Chapter Text
“Oh my golly gee, this place is huge—you could build a circus in here…or two!”
The infamous Scary Girl skipped and giggled as her voice echoed throughout the empty arena. The soles of her feet left a trail on the gravelly ground, and as she eyed the hundreds of empty seats that surrounded her, she did a little twirl. “I can’t believe they let us rent this place!”
Topher, who dusted off the dirt from his freshly-pressed polo shirt, couldn’t help but smile. He walked in her trail and spoke as she admired the scenery. “Well, what can I say? This is Total Drama we’re dealing with—and thanks to you and your Reboot buddies, everyone’s got our eye on us. More eyes, means more money,” The wannabe host said.
“Hey, speaking of money, you pick a charity yet? My lawyer won’t stop calling me about it.” He turned to the pale girl, who nearly rotated her head 180 degrees. His eyes widened as her double-jointed body twisted towards him.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, Christopher—the Circus Animal Rehabilitation Center was super-duper happy to join us.” She giggled and clapped her hands as she spoke. “Now all those poor elephants and baby seals can finally be happy again, with our help!”
“Nice. Now that’s how you do a PR move!” Topher smiled, but at the mention of the two-letter abbreviation, Lauren glared at him. His heart race as he backed off, and he raised his hands in defense. “W-what? It was a compliment!”
“Christopher, those little animals need our help.” She slowly walked towards him, and Topher felt a chill run down his spine. “If we don’t give their caretakers the money to give them a good life, who will? Actually, I have an answer to that question…”
Lauren put a finger on his chest, and if his heart pounded any quicker, he would have gone into cardiac arrest. “...you will give them the money they need. Or else—”
“ –Okay, okay!” Topher leapt backwards and took a quick breath. “Jeez, Lauren, I’m just saying it’s gonna make the tournament even more appealing! And if it’s more appealing…we get more eyes! More eyes, and more money. Okay?”
Lauren’s mood brightened in a split-second. “Okay!” She giggled. “You know, you look really cute when you’re all scared and shook up.”
Topher’s confidence shot back up. “Of course I do! Even in the face of death, I’m still photogenic.” He smirked and snapped a finger at her. “But please don’t hit on me. You’re eighteen and I’m almost twenty-six, and that’s not good for the cameras.”
Lauren giggled again, as if to solidify their generation gap. “I understand.” For once, the Scary Girl respected personal boundaries. “Besides, I’ll be super busy talking about the blood and guts and violence and pain! Especially the pain.”
She did happy little hops as she could hardly contain herself, and Topher nervously chuckled. “Yeah. Good thing that sells, too.”
Just as they finished that little chat, Topher’s phone rang. When he saw who was on the other end, he picked it out of his coat pocket and put it on speaker. “Hey, before you say anything, we’re on location. What’s the update?”
“Well, I’m at Owen’s place,” A familiar, snarky voice said. “And once he’s done taking a dump, he’ll be on the way. By the way, your convicts are en route.”
“Oooh!” Lauren clapped her hands. “The punk and the mad genius. I call dibs on the second one!”
Topher gave Lauren a skeptical look, and though they didn’t see it, their associate on the other end of the call was just as confused. “Dibs? What you mean, dibs?” The guy asked.
“Oh, I mean…dibs on talking to them, silly! I want to meet the girl who almost killed Chris McLean!” Once more, she hopped in place, like a little child who had a little too much sugar. “Maybe just an itty-bitty interview, mhm?”
“Duly noted.” He sent a polite smile her way. “And thanks again, Noah. Lemme know about the others, alright, bud?”
“I am not your buddy.”
With that, Noah hung up, and Topher saw a rare sight—Lauren with a thinking face. “Hmm, Noah’s no fun. But I bet it’d be really fun to scare him…” A sinister grin grew on her face, and Topher couldn’t help but chuckle as he remembered a past season of Total Drama.
“Oh, man. If you can get that on camera, that would be fantastic.” He put a hand on her shoulder as he spoke. “But now that you mention it, maybe one of our contestants can give you some pointers…”
Somewhere far away from the arena, a lone armored van rolled down the Canadian countryside, and within its confines were a few guards and two convicts in orange jumpsuits. One of them was a man with scruffy, unkempt black hair, and the other was a spectacled red-head, though notably, she was strapped to the seat and muzzled like a dog.
“Don’t you think this is kinda ironic?” The man asked her, and the guards paid them no mind. “We get into prison because of Total Drama, and now we’re getting out because of Total Drama.”
She side-eyed him. “For you, prison was an inevitability, regardless of the circ*mstances on that show. For me, it is a mere stepping stone.”
“Stepping stone? To what, the electric chair?”
That got a few chuckles from the guards, but when she side-eyed them, they silenced themselves.
“A stepping stone to a career where my intelligence is valued; I have been recommended a transfer to the U.S. as a criminal profiler for the FBI.” Despite the leather muzzle, her words were as clear as crystal. “In simpler terms, I assist in cracking the code of the criminal underworld.”
“Yeah,” He said. “Takes one to know one, right?”
“Precisely so, Duncan.” She nodded. “But what of you? What have you made of your life thus far, hm?”
Duncan’s unibrow wrinkled. “God, you sound like my old parole officer.”
Scarlett scowled through her spectacles. “Answer the question.”
“What if I don’t?” He leaned forward, and the guards lowered their hands to their batons. He looked her straight in the eye, and she did the same.
“Then you will have no one to confide in. Tell me, when we return to the outside world, will anyone be waiting for you?”
Duncan brought his cuffed wrists closer to her face, but the chains that connected to his legs put a stop to his aggressive advance. “Don’t f*cking remind me.”
“Then answer the question,” She insisted. “Distractions are the quickest way to forget.”
Duncan leaned back, and his chains and cuffs no longer strained his skin. He tilted his head and looked to the ground as he explained himself. “I’ve been working out. Physically and mentally. I got a side hustle going on in Cell Block B—protection.”
“Mafia style?” Scarlett’s mind was teased.
“No,” He said. “I’m a bodyguard. No frills, no bullsh*t.”
With that, the mad genius was stimulated. “You never struck me as a protective type…unless, perhaps, this is your own kind of penance?”
Duncan exhaled. “You could say that.”
Scarlett smiled underneath her muzzle. “Fascinating.”
“Hey, look who just entered the building!”
Topher, who dealt with a small army of reporters at the lobby of the arena, gasped and pointed to the entrance. Their eyes, which were already widened from Topher’s sudden public re-appearance, would have popped out of their sockets if it didn’t kill them—as a familiar fat boy in white strolled through the double doors.
“Hi guys!” He waved at the crowd of reporters, and they waved back as they approached him. The paparazzi among them took as many photos as they could, for Owen had grown a manly beard that matched his ever-spiky blonde hairdo.
Speaking of familiar faces, the long-headed Noah appeared behind him, and he extended a stern palm towards the encroaching press. “Hey, hey, back up, people! Give the guy some space!” Notably, he was dressed in a black coat, and everyone was reminded of his days as Chris McLean’s personal assistant.
While the two were ambushed with a flurry of inane questions, Topher looked on in satisfaction. This guy was the face of Total Drama—so much so that his sudden appearance in Total Drama Rematch boosted the ratings worldwide—and to have him take part in their competition ensured that many eyes went their way.
“This is great!”
“Gah!” Topher jumped back as Lauren appeared from thin air. “Wow, you actually got me there.”
She smiled at him and snickered. “C’mon, now, Christopher—I wasn’t even trying. Anyways, I juuust want to remind your silly little head that our official press conference starts in ten minutes.”
“Mhm,” Topher nodded. “Why else would these guys be swarming the place?” He gestured to the reporters, who hounded the big guy and his little friend with a rapid-fire barrage of questions. “God, they’re like a bunch of vultures.”
Lauren narrowed her gaze. “What’s wrong with vultures?”
“Uh—nothing!” He panicked a little as her anger showed. “Seriously, no offense to them, I was just making an analogy, you know.”
In a flash, the Scary Girl was bubbly again. “Okie-dokie!”
Topher wiped the sweat off his brow. “On another note, Lauren, you got any word on the others?”
“Oh, yes, yes—they’re all on the way.” She clapped excitedly. “I think one of them should be coming riiiight…now!”
Just as she predicted it, another reality TV star arrived—particularly, with his plus-one. His unusually tall plus-one.
“Blimey!” Jasmine gasped, and that one word distracted some of the press, who hovered towards her. “Oi, bugger off, we’ve travelled a long way and we want a bit of space, alright?”
“What she said!” Shawn yelped out as they avoided the crowd. Crowds were his nightmare, as they reminded him of the undead hordes, and Jasmine’s long limbs helped in fending them off. They clutched their bags hard as they managed to slip by the paparazzi, and eventually, they ended up right in front of the two hosts.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Topher greeted them with open arms. “The survivalist couple of the century—how’re you guys holding up?”
“We’re alright, I reckon.” Jasmine adjusted the collar of her jacket. “I mean, I’m not a fan of the Canadian cold, but Shawn’s been a big help with adjusting to the climate.”
“No way, you actually settled in?” Topher gasped. “That’s great!”
Then, just as the small talk became even smaller, Noah let out a loud whistle, and his whiny voice filled the air. “Alright, people—all press reporters, follow me. The conference for Total Drama Celebrity Deathmatch will begin in five minutes.”
Like a shepherd in a sea of sheep, Noah guided the press away from the big guy, who was left to his own devices. “Phew! Finally,” Owen sighed as he walked up to the others. “Those guys were asking about everything! Like, even about my mom’s old cheese cellar.” He snort-laughed, and that lightened the mood for the Total Drama alumni.
“What happened to the cheese?”
Everyone, even Lauren, somehow, jumped back in shock as the next contestant arrived from thin air. They all let out a simultaneous yelp before they realized just who had scared them—it was none other than the original wild-child of Total Drama, Izzy. She looked just as she was ten years ago, though instead of a revealing bra and sarong, she wore a green bomber jacket and a pair of loose, flowy pants to match—or did they? She always had a peculiar sense of fashion, after all.
“Izzy!” Owen immediately hugged her, and she welcomed him back with a strong squeeze.
“Big O!” As she smiled and felt his huge body, her smile vanished. “Hey, wait a minute—you worked out!”
“Huh?” Shawn asked. “What do you mean?”
“Ohh! Haha, I thought you guys knew…” Owen stepped back and pulled off his shirt, and everyone watched in astonishment.
As it turned out, that same shirt he wore all those years ago held a secret—where his flab used to be, there was empty space to hide a solidly built body of chubby muscle—not quite ripped, but not quite unhealthy either, like a strongman who lifted so much that he just had to eat a buffet’s worth of calories to refuel himself. If his massive, slightly squishy muscles weren’t already striking, the five giant scars down his midsection were.
“Bloody hell, you fought a bear?!” Jasmine put her hands on her head, and Lauren let out a silent ‘ooh’ as everyone else reacted.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Izzy pouted. “We could’ve kicked its’ ass!”
“But why would you even fight a bear?” Shawn scratched his head under his beanie. “Did you camp on its territory or something?”
Owen didn’t want another barrage of questions to be thrown his way, so he answered all of them in one attempt. “Look, when I went to Japan on vacation, I kinda…got roped into something. I mean—I was in Osaka, right, just enjoyin’ all the food, living it up, and after I drank with some cool guys in suits, I kinda had to…save them.”
Topher whispered in Lauren’s ear. “Did you know about this?”
“Mayyybe…” She whispered back with the littlest of giggles, and while Topher realized the scope of her stalking skills, Izzy gasped as she realized something. “Wait…guys in suits?”
“Yeah, guys in suits. They spoke really good English, actually, they were really cool! Anyways, so we got out of this late-night bar, right, and suddenly, this biker gang shows up! I couldn’t really make heads or tails of what they were shouting about, but I guess it was really serious, ‘cause they had weapons and stuff!”
Owen’s captive audience gasped, and Lauren raised her hand. “Ooh! Ooh! What kind of weapons?”
“Doesn’t matter!” Izzy snapped at her, and though Lauren eyed her with malice, she was unfazed. “What happened with the biker gang?”
“Right, right, so…long story short, I get into a brawl with ‘em, right? I get all beat up and stuff, but you know what? Apparently, I’m really good at tossing people around! Hehe.” He chuckled as he remembered something. “Oh! And I also kinda used their bikes as weapons. Now that scared ‘em off.”
“So…what does that have to do with brown bears?” Shawn prodded.
“Hang on, dude, I’m getting there.” He scratched his beard as he continued. “So, I beat the crap out of those biker guys, right, and one of the suit guys gives me a business card. He told me to call their number, and the next thing I know, I’m invited to a friggin’ combat competition! I think it was called…King of Metal Hand or something.” He shrugged. “Anyways, I said yes, ‘cause why not, right? Well, that and I was kind of expected to enter, ‘cause apparently you cannot turn down those invitations—but anyways, I went to the mountains, and I trained and ate like crazy—and guess what I fight in the first round? A friggin’ bear!”
“For the record,” Topher said. “We are not gonna allow that to happen. Seriously. We’re donating to an animal rehab place!”
“Wait wait wait,” Izzy interrupted. “Did you win?”
“Yup!” Owen stood triumphantly as he grinned. “But then this totally jacked grandpa kicked my nuts, and I was done.” He slumped a little, then he shrugged. “But whatever! That tournament was fun…and I bet this one’s gonna be just as good!”
Jasmine blinked and eyed Shawn. Shawn looked at her back and shrugged. “Well, at least you got some experience with this kinda thing. I’m…really nervous, for some reason.” The zombie-slayer rubbed the back of his neck, but Owen gasped.
“What?! Dude, you literally beat the crap out of those Chris-bots back on Pahkitew Island—with your bare hands! I mean, tearing up robots is way harder than fighting, like, actual people. Especially if the robots are evil, which, they were.”
Jasmine smiled as Shawn’s confidence came back to him. “Gah, what am I saying? You’re right! And I have been training for, like, the past ten years…you never know when the apocalypse is gonna come.” Shawn cracked his knuckles as his lover chimed in.
“Yeah…he’s been real busy in his spare time,” She said, and suddenly, a loud alarm blared from one of their phones. Each of them panicked and checked their pockets, but Topher turned off his alarm immediately.
“Okay, that’s our signal, Lauren—press time!”
“Yay! So many questions, so many answers…and so many bloody matches to come!” She skipped towards the conference hall and sang a childish tune as the older contestants looked at her funny. Topher shrugged and followed her along, and before they knew it, the two were faced with hundreds of microphones, all of which were strapped at the end of a table.
As they sat down on-stage, the press died down and listened closely. Amidst the silence, Noah confirmed that they were being recorded on-camera, and as the cameraman’s red light turned on, Topher cleared his throat and made his speech.
“You may be wondering what all the buzz is about—suddenly, all of the Total Drama contestants from Island to Rematch are being seen in public, more often than usual, and more importantly, they’re all en-route to this very arena. The truth is, this arena is going to be the setting…”
He paused, and all of the reporters leaned forward.
“...of a brand new season.”
Suddenly, all of the reporters spoke over each other and asked incoherent questions, and Lauren slammed a fist onto the microphone-strapped table. “Quiet!”
They did as they were told, and Topher sent her a thumbs-up. “As I was saying…this is a brand-new season, the likes of which we have never seen before! Why? Well, here’s the first clue…not everyone is gonna participate in it. So, sorry, Total Drama tabloids, this is not a super-All-Stars season. More importantly, this is not really a season in the traditional sense. No more marshmallows. No more challenges. There is only one thing our contestants have to do…”
Suddenly, behind the hosts, the curtains parted, and it revealed a screen which showed a giant tournament bracket.
“...they have to fight!”
The crowd of reporters gasped and gawked and snapped photos of the giant bracket—there were twenty contestants who agreed to fight, and though they caught glances at the faces on the bracket, the curtains closed once more.
“That’s right!” Lauren took control of the microphones, and Topher scooted aside. “They gotta fight, fight, fight! And they can use all kinds of styles—boxing, wrestling, kung-fu, karate, whatever they want! As long as they can make their enemy say uncle, or better yet, if they can knock them out, they win! And—”
“ –Is Chris McLean a part of this season?” A reporter interrupted.
“Of course not! He’s in the Bahamas with Chef,” Lauren said and rolled her eyes, and they took notes from that. “And as I was saying, the winner gets a prize of one million dollars! Oh! And also, we are accepting side-bets, so get your wallets out…’cause our sponsors will match the profits to donate to the Circus Animal Rehabilitation Center! Or CARC, as some silly billies would say.” She giggled for a second before she continued.
“So, to make a really really long story really really short, some of your favorite Total Drama contestants are back! And they’re gonna fight! For money! For charity! For violence! And also, for honor, in this year’s…”
She paused as Noah pressed a button, and the curtains parted once more to reveal a never-before seen logo—it was the emblem of the season. Topher and Lauren stood up and shouted in unison;
“Total Drama: Celebrity Deathmatch!”
