I'm noticing that the more I write, the more "count-the-references" games I end up playing with my readers. :)
Oh well, regardless, this little gem of an idea came to me not very long ago. The popularity of these reality TV shows has gotten huge in the United States since CBS got ahold of the idea, and Survivor is the biggest one, stealing the #1 slot in the ratings every week.
A quick rundown: Survivor is a gameshow that's been on in a few different countries and has just recently made its way to the US. In it, sixteen people are stranded in some deserted exotic locale with nothing but a few supplies and their wits to help them survive. Every three days, the people get togther as a tribe and vote a member off, and whoever's left gets a million bucks. And along the way there are tons of different challenges for voting immunity, food, supplies, etc. These include everything from mundane physical activities to eating live bugs.
If you've never seen the show... well... it's entertaining in a train wreck kind of way. It gets quite addictive too.
Oh well, enough babble. You don't need to have seen the show to get *any* of this. Read. Enjoy. Scratch your head at the subreferences. :)
(A modest boat is sailing about half a mile offshore of a small, seemingly deserted island. A smug-looking man, the host of Survivor, begins speaking.)
Jeff Probst: Hello, television viewers. I'm Jeff Probst, and I love myself. (He turns to face another camera.) Not five minutes ago, this boat was literally hopping with activity, as a group of men and women, all of them celebrities, were pushed off into the ocean, left to survive on a deserted island off the coast of some poor third world nation no one's ever heard of. One by one, they will be voted off… or eaten by large snakes, who knows. The prize at stake for the sole survivor? A lifetime of positive media exposure and the greatest spin doctors in the world on their side. And plastic surgery. (He faces another camera.) This… is CELEBRITY SURVIVOR.
(A tacky rip-off of an African chant begins playing in the background, as the host introduces the celebrities involved in the show. A video of each celebrity, recorded prior to the island drop-off, plays as he speaks.)
Probst: Hailing from several clinics all over the United States, notable drunk and former Airwolf star, Jan-Michael Vincent!
Vincent (holding a bottle in his hand and slurring his speech): What the fuck are you staring at? (He belches.)
Probst: Known for her gold-digging love affairs and her extraordinarily magnificent and boobtacular knockers, former playmate Anna Nicole Smith!
Smith (She appears confused speaking into the camera.): Huh? "Celebrity Sur-what"? (To the cameraman) Hey, are you rich?
Probst: Before we go onto our next celebrity contestant, how about another look at her breasts! (There is some muffled conversation as a producer explains to Probst that they won't do that.) Assholes. Ahem. Next, you may recognize survivor number three from his extensive work in ruining his own franchise for years to come, George Lucas!
Lucas: I just want to say that this is for the kids. I'm doing this for the kids!
Probst: Survivor number four hails from sunny Hollywood, where she enjoys running away from automobile accidents: Halle Berry! (A producer runs up to Probst and whispers in his ear.) Ladies and gentlemen, I apologize, but it seems Ms. Berry backed out at the last minute and neglected to inform my cue-card holder. She is currently in Los Angeles picking up litter off the side of the street. In her place, we have Oscar-winning actress and wife to a woman-beater, Angelina Jolie!
Jolie: This is pretty cool shit, ya know? It's so cool that it's not cool, you know what I'm talking about? Jamie, are you watching? I love you, Jamie! We can screw when I get back home, 'kay?
Probst: Aw, isn't that cute? Next up is another Oscar winner in addition to being a full-time dirty old man, Michael Douglas!
Douglas: So exactly how many women are there going to be here?
Probst: We're also pleased to introduce you to jailbait singing sensation, Britney Spears!
Spears: Like… ohmygod. Like… like… tee hee hee!
Probst: Nice rack, kid! Speaking of jail, here's a man who's quite familiar with the inside of one… it's Robert Downey, Jr.!
Downey: So, this counts for my sentence, right? You're not gonna cuff me when I get back on American soil, right? Answer me! Goddamn, I need a joint.
Probst: And finally, fresh from the recording studio with a brand-new album on the way in… (He begins laughing and talking to his producers.) You're kidding, right? I thought they broke up. They didn't? Well, why the hell is the redhead still…? Okay, fine, whatever. Our remaining contestants: The Spice Girls!
(The Spices are shown in Victoria's home, each with their arms around each other.)
All: Girl power!
Ginger: We're living with a bunch of men…
Sporty: And women!
Ginger: Yes, and women… we're living with them on a desert isle for several weeks in the name of girl power!
Posh: And because we need the press!
(Scary shoves her knuckle into Posh's ribs nonchalantly, still smiling for the cameras.)
Scary (in between Posh's gasps for air): She's just kidding, kids! What a great sense of humor she has, eh?
Baby: Tee hee hee!
Probst: We've dumped these lucky celebrities off the side of a miserable little fishing boat far away from the shore of an island no person in his right mind would set foot upon. Let's have a look.
(The scene abruptly changes to a tape of the boat a few minutes earlier. Several large security guards are tossing crates of supplies -and celebrities- over the side of the boat.)
Anna Nicole Smith (to a security guard holding her about the chest): Hey! No touching me there! Unless you're… (He throws her overboard.) riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiichhhhhhhhh…
(She falls into the water and immediately floats to the surface… courtesy of her rack.)
Britney Spears: Touch me! Touch me! (Some of the guards seem unwilling to grab Britney to toss her overboard.) Come on! It would only be illegal in a couple states!
Sporty: I'll help!
(The helpful Spice Girl rushes to Britney, grasps her about the chest and buttocks, and throws her into the water. Britney, like Anna, also seems incredibly buoyant.)
Sporty: Always glad to lend a helping hand when it comes to young girls. (Everyone around her pauses and stares at her.) What?! I meant it in the sisterly sense!
Guard: Off you go then, bloke.
Sporty: Bloke? Who's a blo… (The guards rush her and throw her into the sea.)
(Eventually, everyone is afloat in the water as the boat sails away. Some stay above water by means of plastic surgery, while others prove that fat does indeed float in the ocean.)
Scary: Well, this is a bloody crock! I left half of my luggage on that boat!
Robert Downey, Jr.: Eh, don't worry. I think I stashed enough "luggage" in my ass to keep us busy for a while. (He winks at Scary.)
George Lucas: You know, this reminds me of the underwater scene in the Phantom Menace. Except that we have no ship… or Gungans… and we don't have to sail through the planet's core.
Posh: Is he going to go on like this the entire time?
Anna Nicole Smith: Yeah, really. After we had sex in his cabin and he paid me, he wouldn't shut up about 1983 and Carrie Fisher and that gold bikini.
Michael Douglas (carrying Britney Spears on his back): This is all well and good, but shouldn't we swim to the island now instead of sitting here in cold water?
(Everyone, regardless of his or her mental capacity, seems to agree that this is a good idea. They begin swimming, dragging the few crates of supplies with them by rope.)
Ginger: Wait a minute… something's wrong. (She stops swimming.)
Posh: The cardboard tip is supposed to go in first, dear. (She continues swimming.)
Ginger: No, you idiot! (She does a quick head count.) We're missing two people!
(Britney's head pops up out of the water directly in front of Michael Douglas. She wipes her mouth.)
Ginger: Okay, okay… one person. (She turns around.)
(Floating gently where it landed in the water is the head-down body of Jan-Michael Vincent. A brownish discoloration of the water around him indicates that he had recently vomited before his untimely demise.)
Ginger: Ohmygod! This guy is dead!
Angelina Jolie: We all die sometime. Sometimes sooner than others. But then others don't die for a while. I love dying. Ever love someone so much you wish they'd die?
(Everyone stares blankly at Jolie's indecipherable drivel for a few moments. Then…)
Posh: Oh well… that just means one of us has a better chance of winning the prize now!
All (except Ginger): Yeah!
Ginger: Are you insane? We have to tell the host! (She begins screaming towards the far-away boat at the top of her lungs.) Hey! The Airwolf guy is DEAD!
(A barely audible voice from the boat yells back.)
Probst: Good! That just means one of you has a better chance of winning the prize now!
(She leaves the drunken corpse to drift in its brownish-blue water coffin and begins swimming towards the others.)
(Within the hour, everyone is on the beach, along with the supplies. Anna Nicole Smith is completely naked and frolicking in the water. The male population of the island, along with Sporty Spice, is staring at her.)
Anna Nicole Smith (realizing what she is doing): Oh. Sorry. Force of habit. You know, being on the beach and all.
The Men (somewhat disappointed that she is stopping): Eh, don't worry about it.
Sporty: No! There's nothing wrong with it! Don't stop! Don't… Hey! No! Don't put the bra on! Oh please…!
(Sporty's pleas for Smith to remain nude fade off as the camera rests on the rest of the islanders.)
Michael Douglas: Okay, since we're all here now, we should try to come up with some kind of plan to survive.
Posh: That's a good idea. I vote that everyone else unpacks and builds shelter while I find the hot tub and relax.
Scary: Uh… Vic…
Posh: And after that, I think I'll have a daiquiri and some caviar.
Lucas: Ms. Beckham?
Posh: Oh this is going to
be such a fun vacation!
Ginger: Hey, idiot!
(Posh, completely oblivious to her situation, turns on her heel and strolls towards the jungle in the middle of the island.)
Angelina Jolie: Wow. She's like an albatross… so furry and graceful all at once, but proud and weak.
Baby (after a long pause): Duhhhhh???
Michael Douglas: Uh… right. Anyway, I vote that everyone else unpacks the supplies and builds shelter while I relax.
Scary: What?? But… but…
Michael Douglas: Hey, I'm an Oscar winner, goddammit. I can order the rest of you around.
George Lucas: I won an Oscar too! That means I shouldn't have to do any work either.
Michael Douglas: Yeah, but yours was honorary. And besides, Porky, your last movie sucked like Britney over there.
(He motions to Britney Spears, who is casually deep-throating a banana.)
Britney Spears: Mmmpf?
Robert Downey, Jr.: I got an Academy Award too, asshole!
Michael Douglas: No, you were nominated. Now get to work, crackhead!
(Mumbling under their breaths, the group of survivors begins unloading the crates.)
Robert Downey, Jr. (under his breath): Asshole.
Michael Douglas: Er… not so fast Britney. I have another… job for you.
(Britney halts in mid-step and turns around.)
Britney Spears: Like, okay! Like, what do I have to do?
Michael Douglas (putting his arm around Britney and leading her towards the forest): Oh, it shouldn't be difficult. Just a little forward motion… some work on your hands and knees… that sort of thing.
Britney Spears: You mean like what my Justin and I do when the press isn't watching?
(They walk off together, leaving the others to do the dirty work.)
(The contestants wake up on the beach as the sun rises. As light fills the sandy shore, we see that there is no shelter built, and that all of the supplies from the crates are scattered about.)
Jeff Probst (voiceover): Morning breaks on the island of… the island of… (He coughs an indecipherable foreign name.) Our survivors have made it through their first night here, and are ready to get started on today's endeavors.
(The camera clearly shows no one in a hurry to get moving. Many of the contestants are lying on the sand like beached whales. Posh, Scary, and Robert are each sitting straight up, clutching their arms and shaking uncontrollably.)
Scary (repeating to herself): Need… crack… Need… crack…
Robert (repeating to himself): Need… heroin… Need… heroin…
Posh (repeating to herself): Need… bubble bath, mineral water, pedicure, filet mignon…. Need… bubble bath, mineral water, pedicure, filet mignon…
George (leaping to his feet): Ah! Morning! This reminds me of Luke Skywalker's home planet… Hoth!
Michael (dreary-eyed, still prone on the ground): It was Tatooine, you idiot.
George: No, no, my good friend. I wrote the movies, and I'm positive it was Hoth.
Britney (raising her head and wiping her upper lip): Uh, like, no… I've seen those movies. The sand planet is, like, Tatooine.
George: No, I'm quite sure…
Scary: Tatooine, you fat fuck! (She tosses a sandal at him.)
George: Well, I never! (Lucas picks up a makeshift spear and starts walking towards the ocean.) I'm going to go find breakfast. Maybe I'll catch a nice… Gungan! (He laughs at his own wit.)
(Shoes of all shapes and sizes fly at George Lucas as he runs into the water.)
Angelina: Hey pedophile-guy… I think I know how we can get a shelter built really fast.
Michael: Really? How?
(Moments later, Downey and Scary Spice are running around the beach like lab rats on speed.)
Michael: Quick, quick! Build a shelter before the man busts you! Building a house will prevent the man from taking your shit!
(Like beavers struggling to build a dam, Scary and Downey tear the wooden crates apart with their bare hands and begin creating a shelter. Hours later, a small log cabin is resting in the middle of the beach. Anna Nicole, Britney, Angelina, Michael, Posh, Ginger, Sporty, and Baby stand in amazement at the front door of the small house.)
Ginger: Absolutely amazing.
(George Lucas swims ashore and sees the new structure.)
George: Good Palpatine! Where did this come from?
Britney: Like, Michael and Angelina spiked Mr. Junior's drugs.
Michael (looking over at Downey and Scary, who are wheezing like marathon runners): Once they took a morning hit, they were cranked up so high they built this thing in a couple hours.
Anna Nicole: Oh Michael! You're so smart! And rich! (She begins pouting at him and rubbing herself.)
Michael: Sorry, miss. You're too old for me.
Anna Nicole (pouting): Drat! (She turns to Angelina.) Oh Angelina… you're so smart and rich…
Angelina: Sorry… I like fat, dumb rednecks and all, but until this "Billy Bob" tattoo comes off my arm, I'll only be fucking him.
Posh: Oh my Lord, I think I've just gone blind picturing that.
Anna Nicole: Awww.
(She looks around for more potentials. Sporty is grinning at her brightly. She turns away.)
Scary (huffing and puffing): Uh… guys… I think… something's wrong…
Britney: Like, you don't look so good!
Scary: No… shit!
(With that, she keels over and collapses on the sand.)
Angelina: Someone check for a pulse!
(No one moves.)
Britney: Ew! Like, no way! I don't want to touch her and risk catching her drug addiction!
Sporty: I'll do it! (She reaches for Scary.)
Michael: I… don't think you can find a pulse down there.
Sporty: Oh. Right. Sorry. (She reaches for Scary's neck.) No, no pulse.
Michael: Wow. All that sand in her nose candy must have popped her heart like one of Britney's pimples.
Ginger: This is horrible! (She pauses.) Wait… then why is Robert Downey not dead?
(Everyone turns to look at him.)
Robert: Built-up immunity.
(A few hours pass by uneventfully. Suddenly, Baby comes running back to the shelter from the forest, squealing with glee. Everyone inside is relaxing on a hammock.)
Michael (talking to Robert): So I said to her, "Pedophile? That's an awfully big word for a twelve year old."
Baby: Tee hee tee hee hee!
Robert: Is she going to do this every time she takes a piss by herself?
Sporty: She did it all the time back in England… phone calls at 3 a.m., e-mails every few hours. It lost its charm rather quickly. Only a true idiot would think there's any novelty in her celebration of going to the bathroom.
Britney (patting Baby on the head): Good girl! Good girl! Yes you are… yes you are! (She notices something around Baby's neck.) Hey, like, she's got something wrapped around her neck.
Posh: It's not another one of those snakes, is it?
Michael (scrutinizing): No… it appears to be a piece of paper.
George: I've got it. (He, being the closest person to Baby besides Britney, grabs the string tying the piece of paper around her neck. He unties it and begins reading.) It seems to be our first Survivor Challenge! "If winning survivor you want to be/ Survive you must the open sea/ Swim out real far but please don't drown/ We don't want our ratings going down."
Angelina: Wow. That is some weird stuff.
Michael: The rhyming is terrible too. It sounds like Yoda wrote it.
Ginger: He was in your movies!
(Lucas looks around, then points
George: MY movies?
Posh: Oh for God's sake…
Robert: Look, it's a lost cause. His head is too far up his ass.
George: Are you confusing this… Yoda… character with Jar Jar Binks, the greatest animated character of all time?
Sporty: Let's just go to this challenge of theirs.
(The group walks towards the other side of the island, leaving Lucas behind, muttering to himself.)
George: Ah yes, I can't wait to get back to land so I can film my next movie: Jar Jar Binks Episode II: Jar Jar Binks Strikes Back! (He notices everyone is leaving.) Hey, wait for me!
(He hurries after them.)
(On the other side of the island, the producers have set up a crude obstacle course leading from the beach into the ocean. Host Jeff Probst is lounging in what appears to be a very soft, very comfortable recliner. A woman in a grass skirt is serving him a drink.)
Probst (to the serving girl): Call me. (He turns to the survivors.) Now then, this is your first challenge. Whoever wins this will get a very useful prize they can use on the island.
Posh: Oh… I'll bet it's mascara!
Britney: Like, I hope it's food!
Michael: It has to be food. These fucking network savages wouldn't dare let us starve.
Probst: Now, the challenge is simple. All you have to do is swim from the beach to the end of the course we've set up. Whoever makes it there first wins. (He turns slyly to the camera.) What they don't know is that we've secretly been replacing their suntan lotion with slurry. Not only will they have to swim as fast as they can, but they'll have to avoid the sharks swimming dangerously close to shore!
Sporty: Er… Mr. Probst sir?
Probst (turning away from the camera): Mmm?
Sporty: We… uh… we sort of know now.
Robert: You weren't exactly whispering that top-secret information, you know.
Probst: Rats. Well… uh… I was kidding!
Posh: No! I'm not getting in shark infested waters…
Posh: …without an umbrella!
All: YEA… Huh?!
Probst: Look, do you want to win the prize or not?!
(Everyone glances at each other, then decides to head for the shore… except Anna Nicole Smith.)
Anna Nicole: Oh Mr. Prost? (She bats her eyebrows.)
Probst: That's Probst. Yes?
Anna Nicole (pouting): Do I really have to get into that nasty water with all the others? (She slides a hand across the top of her left breast.)
Probst: I… uh… (He gulps.)
Anna Nicole: Can't I just stay here with you for the rest of the show? (She slides the top half of her bikini off.)
Probst: Yes! Oh, God yes! You can stay here with me! (He turns to yell at the others.) The breast of you… I mean… The rest of you, start swimming to the end of the intercourse… I mean the COARSE! The coarse!
Ginger (under her breath): Fucking show-off.
(Everyone dives into the water and begins swimming for the buoys in the distance.)
(As the survivors near the halfway point, Angelina Jolie's head suddenly disappears under the waves. She soon pops back up and gasps for air.)
Jolie (completely calm): Wow, wicked. I think I'm about to get eaten by a shark. This is like, poetic or something.
(She disappears under the waves again, permanently.)
(This sudden shark attack causes the rest of the group to swim even faster. Not surprising to anyone, Sporty Spice reaches the buoys first.)
Sporty: Yeah! Woooooooo! Who's the man? Who's the man?!
Probst (with a bullhorn): Congratulations, Sporty! Now you all have to swim back to claim your prize!
(The return swim progresses without incident, seeing as the sharks are making a meal out of Angelina.)
Sporty (huffing and puffing): Okay… I made it back. Now where's my goddamn food?
Sporty: Yes, food! You said we were getting a prize for that challenge, and you'd have to be a fucking Communist not to give us food after all that!
Probst: No, no food, but I have something even better. (Everyone waits in silence as he reaches into his pockets and produces…) A pair of headphones!
(Sporty is completely silent with rage.)
Probst (dangling the headphones happily): Headphones! See?
Sporty: I don't have a radio. I don't have any electricity or batteries. And those headphones don't even come with a wire. WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO WITH HEADPHONES?!
Probst (flashing the headphones at the camera for convenient sponsor product-placement): Why, these are RCA headphones. You can do whatever you want with them and they'll last for 3 years or your money back. They're the best headphones money can buy… because they're RCA. And they're yours.
Sporty: Why you motherfu… (She lunges at Jeff Probst.)
(A nearby network security guard launches a tranquilizer dart at Sporty from a bamboo blowgun. It hits her in the neck, and she drops to the ground, twitching.)
Probst: Thanks, Ted!
Ginger: Oh sweet Jesus! Is that tranquilizer safe?
Probst: Of course! It's been tested on elephants with 100% results, and they're knocked out with a dart like that for hours.
(Sporty stops twitching.)
Probst: Now, off you go.
(The survivors, minus Anna Nicole Smith, all head back to their camp. No one bothers to pick up Sporty and carry her back.)
(The camera begins the next day by recording various sound bytes from the survivors.)
Ginger: I can't believe that slut is getting into bed with the host just so she doesn't have to win challenges! I mean, I used to be the one who did that kind of thing!
Baby: (Her words come out as strings of gurgles, shrieks, and drool.)
Britney: So, like, yeah, like, I almost got eaten by one of those sharks yesterday! I felt it brush up against my thighs but, like, I guess it got scared or something.
Michael: To my knowledge, sharks are repelled by very strong odors. So yes, I can tell you that I have firsthand knowledge of why that shark didn't go anywhere near Britney.
Posh: All this sand is wreaking havoc on my calves and… Wait, are you filming me? I don't have any makeup on! Turn off the camera! Turn it off! (She grabs some sand from the beach and pats it on her face.) There! Now I'm PRETTY!
Ginger: Oh, and another thing, I think Posh is starting to lose it from all this heat and lack of modern conveniences.
Robert: This place isn't so bad. No cops to worry about… no publicists screaming at you to put the needles away. I could get used to this.
George: This island is nice. Apparently, I'm the only one around here who can fish. Also, I enjoy walking around the island naked as often as I can. Because there's nothing the television audiences would like to see more than a fat, bearded man walking around an island naked.
Anna Nicole (rather than the beach backdrop that accompanies everyone else's interview footage, Anna Nicole is obviously sitting in a luxurious cabin, complete with a spa, candles, comfortable chairs, furniture, etc.): This Survivor show is a lot harder than I expected. I mean, surviving on an island takes a lot of work.
Probst (off-camera): Hey Sugarbaby, are you and your two friends coming back to bed?
Anna Nicole: Yep, hard work. Bye. (She walks away.)
(Various footage of the survivors complaining about each other is shown, and finally night falls. The seven beach-bound contestants all pick up some torches and begin hiking toward the center if the island, where a set has been built that would make any ancestors of modern-day island dwellers spin in their graves. Probst is there, along with Anna Nicole Smith. The survivors sit down on logs.)
Probst: Every three days, the eight of you will have to hike back here to this place, so we can hold Tribal Council. This is where one of you will get voted off the island. Our producers tell us that this is what a real tribal meeting place looks like… assuming that Joel Schumacher designed said tribal meeting place. So, before we begin voting, how was everyone's hike here?
(Everyone merely nods or says, "Fine," except Ginger and Baby. Baby is foaming at the mouth.)
Ginger: I think a snake bit her leg while we were walking here!
Probst: Yeah, that's a bitch. Now, Britney, what are your thoughts on the infrastructure of this tribe?
Britney: Um… it's cool?
Ginger: Oh my God, her eyes are turning green!
Probst: Yeah, snakebites will do that. Now Posh, things have been noticeably hard on you due to your fragile grasp on reality. How have you been coping?
Posh: Well, I'm starting to get used to it. In fact, The Great Gazoo informed me today that I'm even more ravishing than ever now that I'm not wearing makeup.
Ginger: Augh! She's hemorrhaging from her eyes and throat!
Probst: Uh huh… so George, what's… (He glances at Baby.) Oh for the love of God, will you get her out of here?! She's bleeding all over the set!
Robert: It's a shame that Sporty girl isn't here. She always offered to suck out snake venom when any of the other girls got bitten.
(Ginger helps Baby to her feet and leads her away from the set.)
Ginger: Think you can make it the rest of the way by yourself?
(Baby nods weakly.)
(Ginger returns to her seat as Baby strolls into the forest. With an audible thump of twigs and underbrush, she collapses.)
Probst: One last question before we begin voting… Anna, who's your daddy?
Anna Nicole: You are, baby.
Probst: Damn right. Okay, now one at a time, go over there and vote.
(One by one, each survivor walks to the voting area, where they write down someone's name on a slip of paper and place it into a basket. Soon, all votes have been cast, and Probst brings the basket over to the council area.)
Probst: Okay, I'm now going to read the votes. Remember, all voting is final. (He begins taking out pieces of paper and he flashes them to the survivors as he reads each vote.) Anna. Anna. Anna. Squiggly line. (Britney blushes.) Anna. Anna. The big-breasted bitch. (He turns to George Lucas.) George, I'm sorry. It looks like you'll have to leave.
George: Wha… what?
Ginger: Now hold on there! The votes clearly indicated that Ms. Smith was voted off!
Probst: Well, normally yes, but this squiggly line clearly indicates that George was voted for as well.
Robert: But he's not in the majority! And you said all voting was final!
Probst (agitated): Yeah, well… I'm the host, damn it! And what I say goes!
George: But why me?
Probst: Five words, Lucas: Howard the Duck.
George: But… that's only three words.
Probst: Right, because the last two are Fuck off!
(Downtrodden, George Lucas walks into the jungle where all Survivor losers go when they are voted off the island.)
(More intimate interviews with the survivors.)
Ginger: Well, I'll admit that I miss George already. The fat bastard got us fish all the time, and now I'm stuck eating Posh's facemask cream for sustenance. (She lifts a tube to her lips labeled " Daily Facial Cream - Made from Cucumber Extract.") You get used to the aftertaste after a while.
Michael (walking): Well, we're all getting along fine without the senile, fat, naked guy. That was just disgusting. What a disgusting pervert. (He walks to Britney and kisses her with his tongue.)
Britney (to the camera): So, like, yeah, that Junior guy, he's been, like, going off into the forest in the middle of the night. I think he's doing something out there.
Robert: The forest? Middle of the night? She said that?! Why, that little…! (He regains his composure, still somewhat visibly nervous.) Uh… actually… I'm just going for night walks out there. That's all. Long walks. At night. In the snake-infested forest. Yep. (He stares at the camera for several seconds before it is finally taken off of him.)
Posh (obviously losing her mind): The pixie people awakened me from Nirvana again last night. I told them to cheese off with a side of pickles and wood shavings. Ampersand, dollar sign, colon, semi-colon. They call me Dr. Worm… interested in things… not real doctor… (She begins punching the sand with her hands and chanting in nonexistent languages.)
Anna Nicole (still obviously in Probst's cabin): When this is all over, Jeff said he's going to be rich! And that means I can get half of it!
Probst (off-camera): Oh baby! There's still some peanut butter left between my toes!
(The survivors head off to a nearby beach to participate in the next challenge. Probst is standing on the sand next to a large bull's-eye and some quivers filled with arrows.)
Probst: Ah, so we meet again. Today's challenge is for a very special prize.
Ginger: Oh, bloody great. What's it going to be this time? A can of motor oil? Perhaps a mop? Or is it just another pair of headphones?
Posh: I am the eggman… I am… walrus!
Probst: Now then, the six of you will… (He starts looking over the survivors.) One… two… three… four… five… Five?! Where's Robert?
Posh: A beast he become, lest a beast he be!
Britney: He, like, went out last night and didn't come back.
(On cue, there is a loud bang in the middle of the jungle. Several species of birds fly away, startled. A maniacal laughter soon follows.)
Probst: Oh well. I have no idea where he is either. (Long pause.) So, let's get started with this challenge. This is an archery course.
Probst: On an archery course, you fire these pointy objects, called "arrows," at this large target, called a "target."
Probst: So essentially, everyone gets a shot, and whoever gets closest gets this… can of motor oil! (He holds up a can of motor oil.)
Ginger: I fucking knew it!
Probst: So, who wants to go first?
Posh: Blabbering blatherskite!
Probst: Very well, Posh goes first!
(Probst hands Posh the bow and an arrow. She nocks the arrow, turns around, and faces Britney.)
Posh: Blood for the Blood God!
(With that, she launches the arrow at Britney. It enters the left side of her chest with an audible squishing noise. Britney falls on the ground, and Michael rushes to her side.)
Michael: Britney! No! Don't die on me! There's something I want you to do first!
Britney: … (gurgling blood)
Michael (producing a piece of paper from his shirt): Sign this pre-nup for me?
Britney (before her death rattle): Like… let's… just… be friends. (She dies.)
Michael (screaming): NOOOOOOOOOOOO! (He drops her body.) You bitch!
Probst: This is indeed a sad moment in Survivor history. She would have been the youngest person on the show to meet her end here… except for those British boys who worshipped the conch shell and killed that fat kid. Oh well, done is done and fun is fun. Who's next?
Michael: Give me that! (He swipes the bow and arrows and takes aim at Posh.) I would have gotten half her royalties, you bitch!
(He launches the arrow into Posh's throat.)
Posh (dying): Redrum! Redrum! Redru… (She falls.)
Probst: I'm sorry Michael, you didn't hit the target either. Anna, would you like to go next?
Anna Nicole (giggling): Well… 'kay. But I've never shot one of these before.
Probst: Oh, it's easy. You just grab one end of the arrow, grab the bow in the middle, and…
Anna Nicole (holding the bow completely backwards): Like this?
Probst: No, no. See, if you let it go like that, you're going to…
(Her fingers slip, and the arrow launches backwards.)
Anna Nicole: Oops.
(Though almost physically impossible, Anna proves that stupidity has no lower boundaries. The arrow flies at top speed behind her, landing directly in Michael's skull. He topples over, landing on top of Britney.)
Ginger: Now this is just getting silly.
Probst: I'm sorry Anna, but you lose too. Geri, how would you like to try?
Ginger: Why bother? I'm the only one left. I've got the motor oil by default!
Probst: Well, our rules say you have to hit the target… (Anna Nicole Smith begins sticking her tongue into his ear.) But fuck the rules. Here, take the motor oil! Bye! (He and Anna run off to the cabin.)
(Ginger is left standing amidst a heap of dead bodies.)
Ginger: Wonderful. Just wonderful.
(She skulks back off to the camp.)
Ginger (to the camera): So I wake up, and my motor oil is gone. Vanished. Someone made off with it, and since I know there's only one person left on this side of the island, I know where it went.
(A loud bang once again erupts from the forest.)
Ginger: No, I have no idea what he's doing in there, and frankly I don't care. If he misses another challenge thingie, he's gone, and it's just me and that walking hoobler-fest left in the running for the grand prize.
(Hours pass by with Ginger doing absolutely nothing. Finally, Probst and Anna walk to her camp.)
Probst: Hey Ginger! It's time for the next Tribal Council!
Ginger: Why? There's no way either of us can be voted off. Downey's missing, and Anna and I are just going to end up voting for each other! It's going to be a stalemate! If you hadn't let everyone die, we…
Probst (interrupting): Hmm… okay, then that's your new Survivor Challenge ®!
Ginger: …would have… Huh?
Probst: Your new challenge is to go get Robert and bring him to Tribal Council.
Ginger: What about her?
(Anna Nicole Smith pouts at Jeff Probst.)
Probst: Uh… she got the Immunity Idol… or something.
Ginger: Bloody hell.
(Ginger storms off, still determined to somehow win this game. After half an hour of searching through the jungle, she comes upon a clearing. There is a crude fort built out of wood in the middle of it.)
Ginger: Uh… hello?
(There is no answer.)
(Still no answer.)
Ginger (yelling): Robert, come out now! I know you're in there!
(Robert pops out from behind a wall with a large, hollow chunk of wood held horizontally against his shoulder. He is wearing a coconut shell helmet, leaves, and mud for camouflage.)
Robert: You'll never take me alive, pigs!
(He flips a twig on the side of the log he's holding, and a coconut shell with a fuse on it launches from the trunk.)
Ginger: What the…?
(The shell lands in front of Ginger, whereupon it promptly explodes, taking her and pieces of the forest with it.)
Robert (brushing his hands together): A little motor oil, the electrical components from a headphones, a little spark, some sulfur, saltpeter, and a coconut shell. And they say you can't learn anything by watching Star Trek reruns. (He laughs maniacally.) You'll never get me now, coppers!
(Back on the beach…)
Probst (looking at his watch): Well, it's been a few minutes. I'd say she's forfeited, wouldn't you?
Anna Nicole: Uh huh. (She nods.)
Probst: So I guess that makes you the winner!
Anna Nicole: Oh Jeff! (She crosses her arms behind his neck and leans forward to kiss him.)
Probst: Maybe now that the show's getting more successful, they'll up my salary to five figures!
Anna Nicole (pausing mere millimeters from Probst's lips): Did you say… five figures?
Probst: Anna, will you marry me?
Anna Nicole (gently pushing Probst away): Jeff… let's just be friends.
Trademark and copyright 2000, CloudVader Productions. Do not reproduce without giving the author, Cloud Volpe, due credit.
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