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 5: Go Fish!
Shannon sat leaning against a tall palm tree at the beach's edge. She dug her toes into the warm sand, rereading her latest journal entry. With a satisfied nod, the blonde looked up from the thick tablet, her gaze drifting out over the sparkling blue water.
Then it hit her. The smoky smell of cooking fish. She closed her eyes in ecstasy as she began to salivate, and her stomach growled furiously. God, what wouldn't she do for some of the Alpha Team's food?
Maybe she could offer her body in exchange for sustenance? Oh, yeah. That might work. But she would only give herself to their leader, Ryan. It would be a sacrifice, but Shannon was just that kind of person.
Sacrificing. Of course, that usually required a virgin, but that state was fortunately only a distant memory for Shannon. She wondered if Ryan would care.
Ryan would undoubtedly require that she perform some hideous, vile act. Something that even Hugh Grant would refuse to do. But, oh yes, Shannon would persevere. This was, after all, for the greater good. She was going to bring some fish back for her team, too. But only after she satisfied her undeniable, insatiable craving to feast on the succulent, tender…
"You're thinking about her again, aren't you?" Arturo accused, dropping down onto the sand next to Shannon.
Shannon's eyes and mouth flew open.
"Talk to the hand, girlfriend." He thrust his palm in front of her face. "Don't bother denying it, Channon. You're drooling."
Shannon's hand shot up to the corner of her mouth. Green eyes turned to slits. "Very funny."
"Rambo Ryan's reality check bounced, girlfriend. A sweet thing like you should stay far, far away from her. She's on the boat to Loco Island."
"She is not! And who says I'm so sweet?!" Shannon added indignantly.
Arturo just smirked.
A strong gust of wind drew Arturo's and Shannon's attention back to the scent of roasting fish.
They both groaned.
"I can't take it anymore!" Shannon wrapped her arms around her empty stomach.
Arturo nodded. "Anything, chica. I will do anything for some real food."
"Then we must be prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice." Shannon tapped her chin with her pencil, a predatory look crossing her face. "We've got to offer something far more alluring than our bodies. Something no person in his right mind could refuse."
"Toilet paper," a wide-eyed Marva said in a hushed, wistful voice. Her fingertip reverently grazed the note in Ryan's hands, which was written on several squares of pristine white, exquisitely-quilted, baby-powder scented tissue. "We have to do it, Ryan!"
Ryan's heart nearly burst with pride as she read over Shannon's offer. Damn, but Shannon was good! Too good for the CIA. But who then? The United Nations? Scotland Yard? Interpol? KGB, IRS, FAA, FTC, ESPN, NRA, QVC, FHA, or IRA? Ryan began to get dizzy.
Marty looked from the tissue to the fishing pole and back again. Even a manly man, such as himself, knew a bargain when he saw one. "It's an offer we can't refuse," he admitted gravely.
Though she thought it impossible, Ryan's ardor for the pretty blonde increased two-ply.
"Time to earn those butt wipes! All those with breasts -- go with Ryan." Marty looked over the other castaways distastefully. "I'll take," he couldn't bring himself to call these candy asses men, "the rest," he grunted.
Marty didn't want to waste his time teaching the women how to fish. What would be the point? The sooner the women were voted off the island and sent back to their men, the better. "C'mon, ladies, daylight is burnin'." When Arturo happily pranced over to the men's group, Marty gave the hairdresser a shove toward Ryan and the rest of the females. "You don't need breasts to be a girl, Tinkerbell."
Arturo burst into tears, running over to the sympathetic arms of Dawn and Marva. "Pig," Dawn spat at Marty.
Marty made a point of staring at Dawn's painfully flat chest. He opened his mouth only to have Tanesha step forward and grab him by the collar, pulling his face right up to hers. "Keep your hands on your own team, honky! He may be a limp...."
Russell cringed at the word 'limp.' Damn! Why did he let his secretary send in his biographical information to the BTBC? Unreasonable bitch! But he knew that someday she would forgive his roaming eyes. And other body parts. He only hoped she'd be able to forgive her sister. And roommate. And therapist. And daughter. And the rest of her daughter's cheerleading pals.
"I've been silent long enough!" Yun-kyung shouted, attracting everyone's attention. "I cannot stand by while you commit cold-blooded murder of these helpless creatures! Some of them may be on the preparatory list as alternates for possible future consideration as protected species!"
"Shut up, Chung-King!" someone yelled at the ranting veterinarian.
"Whatever, King Kong. We're starving! I'd kill Bambi myself!" Tanesha stated unrepentantly.
Dawn licked her lips. "I want him with gravy!"
"Ooo, and I'd make homemade biscuits and peach pie for desert," Marva added helpfully.
The women's words were met with a round of appreciative moans.
"And how would you like to eat your meat, Channon?" Arturo asked saucily.
Shannon raised an eyebrow but decided to play. Her green eyes focused solely on Ryan as she answered Arturo's question. "I like mine wild. Raw even," she said in a soft, sensual voice, hoping she wouldn't blush.
Ryan's jaw sagged before she swallowed hastily. "Oh, so would I." Swaggering a step closer to Shannon, Ryan lowered her voice to a purr. "In fact, my," she paused, "mouth is watering right this second. I can just imagine the bold," Ryan's eyes slid closed, "sweet…"
"Isn't this wonderful?" Molly exclaimed, completely oblivious to the sparks between Ryan and Shannon, which now had most of the castaways squirming. "It's only by overcoming strife and working together that we will free our inner children, becoming who we were meant to be ... in this lifetime."
"Quiet, you hairy-legged hag," Marty groaned impatiently. "I'd like to kick your inner child's ass!" Damn! And it was just getting good, too. This was better than cable!
Desiree's head snapped up, and a look of pure panic crossed her face. "It's okay," Dawn soothed. "He was talking to Molly, and her legs were hairy before she came to the island."
For some reason, that seemed to pacify Desiree, and the woman returned to her near-catatonic state, muttering something about waxing. Day after day of sun, heat, and a lack of hygiene and makeup products had finally taken its toll. Soon she would have only one eyebrow!
"You were talking about food." Marty's eyes begged Ryan and Shannon to continue. They were both gorgeous and maybe they'd kiss! If God were truly a man, there would be tongue.
"Enough!" Ryan exploded. She needed some time alone with Shannon, and she needed it yesterday. In a matter of minutes, she had passed out bamboo poles and fish bone hooks, given a cursory fishing lesson, and paired up each castaway, instructing the pairs to space themselves evenly along the beach.
Yun-kyung, refusing to take part in the savagery, stalked off to go shell collecting instead.
"Jesus, this is vile." Shannon made a face as she speared the plump grub onto the end of her hook. The white creature was the size of her thumb and continued to writhe and twist as she pushed it farther up the sharp bone.
Ryan grinned proudly. She knew it wasn't a good idea to mention what excellent roughage these little guys would add to Shannon's diet. Ha! Her brothers were so wrong. She did too know how to talk to a woman! "Yeah, I guess they are kind of gross."
Shannon looked up from the grub, clearly surprised. "Really? I figured I was being a wimp, and well… that you were used to this kind of thing."
"Nah." Ryan frowned. "Just because I'm used to it, doesn't mean I don't know what's gross." Some gross tasks were simply necessary. Like sucking the venom out of an especially hairy buddy's ass after a snakebite. Ryan shuddered. It was nasty but had to be done.
Shannon tossed her line into the surf, glancing at the other castaways spread out down the beach. The nearest pair was well out of earshot. The cameras had started filming at the other end of the beach first, allowing her and Ryan a modicum of privacy. "Tell me about yourself, Ryan," Shannon prompted casually, keeping her eyes trained firmly on the water. Please don't get all nuts. I don't want you to be nuts. I don't even like squirrels.
Ryan immediately stiffened. "What do you wanna know?"
Okay, I can live with cautious. Cautious is not crazy. Shannon laid a reassuring hand on Ryan's arm, running her fingertips down the soft skin until she reached Ryan's wrist. Her eyes never left the sea. "Anything you'd like to share with me."
Ryan's chest tightened, and her palms began to sweat. She wanted to talk to Shannon. But it had just been her and Tiffany for so long! Please don't be a spy. I don't want you to be spy. "I need to ask you something. Okay?"
"Sure." Shannon adjusted her fishing pole and turned, only to find herself captured in an unwavering pale gaze that reached down deep inside her, grabbing her heart and shaking her. Hard.
"Are you working for the feds?" Ryan intently studied the verdant eyes gazing into hers. This close she would feel the lie. She was sure of it.
Shannon felt a flash of anger at whoever or whatever had made Ryan so wary. She's serious about this. The smaller woman held Ryan's gaze and answered unequivocally, "No." A pause. "I even paid my taxes late last year," she added with a smile. C'mon, Ryan.
Ryan remained unmoved. Physical attraction was one thing. They'd had that from the first moment they laid eyes on each other. But an honest friendship? Could she tell Shannon everything? About her parents' so-called accident? About her hidden community in the Kentucky hills?
Shannon's heart rate picked up. "Don't you believe me?"
Ryan suddenly found the extra fish hook, in her hands, extremely interesting. "I… ah… I think so." Liar! You know you do. Tell her!
"Good enough." Shannon nodded happily, her face creasing into a dazzling smile that crinkled the soft skin around twinkling eyes. "For now."
With her next breath, Shannon allowed her heart to lay claim to Ryan. Hell, she worked in television. She was used to crazy.
When Ryan looked up, her own heart skipped a beat, her grin unconsciously mirroring Shannon's. Oh, yeah. That attraction part was so very covered. "For now," she agreed, grasping the blonde's smaller hand tightly in hers.
Shannon leaned back against Ryan, hoping to capture more than fish this day. "Wanna hear my idea for my new book?" She easily shifted the conversation to what she figured would be safe ground. Ryan needed a little time. She could live with that, as long as it wasn't too long.
Ryan scooted closer, tucking a strand of golden, blowing hair behind Shannon's ear. "I'd love to."
"No way! They do not do that!"
"Oh yes, they do," Ryan insisted, casting their line into deeper waters and handing the pole back to Shannon. It had been over two hours and they hadn't had as much as a nibble. She knew that she and Tiffany could go for a little swim and get something. But this was supposed to be a fishing lesson. And she really didn't want to leave Shannon's side.
"There's a master list kept at the FBI headquarters and every time you click on a website it's recorded there and categorized," Ryan continued. "They keep track of everything. Credit card purchases, the books you check out from the library, your bank statements, who you talk to on your phone…"
Shannon frowned. "And why exactly would they do that?"
Ryan blinked. She opened her mouth, then clicked it shut. Damn! Why does she keep asking these logical questions? "Well, to keep track of us, of course."
Blue eyes rolled. "Duh!" Ryan snorted. "Who else? The Attorney General." Didn't Shannon keep up with any of the better news resources, like 'Guns & Ammo', 'Mercenary Today', 'Soldier of Fortune'? Ryan shook her head as if to clear it of the ridiculous thought. It's not like she's crazy or something!
Shannon set her pole down next to her and crossed her arms over her chest. "Are you trying to tell me that Janet Reno cares that I surf the 'Charlie's Angels Homepage'?"
Ryan burst out laughing. "Which Angel do you like?"
Shannon blushed, then scowled. "Like I'd tell you now," she grumbled petulantly.
"Come on," Ryan prodded, beginning to tickle the younger woman's ribs.
"Okay, okay!" Shannon began half-heartedly slapping away Ryan's hands. "I like…"
Both women's heads shot up as Shannon's pole lurched forward on the sand.
"Is that a bite?" Shannon was already starting to salivate as she tightly gripped the long bamboo rod.
"Yup," Ryan confirmed. "Whoa!"
The rod jerked forward again, this time taking Shannon with it, dragging the smaller woman several feet across the beach.
"Shit! Hold on!" Ryan covered Shannon's hands with her own, and pulled the blonde back tight against her chest, so they could wrestle the fish together. "Oh, baby! This is a big one." The survivalist's face lit with a look of undisguised glee that only came with a good hunt or knockout sex.
Shannon wanted both.
"MURDERERS! Remember Orca!!! Free Willy!!!" Yun-kyung bellowed. "The shark in Jaws was just misunderstood!" The Asian woman was running down the beach with the other castaways and a frazzled-looking Pete trailing her.
"What in the…?" Ryan looked on in shock as Yun-kyung splashed through the surf, grabbing their taut fish line. "Let go of it!" Ryan growled.
"NEVER!" cried the animal activist. Yun-kyung whipped out a slender shell she had spent the afternoon sharpening against a rock. Using the shell as a knife, she cut Ryan and Shannon's line.
Shannon stared in horror at the severed line. "BITCH!" she screamed, dropping the pole, lunging after Yun-kyung who was now trying to swim away.
Ryan, joined by the other castaways, looked on with interest as Shannon caught up with Yun-kyung and began dragging her back to shore, stopping occasionally to slap her and hold her head underwater.
Pete the cameraman shut off his camera and laid down on the beach in front of Ryan, waiting for his impending heart attack. He was worried that all this exercise had dislodged a french fry in his heart. Humans weren't meant to do so much running around. It was plain unnatural. "Are we going to let Shannon kill her?" he gasped, hoping the answer was yes. He wanted to at least take someone with him.
Ryan raised an eyebrow at Pete, who quickly shut up. God she loved a woman who could kick ass and take names!
Joan found the castaways in a particularly foul mood later that afternoon. She had spent the morning at the crew camp trying to pretend she wasn't there. Why had she taken this God-awful assignment? Had all the years in television finally eroded every last bit of her self-respect and integrity? Considering that she had had lustful thoughts toward Pete last night, the answer had to be a resounding 'yes!'
Making matters worse was the note she'd received, from Bender himself, instructing her to make the challenges 'more interesting' and to 'pump up the danger level.' Apparently, living on a deserted island surrounded by goddamn sea snakes wasn't enough. Prick. Don't see his fat ass out here anywhere.
Today's challenge should do the trick. The premise was simple. The first team to navigate their way through the jungle path to a designated clearing would win. Unbeknownst to the castaways, the jungle path was filled with traps. In addition to receiving immunity, the winners would be given a wild boar to roast. Of course, they would have to figure out how to kill the damn thing first - which should help satiate Bender's bloodlust. Note to self: Call Mom and tell her to stop watching the show.
Joan sighed. What the hell, they were insured. The contestants they had chosen wouldn't be missed by anyone - she was sure - should something really awful happen. The original sixteen castaways were much better. But then Bender had to get his Texas-sized ego involved. And now the show was just all shot to hell.
The two teams stood waiting for her just beyond the jungle clearing. The remaining six members of the Beta Team weren't looking particularly good at this point. Desiree had better hope to God no paparazzi photographer was within a hundred miles of the island. Her red hair looked like it could come out in clumps, her skin was blotchy and her eyes glassy. She kinda looked like a Tyson chicken. With hair. A picture of her now would certainly destroy her career. The rest of the castaways just looked really hungry. And horny.
Disturbingly horny. Joe and Dawn were giving each other looks that would make sheep on some Arkansas farms nervous. And Shannon was giving the exact same look to Ryan. Christ! Were all the 'nice girls' turning out to be sluts?
The Alpha Team looked to be in a bit better shape than the others - they all appeared to have eaten a meal or two while on the island. But for some reason, Yun-kyung was standing far away from the team. Her T-shirt was ripped and she was missing one shoe.
No one was talking, but something had obviously happened. Joan frowned. She'd have to wait until that evening to look at the daily footage and figure it out. Thank God for editing.
"All right! Is everyone ready for the next challenge?" Joan enthused. These people were rating-killers. Worse than the Synchronized Swimming competition the Olympics committee had included in medal competition this year. Or having Dennis Miller announcing the NFL play-by-play.
"So, whichever team loses the competition has to vote someone off, right?" Shannon asked carefully, trying to give Ryan a hint with her tone. Her eyes traveled between Ryan and Yun-kyung. Come on, Ryan, you believe in secret messages. Decode mine. Oh, yes, decode mine. I have a couple of bumps and ridges I'd like you to read.
"Yes, immunity goes to the winning team."
Marty crossed beefy arms over his chest. "What else does the winning team get?"
Groans all around.
Ryan smelled a rat. Not a physical rat, but a big, old, government rat. There's no such thing as a free meal. This was especially true in the government-subsidized media. Her gaze drifted to Shannon. Hell, it never left Shannon, except when she had to blink. The luscious blonde was looking a bit on the thin side. Ryan's eyes narrowed. Perhaps it would be best for the Beta Team to win this round.
Besides, she had a score to settle of her own. She didn't like anyone interfering with her survival lessons. Especially not when they centered on a certain delectable writer.
Yun-kyung coughed, expelling the last of the seawater from her lungs. Who knew the writer was so athletic? And she had been more than a little pissed off that no one had come to her rescue. Killers. Butchers. The whole lot of them. She had been very carefully going into the jungle every day and picking up fruit that had fallen from the trees. Mother Nature had provided for her here, as she did at home. There was no need to pick, pluck, or pierce her meals. Once she ate around the rotten parts, the fruit was pretty good. And best of all, her diarrhea was now down to twice a day!
Ryan caught Shannon's eyes. "Is your offer still good?" she asked softly.
Fuck yes! Which offer? The offer where I take you into the jungle and we have hot monkey sex? Or the offer where I take you into the ocean and we have hot monkey sex? Or the offer where we climb a tree and have hot monkey sex?
"Shannon?" Ryan asked when she didn't get an answer and the object of her affection looked like she might pass out.
"Absolutely." She puckered up for a kiss. The traditional way to seal an offer was a handshake, but she had never been a traditional girl. She also didn't give a rat's ass that the cameras were there. She had been wanting a kiss all afternoon. Now seemed like as good a time as any to get one. Fuck Bender. Well, not fuck Bender. But, rather, to hell with Bender. There. That sounded better.
"Great. See you at the finish line."
Finish line? Shannon was confused. She was sure they were talking about sex.
"I really must protest!" Yun-kyung said, struggling to her feet. "This brutal carnage must stop!"
Joan looked at her with bug eyes. "Brutal carnage?"
"Yes!" Gaining momentum, she tramped over to the vegetation. "Some of these plants might one day become endangered! Here we are, just crushing them underneath our heels! The Conservationists of the World group will want to hear about this!"
"C.O.W.?" Russell echoed, laughing at the image. That's how he envisioned all of those whacko, short, stout, hairy-armpitted, lesbian activists. They all looked the same. Was it any wonder they couldn't get a man?
Marty spat. "My God, you're a tree-hugging lunatic!"
"And this constant devouring of meat! PETA will back me up on this! Vote me off! Throw me off! But you cannot silence the voice of the animals!"
"Animals have voices?" Desiree asked, looking very disoriented. Oh wait. Never mind. She remembered Dr. Doolittle now.
"We really need to start the competition," Joan interrupted. She had to jump in and stop this before Yun-kyung started singing "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" and really making a mess of things. "Go!" Joan shouted, signaling the beginning of the competition.
All of the contestants exchanged looks, taken by surprise at the start. With the enthusiasm of lawyers attending ethics training, the teams took off into the jungle.
The teams weren't one hundred yards into the race when the ground collapsed beneath Yun-kyung and she fell into a pit. The Alpha Team and camera crew gathered around the hole and stared down at her.
"You okay?" Marva called to her. She didn't like the vet, but Marva was a good person deep down and wouldn't want her to be hurt.
Yun-kyung moved and a squishing sound was heard by the people ten feet above her. "What is in here?"
"It's elephant dung," Pete helpfully supplied. "We had it imported."
"Is there no end to the abuse?" Yun-kyung wailed, clasping her hands to her head and swaying in pain.
Shannon and the Beta Team raced past the Alpha Team, Arturo squealing with delight as he pinched Marty's ass. "Let's go, let's go, let's go!" Shannon chanted, trying to motivate her team.
Ryan smiled. Shannon was a goddess. She was going to worship at her altar. Soon. Very soon. Very, very soon.
"So, what should we do?" Marva asked Ryan.
The survivalist shrugged. "I guess we'll just have to concede this challenge."
Jason looked over at Joan who had come over to see what the commotion was about. "Can we go ahead and vote? Because I really don't want to have to find a way to get her out of that shit hole."
Pete shrugged. "It sure as hell ain't in my contract."
Joan groaned. Second note to self: drink a lot of tequila and sleep with someone tonight.
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.
Visit the Castaway website at http://www.angelfire.com/art/atcreation/castaway/index.html
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