Chapter Text
Camp Wawanakwa: a dilapidated children’s summer camp in Lake Muskoka, Ontario surrounded by water for as far as the eye can see. A world away from everything you know. Here, everything is quiet. The only sounds are those of the wildlife that call this island home, the creaking of decrepit buildings lost to time, and stirring waters against a decaying wooden dock. It should be uninhabitable. But it is.
In the center of it all is a man in his late twenties. His sleek black hair reeks of dripping hair gel, and his obviously poor attempt at growing a beard leaves only the shadow of stubble. His aura screams of smugness radiating off of him. If you look deep enough into his dark eyes, you’d see nothing but an empty void. The dozens of cameras around him know this all too well.
The man begins his performance with a fake smile. It’s a shallow mask, but an effective one, as he projects his voice. “Yo! We’re comin’ at you live from Camp Wawanakwa! Somewhere in Muskoka, Ontario! I’m your host, Chris McLean. Dropping Season One of the hottest new reality show on television, right now!”
Chris moves across the dock like it's a stage, continuing his explanation. “Here’s the deal. Twenty-eight campers have signed up to spend eight weeks here at this crummy old summer camp. They’ll compete in challenges against each other, then have to face the judgment of their fellow campers.”
The delight in Chris’s face at the slightest mention of embarrassing his contestants is genuine. His clarifications are lively, yet laced with a worrisome level of excitement.
“Every three days, one team will either win a reward, or watch one of their team members walk down the Dock of Shame, take a ride on the loser boat, and leave Total Drama Island for good!”
The host moves himself, and his explanations, to the fire pit. Here, the only places to sit are on fallen tree trunks, and the grass nearby is dead. The atmosphere is undeniably tense, even during the day.
“Their fates will be decided here at the dramatic campfire ceremony, where each week, all but one camper will receive a marshmallow.”
The host pulls out a marshmallow and squeezes it a couple of times.
“In the end, only one will be left standing and will be rewarded with cheesy tabloid fame and a small fortune.” Chris holds up both a tabloid of himself and a small treasure chest to the cameras. “Let’s face it. They’ll probably blow it in a week.”
Amused by his own impromptu joke, the host with the most tosses his props to the side.
“To survive, they’ll have to battle black flies,” Chris gleefully illustrates by cutting to a swarm of flies buzzing loudly for all to hear.
“Grizzly bears.” The cameras pan out, turning their focus to a bear, standing tall and foreboding on his hind legs, angrily swatting at the flying pests.
“Disgusting camp food.” Inside a bowl in the cafetaria, a grub lies with a smile. If the grub talking in a French accent is a practical joke by their peers or real is something for the show’s editors to deduce later.
“And, each other,” Chris finishes with a sinister smile. “Every moment will be caught on one of the hundreds of cameras situated all over the camp.”
A few of these cameras can be found in a bird's nest, watching a mother bird feed her baby chicks, or even taped to a totem pole.
“Who will crumble under the pressure? Find out here, right now, on… Total! DRAMA! ISLAND!!!”
Yes, every contestant here will face obstacles, hardships, and turmoil unlike anything they have experienced before. And one decision could be the difference between going home a loser, or walking away a million dollars richer.
Only one question remains: which are you?
A champion?
A contender?
A game changer?
A legend?
Or the guy who couldn’t make the million dollar decisions when it mattered.
…
…
…
Good luck.
You’ll need it.
So… I guess this is how I’m spending my summer.
A week ago, your biggest concern was surviving your finals. Now, be it for the money, the fame, or even just the experience, here you are, ready to spend the rest of your vacation battling it out for a hundred grand. There could be worse ways to spend your time.
For now? You’re just enjoying your last few moments of freedom, before your right to privacy becomes utterly nonexistent for the foreseeable future.
“You ready for this?”
Turning around, you come face to face with a girl just about your age, give or take. She’s got a red baseball cap with a small scarf around her neck. The red intern uniform hangs off her like a dress, barely obscuring her denim short shorts. Tess, you believe her name was. She’s been nice enough.
You smirk, putting on a brave face. You think of it like practice. “I'd better be. The island’s on the horizon.”
“Try and keep a firm head on your shoulders, okay? You wouldn’t want to be the first person eliminated, would you?”
“I can play it cool. I know not to screw up a first impression, Tess.”
“If you say so,” Tess shrugs, keeping an eye on the fast-approaching island. “At least you did well to remember my name. Phil and I have a running bet on how many of you actually recall them.”
“You winning it?”
“Considering Phil’s been forgetting the contestants’ names way more than they’ve been forgetting his?”
“Well, congrats then.”
“Thanks, Zeph. If that’s your real name.”
“It is,” you affirm. “That is what’s on the application forms, at least.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Tess giggles, the ship slightly vaulting to the left as she loses focus. “I should probably get back to driving, huh?”
“If you don’t want a man overboard, yeah. I’d rather not swim the rest of the way.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t have to. The sharks would devour you before then.”
You’d of laughed, if her tone at all indicated she was joking.
“What does that mean?” you interrogate.
“Don’t worry about it. Just stay safe and don’t come off as a douche."
You would press further, but you’re close enough to Camp Wawankwa that you can make out figures on the dock. “Thanks.”
You look down at your reflection on the water’s surface.
Seems fine enough to me. Not like I’d have time to fix it anyway.
As you approach, you overhear the prior contestant’s intro. It’s a girl. Her complexion is on the darker side. Her hair is nearly the same shade. She wears a black dress underneath a beige jacket.
“It is my pleasure to introduce… Connie!”
“Hi!” Her smile is bright; maybe the most sincere she could muster. “Interesting place you got here. You’ve got a really mean sense of humor, Chris.”
“Yeah, so I’ve been told,” he sleazily grins.
“Oh well, I came to play a game, not get a tan,” Connie responds before turning to the other campers. You don’t know their names yet, but you don’t need names to know most seem bored or peeved out of their minds. “Hello, everyone! I’m looking forward to getting to know you.”
Heather, a girl with black hair and Asian features that scream ice queen, sneers at Connie. “And I’m looking forward to wiping the floor with you.”
“Whoa. And I thought I was competitive.”
“Just ignore her,” another girl, Gwen, says. She has hair dyed with shades of blue and turquoise, and her skin is paler than what should be naturally possible.
Either that’s make-up, she really doesn’t get out much.
“What was that, Gothie?” Heather taunts.
Chris clears his throat as it's time for you to arrive.
“Zeph! My man! Good to see you!”
“Zeph? Wow, I think I named one of my DND characters that once,” Noah, an Indian-Canadian bookworm, snarks.
Don’t blow it.
Everyone always said you had a firm handshake, and by Chris’ reaction, this is no exception.
“I gotta agree with that last girl who arrived. Are you sure this isn’t cruel and unnecessary punishment?”
“For what?” the host quips.
“Signing up.”
“What a crime,” a boy with a green mohawk and piercings rolls his eyes. “Sheltered little four eyes thinks he’s all cool with that leather jacket. Why don’t you spend a day in juvie and tell me how this compares? I’ll be waiting; I’ve got time.”
I was just trying to be funny! What do you mean there’s a guy here with prison experience?!
“Give him a break, Duncan.”
You turn around to find the source of the voice.
It’s a punk rock girl with a pink highlight in her hair. She’s wearing a tank top with the decal of a heart-shaped skull and a pair of form-fitting jeans.
“Nina?” Duncan scoffs. “Never mind, I’d rather be back in juvie.”
“Wow, way to make your little sis feel loved,” Nina sarcastically pouts. “Whatever; I hope you go home first, too.”
“You let siblings join?!” Heather protests. “How is that fair?!”
“Fair is what I say it is,” Chris explains.
“Just give it a rest,” Leshawna, large and in charge, crosses her arms. “I mean, it’s not like they’re the only pre-existing relationship on this island.”
That explains the two clones fawning over that guy over there. It’s like they’re here for the boys more than they are for the money. What am I? Chopped liver?
At least he doesn’t seem to mind the attention.
“Anyway, Nina, dudette!” Chris sends her finger guns.
“Look at me like you do blondie over there, Chris, and you’re dead,” Nina threatens the host. “We clear?”
“Clear as crystal.”
Given the opportunity, you bring your luggage over to the pile with the rest of the contestants’ stuff, just in time for another person to arrive at the dock.
Chris clears his throat. “Next is... Daniel!”
A guy steps off the boat. Unlike the others, he seems to make Chris visibly nervous. Daniel stands nearly a foot taller than the host and is built like a tank. If you saw him crossing the street, you’d assume he was in his early twenties. Chris gulps, scared, as the guy takes in his surroundings.
“…"
“…”
“So am I supposed to look at the cameras or –”
You see Chris sigh in relief. “Uh, no.”
See? At least I didn’t mess it up that badly.
Daniel shrugs. “Well, it’s nice to meet y’all.”
Daniel throws his luggage into the pile as Connie raises an eyebrow.
“You’re 16?”
“Oh. I get that question a lot,” he responds to her, saying nothing more.
That doesn’t answer the question!
As that is happening, another new face arrives. Her hair is a dark red. So dark it’s unclear if it’s natural or hair dye. Her complexion is dark, but that only brought out the brightness of her eyes.
“Oh, uh, hello!” she shyly let out. “My name's Kyra. This, uh, seems really cool. And I could really use the money. And a boyfriend. Did I say boyfriend? I meant girlfriends. Wait, that came out wrong. Ugh, you're messing this up, Kyra!”
“Is she talking to herself?” Nina asks.
“Oh, I like, do that all the time!” Lindsay, a pretty blonde girl with a bandanna, admits.
Chris shushes her. “Let her go on; the audience wants to see messy.”
Kyra pulls out post-it notes from her jean jacket. "You can just edit these parts out, right? That shouldn't be too difficult."
Try Not to Laugh challenge… impossible.
“How did someone fumble worse than me?” Daniel retorts.
Seriously. Part of me has to wonder if it’s on purpose to lower our guards.
“Hey, I got an award for that last year! It was my shining achievement!” Tyler, a boy in a red tracksuit, loudly proclaims as if it is something to be proud of.
“Good for you, man,” Geoff, whose most recognizable features are his cowboy hat and six-pack, genuinely congratulates Tyler.
…
If this is my competition, just hand me the check already.
The boy who comes off last is Hispanic, with a blue-collar shirt barely hiding a six-pack, black pants, cowboy boots, and a bull’s necklace. His hair is light brown, almost gray, spiked up in the front, and he’s got a goatee. He gives the literal model, Justin, a run for his money.
“José, my man, what’s up? Good to have you here, man,” Chris greets the next contestant.
“Buenos días, Chris,” José comments with a smile. “I’m doing pretty well. Happy to be here and to meet everyone.”
José winks at Nina and the other girls.
“Especially the ladies.”
Nina looks like she’s about to growl at José, but she holds her tongue. Connie seems pretty unbothered as well. Yet the surfer girl, Bridgette, seems head over heels for him. So does Leshawna and the big guy, Owen, surprisingly. Heather, on the other hand…
“Drop dead, you goof,” Heather snarks back.
As José takes his place on the dock, Justin bumps his shoulder into José. “Sorry,” the model apologizes without meaning a word of it.
This will be fun to watch.
“First things first.” Chris gathers all of the attention to himself again. “We need a group photo for the promos. Everyone on the end of the dock!”
The request is reasonable enough, so you follow your fellow campers. You stand at the edge of the group with Daniel, posing in front of the Camp Wawamawka sign.
Chris jumps on the bow of the boat that delivered Daniel to take the picture. “Okay!”
You smirk as wide as humanly possible, on the far end of the dock, just barely in frame.
“One, two, three….”
You watch as Chris attempts to take a photo. Emphasis on the word attempt. A half-hearted snap resonates from the camera.
“Oops! Okay, forgot the lens cap!”
You breathe through your nose, ready for the real deal this time.
“Okay, hold that pose. One, two-. Oh, no, wait, the card's full. Hang on.”
Third time better be the charm, or I swear -
“Come on, man. My face is starting to freeze,” Leshawna protests.
“Got it! Okay, everyone. Say ‘Wawanakwa!’”
“Wawanakwa!”
As the flash goes off, you feel the ground beneath you shake. You lose your balance, falling backward onto the dock as the pier collapses, dropping most of your fellow contestants into the water. The only ‘survivors’ are you, Kyra, Daniel, and Connie. Guess you were just lucky.
“Okay, guys. Dry off and meet at the campfire pit in ten!” Chris orders before he walks away with a chuckle.
Pulling yourself back to your feet, you immediately move to the edge of the cracked wooden boards to survey the damage. The only saving grace is that it seems everyone here knows how to swim, even if they’re waterlogged.
“Damn, this is a mess,” Daniel comments.
“Can you help me?” Connie requests. “They’re gonna freeze in there.”
“I’ll go get some towels. Stay here and help them out.”
“I-I’ll lend Daniel a hand,” Kyra suggests.
“Wait!” Connie begs. “Where are the towels?!”
“Yeah, do you even know where they are?” You back Connie up.
“Nope,” Kyra shrugs. “Good luck getting them out, though. You two got this!”
Connie throws her hands up. “Seriously?”
Unfortunately, they’re long gone, failing to acknowledge you.
“I don’t think they heard you,” you state the obvious.
“No, I don’t think they did,” she sighs.
“A little help, please.” Lindsay, soaked, pleads with you from the water.
You kneel down, giving Lindsay a hand, who smiles at you in appreciation, before you look at Connie. “They’re not going to get out of the drink on their own.”
“Right, sorry,” Connie shakes her head. “Guess we got our first challenge of the season.”
“Whoever gets more people out of the lake gets immunity?”
“No, they win the show,” she jokes.
“And right now, I’m beating you.”
“Well, I can’t have that now, can I?”
And that’s how it turns into a competition between the two of you. At least, for those who didn’t just swim to shore on their own.
Connie wins. But that totally isn’t foreshadowing anything.
Daniel and Kyra bring back the towels just in time for everyone you rescue to not freeze their butts off in the wind. After another five minutes, everyone is dry and gathers at the campfire as instructed.
“This is Camp Wawanakwa, your home for the next eight weeks,” Chris explains. “The campers sitting around you will be your cabin mates, your competition, and maybe even your friends. The camper who manages to stay on Total Drama Island the longest without getting voted off will win $100,000! Ya dig?”
“Excuse me?” Duncan asks with way too much attitude. “What will the sleeping arrangements be? Because I'd like to request a bunk under her.”
The delinquent points his finger at Connie. Obviously, she’s more uncomfortable than flattered.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Connie reacts.
“He is,” Nina reveals, giddy to embarrass her brother. “Duncan prefers the top bunk; take it from his old bunkmate. I had to beg him to let me have the top, considering he wet the bed until -”
“Shut it, Nina,” Duncan grumbles.
Duncan, for once, is tongue-tied; if only because his sister is the worst wingwoman you could ask for. But it was enough to bring a small victorious smile to Nina’s face, at least. Some of the other girls, like Kyra, seem to enjoy it just as much.
“They're not co-ed, are they?” Heather interrupts.
“No. Girls get one side of each cabin, and dudes get the other,” Chris clarifies.
You’re sure the girls are mentally thanking him.
“Excuse me, Kyle?” Lindsay solicits. “Can I have a cabin with a lake view since I'm the prettiest?”
Did she really just say that? I mean, she’s not wrong, but -
“Okay, you are. But that's not really how it works here,” the host’s grin dissipates for a moment, “and it's Chris.”
At least someone agrees with me.
“I have to live with Sadie, or I'll die.” Katie, a skinny girl in pink shorts and a white and black striped shirt, says. She gestures to her ‘identical twin,’ Sadie.
“And I'll break out in hives. It's true,” Sadie affirmed.
Who wants to bet Chris breaks up the two drama queens just for saying that? Me? Myself? I?
“This cannot be happening.” Gwen groans.
“Aww, come on, guys! It'll be fun. It's like a big sleepover!” Owen, a BIG guy with blonde hair, tries to improve the mood.
“At least you don't have to sleep next to him,” Tyler points out to Gwen.
Honestly, you’re not sure whether he was talking about Owen or Duncan. The latter is giving a deer a noogie. Neither answer is preferable.
Where’d the dude even get a deer anyway? Do I even wanna know?
“Here's the deal,” Chris calls out. “We're gonna split you into two teams. If I call your name, go stand over there to the right. Gwen, Trent, Heather, Cody, Lindsay, Beth, Katie, Owen, Leshawna, Justin, Noah, Daniel, Nina, and… Zeph. You are officially known as... the Screaming Gophers from this moment on!”
Chris hands Owen the Gopher’s team flag, with an insignia that doesn’t even look like a Gopher. “Yeah! I'm a Gopher! Woooo!” Owen cheers.
Realization dawns on Katie’s face, the taller and skinnier of the two twins. “Wait! What about Sadie?”
“The rest of you, over here. Geoff, Bridgette, Connie, DJ, Tyler, Izzy, Courtney, Ezekiel, Duncan, Kyra, Eva, José, Harold, and… Sadie. Move, move, move, move!”
“But Katie's a Gopher! I have to be a Gopher!” Sadie insists.
Sorry, “me”, looks like “I” just won twenty bucks.
Courtney, with brown hair and a gray polo, puts a reassuring hand on Sadie’s shoulder. “Sadie, is it? Come on, it'll be okay.”
“This is so unfair! I miss you, Katie!”
“I miss you too!” Katie squeals.
“Please, Señorita,” José implores. “Your team is waiting for you.”
Suddenly, Sadie seems to stop missing Katie, lost in the Latino’s eyes as he drags her toward the red mat.
Please, for the love of all that’s chocolatey, let there be a double elimination. If this is how they act being on separate teams, I don’t wanna know what happens when one goes home tonight.
Despite your complaining, it seems Courtney and José’s words are enough to appease Sadie… at least in getting Sadie to follow them.
And with the separation of the best friends, Chris is able to continue. “You guys will officially be known as... the Killer Bass!”
“That's awesome! It's like... amazing!” Harold, a ginger-head with glasses, shows muted enthusiasm.
“All right, campers, you and your team will be on camera in all public areas during this competition,” Chris reminds you.
[CONFESSIONAL]
CHRIS:
You will also be able to share your innermost thoughts on tape with video diaries anytime you want. Let the audience at home know what you're really thinking. Or, just get something off your chest!
GWEN:
“Um, okay... so far, this sucks.”
LINDSAY:
The girl is facing the opposite direction of the camera, completely confused. “Um... I don't get it. Where's the camera guy?”
OWEN:
“Hey, everyone, check this out. I have something very important to say.“ Insert Fart Joke Here.
[END CONFESSIONAL]
“Alright, any questions? “ Chris looks around at the campers expectantly.
Doesn’t look like it.
“Cool. Gophers, you're in the east cabin. Bass, you're in the west.”
Taking that as their cue, most campers take their luggage and head off to their respective cabins.
You linger for a moment longer before following the guitarist, Trent. As you do, you take a breather to quickly appraise the teams unpacking around you.
Hmm… it’s not like I know anyone here yet, but these seem to be pretty even teams. The Bass might have peaks like Duncan and Eva, but their valleys, like Sadie and Ezekiel, don’t strike me as being super capable.
As for the Gophers, it seems what the Bass mostly has in brawn, we make up for with brainpower... well, besides maybe Lindsay. But we got consistency. I’m not seeing any obvious weak links. Even Katie seems more competent than Sadie at first glance. Still, this better not come down to a literal battle royale.
I can’t exactly judge a book by its cover, though. Everyone here might just prove me wrong if I’m not careful. It's best not to rely on assumptions like that in the future.
You’re interrupted from your thoughts as Cody lands at your feet. Seems the girls tossed him out of their cabin. While normally you’d help the kid, you’d rather not paint a target on your back, and he did just piss off the girls on your team. You’d rather not have Leshawna’s glare directed towards you, too.
“Sorry, dude, but you kinda brought it on yourself,” you halfheartedly admit.
Unlike you, Connie lingers behind to help him to his feet. “Are you okay?”
Cody tries talking, but can’t because of the grass in his mouth. He gives Connie a thumbs-up instead.
That’s interesting. Guess she really does care.
As you approach the cabins, you see Lindsay come out of the girls’ side. “Where are the outlets? I have to plug in my straightening iron.”
“There are some in the communal bathrooms just across the way,” Chris spells out.
“Communal bathrooms? But I'm not Catholic.”
“Not Communion, Communal. “
Gwen walks past Lindsay, taking a seat on the stairs. “It means we shower together. Idiot. “
Lindsay looks like she could cry. “Aww, no! C'mon!”
“She doesn’t mean literally!” Connie assures, trying to defuse the situation.
Presumably, separate cabins mean separate restrooms. It would likely create issues otherwise.
As you and Trent walk up the stairs, Owen swings his arm over your shoulder.
“I'm glad we're in our own cabin with just guys. Know what I mean?” he giggles.
Whatever Owen finds funny about this, none of the guys in your cabin seems to get the joke.
“I mean- no! I didn't mean it like that! I love chicks! I just don't wanna sleep near them.”
Owen’s shoulders slouch as Trent and Noah depart inside the cabin. You can’t exactly blame them, though.
“Not helping your point, big guy,” Daniel bluntly tells him.
As Owen retreats back into the cabin to avoid the awkwardness, you catch the tail end of Geoff’s conversation with Chris.
“Excuse me, Chris? Is there a chaperone of any kind in this facility?”
Asking that on day one? Gotta wonder what Geoff’s priorities are. Besides, who needs chaperones when you're on camera 24/7? The judgment of your peers and the risk of airing your dirty laundry to the world are incentive enough to stay in line.
“You're all 16 years old, as old as a counselor in training at a regular summer camp. So other than myself, you'll be unsupervised. Starting now, you've got half an hour to unpack and meet me back at the main lodge!”
“Nice!”
Well, I'd better get to it then -
“AHHHHH!!!”
You turn your head towards the girls’ side of the cabin, from where the blood-curdling scream came from. You, alongside a few other campers, can’t help your curiosity, sticking your head through the door.
“Oh man, that white girl can scream!” Leshawna comments.
Lindsay is on a stool, standing on her tippy toes. “What is it?! Kill it, kill it!”
Kill what?
To answer that question: it’s a cockroach. A rather big one.
Surprisingly, DJ, of all people, a brick house of a guy even taller and with bigger muscles than Daniel, jumps onto one of the beds in fear, cracking it in half under his weight, the top bunk falling on the other.
“That was my bed,” Gwen groans in defeat.
“And mine,” Nina crosses her arms, clearly peeved.
“Could be worse,” you console. “So… who tops?”
Gwen and Nina look at each other before simply responding with a mutual piercing glare, directed at you.
And I thought Leshawna was intimidating.
As everyone else begins to panic, you begin being used as a human shield for DJ and the girls. “Get away, get away, get away! Bad roach! Bad roach!” Connie cries, clearly regretting her choice to check out the commotion.
That’s when you see Duncan walk into the room with an axe.
“Help me!” the cockroach squeals, seeing the weapon of mass destruction.
Your eyes widen. “Did it just -”
The axe meets its mark, cleaving the cockroach in two.
“Talk?”
Please tell me I was just hearing things?
“You’re not just hearing things,” Kyra shakes in place, absolutely stunned.
What are you, a psychic?!
The sides of Kyra’s lips curl upwards. “No, I just have really good intuition.”
“Well, that’s one way to kill a cockroach," Gwen compliments, impressed.
“Awesome,” Harold agrees.
“Wait,” Connie’s eyes narrow at Duncan in confusion. “Where did you get that axe from?”
“Chris’s private collection.” Duncan points behind him towards a small cabin, before snarkily winking at Connie. “Changed your mind about wanting to bunk next to me? I can save you from those big, nasty roaches.”
“I –” Connie blinks. “Use my right to remain silent.”
“Fair enough.”
Lindsay comes over to you. “That’s the second time you’ve saved me. Thank you!”
“You’re, uh, we -”
“If you ever see one of those again, just let me know, 'kay? Cause, you know, I can do that too,” Tyler interrupts, puffing up his chest, boastful.
Duncan rolls his eyes, elbowing you as Tyler swoops in to steal the credit. “Did you forget, dweeb? Girls like that? They always go for the jocks.”
Lindsay glances between you and Tyler, confused. But, feeling you’ve procrastinated long enough, you make your way over to the guys’ side to unpack.
As you enter the cabin, you notice nobody has yet to unpack their bags. Doesn’t seem like anyone’s even claimed a bed either.
Trent smiles in relief as he notices you in the doorway. “Hey, Zeph, we’ve been waiting for you.”
“Yeah. We thought we should wait for everyone before deciding on the bunk situation.”
“Why’s that?”
That’s when you notice Owen, in the corner of your eye, shaking nervously. The bed underneath him is shaking too. Luckily, it seems he’s claimed a bottom bunk already, though it’s contrary to what Cody said. It draws you to a simple conclusion.
Ah. Nobody wants to sleep near him. Poor guy.
“Who wants to bunk with me?” Owen asks. Most of the others take the slightest of steps back, except for Daniel.
[CONFESSIONAL]
Zeph:
So the way I see it, nobody here is willing to take initiative, meaning I’ve got my pick of the crop. Being bunkmates with someone gives me a really good opportunity to build favor with them. And then there’s Owen. Sure, it’s pretty obviously the right thing to do socially, but do I REALLY want to be woken up by a stink bomb for the next 8 weeks? I could also just… take the single?
DECISION POINT: Pick Your Bunkmate
A) Bunk With Nobody
B) Cody
C) Daniel
D) Justin
E) Noah
F) Owen
G) Trent
Shoutout to cinnamon-stars for their Total Drama Boy Creator and Girl Creator for Zeph and Kyra's art.