By Fanatic and Advocate

Important Notices:

This is a work of fiction in the genre of parody. Parody means: 1) a pair of d's; 2) a literary or musical work in which the style of an author or work is closely imitated for comic effect or in ridicule; 3) a feeble or ridiculous imitation. Personally, we're shooting for number two.

This means several things: 1) CBS can't sue us for copyright infringement as parody is clearly within the exception rule. Nah nah nah nah nah. 2) Obviously, this is a lampoon of "Survivor", the ridiculous stunt series of the summer. But, hey, it's beating 'Who Wants To Be A Millionaire' in the ratings, thank the gods above! 3) Big note: We are not going to be politically correct in this series. If you like PC humor, don't read this. If you still read this and don't like it, don't write us about it. We plan on bashing stereotypes (hey, they exist for a reason, folks) and exaggerating about as many people and places as possible. It's all in the name of humor. If it ain't your cup of tea, swim on, matey, this here is our island.

Now, just because CBS can't sue us for copyright infringement, we can and will sue you. This is an original work of fiction. Fanatic and Advocate own the copyright. (See below for the complete copyright statement.) Think about our pseudonyms, folks. Fanatic - insane, crazy, obsessed; Advocate - another name for an attorney. Add to the mix the fact that Fanatic is also an attorney …and you don't want to screw with us on this issue. Enough said.

This work of fiction is intended for mature audiences only. There are adult themes and language, nudity, sensuality, sexuality, alternative lifestyles (including depictions of homosexuality), and the like. We believe that most parents would consider these elements to be too strong (for viewing by persons less than 18 years of age). If we were a film, we would have an "R" or an "NC-17" rating.

Episode 3: Paradise: Lost

The camp was quiet. Very quiet. Eerily quiet. The quiet before a shit storm hits you full in the face and there-isn't-a-scrap-of-toilet-paper-in-sight kinda quiet.

The eight members of Alpha Team were scattered around their campsite. Compared to Beta Team's it was luxurious. Marty and Ryan had constructed two bunkhouses that could withstand up to a Type II monsoon.

The tarp that had nearly drowned Yun-kyung during her swim to the raft was now stretched between two palm trees and one of the bunkhouses, providing a shady escape from the heat. All in all, it was a somewhat dilapidated version of a Girl Scout camp. Russell was particularly looking forward to the pillow fights at night.

Ryan sat by the campfire and was carefully feeling her scalp for the transmitter that had to be there. How else did they know to put that luscious little thing on the other team? It must have been put in the one time she had gone into the hospital. Her second-in-command had - gasp! - filled out forms giving her name and other personal information. Now, all of it was housed on big brother's computer, there for all the intelligence world to see. So maybe it isn't an implant, but still, if it is …

She'd have to be sure to deny her true feelings of instant attraction to Shannon. No, don't even think her name, Ryan. It's bad enough you looked it up in the Castaway brochure. If they know you want her, they'll torture you with not having her. You must be strong. Like John Wayne when he wanted Maureen O'Hara in 'The Quiet Man'.

Tony came bounding over to the others, holding a bamboo tube in his hand. "The mail came!"

Fucking postal service is everywhere! Not even communications on the island are safe! Ryan immediately took the tube and inspected it for bombs.

"Give that to me, you loon." Marty snatched the tube out of her hand and pulled out the parchment. The others waited eagerly for him to read it aloud, though Yun-kyung was unsure whether he was capable of such an advanced skill. "It's a map," he announced, leaving the veterinarian to continue wondering.

"What should we do with it?" Marva asked. She was still a bit overwhelmed by everything going on. Since her swim to the island, she had tried to remain as close to Ryan as possible. The tall, dark-haired woman was a bit paranoid, but she was a whole lot safer than her other teammates. While Russell gave Marva the impression that if she wasn't a virgin, he wasn't interested, Marty had no such inhibitions.

"This is so fuckin' cool!" Tony said, pumping his arm. "Let's go! I bet this is our first challenge. We need to get to that 'x' first so the other team has to lose a person."

Ryan shrugged. "I dunno. Sometimes it's good to weed the garden."

Suddenly, crystals were swinging around, flashing rainbows in the air as Molly twirled her necklace and chanted. "Peace … harmony … love … unity."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, come on, Granola, let's get going." Marty pushed himself to his feet and dusted the sand off his shorts. He hated it when he got sand in the crack of his ass. Very annoying.

One by one the team began following him into the jungle. Like lemmings taking that extra step, they followed his lead.

* * *

The map was not very helpful. It appeared to be drawn by a dyslexic sixth grader wearing a cast. Actually, that wasn't too far from the truth. But Joan's production crew didn't like to tell her that to her face.

They marched in single file. There wasn't any real need to do so, but all of them had watched jungle movies in the past and were going with tradition. Jason followed directly behind Martin, trying to glance over the older man's shoulder for a look at the map.

"So where do you think they're sending us?"

"I hope somewhere with a Burger King," Tony whined, licking The Patch he had just removed from his
shoulder. He hoped against hope the nicotine would enter his bloodstream faster that way.

"We've only been here thirty hours," Jason observed, glancing at his watch.

"How can you even eat at those horrific fast food restaurants? The amount of abuse the animals suffer prior to being brutally slaughtered and then consumed by arrogant Americans such as yourself is …"

Tony stopped and faced Yun-kyung. "Are you telling me you don't like BK?" He sounded personally offended, as if it were his fattened calf she had refused.

"Like? No, I don't like a corporation that helps destroy the rain forests in South America. Did you know that more than half the species in the world live in the rain forest? And you're killing them for your Big Macs?"

"Those are at MickeyD's. BK has the Whopper." Tony knew his fast food menu items. "And isn't it MickeyD's that's destroying the rain forest?"

Marva shivered. "I hate clowns."

Everyone turned to face the housewife. "Huh?" Jason managed on behalf of the group.

"Clowns. You know, ever since 'Poltergeist', they've scared the crap out of me. When my daughter, Edwina, was born someone gave me a stuffed clown for her. Well, first thing I did was stick that thing down the garbage disposal. I didn't want it coming to life in the middle of the night and strangling my little darling."

Ryan nodded solemnly. It wasn't entirely implausible.

"So, we don't go to McDonald's," Marva continued. "Ronald scares me."

"I've always wondered about why he feels a need to disguise his true identity," Ryan confided. "If his burgers are such a good thing, why does he have to dress up like that? If not to fool us?"

Yun-kyung rolled her eyes and started hiking again. It wouldn't be worth the oxygen expenditure to try to reason with her teammates.

"Let's go, ladies," Marty called out, meaning the rest of his team. The two young boys were barely old enough to have hair on their balls and Marty considered Russell a bit of a pansy, being a schoolteacher and all.

An hour later, the group stopped. Marty carefully studied the map and glanced around trying to get his bearings.

Russell shook his head and sat down on a large boulder.

"Do you need help?" Marva asked sweetly. She was used to driving with her husband. That man could get lost even in little Stone Mountain.


"Sometimes it helps to get another opinion -"


"We all need help finding our way," Molly said. "Without others to act as our compass, we are adrift."

"It's this way," the construction foreman insisted and stormed confidently into the bog in front of them. Despite his determination, his steps soon became very slow. It was when he was a good fifteen paces away from the rest of the team that Marty realized where he was:


"Oh shit," he whispered, not wanting any of the others to hear. He was certainly manly enough to swear around them, but far too manly to sound panicked.

Perhaps he could outrun it.

Moving as quickly as he could, he managed to sink to his hips.

Shit. Fuck.

He glared at the cameraman who was filming his descent into the sludge. "You wanna give me a hand here?"

The cameraman shrugged. "I'm union, buddy." Saving dumb ass contestants wasn't in his contract.

"Little help," Marty said in as casual a tone as he could manage.

* * *

By unanimous consent, Ryan now led the team. In possession of the slightly soggy and gritty map, the survivalist set off at a rapid pace for their destination. Also by unanimous consent, Marty had been sent to the rear of the line. Quicksand stinks like shit on your shoes on a hot summer day.

Ryan wondered if Shannon - no! don't think her name! - was already at their destination. Was the jungle heat affecting her? Was her skin all slick with sweat, little droplets gathering between her lush, ripe breasts?

The cute blonde reminded Ryan of her first love, the tragic Chloe. They had been grade school sweethearts, though everyone thought they were just playing Barbies together. Just like Barbie, they were going to have it all. Including a non-functional male to serve their every whim.

Then, one day, Chloe got a retainer. At first, Ryan thought it was kinda sexy, the way it made her mouth all sparkly. But then …

The voices came.

They were playing a hurt-comfort scene with Barbie and Skipper when Ryan first heard it. It was a weather forecast. Coming from Chloe's mouth.

Soon, stock market quotes came.

And - gasp! - top 40 hits.

Hearing Casey Kasem's voice and a cheesy dedication to someone's dead pet iguana coming from her beloved's mouth was too much to bear. Ryan made her own long distance dedication and broke up with Chloe.

That night, in her despair, Chloe forgot to take out her retainer. It choked her during her sleep.

Ryan never truly recovered.

* * *

Shannon leaned against a tree. The same tree that they had passed at least once an hour for the past four hours. And she knew damn well that it was the same tree, too, because David, the portly religious guy, felt the need to scratch tiny crosses on every conceivable surface to mark their trail. Shannon was standing as far away from him as possible. She didn't want to be saved! At least by him.

This was their first challenge -- a competition between the Alpha and Beta Teams where the loser would have to select one of their team members to leave the island. And the winning team would receive a fishing rod. So here they were, hopelessly lost in the middle of the dense, uneven, jungle. Using a hand drawn map provided by Joan, trying to find a secret location somewhere in the middle of the island before the Alpha Team did.

The young blonde smacked another buzzing insect, surprised that, despite the fact that she was hungry, tired, bug-bitten, and sunburned, she was in pretty good spirits. This was the first time in, she didn't know how long, that she wasn't at Rita's immediate beck and call. No organizer, no Palm V, no pager, no phone. She felt positively naked… Ohh… naked… that got her thinking about Ryan.

Closing her eyes and using the rough tree bark, Shannon decided to give herself a good old-fashioned back scratching. Eagerly, she allowed her thoughts to wander to a certain blue-eyed castaway. Ryan had her curiosity piqued. She would be the perfect protagonist in a story! A female anti-hero; all rough and psychotic on the exterior, but with a heart of gold. And even if she didn't have a heart of gold, she still had perfect breasts! A woman couldn't have everything, could she?

Shannon's frantic movements against the tree slowed, and shifted into a languid swaying motion. God, but that bark felt good against her itchy bug bites! Ohh… scratching an itch… that got her thinking about Ryan again. Thick dark hair, tall, muscular but still feminine -- assuming you overlooked that big ass knife, and forgot about the fact that she was dressed for combat, and didn't dwell on her ability to cause the loss of bladder control with a single stare. Okay, so I like 'em butch! Sue me! Oh yeah. Ryan could scratch her itch.

A soft moan escaped Shannon's lips.

"Oh, Channon! Chica, when is the wedding between you and that tree? And how come I wasn't invited!" Arturo stomped his foot petulantly, resting his hands on slender hips in mock irritation.

Shannon's eyes popped open and she immediately flushed, realizing that her movements against the tree were bordering on pornographic. Oh God, I can't be horny! It's too hot to be horny. I'll melt! No more thinking about Ryan. But for some reason, that solution was immediately disregarded as unacceptable. Okay, I can still think about her. But only when I'm alone. God, I'm weak!

Shannon stepped away from the tree and tried to scrub the blush from her face with her hands. "My name is Shannon, not Channon." Could that Fernando Lamas accent be for real?

"That's what I said, girlfriend: Channon."

Shannon's gaze dropped to her feet. "I was just… um…"

"I know what you were doing, or at least imagining doing." Arturo giggled like a 12-year-old schoolgirl. "Too bad there are no cold chowers on this island. Oh my!" He slapped his cheeks with the palms of his hands. "That Desiree person is finally finished arguing with Tanesha. I absolutely must go talk to her about her hair. Tsk... Tsk… How can she not know Clairol #36 Auburn is out this season?"

Arturo pointed back to the tree behind Shannon. "I hope you two will be very happy together," he added before flittering over to Desiree.

When she felt like her face was no longer lobster red, Shannon took a step to rejoin the group. They had to find their way sometime! Shit! She just knew they had already lost this challenge, which meant their team would be minus one member by tonight. She only hoped it wouldn't be her.

"Ms. Muldoon?" a voice queried from behind Shannon.

The blonde nearly jumped out of her skin. She had already forgotten several cameramen were hovering around like vultures, capturing their every move. "Yes. I'm Shannon."

The man dug a note out of his pocket. "I was asked to give this to you... Um... in private. But... well, um... the only time you're not near the group is when you're taking a lea..."

"You were watching?!"

"NO!" the cameraman denied vigorously.

"Pervert!" Shannon snatched the note out of his sweaty hands.

The man shifted from one foot to the other. How was he to know what she made that little side trip earlier for? He was only doing his job!

At the sound of raised voices, the shooter moved toward the group. Surely a clawfest between Arturo and Desiree would count as a catfight! Oh yeah. That bonus was in the bag! "Big screen TV, here I come," he chuckled as he moved into position.

Shannon held the note in her hands without opening it. Oh God. Someone had to be dead. Why else would she be receiving personal correspondence? Her pulse began to pound and she slowly opened the creased paper. Her eyes immediately scanned to the bottom of the message.

FUCK! It was from Rita! Would the woman ever leave her alone? What did she want now? Her firstborn? A kidney? For Shannon to drop everything and run home so she could go to the nursing home and visit Rita's senile Grandpa, all the while pretending to be the executive? Ha! She can just drop dead. I told her I wasn't going to do that… again. I have my pride!

Irritated green eyes scanned the telegram that had, apparently, come via the neighboring island.


Keep your eyes off Ryan's boobs! (Too bad too, she does have nice tits). We had to cut out that whole bit on the boat where she looked up at you and froze. Bender just went ape (deleted by government censor).

This is coming directly from Bender, so pay attention:

"What in the (deleted by government censor) does that stupid blonde (deleted by government censor) think she's doing? She can't be the lesbian! She's the (deleted by censor) girl next door!"

Can't you start making doe eyes at Joe instead? He's nice looking. Reminds me of a doctor I met once in Chicago. Anyway, Bender is hoping for sparks between Ryan and Tanesha. Or, in the alternative, that Martin will be able to turn her. So hands and eyes off!

For clarity, I repeat, while on the island, YOU CANNOT BE GAY!

The person directly above you on the food chain,


"Who in the hell does she think she is?" Shannon said angrily, balling up the note, but stuffing it in her pocket instead of tossing it on the ground. Who knew how long that toilet paper would last?

"Give it back! Give it back!"

Shannon's eyes were drawn to her teammates, several of whom were hunched over the incredibly useless map, while the others appeared to be engaged in a game of 'keep away'.

"Give it back!" Bill, who was by far the quietest member of the Beta Team, was nearly in tears. Joe and Dawn were gleefully tossing something to each other, over the software designer's head. And every time Bill got close to reclaiming whatever it was they were throwing, they'd launch it beyond his reach again.

"What's going on here?" Shannon stalked over to Joe, Dawn, and Bill. "Hmm?"

Joe and Dawn's gazes dropped sheepishly to the island floor. "We were just having some fun, Shannon," Joe admitted guiltily, digging the toe of his boot into the moist soil.

"Let me have it," Shannon demanded, holding out her hand and doing a very good imitation of someone's mother. "Am I the only adult on this entire team?"

No one answered.

"Thank you," Bill said to Shannon as he plucked his pocket protector from her hand and slid it neatly into place.

Shannon shook her head sadly, wondering if a single day went by in grade school where someone didn't kick Bill's ass. "Bill, how did they let you on the island with that?" She motioned toward the bright white pocket protector. "That can't be what you selected for your luxury item."

"He wouldn't get on the boat without it," Dawn piped up. "He convinced Joan it was part of his clothing."

"It is," Bill shot back. "It's perfectly logical that something worn on your person, at all times, be considered clothing."

Shannon's pale brows creased. "But you don't have anything with you. What is the pocket protector supposed to protect?"

"I don't know!" Bill cried. "It's always had something before!" The man fell to his knees and began to sob. "How am I supposed to function without my mechanical pencils?!" The sobbing intensified.

Shannon's eyes widened and she took a quick step backwards. This was clearly someone a few gigs short of a hard drive. Oh, hard …I bet Ryan …Stop it, Shannon!

Heedless of the piteous cries, David walked over to Bill and laid a comforting hand on the shaking man's shoulder. "It's all right, son," he said in a soothing voice, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

Bill buried his face against David's ample stomach.

With a final pat on the back, David took a step away from Bill and directed his statement to the group. "I propose that if we keep walking in circles, never finding our way out of the center of the island, we eat Bill first."

"What?!" Bill screamed, rising to his feet.

Dark eyes trained themselves on Bill. "It's God's way, son. The weak shall perish from the earth. God proclaims…"

The entire group started to groan. "Enough. Shut the hell up with that God stuff. Why don't we just eat you, porky cracker," came the varied replies.

"You are not logical! You are not logical!" Bill screeched to no one in particular, his eyes darting wildly from person to person. "I will not be eaten by you unevolved, under- educated cretins!"

"What do you mean 'unevolved?'" Desiree asked in a confused voice. "What do you care if I'm seeing anyone, geek?"

Bill cocked his head to the side as if examining another, far lesser, species.

When Bill didn't answer her quickly enough, Desiree turned to the group. "Will someone please tell me why Bill is crying and talking about croutons?" She was even more confused than before. "Will we be having salad later?"

Ignoring the idiot model, Shannon held up placating palms. "Look, Bill, I'm sure David was only joking." She glared at the minister who was sucking in his stomach, trying not to look like too much of an appetizing meal himself. "No one is going to...."

With a speed no one would have suspected the uncoordinated man possessed, Bill lunged for the map, tearing it out of Tanesha's hands before disappearing into the jungle.

The Betas stared at each other in shocked silence before it finally registered that Bill had completely snapped and made off with their map. A round of curses rang out as the entire team took off after their rogue member.

* * *

Three hours later, Bill crashed through the jungle into a clearing littered with several benches and a glowing fire pit. Sitting there, looking extremely bored, was the Alpha Team. Thirty seconds later, the scratched, panting, sweat-soaked Betas stumbled into the clearing, hot on Bill's trail.

Ryan did her best not to laugh. And she thought her team was a bunch of candy-asses! The Beta Team was beyond pathetic. Well, except for Shannon, of course. But even if Shannon turned out to be a candy-ass too, Ryan had a strange feeling she could live with it. Oh yeah. Shannon could melt in her mouth anytime. The survivalist had to bite her tongue to stop from moaning out loud. Spy or not, she needed to meet this woman. Hell, she just needed this woman period.

Suddenly, as if sensing her thoughts, intense green eyes focused on her for the briefest of seconds before flickering back to Joan.

Joan shook her head ruefully, wondering why Bill had attached himself to her leg like a wayward puppy. This first challenge wasn't meant to be that difficult. "I'm sorry, Beta Team. The Alpha Team was here first."

"Duh!" Joe shouted out as he tried to walk off his charley horse. For someone who spent his days in front of a screen, Bill was surprisingly fast. It's amazing what the threat of cannibalism will do for a man's athletic ability.

"You may go back to your tribal village, Alpha Team," Joan announced for the cameras.

Like we're gonna go someplace else. Ryan wiped her hands off on her shorts as she stood up to leave. Why are my hands sweaty all of the sudden? It's because she's here. God, if she makes my palms wet like this, just imagine what she can do for other places.

One by one, the victorious team trooped out of the clearing. Ryan made sure she was last to leave and just as she passed Shannon, pretended to stumble. It wasn't the best plan, but, damn, she had to find a way to get her hands on the pretty blonde and she was in a pinch. "Oof," Ryan grunted, clinging on to Shannon tighter than a T-shirt to Brittany Spears.

"Are you okay?"

The question was asked with such sincerity, it took Ryan's breath away for a moment. "Uh, yeah," was her articulate reply.

"Be careful, it's getting dark."

Regaining her balance, Ryan flashed a cocky grin. "All the best things happen in the dark. Don't you be getting yourself voted off here now." With that and a pat on the butt, Ryan hurried after her teammates.

"Moving on..." Joan tried to regain Beta Team's attention. "This location, at the very center of the island, its heart, is sacred. It is here, on hallowed ground, the Tribal Council meetings take place."

"Bring on the vote!" Tanesha called impatiently.

Joan ground her teeth together. Did these people have no sense of the dramatic? "Tonight," she paused for effect, staring into one of the rapidly zooming cameras, "you'll lose one of your own."

Every member of the Beta Team fixed their eyes either on Bill or David.

Shannon pushed sweat-drenched bangs off her forehead with the back of her hand, doing her best to catch her breath. Other than Joe and Tanesha, she was the only member of her team who hadn't collapsed around the fire pit. "Somehow, Joan, I don't think that's going to be a problem."

<fade out>

As always, thanks to our wonderful editing team and our web designer. You guys make our lives easy and make us look good. We are indebted.

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Though this series is inspired by certain actual incidents, it is a work of fiction and references to real people and organizations are included only to lend a sense of authenticity. All of the characters, whether central or peripheral, are wholly the product of the authors' imagination, as are their actions, motivations, thoughts and conversations, and neither the characters nor the situations which were invented for them are intended to depict real people or real events. In particular, the depictions of CBS and the Survivor television series are not meant to portray the corporation, or any individual on that show, but are only used to lend a sense of authenticity to this work of fiction.