We were up extremely early. I mean, like 3:00 am early. I'm used to it, though. Hospital can be surprisingly demanding sometimes, especially if you're a famous person, and there's a bunch of obsessive fans waiting outside your ward, just to catch a glance of you.
Once again, I was on airhorn duty. So... I guess I had to tend to that. "Careful, Mani. This'll be loud." I warned the mouse in my pocket. He burrowed slightly further down in response to this, which was normal, considering we usually understood each other.
After a few seconds, I decided it was a good time, and it rang out throughout both trailers, causing both teams to jolt awake in quite a mood. I spoke through the megaphone, trying to not be harsh, but... also be harsh. If you know what I mean.
"All crew on set! Call time is 4:00 am!"
/// Beth ///
"At first, I thought he was talking to the CREW crew, not us. I was really hoping they'd replace Chris the Creep with a nice host this time around. Y'know, one that doesn't force his kid to scream into a megaphone at three in the morning! Is that mean? ...Sorry."
/// End ///
All the girls got out of their trailers first, and every single one was as exhausted as the next. The order went something like this; Gwen, Lindsay, Leshawna, Heather, and Beth. Leshawna, obviously, had something to say about it. "I can't believe I'm doing another season of this show." But, clearly, I had missed someone, because E-Scope jumped and skipped out of the cabin, energetic as ever.
The boys got out last, and the same feeling went for them. They were all exhausted. The order went like this; Owen, Trent, Justin, DJ, Harold, Duncan. Harold, just like Leshawna, had something to complain about, in his own nerdy way. "This continuing, sadistic wake up call is messing with the natural rhythms of my mind clock. My mojo will be destroyed."
I clicked my tongue, and put my hands on my hips. "Yeah, well, I'm not exactly happy about it either. Plus, you're on a film set now, and you're gonna have to learn that show biz is not all red carpets, and pool parties. Today, you're gonna be taught just how tough on-set production life can be."
Gwen raised a brow and spoke, while Heather rolled her eyes at the both of us. "Whatever. I can deal. I once had a summer job at a petting zoo. It's so adorable. Everybody feeding the adorable goats their adorable cabbages. But somebody, i.e. me, had to shovel up the less adorable end of the digestive track." I did not exactly care for that information, but I heard it, nevertheless.
"Speaking of which, it's time to pick your teammates, and then try to stick it to the team your, uh, little boyfriend chooses." I made a quick glance to Trent, who seemed rather upset about that. "I am not little! But... we're not gonna get all competitive and nasty, are we?" He nervously asked Gwen, who shook both her head and her hands. "Absolutely not! We learned from last season, right?"
Everyone got into random lines, which was rather annoying, but it had to be like that, 'cause I obviously wasn't allowed to confront it. "Okay, let's just get this bloodbath of a popularity contest over and done with. You're gonna choose 'schoolyard' style. Boy, girl, boy, girl. Y'know, the pattern that literally nobody likes. Ladies first, and... since we clearly have no ladies here, Gwen. Pick first."
She sighed in uncertainty, before shrugging, and pointing to someone. "I dunno. Duncan?" Trent gasped dramatically, obviously betrayed, while Duncan smirked at Gwen.
/// Trent ///
"I can't believe she just went ahead and chose Duncan! I mean, they're kind of alike. And, now she wants to be on the same team? What am I supposed to make of that?! You think you know a person!"
/// End ///
Duncan approached Gwen, and they both high-fived each other enthusiastically. Trent frowned, before smirking, and pointing towards Lindsay, fairly unnecessarily. "I choose... the beautiful Lindsay!" Lindsay's jaw dropped slightly, before she cheered happily for herself. "Yay!" I raised a brow at Trent, who didn't seem to notice, and was more focused on getting Gwen jealous.
/// Gwen ///
"The... beautiful? What, was Trent trying to tick me off by picking Lindsay like that? Psh. You think you know a person!"
/// End ///
Gwen furrowed her brows, and from that point on, the competitivity was clear to see. I just wish Dad was here so that he could savour this. "Because I like to keep things cool, I pick Leshawna." Leshawna proudly walked up to Gwen, and gave her a high-five as soon as she was done talking. "The girls are back in town!"
Lindsay gasped, and turned to Trent with that expected, dumb grin. "You know what would be so great? If you picked Tyler!" Trent softened his expression for a moment, telling Lindsay the thing she just couldn't see. "Tyler's not in the game anymore." Lindsay frowned, and sighed. "Seriously? Bummer..." Trent face-palmed, before raising a finger. "I choose Justin." Justin proudly walked towards Trent, while I could see his strategy.
Naturally, I made fun of it. "Oh, pft, yeah, pick all the good-looking contestants. That'll really get you far." Trent scowled at me, before explaining smugly. "It will in show biz!" I simply raised a brow, and shook my head. "Mm-hm...!" Gwen growled, and put her hands on her hips. "DJ." DJ smiled, and from then, it was just a rapid fire round. "Beth."
Gwen tapped her lip, and was about to say something, before Leshawna whispered something to her. I couldn't hear it from where I was standing, but my best guess is it was about Heather, cause of what Gwen did. "Fine. We choose Heather." Heather widened her eyes, and turned her head towards Gwen, clearly shocked. "Really?!"
/// Heather ///
"It's about time someone realized who's the most valuable player here. I mean, seriously, people."
/// End ///
I looked at the options Trent had next, and honestly, they weren't really great. There was either Owen, or Harold, since it went boy, girl. He looked in between them, tapping his chin strategically. Owen was doing something gross, I don't even wanna write down, while Harold kicked the air, only to fall backwards.
/// Trent ///
"How do you pick between flakier, and flakiest? I mean, at least Owen got farther in the last game, so I guess that's worth something. Dude, I dunno, I had to pick someone!"
/// End ///
"Uh... I choose... Owen." Owen cheered, and ran towards Trent, giving him a high-five. Although, Trent wasn't too happy with it. He wiped his hand on his shirt, while Harold made, yet another, nerdy comment on his supposed 'wicked skills'. "Uh, hello? Don't wicked skills count for anything? I mean, who else here went to film camp and is fully trained as a junior cinematographer with a thorough knowledge of lighting filters, film stop-"
Gwen interrupted him, thank the stars. "I pick Harold. If for no other reason but to shut him up." Gwen and Leshawna both glared at him, as he approached, smiling. "Wise choice." Gwen raised a brow, and shrugged. "There were no other guys left." Harold's counter argument really was effective, if you ask me. "Still."
I looked around, and saw that only E-Scope remained. I looked over to Trent, who seemed reluctant to let her join him, but didn't exactly have a choice. "Um... I guess Izzy is on my team then. ...Izzy?" She whistled, completely ignoring him. I didn't think to correct Trent, because it was his fault for deadnaming E-Scope. Lindsay whispered the correction to him, to which he responded by sighing. "Oh, right. E-Scope?"
At this, she smiled, quickly waved her hand, and walked over to Trent without a problem. "Here! Haha! Hi." With a sigh, I rubbed my eyes, and spoke up. To be fair, this script was one of the corniest things I've ever read. Too bad I didn't get to read over that. "Gwen, I christen your team, The Screaming Gaffers. Trent, you're the Killer Grips."
Beth frowned, and argued back. "Grip? I- I don't wanna be a Grip!" I scowled, and looked her up and down before speaking. "Oh, well, that's just too bad." Heather scoffed, and looked at her nails. "Psh, puh-lease! It's not like being called a Gaffer is something to brag about. It sounds like something that has rabies."
There was a large crash from off-set. Heather and a few other people flinched, but when I looked over, the camera crew had purposefully broken something. "I'm sick and tired of gettin' no respect around here!" He stormed off angrily. The other one pushed a TV screen onto the ground, smashing it, and followed after the first. I frowned, and quickly turned to face the two teams again.
"Oh, great! Good job, guys! You've just made two of my co-workers quit! Just for that, your challenge is to make a film set, and I, personally, want them to go up there!" I pointed up to the highest point of the artificial cliff. P.S. It was the same height as the one on Camp Wawanakwa, which was 1,000 ft.
Gwen seemed to doubt the difficulty of the challenge. "Oh, please. If you're giving us the challenge, it can't be that hard." "Oh, really? Since you don't think it's hard enough, how about this; I expect you to be up there with all your equipment in an hour, or else there's a penalty for the last team there." Almost immediately, everybody raced off to get their film set tech and other things.
/// Lewis ///
"Just to set the record straight, those two were my favourite interns. Sure, it's one thing making any intern quit, but it's a whole other level making the actual professionals quit! I hope the Grips and Gaffers understand just how unfair this actually is."
/// End ///
They were getting it up the hill, but it was incredibly inefficient. I mean, Harold was dragging and scraping the large lights, and basically everyone was moving them somewhat wrong. This was genuinely frustrating to watch. I mean, I COULD show them... but... I won't. It is kind of entertaining to see them struggle.
I stood up at the top with Chef, although he was busy doing something else, probably to do with technology, or something like that. All I was doing was eavesdropping to find something to use against someone.
"What are you doing with him?!" Trent yelled at Gwen, 'cause she fell back, and Duncan caught her. She raised a brow, and spoke in confusion. "Uh... we're on the same team?" Trent frowned, and tried to take a step forward, but his foot got caught in the cable, and he fell forward. Lindsay rushed over, and helped him up, much to his satisfaction. "And, we're on the same team."
Gwen frowned as the two of them ran off. Heather, who was pulling up a cart of props, bumped into Duncan, which made her release her grip on it, and it slid down the hill. She scowled, and turned to him and Gwen. "People! This is crazy inefficient! I say we organize relay style, and pass the equipment up." Gwen frowned, and walked off with Duncan. "If you say it, we're not doing it."
Heather argued against it. "But it's a good idea!" Harold approached Heather, and spoke sarcastically, which is something I hadn't heard from him before. "I'm totally with you. Write down all your good ideas, and we can bring them up at the next team meeting. I'll second you. Cool?" Heather glared at Harold, and walked past him to retrieve the cart of props. "Go jump in a lake, trout lips."
Trent was running up the hill, and he was speaking to the necklace Gwen gave to him. "C'mon, lucky necklace. Papa Trent needs you!" E-Scope caught up with him, and laughed at him. "Wow, and I thought I was crazy. You're talking to jewellery?" Trent frowned, and scolded her, before running forward. "You are crazy. I'm just trying to help our team win this thing." E-Scope shouted after him, and tried to catch up, but got distracted mocking him. "Hey! That's what I'm trying to do, too! If you've got some lucky earrings, I'd be glad to have a little chat with them, huh?"
I spoke into the megaphone, mocking them ever so slightly. "It's neck and neck, people! And now, it's time for the heavy stuff!" Trent raised a brow as he was the last to get to the bottom of the hill, where every other player was standing. "Heavy stu- what?! How the heck are we gonna get these trailers all the way up the hill?!" "Figure it out!" Lindsay thought for a moment, before speaking up excitedly. "I have an idea!"
/// Lindsay ///
"It's so great to be free from Heather. I can totally contribute more and stuff! I have a lot of unwrapped potential, you know."
/// End ///
"Let's get Tyler to do it!" I groaned, and put a hand to my face. Beth, E-Scope and Trent all scolded Lindsay for the second time, the annoyance very clear in their voices. "He's not here anymore!" Lindsay realized again, and nervously put a hand on his arm. "Oh, right! Bummer."
Out of nowhere, Trent spoke up, and pointed at Owen. "Owen! There's catering at the top of the hill. Just take that trailer up there with you, and you can eat." "Eat? I love eat!" Owen clasped his hands together, and used, like, his belt, or something to tie the trailer to him, or whatever. I dunno, I wasn't really paying attention.
By the time I was paying attention, he was jogging up the hill while E-Scope was riding him like a cowboy. "Yeehaw! Go, Owen! Run around!" Trent smirked, and shouted back down to Gwen and Duncan, very, very smugly. "Hey! New best friends, how do you like that? You gonna cry together, you punk wannabes? 'Cause... your team is going down!"
At this, Duncan and Gwen stopped ignoring Trent. Leshawna, Harold and Heather all gasped, while Duncan spoke first. "Uh, not cool? Not cool at all." "Oh, don't worry. We are taking Trent- I mean, that team down!" She put her hands on her hips, and raised a brow, smirking at DJ. He immediately picked up the hint.
"Oh, no. Don't expect me to... What if the trailer slips, and rolls back down the hill, and chops someone's arm off? What then? I couldn't hand bein' responsible for that!" I faltered for a second, before deciding to just put a stop to that thought before anything else. "Hey. I'd rather you didn't say that."
/// Lewis ///
"I'm proud to say that I've scared Duncan. That's an achievement, in my books."
/// End ///
/// Duncan ///
"I did not get scared. I was just... surprised! What can I say? The dude appears outta nowhere, and acts like it's nothing!"
/// End ///
I'm not just here to talk, so... I guess the commercial break is in order. "Looks like the Screaming Gaffers still have a chance. Will DJ step up to the plate, and save the day?" He shouted at me from off-screen, which wasn't exactly in character for him. "I said no!" I glared at him for a second, before continuing. "Find out after the break to see if DJ rises to the call of duty." He literally jumped in front of the camera. "I'm not gonna do it."
*
I was back up at the top of the mountain, and honestly, I was just relaxing. Dad made his 'debut' off-screen somewhere, which he wouldn't stop talking about. Y'know, just giving himself a bigger ego than he's already got. Normal Chris McLean stuff. "Welcome back to Total Drama Action. We're in the middle of some pretty wild action, right now!"
I watched as Owen continued to move up the mountain, but he seemed to be struggling. Beth was being a cheerleader, which, let's be honest, would never work out in the real world. "Owen, Owen, he's our guy! If he can't do it... uh... h-he's not our guy!" Prime example of why it wouldn't work.
"Hey, Dad, how much time do we have left for these guys to get their stuff up here?" I turned my head to him, while he checked his watch. "Uh... twenty minutes." He noticed the camera, and switched to his 'host' persona. "There's still time for DJ to step up, and be the hero for the Gaffers!"
Harold was cheering for DJ, but nobody was doing the same, so it just sounded kind of awkward. "Do it, DJ! Do it, DJ!" DJ angrily folded his arms, and turned up his nose in defiance. "How many times do I have to say no?!"
Owen, to basically nobody's surprise, made it up first. he hit the ground with a grunt, while the Killer Grips cheered happily for him. "We actually won!" I raised a brow, and approached the team with Dad. He seemed to be keen on explaining things. "Well, not exactly." "...Pardon?" "Well, that was only the first part of the challenge. Also, the penalty, thanks to Lewis. Did we neglect to mention that?"
"Wait, but we won! Why do we get the penalty!?" Trent questioned, which really, was fair, but seeing the condition Owen was in, I think it was fair to give them a penalty. I explained it for them. "Well, you get a penalty, because Owen revealed a little too much of himself on television, and the other team get a penalty because they lost."
*
The other team weren't allowed to take their trailers up, because they were taking way too long. That meant we could finally start. "It's time to make a movie. Grips, what we've got here is the set for a tearjerker; starring an elderly lady considering her long, long life." Trent rolled his eyes, and made a snarky comment. "Boring!"
Harold sighed loudly, and complained. "I can't believe we don't have a trailer." Heather, on the other hand, was busy bossing everyone around and being a snarky little cow. "We are so not going to be able to properly apply makeup without vanity lighting. This could spell disaster. Thanks, DJ!" Well, they weren't really gonna need it, cause... y'know.
"Gaffers? You'll be making a feature about a thug who tries to go straight, but can't resist the lure of the street. Considering your options... I don't think you'll need makeup." I mean, it was obvious they'd choose Duncan. The girls didn't have any experience with crime, Harold would be too dramatic and go off-script, and DJ just didn't have the heart for it.
Heather, obviously, had to complain about legalities and laws that we were breaking. "Hey, what about lunch? We have been working for eight hours, and you are legally obligated by union rules to give us a meal break!" I blinked, processing this information. "Uh, no, you haven't? You've been up for two hours. Even if you had been working that long, who here is in the union?" I asked, looking around. Nobody raised their hands. "Yeah. I thought so."
/// Heather ///
"I am hereby forming Local Why Not United Workers Against Chris and Lewis. LWNUWACAL for short. ...How about we shorten that to UWAL? Who's with me? Everybody?"
/// End ///
"And now, it's time to choose an actor to perform a scene. Chef, give the teams their scenes." Chef gladly took Dad's order, and shoved both envelopes into their according teams. Trent checked his, and looked at his teammates. "Alright. We need an old lady." E-Scope did not hesitate. "Oh, please, let me do it! It's gotta be me! I've got an old soul. I'm, like, 87 years old on the inside, because I've been reincarnated, like, a bunch of times. Actually, I'm the reincarnation of my very own Granny Mavis!"
She suddenly turned on this really, super strong Scottish accent. I would've believed her if I didn't know she was somewhat crazy. "Aye there, laddie! You spilled a wee bit-a haggis on yer kilt! And I can tell ya, all the lots are risin' up to the claw!" The rest of her teammates were growing pretty impatient with her. To be honest, so was I. "Okay, fine!"
Gwen checked her envelope, to see the name of the main character. "Big Lucky Parmesano?" "A tough guy?" Heather raised a brow, and looked towards Duncan. Leshawna and Gwen did the same, to see he was carving a skull into a piece of wood with his pocket knife. Honestly, I couldn't care. It's not my set he's destroying. Duncan turned around to see everyone looking at him. "What?"
Gwen walked towards him, and explained. "You have got to play the gangster!" "Hey, hey! Don't typecast me, I don't even know if I can act." Heather signalled to Harold behind him, who was just standing there, without any emotion. "You want Harold to do it? He's as tough as butter." Chef seemed pretty relaxed leaning up against the Grips' set. "Don't expect DJ to be a tough guy! That's for sure."
Okay, something was clearly going on. There was no way he'd just target DJ for, like, no reason. DJ, however, immediately got upset over it. "How can you say that?" I groaned, and watched as his lip quivered. I'm not having crying on live television. It's only the third episode, and I had much larger expectations. "He obviously doesn't mean it, dude. He's just trying to wind you up." I put a hand on DJ's shoulder, which sorta made him feel better, but I was more suspicious of Chef, than anything.
*
Gwen was busy trying to convince Duncan to act, while Dad was speaking through the megaphone. "Alright, set up the shot! Whoever can get Chef, Mr. Ex-Army Corporal, to show any emotion, wins the challenge." I turned my head to see him rather unenthusiastic. I didn't expect much either, to be fair. I mean, he did lose 100 soldiers in 20 minutes once. Not a thing was felt.
*
Lindsay was doing E-Scope's makeup, while she was looking over the script. "Your makeup? Gorgeous! And now, I'm gonna make you really feel like an old lady!" Lindsay forced her down again, which caused her back to crack. E-Scope wasn't too enthusiastic. "I feel like 80 years have passed already since they've started to adjust the lighting!"
Beth whispered, as if the lighting was gonna be disturbed. "Don't move." "Oh, don't worry, I can't. My legs are totally asleep!" Owen raised his voice, so that E-Scope could hear him. "Could I get that last line again?" E-Scope forcefully took the microphone from Justin, and spoke loudly into it, causing Owen to scream from how loud it was. "MY LEGS ARE ASLEEP!"
*
"Oh- Guys, this set is a mess of wires and cables! You really need to sort this out. Use black tape, or something, but do something about it." I advised, looking around at the backstage of the Gaffers' set. Heather scoffed, and folded her arms. "I don't recall asking for your opinion." "And I don't recall asking for yours. Sort this out, or don't, but you'll pay for it."
Duncan, though, didn't seem to even want to look at the script. To be fair, I don't like looking at scripts either. "1. I can't memorize this much, and 2. These lines are way outta left field." I couldn't just, like... not give him advice. "Well, whenever I think my dad's scripts are dumb, I just make-" Heather cut me off. "Just say what's written, and quit being such a prima donna! Oh, and Lewis, stop helping him. He doesn't need you to hold his hand the entire time."
"And I'm not! I'm just giving him advice!"
"And he's not! He's just giving me advice!"
/// Duncan ///
"If Heather thinks I need someone's hand to hold on set, she's got it all wrong! Especially if that someone is a kid, like, three years younger than me."
/// End ///
/// Lewis ///
"Seriously, it's not Duncan that's the problem on set. It's Heather. I've come across a few people like that, and oh, I can name them!" I paused for a second, before turning my head to the crew off-screen. "Can I name them? Or... is that not legal? ...Oh, okay. I guess I can't name them."
/// End ///
To my surprise, Leshawna agreed with her. "We all have a job to do." "So, you just stand there, and look pretty. Okay? Pretty boy?" Heather mocked him and poked him, but Duncan wasn't having that. He swiped her hand away, and scowled. "Don't-! ...Call me pretty. The last guy who called me pretty ended up looking a lot less pretty. Get it?"
Dad was having the time of his life watching this go down. "Friction between the crew, and talent. I love it! It's like a real film set!" I mean, technically that's contradicting, since we are filming a TV show on a real set, but... I'm gonna ignore it.
"Should we do something? I mean, Duncan has got a weapon..." I made a quick gesture to the pocket knife. Although, Dad was not concerned at all. "Nah. He won't do anything when you're around."
Well, that's... comforting.
Gwen approached Duncan, and reassured him with a smile. "You are not pretty. Okay, Duncan? You're hot. Okay? You look hot! Sexy! Stud-like." "That's better." I raised a brow, and spoke under my breath. "Oof... that's gotta hurt." Dad, on the other hand, was now grumbling to himself, walking away. "I can't believe they settled that so fast! Sometimes, this business really stinks."
*
"Uh... Liam, you're good at TV stuff, right?" Lindsay questioned, as I perked up, and turned my head to her. "Um, I guess? What's up?" She pointed to a box full of gaffer tape. "There's seven colours on this tape roll thingy, but I don't know which one to use. And... what kind of a shape would a mark be? Like, an M, for mark, or-"
I quickly cut her off, laughing to myself. "No, no, haha! The tape's used for other stuff. Black's for securing equipment, white's for reflecting any light in a shot, red's to mark where an actor should be, and the blue and green is... well, not important for what you're doing. So, use the red." I pointed to the red tape, as she picked it up, smiling dumbly, as she normally does. "Oh, thanks, Liam!"
Our conversation was cut short when E-Scope complained again. "Ugh... my legs are starting to tingle. I don't think I can hold much..." She then collapsed, much to my concern. I rushed over, and helped her up, as she finished off her sentence. "...longer..." Beth, though, was busy making a big deal out of nothing. "Aw, we had the lighting just right!" "Get back to first positions!" I frowned, and sat E-Scope down on the couch. "Guys. It's been, like, forever. Can't you just get the ball rolling, and let E-Scope have a break after this?"
*
E-Scope, luckily, was a 'fast recovery' case, so I didn't stick around for long. I was rotating in between both sets, to make sure nothing was going too wrong. When I heard Heather screaming, I have to say, I was reluctant to check it out. Although... if she was getting angry... that could be some form of entertainment. So, in the end, I did check it out.
"Help! I am gonna need a little help here, people!" I peered my head around the corner, before walking out fully. It was hard to decide whether it was a disappointment, or hilarious. She was tied up by her leg, 'cause it got caught in some wires. "Hey, Heather, 'member when I told you to use some black tape? This is why." "Ugh! Just, shut up, and help me down!"
I rolled my eyes as Harold came onto the scene. "I'll help you down, m'lady!" He pushed the stage light back up, and Heather fell to the ground. She panted for a few seconds, clearly disturbed, before standing back up. "Heather~? Don't you have something to say to Harold?" I teased, to which she responded by scowling. After a few seconds, she sighed, and spoke through gritted teeth. "Thank you." "Anything for m'lady!"
/// Harold ///
"I've been working on my courting skills." He proudly put his hands on his hips. "Yup! I've mastered girl whispering."
/// End ///
/// Heather ///
"As annoying as hanging around Harold would be, he'll made an easy-to-persuade alliance member. And, right now, 'milady' needs all the help she can get, especially with that stupid kid on my case. For the record, he wasn't flirting! He was just teasing me. Jerk."
/// End ///
Dad was reminding everyone of the stage they should be up to at this point, while I was busy semi-judging the makeup job DJ was doing. But he seemed quite... unusual. "This light is just appalling! How am I supposed to work without a proper trailer, and lighting?!" I gasped at this, covering both Manitoba and Mabel's ears, since I had been handed his while he was working.
"DJ!" He realized his mistake, and softened his tone. "I- I mean... could you tilt that pretty chin up, just a smidge?" He was referring to Duncan, but I was still surprised at his previous tone. "That's enough!" Chef yelled, and he forcefully pulled him away from both me and Duncan. I tried not to eavesdrop, but the curiosity got the better of me. I shifted just an inch closer, so I could hear what they were talking about.
"What? My mama always told me I had a flair for applying her church makeup, so I figured-" DJ tried to explain, but Chef was having none of it. "We've gotta toughen you up, you big ol' marshmallow!"
/// Chef Hatchet ///
"I've gotta admit. I see a bit of myself in DJ. But, I had to develop the macho in myself without somebody like me helping. This is gonna be fun."
/// End ///
"Here's the deal." I narrowed my eyes, and listened closer, the suspicion growing still. "I'll help you man up, and win this thing. You don't ask any stupid questions, and you split the prize with me. Like they say, it's an offer you can't refuse. I won't let you." Almost instantly, I gasped, and shuffled away.
/// Lewis ///
"So, that's what he's been up to?! An- an illegal alliance?! Oh, Dad won't be happy... but, then again... is it ever a good idea to tell on Chef?"
/// End ///
I sighed in a slight amount of concern. Although, that was replaced with astonishment as I approached the Grips' set. E-Scope's costume was... convincing, to say the least. "E-Scope, uh... you don't... you don't look like you. Good job, Lindsay!" "Thanks! I worked, like, super hard on it." E-Scope was busy acting like her Granny Mavis. She put on a Scottish accent, and got in both of our faces.
"Aye, lassies! That's on account of me bein' a master thespian!" I looked away in slight discomfort at being called a 'lassie', but brushed it off quickly. "Just make sure you lose the Scottish burb. Okay, Granny McE-Scope?" Trent told E-Scope, as she nodded enthusiastically. I got off their set, as Dad announced that it was time for them to start filming, ready or not.
I sat back one of the chairs, and watched both sets. First came the Gaffers. "When I was a young schoolgirl in Poline, frolicking through my fields with my pet goat in the summer sun, those were my happiest days." I kept my composed expression, while my two dads freaked out. "Did you check the envelopes before you labelled them?" "I thought... you checked 'em?" It seemed to click in their heads that either none of them did, or I did, for they both erupted in childish snickers.
I continued to watch, as my focus turned to the Grips. "Now, you listen, and you listen good. If your fighter doesn't go down in the first round, you'll be sleepin' with the fishes! And, uh... that's tough to do, because... you know, they have no eyelids, and it's hard to sleep! Hey, I can flip my eyelids! Anyone wanna see me flip them!?" I blinked, slightly concerned, while Trent mumbled a few words to himself. I could see that Duncan's act was coming to a close, so I switched my gaze back to him.
"I've lived a good, long life! I've loved, I've laughed, but what I miss most of all... is my sweet little goat! Shopa! Oh, baa... baa..." Duncan shed literal tears. For some reason, that didn't move me at all. For an even more confusing reason, Chef was incredibly moved by this. He literally started crying with Duncan, Heather, and Leshawna. Hell, even my dad started crying.
"C-C-Cut! Okay, enough! It's too much for Chef to take! Duncan clearly wins for best performance! Screaming Gaffers win it!" E-Scope wasn't too happy about it. She slammed her headpiece down onto the ground, and still spoke in her Scottish accent, despite losing her temper. "Ay, ay, oh! I was robbed! Yeah, I'll see you in the morgue, capiché!?"
DJ only went over to Chef to mock him. "And... you're gonna teach me to be a tough guy?" I had to give him points for snickering. Like, in his face. Chef wasn't taking it well, though. He pulled DJ up to his face by his shirt, and even intimidated him by lifting him in the air. "Tough guys cry! And, did you notice how your team just won?! Who was the judge, DJ?! Huh?! Who!?"
*
Okay... another elimination ceremony, another stupid suit, another public embarrassment.
"Okay. You can totally do this." I muttered to myself, taking a deep breath in my dressing room. I mean, sure, my family accepted the fact I wasn't a real boy, but still, I deserved some kind of privacy. With a sigh, I put on the suit, and walked out to the stage to join Dad.
"And now, it's your turn to cast your votes, and determine who will stroll down the Walk of Shame." Beth, Owen and E-Scope all gasped as they looked at the Lame-o-sine. Not that intimidating, if I'm being honest. It had bull horns and everything on it. Like, it was the complete opposite of lame. "Under your seats, you'll find voting devices. Just press the button of the person you want voted off. It's easy. So, cast your votes. Who will it be? Who will be cast off the set?"
The classic drumroll, silence, and then the loud printing of the paper.
I'm gonna have to get used to that.
Chef handed Dad the paper, at his personal request. "And it looks like all the votes have been cast. Remember. If you get a Gilded Chris, you get to stay, because, rather suitably, the Gilded Chris represents the lustre of fame, and immortal greatness. And... the Gilded Chrises go to... Trent. Owen. And... Beth."
Owen ate the statue, foil and all. "Mm... Foil covered chocolate!" My face scrunched up in disgust, slightly annoyed at how he could just eat, basically, metal, without feeling sick, in any way, shape, or form.
"And now, only three nominees left. And, the loser is..."
Cue for dramatic music...
"Izzy! Time to go!" E-Scope folded her arms, pouted, and turned up her nose. "I'm not going anywhere. That's not my name." Dad frowned, and raised a brow at me. I shrugged, and whispered. "She likes to be called Kaleidoscope. E-Scope, for short." He scowled with impatience, before yelling to Chef. "Can I get a pen over here?!"
He scribbled down on the paper, before exclaiming, still angry. "It says 'E-Scope' now, okay?!" E-Scope stood up, still pouting, before walking forward, towards the red carpet. "And remember. You can never come back, ever!" He pressed an orange button on his podium twice, which is something I hadn't recognized before. "Take her to the Lame-o-sine." Two interns approached, and began to drag her towards the Lame-o-sine.
They threw her in the car, as she grunted. Not a second later, she stuck her head out of a window on the roof of the car. "This was just a dress rehearsal, my darlings! Ha-ha. Mwah! Mwah!" The car began to drive off, but, oh no, she wasn't finished. "You'll see my star on the Walk of Fame. Mark my words. MARK THEM!"
*
After that whole ceremony was done with, I was sitting in the camera room, re-reviewing the footage from today with Dad. I rolled my eyes, and glanced up to Dad. "You know she'll be back, right?" "I know. I'll deal with it when it happens." Seeing as that wasn't my responsibility, I set off. "Well, I'm gonna go to that crappy motel tonight. I'll be back tomorrow, though."
"Hold on. Are you sure? It's not the safest place in the city..." He spoke, a slight hint of concern in his voice. "Psh! I'll be fiiine! Don't worry. I've got my phone, and if anything happens, I'm literally ten minutes away!" He pouted, and looked away. "I don't want to hear that you've been taken by some pervert. Got it?" I laughed gently. "Sure. I'll make sure it's just a creep. But seriously, I'll be careful. I promise."