Last time on Total Drama Island, our competitors took it on the chin as they faced an all-you-can-eat buffet of deadly natural disasters. But it was Owen's own feet that tripped him up. Owen's broken jaw means that he can't eat anything 'til it's met the business end of a blender. Yep, it's a rough life for Owen. But, the "Your Owen Worst Enemy" award goes to Leshawna. Better call the fire department, because, liar, liar, Leshawna's pants are seriously on fire. Luckily we had a submarine tank simulator full of water to douse the blaze in a waterlogged event that had all our competitors gasping for air. Sounds tough? Get used to it! Because this week, it's an all-out war! It's a desperate battle to survive Total Drama Action!
The campers were in a serious race to the bathroom, as there were only three stalls and it was one of the only times they were allowed to be alone, with no people, and especially no cameras. Leshawna reached the bathroom first and frowned at the two closed stalls, the last one being occupied.
"Only one toilet is working today?" Beth asked as she reached the bathroom with the rest, panting.
"This crazy bargain-basement TV show doesn't even have a plunger?" Heather asked, annoyed. Well, she was always annoyed, but she was extra annoyed right now.
"And I would be crazy to give up this primo spot!" Leshawna said, looking over at Duncan and moving aside. "Crazy with niceness! Duncan, honey, you take it."
"Nice try," Duncan asked. "But you lied to us, and I never mess with liars."
"Corrine doesn't count," Duncan decided. "You didn't lie, she just didn't tell me."
"You don't mess with mouthwash either, huh?" Leshawna asked, fanning her face. "I got one word for you, stank breath. Winter-mint. Harold, baby. Would you like my spot?"
"Hecks yeah!" He exclaimed, cutting in front of her.
"Figures," Duncan scoffed. "Taking bribes."
"I don't do bribes," He said solemnly.
"Then what's with letting Leshawna suck up to you?" He asked. "As far as I'm concerned, she's off the team."
"Except that the team needs her!" Harold debated, turning to the brown-haired girl. "Thanks for giving me your spot, Leshawna, my valued, if somewhat unworthy, teammate."
He opened the stall door, unknowing that Owen was using it, and screamed.
"Owen, what are you doing here?" Harold asked out after he yelled in shock.
"It's not about what I'm doing," He gritted out, splattering saliva everywhere. "It's about what I'm not doing."
"Pipes a little backed up?" Harold guessed and he nodded.
"Who knew a diet of blended corn beef and cheese puff shakes could stop my whole system?"
"Make way!" Chef yelled, pushing the teens aside. "Coming through!"
"Chef, a little privacy? " Owen asked over his guts bubbling loudly. "I'm trying to poop-a-doop."
"Doctors orders," Chef said, holding out a purple shake. "I've got the cure for your no-can-doo-doo right here."
"That's not even food-esque!" He complained.
"Don't push, kid," He growled out. "They're making me serve you on account of my bad behavior."
"Give it here," Leshawna said, snatching the drink from his hands. "I've been starving half to death since DJ left!"
She chugged it down and Chef shivered.
"Man, she's gonna feel that."
"My, my!" Leshawna said, wiping her mouth. "Who knew bran could be so tasty?"
The challenge that day was war movie-themed, much to Duncan's excitement; the campers were forced into a line as Chris, hearing a stereotypical military helmet, paced in front of them.
"Today, we're all about war movies, so look lively you..."
"Buckets of horse doo-doo!" Chef insulted for Chris, who nodded in appreciation.
"So," He continued. "Get ready for the first death-defying challenge, you..."
"Disgusting, slimy crustaceans!"
"Move it, privates, fall in!"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"I've always wanted to be a marine," Duncan confessed. "They're rough, tough, they wear rad boots, and they say "Hoo-yah!" No clue what that means, but it sounds cool."
"I am so pumped!" Harold told Duncan. "My squad in Battlefront has won ten online multiplayer gaming titles. The secret to our success? Teamwork."
"This is the real world, virtual loser," Duncan insulted. "You wanna win? Sit back and let me get my Marine on. I'm the main course, the rest of you guys are gravy. As in, on the side."
"You won't be saying that when I bust out my deadly numb-yo!" He said, karate-chopping the air. "No longer must we live in fear of ninja attacks. Not when I'm carrying this bad boy."
He pulled out to yo-yos tied together by their strings, swinging them around like nunchucks.
"I feel like I should be offended," Corrine said and Duncan quickly picked up a stick, throwing it at him and tangling up the string. The hard plastic shell of the yo-yo hit Harold in the crotch and he fell to the ground in pain.
"Never mind," She laughed out, walking off with her team.
"Hah!" Duncan and the girls laughed. "Harold just took a numb-yo to the numb-yos!"
"Not funny, Duncan!" He squeaked out.
The teams were taken over to a golf cart and blindfolded so they wouldn't know where they were being driven to, which, after the last challenge, was a lot harder than usual.
"Maybe he's actually gonna kill us this time," Corrine whispered over to Duncan.
"Yeah," He agreed. "Good thing I wrote my will this morning."
Corrine chuckled, lightly shoving him.
"Oh yeah? What did it say? "I leave all my belongings to my scary girlfriend?"
"Scary and hot," Duncan corrected. "Don't forget about hot."
"She is pretty hot," Corrine agreed.
"Well, what would yours say? "I leave my dorky stuffed bunny to the nearest eight-year-old?"
"Nah," She said. "I'd probably give it back to Keyshawn, my first boyfriend."
"He was the one that gave it to you?" Duncan asked, ignoring the pit in his stomach.
"Yeah, we were only fourteen, so he nabbed it from his little sister and gave it to me."
"How sweet," He deadpanned and Corrine laughed again.
The Golf cart stopped and the teens were led into some sort of room before their blindfolds were taken off. As it turned out, they were in a room, on an airplane.
"When it comes to a war movie," Chris shouted over the engine. "Jumping out of an airplane is the most dangerous stunt there is. So naturally, it's our first challenge!"
The teens gasped as Chris opened up a box full of parachutes and opened the plane door.
"If we live," Heather said, turning to her team. "I was thinking it could totally be our team's admiral!"
"Admirals are in charge of sailors!" Beth corrected loudly. "General's are in charge of soldiers, generally!"
"But, admiral sounds cuter!" Lindsay decided. "So now I'd like to be called "Admiral Lindsay, her hotness," okay?"
Justin sat between the two girls, wrapping his arm around their shoulders.
"Beth, Lindsay!" He began. "I want to propose something, but don't get excited, it's not marriage."
The girls watched him, unimpressed and he chuckled awkwardly.
"Uh, any who, it's a long way from the airplane to the ground below!"
"Three kilometres, to be exact," Beth added and Justin shrugged.
"Wouldn't know, math is for ugly people. Here's the deal. I need you two to jump before me in case I need a soft place to land, okay?"
He fluttered his lashes and Lindsay raised an eyebrow at him, still unimpressed.
"Now, you girls know that I don't blink these eyelashes at just anybody! Nothing? When were your last eye exams?"
"Drop zone approaching!" Chris announced. "Form a line, it's time to party! Stunt people undergo weeks of training before they parachute! Luckily, we're gonna skip all that and get to the good part. Jumping!"
"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Harold asked, concerned for good reason.
"What's the worst that could happen?"
"We all die!" Owen exclaimed through clenched teeth.
"I know!" Chris laughed out. "Hilarious! Time to jump!"
"There's only one way off this big 'ol bird! And it's through that door!" Izzy exclaimed, pushing on Owen. "Let's dance! C'mon, it's not that scary!"
"Hello?" Owen asked. "Crazy girl's pushing me off an airplane and I haven't had a parachute lesson yet!"
"That's okay," Chris said, hanging up his phone. "I just spoke to our research department! There were no parachutes in World War I!"
"That can't be right!" Corrine screamed out.
"So what do we do for a challenge?" Heather asked.
"Simple!" Chris said, pushing the box of parachutes out of the plane.
"Woohoo!" Izzy screamed, running to the open door and jumping out of the plane. "Tell my pet rock I love her!"
"You're up next, private no-can-poop!" Chris said, pointing towards the door.
"For the love of everything deep-fried, don't make me do this!"
"If you won't do it for me, maybe you'll do it for a corned ham blendy!" Chris suggested, holding out a squirrel-shaped thermos and tossing it out.
Owen, whose hunger began to take over, jumped out of the plane, which took a sharp turn, taking the other campers with it.
Corrine let out a yelp and closed her eyes, wondering how long until she reached the ground and broke every bone in her suddenly very fragile body. Except, she didn't hit the ground, she hit a soft, squishy mattress about five feet below the plane, which was not flying, but sitting in one of the film lot warehouses.
"We're alive!" Owen exclaimed as Chef turned off the high-powered fan. "It's good to be alive!"
"Let's roll, soldiers!" Chris said cheerily. "Because the second part of this challenge is gonna blow your minds... and everything else within a fifty-foot radius!"
"Are those paint bombs?" Lindsay asked as Chef uncovered various grenades, missiles, and anything else that could explode.
The teens were taken to an open field for the next challenge, each team on the opposite side of the large plot of land.
"We've divided the camp into two halves," Chris explained as Izzy grabbed up the explosives with a crazed grin. "Most creative and controlled splatter wins."
"Talk about a custom challenge made for me!" Duncan exclaimed on the other side of the field. "I'm all over this!"
"Might I suggest you consult your friendly neighborhood chem expert?" Harold said. "Because what is an explosion other than a chemical reaction of trinitrotoluene decomposing at C7-H5-N3-O6-3N2 plus 5H2O plus 7CO?"
"Try speaking in English!" Heather snapped, irritated.
"I think we might have to stick with Duncan, honey," Leshawna said sweetly, patting the scrawny nerd on the back.
"Why?" Harold complained.
"Vandal boy beats big chem nerd. It's a simple equation," Heather decided, before helping Duncan transfer the explosions wherever he wanted.
"Okay minions!" Lindsay said, dressed up in a military coat and hat. "Admiral Lindsay, her hotness is about to show you how this is gonna work. How is this gonna work?"
"We need to lay the explosives in a wide, interlocking pattern. That will ensure maximum paint splatter," Corrine explained and Lindsay nodded excitedly.
"What an excellent plan I came up with! Okay, snap to it, please!"
"I'm way too weak to even think about working," Owen said through clenched teeth, laying on the ground in agony.
"And my butt needs beauty rest," Justin explained from the hammock that had been set up.
Corrine growled and walked up to his hammock, flipping the tanned teen out of it.
"Admiral Lindsay decrees that you will get up and work on this challenge!"
"Is it getting hot out here?" Justin asked, pulling off his shirt to expose his abs. "Now, if you'll notice, I don't sport a six-pack. That's twelve I got. A dozen smokin' abdominals."
"Get to work, lazybones," Beth snapped as she walked away and Corrine chimed in.
"Also, your "twelve-pack" makes you look like you're pregnant with baby aliens."
"This can't be right!" He stuttered out, turning to Lindsay. "Have I really lost my lady-controlling mojo? Say it ain't so!"
"It is so, Justin," Lindsay said in disappointment, grabbing a couple of paint bombs.
"Time's up!' Chris announced, looking at the teens with arms full of paint weapons. "Uh-oh. Looks like you didn't even get started."
"Not so fast, Señor Chris!" Izzy exclaimed and they turned over to see hundreds of explosives plastered on a warehouse and tree house.
"Whoa," Chris said. "Now that's what I call thorough."
"Izzy, what did you do?" Asked Owen as she laughed.
"I didn't do it, Big O," She said, deceptively sweet. "It was my friend, Explosivo."
Her voice changed and her eyes glazed over.
"Explosivo is loco for boom-boom!'' She laughed out loud.
"Gaffers," Chris said as he reached their end of the field, holding up the detonator. "Are you ready?"
"Time for a little punk rock!" Duncan said confidently, pushing the lever and setting off the explosions. The explosives all went off simultaneously, shaking the earth around them and sending splatters of lime green paint all around, creating a skull-shaped pattern.
"And who says vandalism doesn't pay?" Chris asked rhetorically, giving Duncan a high five, before heading off to the Grips.
"As much as it pains me to say this, you did well, Duncan," Harold said and Duncan snorted, pushing him aside.
"Yeah, no kidding. This is my world you're living in, dork boy."
Meanwhile, Chris had returned to the Grips and Izzy, or, Explosivo was raring to blow up everything they could.
"Are we ready to blow it up?" Chris asked and Izzy nodded, pulling on the lever with a cackle.
Except, nothing happened. Chris looked around in confusion from behind the glass wall protecting the teens from paint and turned to one of the hidden cameras.
"Well, folks, looks like we're having some technical diffi-"
Suddenly, the explosion went off; shaking the ground way more intensely than the last explosion and splattering paint everywhere. The glass wall built to protect the teens was destroyed, splattering lime green paint all over them, and there was a large crater where the warehouse full of explosives once sat. Chris glared over at Izzy, who was laughing hysterically.
"Explosivo is one crazy guy, huh?"
The Gaffers and Grips were all led to the middle of the field while Chris was cleaned off by interns. Once he returned, he looked over at the Grips.
"Explosive? Yes. Creative and controlled? Not so much. The Gaffers are victorious!"
The teens cheered and Corrine frowned, kicking the dirt.
"It is my honor to present your prize," Chris said, as Chef wheeled in a red trunk with gold and yellow flowers decorating it, as well as golden wings at the top and two poles that could be used to carry the trunk around.
"The big trunk of mind-blowing secrets! You'll be defending it with your lives during the next challenge!"
The teens were led to another similar lot with a giant field and Chris had the interns set the chest down.
"Contestants," Chris said. "Get ready to begin your next war challenge. It's a giant game of capture the flag! Except, in this case, the flag is the Trunk of Mind-Blowing Secrets! There's only one way to learn what's in the trunk and that's to win the challenge. As a reward, you'll be given immunity from tonight's vote. And... a peek inside, but be ready. The secrets will blow your brain to bits!"
"I need my brain," Harold piped in and Chris laughed maniacally.
"Not to worry," He said. "A roll of tape will be provided so you can tape the grey matter back together."
Chris led the teens over to a large structure covered in tarp, sealed with their green light bulb logo.
"Gaffers," He began. "This is your base camp. Our set decoration team wanted to build you guys a towering castle full of defensive possibilities. But they went out to see a movie instead, so.."
Chef pulled off the sheet, revealing a broken-down shed that had more holes than a piece of swiss cheese.
"We're gonna give you this!" Chris declared. "I think it's a tool shed."
A loud creak interrupted the host and the shed collapsed in on itself, sending dust and wood chips flying everywhere.
"Was a tool shed? Good luck!" He walked off with Chef and Leshanwa huffed, exasperated.
"How are we gonna defend this big 'ol trunk of secrets with no fort?" She asked her team.
"We'll put our heads together and come up with a group plan."
"You do what you want," Duncan scoffed, walking away from the group. "I'm gonna go set up some booby traps."
"He said booby," Harold snickered.
"In World War movies," Harold began, handing out some shovels he had salvaged from the shed. "They always have underground hiding places, Foxholes."
Leshawna grabbed her shovel, grinning.
"If I'm digging," She said. "We're gonna have to call it a Foxy-hole."
Harold turned to Duncan, who was messing around with some netting and lights.
"Duncan," He said. "The rest of us agreed on an actual plan. If you wouldn't mind, we could use a little help."
"If you wouldn't mind," Duncan mocked. "I could use a little of you shutting your useless piehole! I'm busy!"
He stood up from his first trap and stormed off to make another.
"I have had it with Duncan!" Harold confessed. "I've been giving it my all since day one. Then Mister Too-Cool-To-Care suddenly wakes up and everybody falls all over him? He might be standing tall after that first challenge, but the taller the mohawk, the harder it falls."
"Admiral," Beth asked Lindsay as she held the binoculars close to her face. "What's going on?"
"Well," She said, looking over at her teammates. "Duncan sorta like, disappeared; And the rest of them are digging a hole for some weird reason."
"They could be making a Foxhole," Corrine offered but was ignored, much to her growing annoyance.
"I can't wait 'til the teams merge," She confessed.
"Team," Lindsay addressed. "Admiral Lindsay, Her Hotness says it's time we attack!"
"First," Izzy interrupted. "A suggestion from, um, Explosivo. He says we make a Trojan Taco."
"You mean a Trojan Horse?" Corrine corrected and Lindsay held her hand to her chin in thought.
"People," She decided. "Admiral Lindsay, Her Hotness decrees that although Mexican food is very tasty, we will not be making a Trojan Taco."
"Because that doesn't exist," Corrine droned on.
Beth whispered over to an unsure Lindsay, talking through her like a puppet master. Corrine had noticed this a while ago but decided that it wasn't worth the headache.
"We are gonna attack," Lindsay parroted. "So, let's go down there and fight!"
Owen and Justin groaned out, not wanting to work for their win.
"Now listen, peeps!" Lindsay began, trying to say something inspirational that would pump them up. "I know you're frightened, going into battle, but I'm here to say, "Be strong! Be fierce! Be ferocious!" Go and fight for that trunk like it's Boxing Day and you're fighting for the cutest pair of yoga pants! Show. No. Mercy!"
The teens erupted in cheers, fueled by her stupidly wise words, and ran down the hill, attacking the Gaffers.
"I'll be here when you're done!" Lindsay yelled after them and Corrine slowed down, running back up next to Lindsay.
"You said Duncan broke off from the rest of his team, right?' She asked and Lindsay nodded in confirmation.
"Yeah, he disappeared."
"He must be setting up traps of some kind," Corrine thought aloud and Lindsay gasped.
"How do you know?" She asked and Corrine shrugged.
"I just do, I guess." Lindsay let out a giggle and said something she rarely says; she said something smart.
"Maybe it's because you like him!" Lindsay sang out and Corrine scoffed, ignoring the heat in her cheeks.
"Whatever," She began to walk down the hill, far more cautious than her fellow teammates. "Make sure to look out for Duncan. If he's not making traps, then he might be trying to attack us back."
She slowly caught up with her teammates, who were looking around in confusion for their enemies.
"Where are they?" Beth asked. "We just saw them."
"We need to look low," Corrine ordered. "We saw them digging for a reason, they've gotta be underground."
Her teammates nodded, finally listening to the teen, crouching low and keeping their eyes peeled for any sign of a bunker or foxhole. Suddenly, they were alerted by a loud fart, so exaggerated that it sounded like something someone would do with their mouth. Justin turned around and pointed out Harold climbing out of a bunker, gasping for air.
"There they are!" He exclaimed and the teens- minus Corrine- sprinted towards the teens, completely missing the net that Duncan had laid out as a trap. They were quickly caught and pulled up over a tree; they could only watch as Duncan slid down a tree and used his trusty pocket knife to cut the rope holding the net back, sending the teens flying away from the camp and back to their base. Meanwhile. Corrine had climbed up a tree to watch and gather intel on her competitors, wondering what had made them leave their hiding post.
"What's going on in here?" Duncan asked as he entered the bunker, cupping his nose to fend off the smell wafting off Leshawna.
"I'm trying not to puke," Heather complained and Leshawna looked up weakly, opening her mouth.
"Y'all, I really think I might be over it now. I'm feeling much-" She was interrupted by her own body, letting out a loud fart, credited to the bran drinks she had been swiping from Owen.
"I am out!" Heather ground out, climbing out of the bunker.
"It smells like blue cheese in here!" Duncan complained and Leshawna frowned.
"I'm so sorry, guys. I really feel like I've let the team down."
"You think?" Duncan asked rhetorically in a hushed voice before turning to Harold with a glare. "Harold, what have you been doing this whole time?"
"Trying to keep this team together, no thanks to you," He complained. "Or Miss Toxic Emissions here."
"Be mad at Chef," She said weakly. "He made the stupid smoothies!"
"You can't do anything right!" Duncan groaned out, annoyed with his team. He knew for a fact Corrine or Courtney would never let him down like that. "You're an idiot!"
"At least I'm here!" Harold argued back. "At least I'm trying! What kind of lousy Marine leaves his squad all alone?"
Their stare down was interrupted by more farting coming from Leshawna.
"Dude, we gotta get out of here," Duncan decided and Harold crossed his arms, standing firm.
"Not until you admit we're a team."
"Who cares when we're about to die of toxic butt poisoning?" He complained.
"And say you value my contributions," Harold added in right before a loud rumbling began in Leshawna's gut.
"That ominous warning usually means a really bad one is coming," Harold detailed and Duncan looked at him in bewilderment.
"There are worse ones?" Harold nodded and Duncan began to panic, giving in to his demands, well, kind of. "You're not a complete loser, okay? I value the small portion of you that isn't a loser. Can we go now?"
"Anything you want, teamie," Harold said smugly, helping heave Leshawna onto the chest and leave the bunker.
While they evacuated, Corrine returned to her team and filled them in on what the boys had planned,
"Good job, private," Lindsay said. "Take a break. The rest of you, attack!"
The teens nodded and ran back down the hill, attacking the two boys, who were able to send them flat on their asses quickly.
"What can I say?" Duncan said to Harold. "You did good, real good!"
"The team did good," He decided, patting him on the back, making Duncan grimace as Chris walked up to the Gaffers.
"Time's up!" He declared and Corrine groaned as she caught up with the rest of her team. They had only won a couple of challenges, and she was getting fed up with her team's incompetence.
"The Gaffers have defended the chest, putting them in the winners' circle. That means the Grips will be sending home one of their own tonight. And now," He said, unlocking the chest and letting the teens open it.
"It's time to reveal to the winners the mind-blowing secrets within this trunk. Here's what you were fighting for, team"
The boys opened the top to be greeted with an empty chest.
"All this, for what?" Harold asked, devastated.
"An empty trunk!" Duncan growled out, furious.
Night fell quickly and the Grips were led off to the Gilded Chris ceremony, quickly submitting their votes and waiting for Chris to get on with it.
"This one's a nail-biter," He announced, looking at the cards. "I'd say no one's safe tonight. Lindsay, how do you feel?"
"Let's face it, Chris," She pouted, resting her chin on her arm. "It was my lousy Admiraling that cost us the challenge. If I go home tonight, I won't blame anyone. Except Beth."
The girl looked at Lindsay in shock.
"I have to blame someone."
"All right then," Chris continued. "Votes have been tabulated. So, It's time to present the awards. Tonight, the Gilded Chris goes to Corrine, Lindsay, Beth, and Owen."
The teens were thrown their awards and Corrine quickly unwrapped hers, taking a big bite of the milk chocolate.
"And now, only two nominees left. The final award goes to... Justin."
Justin smirked and took his awards, flicking his hair back.
"Por qúe?" She asked sadly and Owen hugged her. She was escorted off the bleachers and Owen let a tear fall.
"I'll miss you, Iz."
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So, I've been thinking about changing the names of the books in this series bc it's very basic. I didn't think it would be as successful as it is now so I gave it a boring name.
Should I change the names?
What should I name them? Leave suggestions.