent before you air any of my life story, I'll be expecting royalty payments." Billy swept his helmet back on before dropping down to lie flat on the deck and starting to commando crawl his way towards the others.

"Uh, he does know we can still see him even if he crawls right?" asked Maria, concerned that yet more crazy had been dumped onto the shores of Wawanakwa.

"Perhaps he is more focused on concealing his psychic energy?" wondered Alice, "I can barely sense his approach."

"Hmm, would you say psychic energy tastes like a sugar-coated rainbow or a chocolate dream cloud? I have to get the taste right before I can visualise it properly," explained Lauren.

"Ok I don't even know where to start in explaining how scientifically absurd everything that came out of your mouth just was," said Sandra.

"Then don't bother," advised Larry, "save yourself the effort." Billy's ridiculous crawl was cut short as Donovan strode over to block him. There was obviously only so much nonsense the giant was willing to see before he started tearing into people. Billy scrabbled backwards and clumsily pulled himself back upright. Another person might have realised that this might be a good time to stop acting like an idiot but Billy apparently didn't figure this out.

"Now don't you look familiar? I think I took out twelve thugs just like you in a street fight the other night. I don't like to mention it though, since I was armed with a toothpick at the time so they didn't really stand a chance."

"You cling pathetically to blatant lies. You believe stacking enough false titles before your name makes you something. Strip away the lies and you are nothing, achieve something instead of merely pretending to have achieved it."

"Back up there big guy, I have a doctorate in psychology and everything you just said screams early psychosis to me. I can get you help but_"

"Pathetic," snarled Donovan, cutting him off before turning his back on Billy and walking back to join the others.

"Tough luck, there was a high probability that Donovan was going to do that," said Chance, "in fact it's almost a certainty that you'll run into someone who is bizarre or unfriendly upon arrival on this island."

"Yeah don't worry about it," agreed Isaac, "you can always join my zombie survival group. Have you ever played Mutant Cyborg Zombie Apocalyptic Smackdown before?"

"Played it?" Billy had quickly bounced back from Donovan's verbal assault and moved over to join Isaac, "I'm the rank one player! Hell I practically developed the game." Isaac's eyes nearly bulged out of his head.

"I don't believe it, you're 'IAMBECOMEDEATH'? I thought he was from Sweden!"

"Nah, that's just a story I tell my fans so they can't harass me as easily you know?" Isaac and Billy instantly lapsed into a nigh incomprehensive conversation about zombies, building upgrades and best team builds from which nothing short of the zombie apocalypse could disturb them.

"Please tell me that no one is stupid enough to believe a word this guy says? If he ever testified in court I'd have him for perjury quick smart," threatened Stacey, talking to no one in particular.

"I have extreme doubts that Wawanakwa Police Department actually exists you know," said Marshall, "Just something you might want to keep in mind before you threaten to arrest people."

"Oh don't worry about it," Heidi assured him, "she's been doing that since she arrived and pretty much accused all of us being criminals, it's sort of a habit of hers."

"It's because you are all criminals!" fumed Stacey, "I mean look how shifty he is!" she pointed at Everett who had been periodically spinning around to make sure no one was sneaking up on him for the last few minutes.

"I'm not a shape shifter, if that's what you're getting at," was all Everett said, evidently utterly failing to understand what shifty meant.

"Ha, and people say I misinterpret things people say," scoffed Matthew. Unfortunately his attempt to appear superior was slightly ruined when Wolf looked in his general direction and barked. "You want to fight me!? I don't care if you're half wolf, I'm ALL rage."

"Ugh, kill me now," groaned Maria, "Can this get any worse?"

"Well I'm glad you asked, Maria, because the answer is YES! We have one last arrival and then the real fun starts!" said Chris, his tone leaving no doubts that he'd be the only one who found things even remotely amusing. "Our last camper claims to have a noble heritage stretching back over a dozen generations and is probably going to make the rest of you look like slobs. Not that it would be very hard. "Welcome our sixteenth and final contestant for this season, Lady Cynthia!" While most of the campers had arrived in Yachts in various states of repair, the vessel that arrived next was easily a cruise ship. A broad boarding ramp extended from the side of the ship and a girl with streaming blonde hair dressed in a three-piece suit complete with top hat, silver handled cane and a gold pocket watch emerged and elegantly made her way down to the dock.

"Please, Mister Mclean, just call me Cynthia. I would prefer my fellow competitors were not intimidated by my title if that is possible."

"Fine!" snapped Chris rudely, "first I get Billy whinging I'm not giving his full title and you don't even want yours. Go join the others so they can make stupid comments for the next couple of minutes then I'll get this show on the road."

"If you say so Mister Mclean, I shall do my best not to add to the communal level of ignorance during this time period." Cynthia departed down the dock, her cane tapping rhythmically ahead of her with clockwork timing. Even Wolf looked impressed by her appearance and demeanour, ceasing her barking and running about to stare at the approaching girl. Of course, the exception to practically every rule, Donovan was unimpressed, folding his arms dismissively.

"What good is a title one is simply born with?" he asked, "Why afford someone a higher station due to mere coincidence? Society is crippled by behaviour like this."

"Oh totally," drawled Maria, "That's the main problem with society these days. What, do you think people should be classed based on how good they are at looking down on things?"

"You mean because he's so tall?" asked Heidi, adding yet another occurrence of missing the point to a long list.

"Tell me about it," agreed Everett, "I swear he's half giant."

"We've gone over this Everett," warned Sandra, "human/giant crossbreeding is extremely impractical."

"I don't think so, I mean you just have to be imaginative and it all makes sense," mused Lauren as she stared blankly into the sky.

"Imagination is for tryhards, real intellectuals just nick other people's ideas and say them better," said Larry, offering up his rather depressing view on the creative process. Stacey only paid attention to the word nick and immediately assumed Larry was planning a robbery.

"Can you criminals get any more blatant?" she asked in disbelief, "planning a robbery right in front of me!"

"Ah yes, I foresee there will be robbery on this island, causing great ripples in the pond of life," said Alice.

"Robes and flowers in your hair, how quaint, are you a witch my dear?" despite the tapping of her cane, Cynthia still startled the small group with her sudden appearance.

"No, I'm just psychic, just like you are really a world class chef in disguise."

"You seem to have mistaken me for someone else, I'm afraid I don't do much cooking myself, sorry about that."

"I HATE witches!" now that Isaac was no longer keeping an eye on Matthew, the self-styled berserker was back to his old tricks. He attempted to charge Alice but failed miserably when Marshall grabbed him and spun him about to face another direction, effectively killing his momentum.

"Harmless and yet effective," observed Marshall, "use your enemy's strength against them."

"Oh dear, is that boy in the red hood quite alright?" asked Cynthia, "He seems rather disturbed."

"He'll be fine, just some anger management problems," said Chance, "he loses his cool as easily as he breathes."

"Time's up victims!" announced Chris, "all sixteen of you have arrived safely on the island," he ignored the pointed glares both Matthew and Maria shot at him. "Now if you'd all pay attention…" he trailed off as Isaac and Billy continued to ignore him, still talking about zombies. Chris calmly pulled out a megaphone, "PAY ATTENTION!" Isaac and Billy were finally snapped out of their zombie induced stupor and turned to look at Chris. "Thank you! You'll be glad to know that before team assignments or the first challenge, you'll be enjoying a gourmet lunch prepared by Chef in the mess hall," Chris paused to avoid being drowned out in the chorus of groans and complaints before continuing, "The confessional cam is up and running if you feel the need to make use of it before or during lunch. That's all folks, get outta here!" With varying degrees of reluctance, the campers peeled off to approach the mess hall, all too aware of the culinary horrors waiting for them within.


Confessional

Matthew: I have one word to say to the audience; RAGE.

Larry: Why am I still walking? Where's the Cleanster hidden my Segway? So many questions, too much effort to find the answers.

Lauren: Does a camera have an opinion of the events it records? I've always wondered if they're judging me.

Heidi: Guess what, you know that karate guy? Well he's a Marshall Artist! Heidi laughs hysterically, I am just too funny.

Isaac: It's good to get off the mainland, and there are some good recruits here even if I have to put up with weirdoes.

Sandra: Hopefully no one believes Alice is actually a psychic, have you seen how she pretty much failed every time she predicted something. No one should trust such unreliable data.

Everett: I don't have anything to say, I just want to make sure someone else eats before I do in case the food is laced with truth serum or amnesia juice. You can never be too careful.

Billy: in the middle of one of his rants… then the president said, 'sure Honest Billy, you can have the key to Area 51's top secret warehouse…

Wolf: Stares at the camera for several seconds without making a sound before winking.


Chris was alone on the dock once more, an all too familiar sadistic grin on his face as he anticipated the upcoming events. "Will anyone die of food poisoning? Will anyone get there stuff back? How will the teams be decided? Find out all that and more next time on Total Drama OUTRAGE!"