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Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-05-06, 10:28 PM (EST) "Survivor: The Society Islands: Episode #9: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick." LAST EDITED ON 10-11-06 AT 10:53 AM (EST) ----------------------------------------------------------------- After ----------------------------------------------------------------- {Topic title: Alex vs. Nature: the aftermath.} {Okay, so I'm starting a new thread that's meant to replace the seventeen I've had to lock so far. Moderator's right, plus it gives me a chance to introduce myself to all the newbies who've joined us since last night. Hi, everybody! Please read the guidelines. Now. Before you go one step further in this post. One sentence. If you're on this word and you haven't read them yet, I can almost guarantee you'll be in trouble. What are you still doing here? Go! For the rest of you, here's where we stand on Friday morning. First: the overnight ratings are in, so say congratulations to MB, then spend the rest of the day washing your mouth out with acid: we just tied Borneo. CBS has already announced they're going to rerun the episode on Sunday for anyone who missed it, which is probably a horrible mistake just because Bruck will probably move two or six CSI versions in a fit of pique -- he gets to play lead-in for Burnett? It's officially a cold day in Hell, and he can't talk EPMB into turning the thermostat back up. Of course, because we had so many people watching, most of whom were just waiting to see what the warnings we got all week meant, we've also got people screaming at CBS about how traumatized they are by watching that footage. Because they didn't see any warnings, or didn't believe them, or, for most of them, aren't capable of reading. CBS has officially shrugged and said they did their part about forty-eight times before the episode started, including three in the last fifteen minutes before the attack: after the end of the entertainment news, before the opening credits, and after the opening credits. If you decided to ignore all of them, it's officially your problem. No lawsuit will be honored. Shut up now. And that includes the seven of you who started that 'I'm gonna sue!' thread, six of whom share the same login address. Quite the coincidence, kids. Go take a nap and try to dream up a better plan. Second: public reaction. Lots. Possibly even lots and lots. Naturally, the first scream was heard from the AFA and similar parties, also on the subject of 'How can you put this kind of footage in prime time!', but they're just choosing to disregard the existence of the warnings. It didn't come from a Bible, so they don't have to read it. (If it did come from a Bible, they just wouldn't have to understand it.) And once again, they want CBS to pull the show, to which CBS has officially shrugged a second time before narrowing The Big Eye and saying 'Do your worst'. A weak series can be pressured off the air if the network was going to cancel it anyway. Right now, we're almost at the point where a few thousand people with nothing better to do than send millions of duplicate E-mails are effectively asking CBS to cancel the Super Bowl because they can't stand the sounds of colliding helmets: for true godliness, it should be swords on shields. Not happening. The rest of the usual suspects are starting to ring in: I just watched ten minutes on CNN where people were discussing just what is and isn't appropriate for the 8-9:30 slot, and three on FOX where they're nearly at the point of forming an alliance with PETA just to get a few extra people on their side who can try to help them bring down CBS. Presumably Angela can be persuaded to lead the picket charge. One of the more interesting things to emerge from the morning is a near-total silence from our oldest battlefield front. So far, no one's really trying to blame Alex for any of this, and they just about had the war pinned on her after Episode #1. In fact, if you tune to the right channel at the right time, you're going to see something you've never seen before in connection with a reality show: public approval. CNN doesn't quite have her as the heroine who defeated a danger to her own tribe by risking her own life, but wait five minutes and maybe they'll be that desperate for a fresh adjective. Even FOX has her as 'the innocent victim of a show that went too far', and if you thought FOX would ever pull out 'innocent' in regards to Alex, I'll have whatever you're having, as long as it's not Frank's grass. And the AFA? The old links are still up -- but no fresh ones, and the originals appeared with almost suspicious speed after the cross incident. They're bashing CBS with all their real and imagined sponsor might: somehow, Alex isn't part of the most recent equation. And why? Because Connie of all people gave us some foreshadowing -- and EPMB walked us right into it, blindfolded and led by the nose. Those of you who still despise Alex with every tap of your keyboards will have trouble with this concept, but I'm asking you to try it on for size before shredding it in your own fit of pique: they're scared of her. Do you know how many people have taken down a jaguar more or less by hand? On film? With mid-eight digits of audience watching? Put all those factors together and the numbers equal 'one'. Suddenly, Alex has become someone you don't want to annoy, because she is now just what Gardener called her: the suicide special-teams linebreaker of all time, Division Reality, and if you got her angry with you, who knows what might happen? She just might use any and all of her winnings to lead a legal charge against you -- and if you don't think she couldn't find a world-class lawyer who'd work for free just to benefit from the publicity, hi! Have you read the guidelines yet? And that's presuming she wouldn't decide to avoid the court system entirely and wrestle you off the edge of another cliff. Or Cliffs. The Cause DAW is just as good as the Cause Celeb as long as the cameras are focused in that direction. And as for public support... she might actually have some. Talk about being off the map... I expect this to wear off a little by the end of the week -- still well over Connie's forecast of two seconds. Angela's reaction will not be unique: 'Sure, it happened -- but maybe it really didn't happen...' The screaming will resume, but it may not be as public. Attacks against Alex will now proceed with a little more stealth. Even PETA's highest levels -- you know the ones: the lower levels just want to make sure their pets are protected and the top ones want to pass laws that make it illegal to own pets -- are targeting someone who can't fight back: the billionaire. Because he was mad and evil and corrupt and killed all those poor innocent furry things. With Alex -- well, as Angela helpfully pointed out last night shortly before losing her mind, it's just a little bit hard to blame someone who makes the decision to fight for her own life. I've only seen three people do it so far. Oddly, they also share an IP address. Really, go figure. Keep the public reactions you see to the episode on this thread. The shouting should be mostly over by the midnight quasi-news recap on Friday. The attempted lawsuits could go on for years.} {We just tied Borneo? Which episode?} {The finale. And no, that's not a joke. The ratings matched just about down to the million. Which is why the protesters won't be able to scare out sponsors any more: no one wants to lose that kind of audience access.} {Big article by my paper's TV critic, questioning the decision to place the fight on the air. He thinks they should have pushed the episode back to ten.} {Short one for my paper's Op-Ed page. They think the series should be canceled immediately.} {I can't believe any of you still read newspapers.} {Radio discussion in drive-time... of course, it's O&A, so what they did was a skit where the jaguar clawed Alex until it had shredded her swimsuit into a bikini. You probably don't want to know what happened after that.} {Howard's in on this, too, but he's actually an Alex fan. He said he's officially asked CBS if he can go into the media rotation for post-ouster interviews when she's gone. He expects their reaction to be an extremely huffy silence. Of course, this is Howard, and it probably just means he wants to talk her into an in-studio striptease. In two words, 'Good luck.'} {Front page story, NYTimes entertainment section. Neutral stance on the airing, Alex might as well not have been there. Really, it was just an extended metaphor for Congress. Isn't everything?} {Front page, period: Star-Ledger. Cautious approval of the airing, total support for Alex.} {Well, she's the local story there -- makes sense.} {Um... I'm new, I've read the guidelines, and I guess this is where I'm supposed to post because it sort of counts as a post-show reaction, I think... I guess the moderators will have to judge. I live in New Mexico, I've got two teenage daughters, and one of them hasn't been doing so well in her first days of driving. I mean two tickets in two days. Not good for my heart or my insurance, so I decided to take a trip to the local state precinct and ask about any Scared Straight programs they might have, like 'scared into driving in a straight line'. I've got some friends down there and it's easiest to drop by after work. I decided to record the show and watch it when I got back. Well, I got there early, and I had to sit around and wait because it was sort of a busy night: people in and out a lot. But I got to watch the episode anyway, because they had a television set up in the central desk area. Why? Because I live near Mosquero and this is Trooper's precinct. It's the one he works out of and comes back to when his shift is over. We've never really met -- I've seen him around at a couple of picnics and stuff like that. I asked around and it turns out they've had the television ever since the season started, so they could keep an eye on their own. And they just kept it there after he went out. I guess it's probably a breach of regulations, but no one cares. So Trooper wasn't there -- on the roads -- and I talked to the people I wanted to talk to, and just as I was about to go, the episode started. They let me hang around and we all watched it together. And of course, once we started watching it and things started happening, no one wanted to stop. I wound up staying the whole hour and a half and then afterwards, I just hung around with my friends in the desk area, talking about it. We were a few minutes into that and Trooper walked in, fresh off his shift. (He's really good-looking in uniform.) People started going up to him as soon as he got in the door, trying to tell him about the episode, and at first he was all joking protests, talking about how they had to let him wait until he got home, he didn't want to know too early, just kidding around, but then they hit the heart of the matter and suddenly he just yelled "She did what?" I couldn't hear much of what they told him -- everyone was talking at once -- but it did get into the details. He was just standing there like he'd had a small heart attack. When they finished, I heard him say "I want to make sure I've got this right. She killed a major predator -- pretty much by hand -- with some minor assistance by a spirit guide -- it marked her -- she was the first one to eat its meat -- and now she's going around wearing an amulet made from its body?" I'm not sure what all of that meant and I don't think everyone in the office knew either because some of them looked really confused, but I remember the words exactly. A few of the ones who seemed to know what he was talking about said yes, and Trooper said he had to sit down and went to his desk, looking completely stunned. They were gathered around him, everyone was really worried. He was just silent for a minute and then he said "Kyle, your vacation to Bermuda is next week, right?" So Kyle said yes, and Trooper said "Start passing the hat and see who wants to send money. I can't do it myself because of the show's contract." They got a lot closer around him and I couldn't make out any real words, but Kyle left with this weird look on his face while muttering something about Trooper being insane to cover them. After a while, the group broke up and Trooper was just sitting there by himself, still looking shocked. So I went up to him and asked if he was okay. And he looked at me and said something really strange. "It's out of their control." So I said I didn't know what that meant, and Trooper just looked really tired. He said "Between Trina's cards and this? Everything's out of their hands..." And then it was like he woke up a little, and he really politely told me he had some paperwork to catch up on and he'd better get to it before the conversation we were having cost him a lot of money. I don't know what that meant, either. I went home. Does anyone know what he was talking about?} {...not quite the right place for it, but I think the worst you can expect is for this to be moved into its own thread. Don't worry about it.} {It sounds kind of like Trooper has at least some vestigial Amerind beliefs.} {Try again. It sounds like Trooper follows the faith of his fathers. No wonder he was getting pissed off at Connie. And his was the 'greater sin': the total rejection of everything in her holy book. Mary-Jane at least pays attention to the earlier chapters and Alex never even got to the Table Of Contents. Between his job and his physical capabilities, Trooper was Angela's first target and Connie was happy to go along with it -- just with an additional reason planted in.} {'Vacation to Bermuda'?} {I'm going to take a guess here: offshore casinos, ones that take bets on reality shows. Contestants can't place bets on themselves: inside information, contract dispute, etc. Covering them -- I think Trooper wants this Kyle to collect money from the precinct and -- brace yourself, people -- bet it all on Alex. To win. And he'll personally cover them from his own show winnings if it doesn't work out. He shouldn't have any contract problems just from advising them to try it: he wasn't on the jury and doesn't know who the Final Two was, so he's working off instinct. If Angela did it -- major issue, because she saw both of them and any advice she gives there has at least a fifty-fifty chance of working out. But Trooper should be safe. Broke after covering all those bets, but safe.} {speaking of seeing people, i'm on the football team at umich and just logging in here is probably an ncaa violation because everything else is. but i was in mr. gardener's office this morning talking to him about getting my endurance up when he got a package from ups. he looked at it, said it was from cbs, shrugged, and asked me to turn my back for a minute. i did and then he said it was okay. when i turned around, he was holding a whip. he had this really funny grin on his face and asked me if i could find him a hammer and a nail. so i ran and got one and then we hung it up on his wall next to his old team photo.} {Huh. That's the first Gardener sighting we've had, which is kind of odd: next to Tony, he's probably the most public figure in the original sixteen. Always on campus, lots of reality fans in the college groups...} {he asked us not to talk about him and the show. i used someone's else's computer to get in here. he said that if any of us were caught, it was major extra reps for whoever did it. he'd tell us about things when it was over. he's been really strict about that. he never says anything about what happened on yanini, and you can get fifteen minutes on the treadmill just for asking too much. he says we have to be patient.} {Better hope he's not lurking, because with all the details you just gave out, I think he'll be able to figure out who you are...} {oh ****} {Help! I've got Tony, Gardener, Robin, and Connie! I can't find the other five anywhere! Does anyone know where I can get them? I can get extras if you're willing to trade!} {Okay. Now what?} ----------------------------------------------------------------- ...and on the first morning after I watched myself die, I went shopping. Getting to go out and spend money is a rare event for me, but in this case, it was justified, necessary -- and covered. I needed a new winter jacket: the temperature was dropping every week and 'global warming' was threatening to turn into another one of those long-running jokes. With the check from Coleman cleared, I could finally venture out to Willowbrook and see what I could do about the problem, at least on the personal comfort level: there wasn't much I could do about global warming. And, all things considered, I could even take the bus (which probably didn't help with the warming thing.). I could walk to the mall, had done it several times, but it was a very cold Friday morning, my current jacket was on its last bits of sleeve, and the bus would be heated. Busfare cost less than five gallons of canned chicken soup for treating any inevitable virus: the bus won. The prior night's episode had been a little bit easier to watch than I'd believed it would be: I'd thought part of that came from the level of detachment which was built into the series. Not just the distance between past and present, but the barrier created by the surface of the screen, the one that cut off true reality from shows that tried to carry the name. What had happened to me had been real, unstoppably real, undeniable -- but it was now just a little bit distant. Jake had actually done a great job of covering the fight, as far as it went: the actual combat had taken something less than a minute, and the show had needed frequent intervals of slow motion to stretch it out into something slightly more horrifying. Even so, he might wind up with an Emmy nomination for the footage -- if they knew where to send it. I'd done a Google search before going to bed: no one had heard from Jake since filming had ended. I half expected him to speak up in the next few hours, get on some network and try to defend himself. There were certainly receptive audiences out there. But... ...it had been a quiet morning. Too quiet, as the cliche' went. There had been a grand total of three death threats in my Inbox -- at least for the few hundred letters I'd had time to scan that morning, multiple thousands to go, but the ratio was way down for the small sample size -- and two of them were from people swearing revenge for the jaguar. No flood of protest letters from PETA and similar agencies, nothing from the AFA and friends. My site's bandwidth was up again, but not by all that much: just the normal post-episode bump. Some orders, but I could process those over the weekend and mail them out on Monday. New Jersey was facing the coldest fall in four decades: the jacket came first. I bundled up as best I could while still retaining some ability to move, worked my way down the stairs, out onto quiet streets -- just past rush hour, schools in session, too cold for anyone to be out unless they really had a reason -- and made my way to the bus stop. My first bus ride since returning to Haledon. Step into the two-and-a-half wall shelter and Haraiki would have loved to have had even this much on Day One, ease onto the bench, feel the first waves of cold from the metal seat start to burrow into my rear and legs -- -- and saw myself a few feet away. I blinked. It was still there. I'd made the front page of the Star-Ledger. The shot was a direct capture from the show: me on my back at the Cliffs, left arm thrust up to hold the jaguar off, just before the slash. The headline read Has Reality TV Become Too Real? A quick move got me close enough to read the small portion of the story that was visible above the fold in the machine's window. Network responsibility. CBS sprinkling the warnings all over the airwaves, including in their radio ads. Some talk about the ratings, which seemed really high -- and continued somewhere in the interior. Fifty cents, please. Which I passed on spending, because the paper had an online edition and there was also a chance someone had left a copy on the bus. Okay. I didn't expect it to make the front page, but okay... Jersey girl: I'd realized there was a chance it would make the paper, but -- well, it really hadn't been on a conscious level. Something arguably major happened in my life: maybe someone will consider it news. Someone had. But to have it on the front page of the main paper -- TV column, sure, lead off the entertainment section, could happen, but the front page overall? Weird. It must have been a really slow news day. I wondered if I'd made the news channels again. Without cable, I didn't have the most ready way to see for myself -- and my morning television viewing had been focused on someone else. She hadn't exactly disappointed me, but I hadn't been expecting that much to begin with. ----------------------------------------------------------------- {Topic Title: Angela on The Early Show.} {We've talked about Angela possibly running for office before this, and in case you missed her almost-non-appearance on CBS this morning, she was basically warming up for it there. The following two words comprise about eighty percent of what she said during the entire segment: 'No comment.' No joke. That's what Angela told Julie, over and over. She even said it to a couple of the America's Questions that came in.} {Angela? Not talking in a public forum? That would be like -- well -- like Robin not talking, period. You're telling me she didn't use the segment as a platform to promote her views?} {No, because that was most of the other twenty percent. She kept trying to get a few words in for her services, beliefs, political stances... Some of them did slip through because Julie's way too weak an interviewer to stop someone once they've found a way in, but that old pre-composed question list kept coming back to haunt her. Here's the most telling ones. Have you spoken to Tony since you left the show? No comment. How do you feel about having essentially played him like a low-bass wind instrument: your air pushed through his brain? No comment. Do you have any regrets about what you did on the show? No comment. Starting to get the idea? Julie finally did ask her if she was going to make any contributions -- not in those words, of course -- and here's Angela's exact reply. "My contract said I had to appear on the show. It didn't say anything about having to talk." So the season made that much of an impression on her: she's learned to look for loopholes.} {*sigh* I expected better. Not from Julie, of course: that's always a wash. But I was really hoping for a few non-apologetic words on the Tony/Angela faked relationship.} {Better put Angela first if you're talking about it being faked.} {I live in Tony's most recent media zone -- his AAA club -- and they interviewed him a lot after games, same as they would any player. He actually had a halfway decent year -- not good enough to be called up in September, but maybe with a little spring training flash and dazzle, you know they'll invite him just for the publicity... Anyway, there was an understanding in place: they could talk about his performance on the field, his hopes, his dreams, his happiness over getting the coupon to the local hamburger house just for having appeared on the postgame show -- but not about the series. So he's basically never mentioned Angela, Yanini, or anything whatsoever since he got back and got promoted to this level. Everyone knew he wasn't seeing anyone, but we all thought he was waiting for the series to wrap up so he could get back together with Angela.} {And now he knows it was all a con job on her end. Wonder how he's taking it?} {Don't know -- season's over: he went home. Small-town Idaho. There's probably a hundred Internet connections in town and zero people willing to post about him through them. Tony's as protected as anyone can be right now -- at least until Jeff hits him with the hard questions.} {Which will be at the Reunion -- with Angela right on the stage with him. That could get really ugly.} {You could pick some things up just from the tone on the 'No comments'. Harshest when asked about Tony, regrets, and -- this is interesting -- how her business was doing, which got a really strong one. At a guess, she may have had some clients drop her after that Evil Overlord speech in Episode #7.} {I take it getting any details on the Final Two was a loss.} {Pretty much. She didn't really talk about the show at all. About the only things she said there were after the Secret Scenes -- two: an unedited look at Jake's filming right after the attack, and as promised, Alex handing Gardener the idol. Which was a total rip-off: a shot of Alex giving it to him, some cute stuff where he was trying to figure out where to hide it, end of scene. So count that alliance as officially revealed if you want to, but I think that goes back to the latest discussion on the G/A thread. As far as Angela's commentary there went -- now that she's seen the footage, she believes everything Alex said about the fight. And yes, she accepts that Alex gave Gardener the idol -- really angry on this one -- found it on her own, passed it to Gardener of her own free will. Totally accepts it, or was willing to fake it. Visibly pissed off about it and unable to fake that. Came in wearing a really dignified business suit, the young company owner out to make a good impression before begging for that first loan, but came off as someone who still isn't over what happened to her, possibly never will be, and the last thing she wants to do is talk about it. It was actually worse than Denadi, who just wanted to get on with her life. Angela wants to put the eternal privacy seal on those twenty-four days and never have anyone even think about violating it. Talk about your hollow wishes...} {I just went to her website -- business, not personal -- and there isn't a word about the show on there. Not even a notice that she is, was, or ever even thought about being a contestant.} {That's a change. I was there right after the show started, and she had a notice right on the front page: watch her on CBS! What happened there?} {At a guess, I think she got a look at her own edit.} {Or she knew there was no point in denying her contestant status while the show was still going and she might be able to use it for something, but as soon as her part ended, back away as soon as possible...} {How do you think Angela's going to do as a jury member?} {That's going to be another thread -- probably started this morning, now that the jury assembly is officially under way -- but at a total guess, she'll try to make it look like she's being logical while she's actually acting out of pure emotion. But that's a guess. We know Gardener calms down if you give him a few minutes -- hours -- days... Angela's a question mark. Maybe she'll settle things internally and make a cold, rational decision. It's just hard to believe because of her Early Show performance: I hate this, I don't want to talk about it, I'll be damned if I give you five seconds more than what my contract called for. Maybe she made the 'right' decision at the time and she regrets it now, but...} {The giant question mark now goes over Tony's head. Angela's out of the area, and thanks to Mary-Jane and Alex passing on the EO speech, all of Turare knows what was happening to him. Can they convince him that he was being played? And if they do, how does he react? Swings out of the Haraiki alliance and gives Turare a fifth vote out of pure disgust?} {It's possible if they convinced him -- I'm just not sure anyone can. Tony may have really thought Angela was in love with him.} {This isn't Bashers, so I can say this: poor guy. Only if that's true, but if it is, a million dollars may not be enough to buy him a healed heart.} {At least he'll be the most resistant to golddiggers.} {I don't get it. Why are all you people so hard on Angela and so easy on Mary-Jane? She was essentially doing the same thing to Frank!} {Mary-Jane apologized. She has a solid moral center, even if it starts a little to one side of the true radius point. This far and no further. Has Angela said a single word of 'Sorry' to Tony? No. Angela had the perfect opportunity today and passed up on it. As soon as Frank was out, Mary-Jane used her vote confessional to do nothing but say how sorry she was for having played the flirt card. And now we're at the editing thread again: M-J seems to actually care about people. Maybe she wants to be a cold-blooded seduction machine. And she's not bad at the seduction part. But when it comes to not feeling anything about her actions, she very much sucks. Crying herself to sleep in the hammock... most contestants would have been in mourning for themselves, and M-J was letting the waterworks loose because she'd screwed over herself, Alex, and Turare by making the wrong decision. Possibly even in that order. She wants to go as far as she can, she wants to win -- but she honestly regrets some of the things she's been trying to get there. Angela's smarter? Sure, no problem: Angela's smarter, the better player, and the strong strategist. Mary-Jane's the better person.} {Don't make me take this thread to Fanatics.} ----------------------------------------------------------------- The bus was almost empty: just the driver, who gave me a very funny look when I got on -- I thought he might have half-recognized me in the shadows of the hood -- and three passengers dressed in mall work clothes, who didn't even get that far. It took a while to warm up, and I was able to leave the hood up for nearly the entire ride before exiting out the back door, well out of sight. But keeping it up in Willowbrook was out of the question: the mall is kept very warm -- you can't show off the latest fashions under a thick sweater, and that's at least half the reason to go there in the first place -- and wearing anything over a medium-thickness outer layer is begging for an overheat-based faint. So the jacket came off as I went in at the food court end, slung over my arm and destined for the Goodwill bin as soon as the new one was in place -- returning to whence it came. That meant people could identify me, and I hadn't been in this public a setting since the series had started. A mall was a major step up from a supermarket, even on a slow Friday morning when the stores were just opening. I was fully expecting to be recognized. After what had been aired last night, I was even expecting people to come up and ask questions. I knew I was going to get a lot of extra practice in explaining the terms of my contract to people... I was not expecting someone to be looking for me. "Alex -- Alex -- damn it, where's Alex? How can she not be here? Stupid distributors!" Willowbrook has a newspaper, magazine, and candy kiosk sitting in the middle of the food court: something to read as you sit over your reheated mass-produced foodlike substance, plus a few treats that may have slightly less preservative chemicals holding them together. The desperate search for my presence was coming from a slim black woman, college age, bent over a box and muttering to herself. "They had to know she was the one they were going to want... bet all the Alex stuff wound up in San Francisco where no one's going to care..." I gradually slowed my breathing back to a normal rate. Okay... I'm probably not being stalked... What was in that box? I tried to get closer, inching forward to get into range for seeing without being seen -- but the woman's body was blocking most of the box. I had to either trade distance for risk or find a better angle. She was still muttering. "Sure, Mary-Jane, endless amounts of Mary-Jane... Yeah!" She whipped a magazine out of the box, and for the second time in less than an hour, I was looking directly at myself -- with Azure sitting on my left shoulder. The picture had been taken during the walk to Tribal Council on Night Twenty-Four: I could see the bulge of the false idol in my pocket. (The bandage was hidden under my blouse, and it looked like some computer work might have been done to cover any fabric distortion. The false idol had either been rejected or dismissed -- I knew to look for it: anyone else might decide it was a random rock.) Gardener had been just ahead of me, Robin directly behind. Walking calmly, trying to make it look like I knew I was safe, trying so hard to believe that I was... I had just enough time to read Nine collectible covers this week! before she slapped it down on the floor and brought out the next one: Gary. "Oh, great -- three of these in a row..." And now I got to read the headline: Survivor's Back! And in smaller print: Will It Be -- Gary? Another sound of triumph, and another copy of my cover emerged. Sure enough, Will It Be -- Alex?. Followed by Will It Be -- Tony? Nine collectible covers that couldn't be bothered to come up with nine variations on the question. I've got to get to the bookstore. I wondered what kind of coverage they were giving us. Maybe it was one of those articles where they had a professional odds-maker quote the chances for every one of us, which would not stick to a strict one-in-nine format. Angela: zero in several million... TV Guide couldn't have known about the ouster, or they would have pulled the cover and left it at a rejected one-in-eight. They're probably not happy about this, but there's nothing they can do. Or maybe they had known and the Angela cover was one in every five thousand copies: have fun searching, or just pay five hundred dollars on eBay! The woman was still muttering to herself: it sounded like she was having trouble making a complete set. Robin was refusing to put on an appearance. Robin might have bought up half the local copies. She was probably searching through every newsstand in the Bronx, trying to spot her own face, autographing copies for anyone who asked. Robin loved the spotlight, the stage, the chance to be seen... I wasn't quite as eager for the experience. Maybe I can just sneak past her. I started to swing out in a wide curve, keeping one eye on her so I could accelerate if needed -- -- and too late: she turned to look at the next box. That was all it took. "Wait -- are you --" and then "Alex? You're really -- can I see the --" She stopped, seemed to catch herself. "What are you doing here?" Which didn't quite come out as if I had no right to be in the area: it somehow wound up sounding like she didn't expect me to be doing something as common as mall shopping. Private appointment-only meetings with fashion designers in their exclusive Manhattan outlets, sure, but malls? Stooping too low. Carefully, "Buying a new winter jacket." Maybe she knew who was having a sale. She glanced at my left shoulder, almost as if she was expecting to find Azure there -- then confirmed it. "Um... I've gotta ask -- did you get to bring her with you?" Given the location of the check, there was only one 'her' possible there. The spot of her next glance gave me the probable next question before it was asked. "No." I could freely admit this and stay within the bounds of the contract. "Jeff took her after I left. We'll see each other at the Reunion." Azure had been with me to the end: Azure would be with me on stage for the 'as several months pass' transition shot. "It's too cold for her here anyway -- she's a tropical bird." "Oh -- yeah, that makes sense." Timidly, "Um... can I see the scars?" Oh, for... There are days when it's absolutely no comfort to be right. Actually, that's most of them. "Sorry -- too covered." Too many layers -- more than one -- too much effort to expose them even if I really wanted to, and despite the thoughts of the other day, I really didn't want to. But there went the itching again... Topic change. "How many people have you found so far?" A pair of males -- college students, both wearing WPC jackets -- walked by us. The right-side one spotted me as he passed, and his jaw dropped. What was going on today? "Just five... most of the box is Mary-Jane." With a brief look of disgust, "Some random distribution. You'd think they'd realize they needed to ship more copies of a contestant's cover to their home state..." And a sigh as three women went by on the left -- and then stopped, staring. This was starting to become just a little bit uncomfortable. "Look... if it's not too much trouble... would you mind autographing a copy?" She quickly dug down until she found one with my picture on it. "I've got a pen... and if you could make it out to Karen..." If I said no, she'd probably abandon her post and follow me through the mall. And the longer I stayed in one place, the more people were gathering to watch -- there were nine now. "Sure -- I guess." Anything that would get me out free and clear as fast as possible. I approached with caution and had to go around three bodies to do it: fifteen people... She handed me the issue and a pen. I took both, signed it -- To Karen: I'm guessing you're going to wind up buying this copy: Alex Cole -- put a little #3 on it, and gave both items back. Karen quickly read the inscription. "What's with the number?" Oh, right. "It's the third show-related autograph I've signed." Given the hour, shouldn't the mall be a lot emptier than this? Or was it just that everyone was coming in through the food court and stopping right here? A little confused, "You sell books, right? Don't you sign them?" "Once in a while, if someone asks..." Which was happening a lot more lately. Can we please end this? "Look, I've really got to get going --" And then, from behind me, "Can you sign my copy?" From somewhere to the left, male, deep voice, angry. "What's wrong with you people? Haven't you been watching the show? Why would you want anything she signed?" Same side, with a mocking tone. "Careful... you're messing with someone who killed a jaguar by hand..." The deep voice again, totally taken out of its element. "...she did what?" Still mocking, "You missed last night's, didn't you? You're in for a nasty shock when your TiVo finally unloads." One of the college students, "How many Alex covers do you have in that pile? I'll take two." Karen shook her head. "There were only four in this box -- unless I have better luck with the next one, it'll have to be one per customer." "Maybe the bookstore?" someone else proposed. "We can all follow her..." I desperately looked around. 'All' was now over thirty people. "They've got to have a bunch of copies." Is there any chance that if I explain this in detail, they'll leave me alone? There was always the 'run like hell' option. Of course, given the sheer number of people, the odds were very good that one or more would be fast enough to catch me. "I really just came to buy a coat." It wasn't enough detail: from the crowd (which could now be accurately described as one), a female voice, gruff. "I guess she thinks she's too good for normal people." Younger, high-pitched: "It'll just take a few minutes." There were more than enough people to block the exits, I couldn't fight my way through... Maybe the only way out of this is to give them what they want... I sighed. Several people looked very displeased by it. "Honestly, I just showed up to shop." I felt like holding up my old coat and giving it the full this-is-our-sponsor rotation display: see, I really need a new one! "But I guess I can sign whatever copies Karen has -- I just don't have all day to stand here doing it. I have to get back and do some work." On the strip, on commissions, on the book layout, on forcing steady breathing when crowds basically showed up out of nowhere... "How about the bookstore?" The same person who'd proposed it in the first place. And from somewhere near the back of what was now a very thick crowd, several of whom were showing up just to see what all the fuss was about, "Hey -- do you still have that claw necklace?" I was just about at the point of wishing for someone to shoot me. Preferably Jake: six hours of sleep, headache, and no one would wait around that long for me to wake up. "I really can't answer questions --" in a louder voice "-- because of my contract, which I can tell you about. If anyone's got five million dollars to pay my penalty fee, I'll be happy to give you the full rundown. All I can do is sign a few magazines." Followed by a run for the stores, a dash for the bus, and possibly locking myself into the apartment for the rest of the week. What on Earth was going on here? This was insane! "And I really need to start shopping, so..." I edged closer to Karen. If all else failed, I could try to hide inside the kiosk and hold people off with shaken-up soda cans. Eat foaming caffeine, foul villains! "If you can just give her a minute to sort through the rest of the copies..." Karen, naturally: "Umm... really five million dollars?" For the rest of the month. "Really." "Oh..." She rallied. "Look -- can everyone give her a path?" Escape route, preferably -- wrong. "Let her sit at that table -- I'll start bringing copies over." Thoughtfully, "Maybe someone can run up to the bookstore and see what they've got..." If I ran, they'd chase me. If I fought my way out, they'd sue me. If I sat down and gave them fifteen minutes, there was a tiny chance they'd leave me alone afterwards. I sat. Karen started checking through the second box as people argued about spots in the rapidly-forming line. And then someone said the fatal words. "Hey, wasn't she on the front page of the Ledger this morning?" -----------------------------------------------------------------   Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Subject     Author     Message Date     ID    I Thought It Was Always The Candles... Estee 10-06-06 1    RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... cahaya 10-07-06 2  I Thought It Was Always The Candles... Estee 10-13-06 3    RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... Colonel Zoidberg 10-13-06 4    RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... cahaya 10-14-06 5    RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... Belle Book 01-11-09 26  I Thought It Was Always The Candles... Estee 10-18-06 6  I Thought It Was Always The Candles... Estee 10-20-06 7    RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... Belle Book 02-22-10 28  I Thought It Was Always The Candles... Estee 10-23-06 8    RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... vince3 10-23-06 9        RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... cahaya 10-24-06 10    RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... Colonel Zoidberg 10-24-06 11        RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... Estee 10-24-06 12    RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... cahaya 10-24-06 16    RE: I Thought It Was Always The Can... Belle Book 01-11-09 27  What did Gardener offer Connie? rasslinmomma 10-24-06 13    RE: What did Gardener offer Connie? michel 10-24-06 14    RE: What did Gardener offer Connie? xwraith27 10-24-06 15        RE: What did Gardener offer Connie? AyaK 10-25-06 17            Just for the record: Estee 10-26-06 18                So... AyaK 10-26-06 19                    RE: So... Estee 10-26-06 20                        EBS website? AyaK 10-27-06 21                            RE: EBS website? Estee 10-27-06 22                                RE: EBS website? AyaK 10-27-06 23                                    RE: EBS website? Estee 10-27-06 24                                        Colby and Tina AyaK 10-27-06 25

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Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-06-06, 09:26 PM (EST) 1. "I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Part II" LAST EDITED ON 10-16-06 AT 11:28 AM (EST) {Topic Title: TV Guide Trading Post} {I think I may have a misprint copy. They're listing Angela's odds to win as one in four.} {Bet the editors aren't happy... all MB had to do was give them who was left for the week of publication, given that the issue is now generally released on Fridays.} {One of my local supermarkets puts theirs out on Thursday afternoon. The show couldn't take the chance. Angela had to be in the article or we would have had an instant spoiler that she was gone. It's like a major book or DVD release: something always leaks out before the official opening starts.} {Okay. I'm in D.C. This is Gary's home turf. Why can I not find a single Gary cover in the entire district? I'll trade anyone except Angela for a Gary. I can't find an Angela.} {Dude, no one can find an Angela.} {I can hook you up with a Gary if you've got a Tony, who is strangely unavailable in Idaho...} {Anyone got a spare Alex?} {I've not only got one, it's autographed. Look at this and then choke on that!} {How'd you do that?} {That's her handwriting... major score.} {She was at Willowbrook -- local mall. Not a formal autograph session or anything. She kept saying she was just there to shop for a coat and she had to get going, but people were basically raiding every magazine rack for a five-mile radius. You know how it goes: someone texts a friend, they make a call, another person gets sent to raid the 7-11, and suddenly you've got half the area crowded into one food court.} {How much was she charging? DAW...} {She wasn't.} {Maybe she didn't think of it.} {I was there too. A friend called me and I got off my UPS route in time to catch the end of it. She looked really tired and -- well, maybe a little bit irritated. She recognized me, too. Asked if one wasn't enough, then signed my copy. There were still people in line after me, but she only took about a dozen more and then said she really had to start shopping before it got too late to catch the bus back. Plus her hand was starting to hurt. I offered her a ride, but she said she'd be okay and then just tried to get out of the area as fast as possible. Left a lot of muttering people behind her.} {Just checked eBay -- guess where most of the non-mutterers posted their copies?} {Um... this is kind of my fault. I run the magazine stand at Willowbrook, and when I saw her, she told me she was just shopping. I asked if she'd sign a copy for me, and by the time she did that, she was sort of trapped by all the people that had come in and recognized her... Mall security was really good about it: they just set up some barriers to herd the line through. But she got stuck there for a while. Once people started going for the newspapers, we had a constant supply of material, and then there was just no escape.} {Heya, newbie! What's 'a while'?} {Three hours.} {Ow...} {Ye gawds. She's still numbering them.} {I feel really bad about this. I kept trying to apologize to her, but she'd give me these -- well -- it was kind of the same look she gave Gardener when he tried to get her out of the challenge, only a lot more tired. And some people got in line just to be rude to her, but it didn't last long: she just gave them an even harder look, and a lot of them took off right there. She had to keep explaining that she couldn't answer questions, and some people wanted doodles on their copies...} {She's not the only one who got trapped. A friend just sent me E-mail, and I quote: 'Too bad you didn't drop me off at the audition. I just ran into Mary-Jane. She's completely recovered all her weight loss from the show, but she's a lot less lively. She looked kind of tired -- maybe she was at a party last night. As soon as people started to recognize her in line, they did the spiderweb routine and had TV Guide issues brought in by the truckload. M-J was stuck signing them for nearly two hours before they finally called her number to go in.' Rotten little... I had kids to deliver!} {eBay confirms: lots of M-J signings up too.} {Does anyone keep things any more?} {What kind of audition?} {What you'd expect. A modeling job.} {And she's standing in line? You'd think she'd have an agent by now.} {Maybe it's the whole Jewish thing.} {You don't think agents aren't Jewish?} {What is this, Sighting Week? That's the first one on M-J, and you'd think she'd have a fairly high public profile...} {Blonde in California. Call it camouflage.} {Is this where we discuss the article? I haven't been able to find a copy yet. What was in it?} {It was sort of a flashback, if you remember the earliest coverage pieces. There was a quick statement by a different magazine writer about each contestant, a quote of their odds, and -- this was the interesting part -- a different drawing of each contestant done by a noted comic book artist: TV Guide commissioned them just for the occasion. (To give you the idea: McFarlane did Gary, Bagley had Phillip, Wagner did Alex & Azure...) There was also a quick piece about how the show was back in the ratings, water-cooler talk, some speculation on what might happen next that's weaker than what we do every day.} {Hey! I got the Gary drawing on my front cover!} {Oh, great. Chase issues.} {To give you the idea, this was Gardener's statement -- and remember, when this was written, the Pagonging was still in effect. 'Is it possible for anger to be charming? Gardener's solid work ethic and highly -- for lack of a better word -- forceful personality has been unexpectedly winning fans around the world. The current leader of the Turare alliance has to be seen as the first and best victim for any Haraiki vote -- no Immunity, no idol, no chance -- but he's as intelligent as he is strong, and the general feeling around the office is that if there's a way out of this, he might just find it. You count Gardener out at your own peril. And every time he wins a challenge, he'll take someone else out at their own expense. Odds of winning: 25-1.' And then a great quasi-manga rendition by someone named Perry.} {Odds across the board kind of don't matter at this point with Angela gone, but second-best was Robin at 6-1.} {Just went online... the original art for each of the chase covers -- and God help the collectors: there are twenty of each out there, so hang onto that Gary! -- will be given to the portrayed contestant at the Reunion. Wow. Alex may actually blink. She's the one most likely to know all the names, and having Wagner draw her has got to come across as something special.} {Who's Wagner?} {Just wait until you see the art. It's the most stylized in the group.} {Three questions. Who is Kieth, why can't he spell his own name right, and what on earth has he done to Robin's chin?} ----------------------------------------------------------------- {Topic Title: Gardener & Alex: Hidden Alliance?} {Close the books, kids: it's over. They're allied. Alex gave Gardener the idol. You don't do that with someone you're not working with. End of story. End of thread. Can we get a lock on this monstrosity, please?} {I'm still not sure. I think Alex would have given the idol to anyone on Turare who was that night's target. The whole purpose of her move was to get the tie back. Pray M-J wouldn't make another stupid move, hope like hell it was a solid four against four, spend the next three days trying to prove she was wrong by swinging any Haraiki, and try to beat the tiebreaker if that didn't work. Gardener was getting the votes, so Gardener got the idol. She would have given it to Mary-Jane or Gary if either of them had been going out that night.} {Agree. Right now, Alex's alliance is the three other remaining Turare members, and her goal was to keep their total numbers at four. Remember, she hasn't been using the idol just to keep herself safe: she's using it to further her position in the game. Three more days did her no real good at all: as soon as she lost an Immunity challenge or didn't come up with the idol, instant mercy vote. But give it to Gardener, bounce Angela, and then she's got a bonus three days on top of it: once again, she can't be the primary target for Haraiki's alliance at the tie vote. Gardener, probably -- everyone tends to think physical first. And that's presuming Haraiki isn't shattered by this -- which was Alex's likely goal from cutting Angela out. Take off the head, see where the body parts fall.} {I think that was a revenge hit. You lied to Mary-Jane, I'm removing you. She could have targeted Tony if she was worried about challenges, and Angela would have been weaker without him... Maybe Alex was even taking revenge for Tony and the way Angela played him.} {Maybe Alex has a crush on Tony?} {No. And hell no. Remember the first Alex & the idol thread? I made a nice, long, monster post there that I'd like to call your attention to, but here's the latest (and shorter) version of it: Alex is dangerous. Hopefully people are starting to believe that now -- or does she have to kill a lion just to get your attention? But we're talking about Alex's gameplay, and you can follow that statement with this one: Alex is detached. Look at the way she's been edited on the show. Alex seldom displays much in the way of emotional reactions, and we've had confirmation from the field that this is the way she acts in real life. She's generally very calm, very controlled. When she does get angry, it's very quick, somewhat intense -- but even then, it's like someone's pointing a cosmic Mute button at her. Those of us on Survivor Gold see a little more. She's very slowly been loosening up there, reacting just a bit more in the relative privacy of confessional -- but even within the grove, the palette doesn't have a full color spread on it. Someone on the Master Love List ranked her at #6 last week with the following comment: 'It would be #3 if she would just smile once.' We don't see Alex in a state we'd normally perceive as 'happy'. Or content. Or... you get the idea. I think the most we've seen from her is quiet satisfaction. Virtually all of the positive emotions are missing from her resume', and the negative ones come briefly and in understated fashion. But that means Alex doesn't let the game affect her. Pettiness tends to rule the day on this show: yesterday's minor insult is today's rallying cry at the vote. Alex doesn't act that way. Every move she makes seems to be about the game as a larger picture. Get further. Try to clear the next vote. Solidify here, disrupt there. Alex didn't get rid of Angela because Angela offended her: she did it because Angela was the leader and she wanted to see what happened with the brains gone. Personally, I think Haraiki will rally around Phillip -- but that's another subject. When you watch Alex, always ask yourself 'What game consequence will this action have?' Because that's the way she's playing. It takes a unique mind to make the decision that risked that fall off the cliff -- but it was the only way out. Find four ways to solve a problem, list them, then watch Alex take a fifth option without ever thinking of the other four... Dangerous. Detached. And Final Four.} {You forgot one d-word, and I'm going to be the first person to throw it out. For the most part, I agree with you: Alex does what she sees as necessary to get ahead in the game. And her detachment helps her there: she may actually have some small bit of an outsider's perspective remaining while being inside the thing. I'm on Survivor Gold, and I remember something she said: that she's seen just about everyone come and go -- mostly go. She's a fan, and there was a while when I even checked the logs to see if anyone here had been missing for the filming period. She's studied the show, she knows the game, and she's playing it in a way we've never completely seen before. But there's a missing factor. Alex doesn't react the way we expect most people to. There are times when Alex doesn't react at all. And then there are ones when she reacts the wrong way to the wrong thing. She doesn't show positive emotions. She seems to have a problem with physical contact. She never laughs. She never smiles. Alex is damaged. Maybe this ties into her pre-show life as a orphan. Maybe it's Trina's first card: the nine of swords is about as nasty as the deck gets. Or it's more of what we heard on the postal video: people trying to fix her up with abusers just to see her abused, which is something a few of our hardcore Alex-haters could still get behind. But whatever caused it, she is walking wounded in more ways than the claw damage. She's functional. She isn't a borderline personality -- not in the way I understand the term. She can get through life in the real world without missing many beats and most of the time, no one probably suspects her of anything beyond having a very low-key presence. But there's something missing or broken inside. Never celebrates. Never rejoices. Never connects. I do think Alex could make Final Four at this point. She even has Jeff's classic one-in-eight chance to win -- maybe a little more. But if she did -- if the final vote revealed had her name on it and Jeff declared to the world that this was the Sole Survivor -- do you think that would make her happy? Even a twitch at the corners of her mouth? Anything at all? I wish there was someone other than Julie doing the post-vote segments. I hope Howard does get into the media rotation, because he's a hell of an interviewer when he wants to be, and maybe he could get to the core of it if he doesn't decide to spend the entire time doing cleavage jokes instead, which would just get her to walk out sixteen seconds in. There is something very wrong with Alex. It's not affecting her gameplay in a negative manner. It may even be making her stronger. But there's still something wrong... ...and I don't believe being on Yanini can fix it. If anything, she may just finally finish falling apart.} {Part of me wants to tell you to take that to Bashers.} {And the rest?} {Is starting to wonder if you're right.} {She's playing a character on a show. Some people do that. They put who they are aside and put on a mask for us.} {Yeah. Sure. Some people do. But now she's off the stage -- and the mask is still there...} --------------------------------------------------------------- Before --------------------------------------------------------------- {Welcome to Week #9, where the only warning being flashed on our screen is 'Tie Ahead. Beware Of Severe Voting Damage.'} {And now, the quickly-becoming-mandatory prayer: please let us have no more than two thousand screaming newbies join up after this episode. Thank you.} {Talk about unknown territory -- hello to all the first-timers on our little update thread! Yes, we talk fast. Some of us even type faster than that. And since complaints about the show used to be so generic, I personally had several macros ready to run that just needed a few contestant names changed here and there to make things fit. But that was back in the day when we had a pretty good idea what was going to happen in any given episode. Those days are sort of dead. Dead like a dead black jaguar. Really dead.} {And what do we know this week?} {We know the preview analyzers are about ready to storm the studios and demand something in the way of a revealing shot that doesn't include Mary-Jane and a slightly different meaning. Basically, we have exactly what Jeff told us last week, plus a little more. The Reward for this episode is an overnight trip to the mansion, but we don't know who wins. We don't even know anything about that challenge. We do know something about Immunity -- it's going to be another edition of Jeff's Favorite Bedtime Stories. And of course, we have people scrambling to find someone who'll be a big enough sucker to swing their vote. Or just Robin, because her Final Three promise is now officially toast.} {Reposting the Sucks riddle for in-episode hopes of solving it: 'So what's a usual suspect?' Which makes it sound like something unusual happens, but it's not to the person we'd normally think it would be. To me, that translates to Alex getting to sit this one out after her wild & crazy focus episode last week. Good. If anyone needs to take one off...} {At least we're making progress on the other riddles. Not finishing what you start probably meant Angela starting the Pagonging process and then getting turned into Alex's Victim Of The Week. (I know nearly everyone says she doesn't act personally, but bad things tend to happen to anyone who ticks her off.) And the first one -- blood shed twice, once in struggle, once in tears -- Alex is now the first half of that. If the fight at the Cliffs wasn't blood shed in struggle, nothing is -- or we really, really don't want to see the other options. But she can't be the second half of it, because who can see Alex crying?} {Not me. I think it comes down to how we define 'blood' the second time around. Blood ties -- blood brothers -- blood bond -- what's the strongest alliance in the game? Phillip and all of Haraiki? I can see Phillip crying if the occasion called for it. Maybe if someone broke their word to him...} {He might just grin and bear it. 'That's the game! See ya!'} {Not if his father was involved -- but for that to happen, he'd have to be out, or Final Two and someone refuses to go along with him to the beach.} {Or he just cries when he empties the urn.} {Makes sense. Probably right after the wind blows the ashes back in his face.} {Alex doesn't have strong enough connections to anyone -- not even Gardener, who happens to be my favorite candidate for this riddle. I think Audrey is going to show up at the family visit Reward and hand him a set of divorce papers.} {You know, that's possible? She probably would have been his visit choice -- if they're doing it this year and he makes it that far...} {No indications from Ann Arbor that they're back together, but we now know he's getting a degree of community protection on an 'or else' basis. That poor guy never did post again. Probably too sore to type.} {Recap! Oh, and the following sentences may be too intense for some newbies to read, so feel free to turn away because if you try to sue me for trauma, I'll kill you before I go to court, do you hear me? Kill you! -- ahem. Anyway, with Angela's hostile takeover well under way, she began a few power plays around camp. Complete domination of Tony: standard. Lie to Robin: expected. Try to tell Alex she didn't exactly consider her as intelligent: repeat. This sent Alex out of camp, and -- brace yourselves! -- oh, they just showed the first leap... Well, stuff happened. Lots of stuff. If you want a complete recounting, there's a literal blow-by-slash in the summary. Alex brought back the most unique dinner in series history at the cost of nearly taking herself out of the game, but hey, it's only a little permanent scarring: nothing to worry about, even if Angela just said 'mercy vote' and what does that mean, anyway? So we didn't get two medivacs in one season, but we did get two challenges in one day. First, the KFC Reject-Off (actual retail value: $500 a month for the lifetime of the holder -- thanks, TV Guide!), and then the Underwater Hunt For Stuff, which Tony won because it was a ballpark game he used to play from his most popular position on the team: dunk tank sitter. But wait -- make that three challenges in one day! We're playing Race For The Idol, and Alex has just enough left in the tank to win! (It would have helped Robin to not have most of her fuel going to the jaw.) So Alex is safe, Gardener's out -- oh, wait. Alex has the idol. That means something weird is going to happen. Like Alex suddenly not having the idol. Let's follow the bouncing idol -- hey, it landed on Gardener! And now Angela's bounced out? And we're at four-four? And absolutely no one on the voting thread got this right? Plus half the PTTE lists in the universe self-destructed? Whatever. The ultimate point of all this remains that we're at four-four. Eight players remaining. At least we know that much. And with that said, watch this be the week where Burnett brings the Outcasts up the path -- and they're from Thailand. I don't know about you, but I'd rather take on another jaguar.} ----------------------------------------------------------------- During ----------------------------------------------------------------- Laundry hurts. The heat wave started to break up overnight: it's cooler this morning, at least to the point where I can think about pushing my sleeves down again. (It'll take another ten degrees before I can actually do it.) The air feels a little better against my skin, which just means that I can now consider moving without suffering any consequences. Actually doing some of it still brings instant negative feedback screaming across my nerves. Bruised, battered, overtaxed -- -- but no longer on the wrong side of the majority vote. Somehow, that makes everything feel just a little better. And no matter what sort of shape I'm in, the laundry still has to be done. For the most part, we've been responsible for our own washing. Occasionally, someone -- usually Gary or Phillip -- will announce they're cleaning their own clothes, and do any of us have something we can hand over as long as they're going to be out there anyway? I don't make contributions to those piles: while it's not as if anyone's going to destroy my stuff with a Machine Wash Hot, Tumble Dry Sahara, I'm still not comfortable handing over my clothing. So every few days, I have to go out to the waterfall lake for a rinse-rinse-repeat. Mary-Jane lets us use tiny amounts of her soap to work on the really tough stains, but most of us are just learning to live with them. Except for Mary-Jane, who still insists on being as clean as possible. As she pointed out, every moment she's still on the air is effectively an audition for something. Weight loss can be forgiven in this setting. Filth can't. I'm next to her confessional diving rock, with several of my wet pieces spread out on it to dry. Plenty of sun this morning: it shouldn't take too long to get most of the post-wringing water out for those pieces that could be wrung. I have the lake to myself: no one's swimming right now. Most of the standard activities around camp seem to have been put on hold. We're still gathering firewood, getting food, and keeping the place clean -- except for Connie, who's weak on the first, decent on the second when it comes to herself, and has no interest in doing the last -- but exploration, play, conversation, and the rest just aren't taking place at the moment, or at least weren't when I left camp. It's possible that everyone was just waiting for me to leave before they started talking, but... Everyone is still feeling the aftermath from last night's Council. Haraiki was expecting a nice, peaceful series of four votes, with occasional pauses to switch targets for Immunity wins or idol finds. Get rid of us, sleep soundly for nearly two weeks, then sort everything out over six wild days with no worries until then. Now they're back in the position they had when they entered camp: tied. We know how we're going to deal with it, for the current value of 'we': Turare went to the beach before bed and had a quick conference. We're looking for swing votes, we're trying for Immunity, we want to have the idol, and if we get it, we're playing Three-Card Monte with it: find the lady and win a jury seat. Mary-Jane swore she wasn't going to switch again -- twelve times -- and we'll all see what we can do to line up a fifth vote. If we can't do it and we wind up worrying about the idol, then things will start to get interesting again. And if it comes down to the tie, then we really will take our chances with the tiebreaker this time. Or at least, so goes the theory. I'm almost completely certain Gardener has a plan of his own, and it's going to start very soon now -- but if it does, I have to let it go through... Azure is wandering around the boulder, taking occasional curious looks at my clothing. Maybe she hasn't completely accepted that humans remove their feathers every day. Every so often, she comes to the edge and peeks over to see if I'm okay. She hasn't been wandering as far lately. Her own hunt is finally over. I've caught a few glimpses of myself in the water's edge, but the ripples have kept me from getting a really good look. Fine. I still hurt too much to want to know what it looks like from the outside. A few days to heal and I'll be okay -- I should have six of them: even with any anticipated revenge factor from Haraiki, Gardener's probably still the first target -- but there's no way to be sure. There were some early indications, though. We initially left Tribal Council as two packs: Turare with lots of happy chatter and congratulations in the leading one (although Mary-Jane had been briefly miffed about not being let in on things), Haraiki silently trailing. Robin had slowly moved between the groups as we'd approached camp, finally coming up to me at the shelter to say "Thanks a lot, Alex," with a mix of bitterness and amusement. "So now I've got to find another Final Three deal. Typical. Just when you think you've got the game sewn up..." She hadn't sounded angry about all of it. Robin can at least be pleased about not having to listen to Angela's orders, lectures, and agenda any more. But her position in the game just became a lot more shaky -- even if that offer had been a lie all along: I still think Robin would have been out in fourth. Phillip's adjusted: he finally shrugged and said it was the game, there was nothing anyone could do about it, and maybe they should have thought a little harder about the chance of that joker coming out of the deck. Robin had joked about the impossibility of asking Angela to expect the unexpected, Phillip had smiled, and that was the end of the discussion for those two. Connie's about as angry as I've ever seen her: she accepts that what Gardner and I did was legal and there's no protest possible, but she still wants to do something about it. Preferably something that makes me miserable. I may be her primary target, but that's what I've been since Day One. Tony spent most of the night in shock. Daylight hasn't brought dawning with it. "Hey, Alex!" He's just coming in off the main trail, carrying his own pile of laundry. As we've all seen, he really didn't bring anything except tank tops: 'pack normally for a tropical zone' went into his head and came out as 'heat every day'. He's been borrowing Phillip's spare sweater for the coldest nights and relying on pure macho for the days. "You too, huh?" On the approach. "Gotta get it done -- it's not like the show's gonna give us one of those egg machines." Kneeling down a few feet away on the right. "You know. The countertop laundry stuff." "I've seen the commercials -- I don't think that's the kind of personal appliance they're going to offer." Robin would rather play for extra coffee. "Dunno -- they like to put in things we talk about." Which is the first indication of Tony's viewership level. "Of course, sometimes they ask us to talk about them..." And that might be the second. I shrug. "I think we've been doing that most of the time anyway." Calling off the Rewards before they arrive saves the camera crew a lot of hints. Tony nods, then puts one of his tank tops into the water. This one's a dark green -- almost the merge color. He starts hand-scrubbing. Softly, "Guess I'm back to washing for one." There's absolutely nothing I can say to that, so I don't. Unfortunately, Tony seems to be in a talking mood. "I did Angela's laundry. I'm really good at laundry." Small shrug. "Ten years in the minors -- there's stuff you get good at that you never thought about. Most of the time, the club does the uniforms, but sometimes you're on the road and the hosts won't do anything because they figure you'll feel worse dirty, and there's always your own stuff..." Maybe there is something I can say to that. There's definitely something I should. "Tony?" He glances over. "About Angela --" The laugh which cuts me off is just a little bit weary. "She told me you'd try it." Oh, no... "Try what?" Careful, careful... "Telling me it was all a joke." He puts the shirt aside -- it does look cleaner -- and starts on a pair of shorts. "That she was just pretending to be in love with me to get my vote. Someone might try to break us up and get me to switch by making me think I'd been played." Little bits of anger accumulating with every word. "Kind of stupid timing, doing it now, but I guess you guys really need that fifth vote..." Great gameplay, Angela. Sure: tell Tony that we'd try to convince him of the truth, make him believe the truth was the lie, set him up to defend the lie onto death. Regardless, I try again. I'm really good at futile. "She said some things to me before she went out." "Yeah?" A harsh look, directly at me. "What kind of things?" And I can see the denial in his eyes -- no, not even that: the faith. Tony really believes Angela cares about him. He thinks she's waiting for him in the jury seats if he goes there, or she's just getting ready to vote in his favor should he reach Final Two. Tony believes in making the majors, becoming a star, multi-million dollar contracts, and Happily Ever After. Tony has only a few months left where he can hang onto that last part. Why do I have to be the one who tells him the coach is never coming to bring him to the castle? I sigh. "It's nothing that won't make the show." Scrubbing a little harder. "Maybe it'll be better if you hear it from her than from me." At first, he doesn't seem to understand that -- and then he takes it as a good thing. "Romance stuff?" Sure, Tony. She was telling me all about how she was going to propose to you on live television at the Reunion. Second time in series history. You would be very happy for the rest of your life. And your fairy godmother totally approves of the match. "Yeah." Trying to keep from sounding bitter, feeling like I was mostly making it. "Romance stuff." "Cool!" And all the anger's gone, just like that. Back to scrubbing. "Not like you guys don't need a fifth vote, though." The smile is oddly small and shy, especially given the size of the jaw it's flitting across. "Not like we don't, either. I don't want to go through the tiebreaker -- it's probably my butt up on one of the hot seats." Slowly, carefully, giving off the impression that he was practicing this all the way to the lake. "I don't blame you for Angela, okay? I'd kind of rather you'd bounced me out, but I guess it was pretty obvious who our captain was -- always fire the manager before you think about dumping the players." Wringing out the shorts, "Not like I'm gonna vote for you in the Final Two because I really wanted that one-two for her, but I don't think you're gonna make it on your own anyway." Somehow, that didn't come across as bitter. Statement of fact, yes. Bitter, no. But Tony's used to losing teammates -- and he thinks this one's waiting a few feet away -- plus the poor idiot is in love to the point where he was willing to sacrifice himself for Angela, hell, it was probably part of her strategy if things came down to that: hand over the idol, dear, it's time for the ultimate display of your affection... "Because you'll be voting for me at the next Council." He shakes his head, then grins. "Right after the next, maybe -- gotta get Gardener out before the strength stuff comes around." And then the one I was half waiting for, didn't believe would come from this source. "Unless you want to come over." There it is. "Happy to switch you for Connie -- she goes out fifth, and then it's you, me, Robin, and Phillip. That's not a bad Final Four." Sure. Swing out, sweet Alex. Give us five to three -- which we then make five-two -- and then dump you and revert to four-three -- followed by four-two. "It worked on Mary-Jane. Once. It didn't work on me the first time and it's not working now." Tony just looks confused. "Best you're gonna get from your own group is fourth -- why not try going against us in there instead? You've gotta want Connie out before you." "Maybe because they're my own group." Those words actually came out of my mouth. They're not being believed by the speaker, but did they ever emerge smoothly. He shrugs. "I guess you've got your colors." Yeah. And your orange is still hideous. "You could come to us." No, this has no chance to work, but -- -- no, it has no chance to work. "I've got my team. Mind if I use the rock?" I shake my head, and Tony straightens up and walks behind me, moving to spread his clothes out on the warm stone. A wet sound of fabric meeting rock -- a slightly drier, more subtle shuffle from higher up the boulder, accompanied by a sudden squawk from Azure -- -- oh, for... This is partially a guess, but I know where I put what. "There's no size tags." I'd specifically asked to have them omitted: easy enough on custom work. Tony glances down over the side of the boulder, Azure-style. He's a little abashed, but not the least bit embarrassed. "Oh. Yeah." A horizontal shrug and big smile. "Can't blame a guy for looking." Yes I can. "Hands off, Tony. No messing around with someone's clothing without their permission." Which is why I had to ask for Gardener's on his failed fishing net of a shirt. (Phillip received a very obvious free pass on tearing my sleeve.) "Why does this towel have blood on it?" Which makes him go a little bit pale. "We -- kind of tried to get your blood off the pallet after they took you..." With my towel. Figures. "It's not coming out." "I'm pretty good with blood." Except for the 'looking at it' part. "Let me try." He scrambles from the boulder, accepts the towel, and goes to work on it. "Some of it's coming free, but I need a good protein scrubber..." More effort. "I think the base might be stuck. These are yours, right?" I nod. "Sorry..." The thought comes out of the usual nowhere. He's not a bad person. He's just not that smart, and kind of single-minded, and ready to believe... "You really like Angela, don't you?" He looks startled: the question came out of the same place -- and then he blushes. "No..." Almost back to shy again. "I really love her. I never thought a girl like that -- you know, a guy like me -- I get some girls, but it's hard when you travel so much, I don't make a lot of money -- no one in the minors does -- it's mostly just girls who hang around in bars and look for the ones who'll be pulling in the millions someday..." And he sighs, long and warm as his eyes focus on something only he can see. "She's pretty, she's smart -- smarter than me, I know it, and I guess I'm supposed to be feeling like 'less of a man' or something, I'll take some major red dogging when I get back, you're never supposed to go with a girl smarter than you, but..." The smile peeks out. "I just never thought I'd get that lucky." And just in case there was a flirt play about to start, "Not that you're bad to look at or anything. You're a completely different type, and I like taller, but you've definitely got your points, and --" Which is pretty much all I can take. Actually, we reached my tolerance maximum at 'love'. "Got it." That's all. Got it. We can drop this now because if it goes any further, I'm going to dunk him in the lake and hope either the water or the near-death experience clear his head, and I'll be out the instant I make unwanted contact. Of course, it's still Tony: maybe he'll enjoy it... "Let's just finish. We probably don't have much time until the challenge." ----------------------------------------------------------------- {We open late on Night Twenty-Four with Robin indulging in a very rare thing: the post-sunset confessional. "I've got one wish right now. I want to start over. On another season. Some other beach far away, with another tribe. No Angela. No Gardener. No Alex. No idol that's here, there, and everywhere. And a Final Three promise I can actually ride to the end without having the person who gave it to me go out on a bounce. Damn it! I can't blame them for doing that -- I can just blame us for not seeing it coming. If we'd switched the vote to anyone else..." She looks really resigned here. "Time to play scramble again."} {Day Twenty-Five dawns, and we get a confessional from Tony. "Go to bed mad, but wake up ready to play: that's what my manager would say. I've got to win for her now." This is just sad. He still thinks Angela cares about him. Now I want that working time machine just so I can send him back to yell at himself.} {Connie walks into her confessional area, sits down, looks at the camera, shakes her head, and walks out. Which is followed by Phillip, who's still managing to enjoy this. "I guess I've gotta buy the DVD set now. I want to see just when and where that switch happened. Hope they ask me to do some commentary." Yeah. Like 'Oops: there it is.'} {Quiet morning in camp, with a voiceover from Gardener. "Everyone's taking stock of the new situation. We all know we need a fifth vote or we're going to be looking at the tiebreaker. Mary-Jane's not swinging to them again, so their first option is closed. I've got a pretty good idea of what I have to do -- I'd just better make sure it works."} {Alex out at the lake doing laundry -- Tony comes up, and here comes his first Angela-free play: I want to recruit the woman who just dumped my girlfriend and make her into my fifth vote! Do I have to tell you Alex sees right through this? For her part, Alex tries to talk to Tony about Angela's fakemance, and he doesn't want to hear a word of it because Angela told him not to listen...} {*sigh* Ugly, ugly, ugly... You can pretty much see Alex give up right there. Yeah, Tony -- you'll see it on the show. And I'm still surprised no one heard you scream when you did. Denial only goes so far, and I don't think there's any way it could have survived that.} {If I actually cared about these people, this would be heartbreaking. Tony indulges in a typical Tony Moment, Alex catches him, and then she gets him to say the words while the sad music plays over the scene. He loves Angela. The poor sap actually loves her. Someone get us off this scene before ABC recruits Tony in an attempt to heal his broken heart.} {duz any1 no wut her bra siz ss?} {Yeah. She's a Thirty-Four Learn To Type.} {Back at camp -- Gary making advances on Robin in the non-Angela sense: looking for that extra vote. Problem is, he's being too honest about it. "I don't know what I can promise you. Right now, you've got to think you might be the last Haraiki out if we got the majority at the next Council. So I can't offer that -- and I really can't give you anything higher than fifth without checking with the others first." Robin's really amused by this: asks Gary if he can't at least come up with a decent lie. Gary tells her lying just isn't his strength, but he'll talk to the others and see if they can give her something concrete. Robin's willing to wait on an offer.} {Better get ready to revise that headstone -- if they come up with something good that Honest Gary can deliver, those swing chances may be seeing their resurrection day.} {And right after that conversation ends, Gary goes out to the beach to try his own hand at fishing -- he hasn't done much of it, but Gardener's been missing from camera range for most of the morning -- and Connie comes out to try and swing him! "You're a good man, and we have good people on our side -- people a lot more like you. Don't you think you'd be more comfortable among your own?" Here's Connie's plan: get Gary, and then vote in the following order: Gardener, Alex, Mary-Jane, and then -- get ready, people -- Phillip! Follow that with Robin: Gary's Final Three with Connie and Tony. Gary is justifiably intrigued by this, and tells Connie he'll think it over and let her know what he's decided later. Connie's visibly brightened up by the prospect -- apparently she's hearing that as 'give me a few minutes to re-dye my buff' -- and leaves as happy as we've ever seen her.} {So is Connie actually breaking her alliance with Phillip, lying to Gary about his prospective position, or is she just making a play on Gary without letting the others know? Haraiki may be a little too fractured right now -- no one vote may have any idea what the other ballots are up to.} {Maybe she's just waiting to see if she can get a commitment before she brings it back -- put as many lines in the water as you can, see what bites.} {Tree mail! Connie gets to read this one: 'To win a million is why you're here, the riches that it brings. Teamwork works for just so long, and then it's a solo thing. But teams is what you need right now, for echoes of wealth beyond dreams. Multiply by a thousand -- and a good night's sleep you'll bring.' I am in pain just from typing that.} {Alex is the first to make a guess, and we know she's right: this is for a night in the mansion. Gardener telling her to consider sitting out because she already made the day trip, Alex saying she doesn't remember any of it...} {Obviously they'll be working in teams here, but teams of how many? Eight left -- two of four, or four of two? And no ideas about what they actually have to do...} {No travel shots for once -- the camera moves to a shot of the baobab, and we're at Challenge Beach.} ----------------------------------------------------------------- Words that, as of two days ago, I thought I'd never hear in person again. "Come on in, guys!" I'm at the head of the line this time -- mutual agreement among Turare, which pretty much pushed me out to the front as a weird sort of honor for getting the tie back, possibly among other things -- and the others trail in behind me. We don't need the Council seats to show our division this time: Turare on the left, Haraiki on the right, and what's Amanu? Jeff visibly notes it, but isn't ready to say anything about it just yet. For our part, we're busy staring at the challenge field, and Gardener lets a hearty groan fly. This is one of the things he was dreading earlier, and there's no way he can sit out and avoid the embarrassment. Jeff is trying to look neutral. He's almost making it. "Think you've figured this one out, Gardener?" Which gets him a snort. "Yeah. The name of the game is 'scrape all the skin off the big guy's back.' Special Reward: tan it and make a jacket. I knew they weren't all going to be strength, Jeff, but I really didn't want this one to come out of the rotation." "Me neither," Phillip says, and he sounds like he's already in torment. "You can pretty much write me off right now." "At least it's not for Immunity," Robin reminds him. Phillip nods, and even Gardener looks a little comforted. "True," Jeff agrees. "But let's talk about what it is before we go into what it's for. As you can see, we've got the rope course set up: a three-dimensional bamboo grid." About twenty feet high and sixty long, four distinct rope colors looping over, around, and through all parts, with some overlap and cross points. "In a few minutes, we'll be placing small tokens along the course. These tokens represent some of the previous challenges you've played in. We'll randomly divide you into four teams of two: those teams will be linked together and connected to one of the ropes with a carabiner. Working as a unit, you'll work your way through the grid, freeing tokens as you go. Once you clear the grid with all ten tokens, race to the end of your rope and arrange the challenges in order on your station workbench." The four stations are about a hundred feet away from the end of the grid, very close to the shoreline. "The first team to get all ten tokens in the right order wins Reward. Want to know what you're playing for?" One take. "The winning team will spend tonight in the billionaire's mansion. Warm beds with feather guilts --" Azure doesn't seem to mind "-- hot shower, or a bath if you want it -- soap, cosmetics for the women -- all the comforts for a stay in a place that still has a lot of the original touches left -- and practically all of the furnishings. Worth playing for?" Is he kidding? This is the one I've been wanting since I got here! Getting a look at the mansion, a chance to sketch the interior, exterior, everything without paying the price of a jury seat... Azure shifts on my shoulder. Maybe she's picking up on some of it: for her, it would be the excitement of getting to go home. Or maybe she's about to get down for a bathroom moment again. "Yes, Jeff!" The chorus is satisfactory. "Are there any questions about the challenge?" Phillip, breaking the speech rules for the first time in the individual stage. "Well, not the challenge -- but I've got a question." This is a big enough shock for Jeff to let him continue. "What did you guys do with the jaguar skin?" I look down the line at him: I'd just assumed he'd disposed of it after removing it. Jeff attempts to appear innocent. He's not very good at that, either. "You'll be seeing it again, and that's all I'm going to say about it. Okay -- Gardener?" Gardener looks very tired. "Any chance of rescheduling this for after I've lost some more weight?" There isn't one. "Fine. I yield the floor." Connie immediately claims a few tiles of it. "I didn't hear anything about food in that Reward -- will we be eating?" Jeff shakes his head. "No dinner. You'll eat at camp, sleep in the mansion, and be returned before the Immunity challenge." Which doesn't eliminate another possibility, and it looks like Connie's realized that -- but she's not asking about it, either. For my part, it took out my own question: if I'd have the chance to recover my sketchbook first in the unlikely event of a win. Not that I was going to ask it anyway: no point in sounding overconfident. I may be the smallest person left in the group, but Robin's very limber, and Mary-Jane's long and slim: they can both work through the course pretty quickly. Plus a lot of this is going to be about the partner draw, and I've got a two in seven chance of landing either Gardener or Phillip. If that happens, I can pretty much write the Reward off on the spot. I can see the size of the openings: there are going to be times when both big men will be desperately trying not to get stuck, and there will be times when they fail. Maybe Gardener's seeing this as payback for laughing at Elmore... There's no other questions, and a production staff member hands Jeff a soft bag. Tony looks like he's recognized it. "That's from the gross food challenge, isn't it?" Jeff nods. "Eight balls with your names on them." He reaches in and makes the first pull. "From the left starting position working in. First team is Mary-Jane -- and Tony." That's going to be a hard team to beat, and Tony knows it: he looks as happy about his partner assignment as he's looked about anything since Angela left. Mary-Jane's satisfied, but she knows it's going to be for nothing except an overnight stay: I already filled the others in on Tony's speech. No one has any idea how to get through to him. "On the second team: Phillip -- and Gardener." So much for having two teams crippled: that's three active plus one comedy -- and both men know it. Gardener gives Phillip a resigned look, and Phillip just grins. "Jeff -- late question. Are we allowed to just break through the thing?" "No." Nice try, nice thought, beautiful dream, but no. Jeff reaches into the bag again. "Third position: Gary -- and Robin." And then he stops talking. No one is talking. A few people have stopped breathing. I'm one of them. I also count real good up to six. Naturally, Robin's the first to make a comment. "Oh, great." She's perfectly content with this. "That's two acts for the future circus. Anyone want to bring back Elmore and Denadi to make up the third ring?" Gardener recovers from his own anticipated misery long enough to register a comment: a sharp bark of laughter. "Two clowns -- one animal act..." Jeff knows what he has to do, and there's nothing anyone can do to stop it. "Final team." Pulling out the last balls is just a formality. "Alex -- and Connie." I look at her. She looks at me. Azure stares just because she can. The human participants are finally in complete agreement about something. Neither one of us is the least bit happy about this. But there's no protest that can be made, no redraw possible. We're stuck with each other. What feels like far too long a silence stretches out -- and Jeff finally breaks it. "If anyone at home had ever wondered whether or not I can feel the names on the balls and put pairs together deliberately, this is going to do nothing for my case..." For my part, I don't believe it was deliberate. The game is cruel. The game occasionally feels sadistic. Tipping all the way over into torture is reserved for endurance challenges. "Split into your teams. I want the big men down Haraiki's trail, Gary and Robin down Turare's path, Connie and Alex, you take the left-side animal hunt start, Mary-Jane and Tony, you get the right. I'll call you in when the course is ready." I slowly make my way to the path entrance: Connie passes me in a huff and gets there several steps before I do. There must be something about the way the tokens are placed and fastened that Jeff doesn't want us to see... The other teams are talking to each other as they move, soft tones. Mary-Jane glances at me just before she goes down her path behind Tony, and her eyes are filled with pity. I meet up with Connie a few seconds later. She doesn't see me at first: she's staring off down the trail, almost refusing to look at me -- but then she realizes she'll have to do something, this is a golden opportunity, a chance to go after me with only a single camera operator as witness, a slow, dramatic turn -- -- and I cut her off before she can start. "I want to win this Reward more than I want you to lose it." Firm, solid, forced neutrality that's almost holding together, no-argument-tolerated (even though one is almost guaranteed to be coming). Her mouth opens -- then closes -- and her eyes narrow. Slowly, from between her teeth, "I want to get in there too." I nod. "Do you want it badly enough to not deny it to me?" I have no problems with being this blatant. It may be the only thing she'll listen to. Forceful truth: I don't like this, you don't like this, but we're stuck. Can we agree on that much? Connie visibly thinks it over -- then slowly, slowly nods. "Yes." Bitterly, "I want that Reward. I'm not going to sabotage myself just to see you fail. Jeff said there was no dinner involved. I have to believe there's a breakfast." Nodding back is just about all I trust myself to do. Besides, I agree with her. "All right. Let's talk." "About what?" She already sounds frustrated with her predicament. Something else we're in total agreement on. "We've already agreed not to hold each other back. We have absolutely nothing else to discuss." She's wrong there. "About challenge strategy. Did you notice Jeff sent us out before they put the tokens in? I think it's only partially because he doesn't want us to see where they are -- we all have to follow the ropes through: we can't exactly miss them if we're trying to look. There may be times when we have to pull on the slack to get to a high place, though -- the ropes stopped short of the highest level for the grid, but the grid was higher than them for a reason." And now Connie's actually looking thoughtful. "Yes -- I can see that. If we follow the rope, we can't miss them as long as we look around..." She hates me: there's nothing I can do about that. But if she can use me to win something for herself? Not a problem. In that sense, Connie's not a bad player. "But we can't just count on them being right along the rope. So why do you think he sent us out before the course was ready other than that?" "The fastenings. I'm betting they're going to be complicated -- maybe not even all the same type." Time for some mutual questioning of the very weak kind. "How good are you with knots?" "Fair," she admits. "Better if I can use my teeth -- we'll see how thick the fastenings are. How much do you weigh?" Come again? But it came out without insult tones attached -- and she explains it a second later. "I've seen this challenge type before. There are times when you basically have to throw your -- partner -- around the course." The anger emerges on this one: "I'm perfectly aware that you can throw me. I don't know if I can lift you." Most of that was momentum, but I really don't feel like discussing it: I just consider what I've seen of Connie's surgically-slimmed form. "You probably can't -- not for more than a few seconds." Which might be good enough, but... "And I'll have to be careful about lifting you." I'm pretty sure I can, but I'm not looking forward to the prospect: rubbing bruised limbs against bamboo bars is not in my best interests. Overworking weary muscles will be worse. This has the potential to be the most painful challenge to date -- and if Connie looks for an opportunity to put a few 'accidental' elbow pokes and slip-kicks in, she's going to find one. "We'll just have to hope we can avoid it." Another slow nod -- then "This is not the beginning of a beautiful friendship. I'll cooperate long enough to get what I want. Nothing more. I want to see that mansion. And if you bring that sketchbook, I want to see myself in it." More quickly, "You should be in the lead. If we can get any distance between us -- more than a few inches -- you'll have an easier time scouting the trail. We've got to have some play on that link: the holes aren't wide enough for two men like Gardener and Phillip going through together." With total disdain, "At worst, we're guaranteed to finish third. Let's review the challenge order while we still have time: the swim and dig was first, then the blindfolds, followed by the paintballs..." -----------------------------------------------------------------   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

cahaya 14104 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-07-06, 10:55 PM (EST) 2. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Part II" "What's with the number?" Well, I'd be the first to get in line for an "Estee #3" autographed printed copy of S:SI! Foo dogs by Tribe This Survivor fanfic work is a classic.   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-13-06, 03:42 PM (EST) 3. "I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Part III" LAST EDITED ON 10-20-06 AT 09:32 AM (EST) After ----------------------------------------------------------------- And then there are times when the Inbox just about says it all. {I hope you see this V} Alex, Welcome to celebrity. After last night's record-shattering Nielsen rating -- I thought there was a chance of seeing Borneo eclipsed one day, but I didn't think I'd see it blown past like it was nailed to the ground, not for a regular season episode (okay, it was a tie with the finale, but it was a spectacular tie) -- a very large percentage of the country (and a much smaller one for the world) has seen you take on one of the deadliest predators on the planet. By hand. And win. (Apparently Animal Planet has already asked for the footage so they can include it in an upcoming special.) Anyone who saw it is still talking about it, anyone who missed it is hearing about it from their friends and waiting for the repeat on Sunday. You and the others are now at the forefront of the public consciousness. From what I just read on the Internet, Robin's still wrapped up in her very impromptu autograph session in Times Square and enjoying every minute of it. Eight names on well over a hundred million domestic tongues -- and yours is first and foremost. The woman who beat the jaguar. The player who finally figured out how to really make the idol work. The contestant in a million who still can't possibly win -- -- and of course, there's a lot of newly converted viewers when it comes to the Tarot reading. Trina's made it official: check marks under the Fool and Death cards on her site. Try to imagine what her little shop is like today, then find a place where you can watch CNN and wait for them to recycle the footage where they showed the line. Three blocks. She's filled out two appointment books so far, and had to send someone out to get her a third. Trina's fame and fortune are on the way, and even the other bootees are seeing their lesser share of attention. From now on, you have a new danger to watch for: public love. It may not last that long, and I'm not sure how they're going to react to what'll happen two episodes from now -- but it might even be permanent, although the level is guaranteed to ebb. The adoration of the masses can be just as threatening as their hatred. Expect the tabloids to go looking for stories on you, the legitimate press to start searching for feature material -- especially after the next event hits -- and a possible camera presence in your life that may approach the actual show. This is what America does: raises people up so it can tear them down again. There's pleasure on both ends of the activity: read some books about the French Revolution and pay close attention to the body count. Now there was a reality show... (It's called 'killing the god-king'. Look it up.) The endorsement offers won't arrive right away: the companies will be waiting to see if you're just a flash in the latest pan. (Although I heard about Coleman -- congratulations!) The party invitations will probably start coming in just as soon as people realize you're close to Manhattan and can be brought in to substitute for anyone else featured in the news of the day. But overall, things are going to come thick and fast from this point forward. Celebrity does have its rewards, and you should try to enjoy them -- as much as you ever enjoy anything. Still, there are perils attached too -- and I have to believe you're already on the lookout for them. The TV Guide cover is just the first step. People Magazine will be looking for a story now, as will the other celebrity and quasi-media magazines. The newspapers are going for their share. The cable channels won't be ignored. The show is back, the show is hot -- and you're a very significant percentage of the reason why. If that doesn't frighten you, it should -- just a little. But then, I don't know if anything scares you any more -- and there are still things that have to, just for the sake of survival. I have confidence in your ability to ride this out without letting it change you for the worse. Just don't ignore all of the perks. It won't be that long now. Hold on. Perks... Sure. Right. Perks. Being trapped at a table in a food court with a whole mall's worth of people who had lined up to get five seconds with me was a perk. Some of them had tried stretching it out to two minutes. Five minutes. The four hours required for dinner and a movie. A few had gotten in line twice. Several had brought it multiple copies, which had apparently been arriving from all over the county. And far too many had asked questions, even after I'd requested the largest empty drink cup available from the food court and placed it on the table next to a quickly-made sign that read Alex's Show Revelation Fund: Five Million Dollars Buys One Whole Story. Which no one had taken seriously, although I'd gotten seventeen cents out of it. If I'd just had a few books with me... Three hours of being stared at like a caged animal -- and then I'd finally gotten out. My hand hadn't hurt: I've drawn for longer periods than that. But I was tired of all the questions, tired of the examinations, date requests, people asking if they could see the scars, one senior who'd just gone right for my sleeve without asking and started screaming at me after I'd gotten out of the way, leaving her sprawled across the table -- -- and then there had been the actual shopping part. People following me through the mall with extra copies of the magazine and newspaper. Clerks either jumping to be the first who could help me or beating an immediate retreat. Unbelievable amounts of help on the jacket: I'm normally just left alone to sort through the sale racks and hope to find something that remotely fits. This time, I'd been treated like -- well, like a celebrity. 'You're something of an awkward size for fashion, dear: petite for height, but a little more fit for the limbs than anyone really designs for, and of course no one thinks to accommodate for buxom. So you need a little bit of extra room in the sleeves and more for the torso, but with a flare back in towards the waist so you don't lose heat...' And then a careful sort through the entire place until they found something that would almost work -- followed by sending it out to have it altered at no additional cost. Which would take an additional day or two, but not to worry, because they'd have it shipped to me for free as well... The mattress: let us fall all over ourselves to accommodate you, and we can't believe a beautiful young woman like you only wants a twin size. The monitor: no, I have no interest whatsoever in talking to you, I don't even want to be in the same store with you, and now I'm going to be chewed out by my supervisor and blame it on you. The television: hey, let's do this a different way! We've got a floor model for a TV card that we can let you have for free, and how about we plug it into your current system and new monitor, instant clear picture, all you need is cable... The whole day had been like that. (I'd lost a good part of it to explaining that I didn't have and wouldn't be getting cable.) What had often looked like open adoration, small touches of fear here and there, some anger if I didn't spare still more time to accommodate requests, the occasional piece of outright hatred, offers of things for free... (I had wound up taking the TV card in the end. I might have cable someday, right? If the cost worked out to 'zero', it was pretty much a certainty.) But I hadn't done anything real to earn it. No creations being honored, no works of art, no discoveries or inventions -- just 'She's on television! Let's give her stuff and get mad at her if she doesn't return the favor with an investment of time!' 'Exhilarating' didn't apply. 'Terrifying' did. I didn't want that kind of attention, certainly not that much of it. False love turns to real hate on the crux of any excuse: ask every celebrity news show in the world, but clear three months first so you'll have enough time to hit the highlights of the previous two weeks. Robin was probably loving every minute of it, but Robin knew more about how that world worked than I did. So did Tony, but I didn't know if he wanted to talk to anyone right now. Gardener had always been on the outer edges of the press conferences: he would be able to move into the center without a blink. Connie -- I didn't know. She'd love the perks and bask in the party invitations, but she was already high enough in society to receive some of the second anyway... My answering machine light was on again. Six messages. I could play them immediately and find out if it was just newspapers calling back to try for a non-show feature story -- A Day In The Life Of A Contestant, they could have it -- or work through the thousands of E-mails that had arrived while I'd been stuck for an idea on the fiftieth quick doodle of the morning. (Most people had asked me to draw Azure. One had asked for me to draw myself in a bikini and won a free pass out of the line, newspaper unsigned.) Somehow the answering machine seemed less risky, especially given the assortment of fresh fan art I'd found during the initial sort: me killing the jaguar, me doing -- other things -- also with the jaguar... I pressed the Play button. Two newspaper messages, two news networks that hadn't learned anything the first time, one autodialer that was either ignoring the Do Not Call list or hadn't bothered to get a copy, and one where the first question begged was 'How did you get this number?' By paying for it, of course. Enough money and you could buy anything. "Hi, Alex! I certainly hope you know this voice. I'm having a little get-together this Saturday night, and I was wondering if you'd like to drop by. I'll send someone to pick you up, of course, round-trip in one of my limos from your apartment to the Tower and back. I'm going to have all sorts of interesting people there, and I thought you might even want to meet a few of my current crew -- you know, give them some advice. It's a formal party, so you'll need to bring your best dress --" I listened to the rest of it, wrote down the number to call back, and then thought about what I'd say when I did. Other than no. I didn't own a 'best dress'. I didn't own a dress -- there, that would do it. Best excuse available because it was true, plus there was no way I was going to provide someone's center-ring circus act just for being the media freak of the week. I was sort of curious to see who else would be at the party, I really wanted to find out what kind of food they served, I'd never been in high society -- but that just wasn't me. I wouldn't know what to say or do there. I'd just wind up embarrassing myself: therefore, I wasn't going. And frankly, I'd had enough billionaires in my life already. Sorry, Donald. But there's nothing you can do to get me to that party. Not even with the promise to potentially spoil someone else's show. Somewhere in my head, Jeff chuckled. "Worried about what Mark would say if you did?" Worried about what would happen the first time some dish came around that required a super-exclusive fork to eat with and I couldn't pick it out. Plus I can't dance. I picked up the phone. Aloud, "He can ask as much as he wants to, but there's nothing he can say that'll make a formal gown spontaneously appear in my closet." Dialing... Seriously, Jeff? Celebrity? You can have it. It's an invitation to a world I can't function in: why humiliate myself for someone else's entertainment? "Because there might be publishers there. Syndicate bosses. People who could help you do what you want to do." I paused in the middle of dialing, trying not to see it -- then kept going. None of which changes the fact that I don't own a dress and have no idea what to say to those people. Jeff didn't go snide very often. This one was more of a gentle statement. "The later of which hasn't kept you from operating in this world." Another, longer pause. "I hate you." I hate myself, or at least certain aspects of me that won't shut up... "And I'm still not going. I've had more than enough of people who pretend to like me when it's in their best temporary interests to do so, too." Jeff had nothing to say to that. I finished dialing. ----------------------------------------------------------------- During ----------------------------------------------------------------- {I have a cemetery across the street from my college dorm. I'm going to go to the window and look outside. If I see anything climbing out of a grave, I won't be back.} {...Alex and Connie. I'm submitting an invoice to CBS. Someone has to pay for all these burned DVDs, and it's not going to be me.} {I'm still laughing. Even Azure looked like she'd rather be anywhere else...} {Some pre-challenge strategy discussion -- Mary-Jane doing a lot of explaining to Tony, who just looks thrilled about getting the chance to have his hands on her rear a few hundred times. Gardener just gives Phillip a long look and says "Let's just not do anything that'll make the Funniest Moments extra on the DVD set, okay?" He knows they're in last place here -- might as well just work slow and certain to avoid humiliation. Nothing from Alex & Connie, mostly because we all know who'd win Catfight #2.} {Maybe they're last place. Connie will try to leverage Alex around a loop by pulling on her hair, and that's the end of Connie. And Alex. But it's the start of the trial, and doesn't Court TV want to get in on the ratings bonanza too?} {And here we are at the starting line -- Connie giving Alex a grim look, Alex nodding back, Jeff looks at his favorite challenge accessory linking everyone to the course and tries not to drool...} ----------------------------------------------------------------- As it turns out, both of us are fastened to the primary rope with a carbiner, and there's four feet of play between us, granted by a secondary link of hemp. It's just enough to let us crawl through the lower portions one after the other without worrying about kicking the trailing partner in the face -- unfortunately, since Connie is the trailing partner -- but still not enough to let Phillip and Gardener have that much peace with each other's presence. For the first time all game, Gardener looks like he's seriously considering a temporary variety of quit. Phillip still looks eager to go, although not as much as Tony does: our athlete clearly thinks he's got this one beat. Robin's a little more dubious: I have to believe she can scramble, twist, and bend, but Gary's an unknown commodity here -- an older, less flexible commodity. As for Connie and myself, we have to see if we can hold together for just long enough... I glance at Azure on her perch -- she regards me with something that could almost be pity -- and turn back in time to see Connie staring at me with an expression of grim determination. I nod to her. Yes, we can do this. We probably won't win, but we won't make each other lose, either. We each want to see the mansion more than we want the other not to see it -- although the odds are very good we'll both be seeing it between visits to the other side of the Tribal Council set -- -- Jeff looks everyone over, making sure we're ready. Apparently we look it, because: "For an overnight stay in the mansion and a taste of the good life: Survivors ready --" -- Gardener glances at me, looks at Connie, shakes his head in disbelief, then returns to gazing forward -- "-- go!!" I'm in the lead, Connie easily matching my pace on the short sprint to the front of the bamboo jungle gym: from the sound of things, we arrived second, as Mary-Jane is already telling Tony where to go for the first token. (He's in front of her and was looking somewhat dismayed about it at the starting line.) For my part, I started examining the course as soon as I got off the trail: we have a variety of fastenings, starting with sliding clasps, continuing on through knots, and ending in locks with several keys waiting nearby. The luck factor has been introduced into this challenge, and I don't like it... "Down!" I caerfully drop to my knees: there's enough slack on the rope so I won't yank Connie down with me, but doing that kind of movement too fast will make my aching body report in more loudly than I want to hear. "Stay low and work out the first tangle..." Hands and knees is the shot I don't want to give the camera, but the bamboo bars are spaced too far apart to use as pull grips: nothing to do but go forward... Behind me, Connie says "Which way do we go after the tangle?" It looks like the rope wraps around itself three times: we'll have to open up some free space on it and go through the resulting loops. I'm already starting to see how that would be possible: it's just another kind of spacial relations puzzle. "Right and up -- glance that way: you can reach the first token right after we clear it." It's a small blue metal circle with an image embossed onto it: an open box with six objects inside. The memory game. Our rope is also blue: we can't confuse it for anyone else's at a crossover point. "Can you work that fastening?" A sliding clasp. "No problem -- I don't have to hold my breath." Into the loop we go... ----------------------------------------------------------------- {Tony moving fast, but he's quicker than Mary-Jane and he's not accounting for her speed -- almost dragging her along.} {Gary and Robin not doing badly together.} {Am I seeing this right, or did we just slip into that alternate universe again? How can Alex & Connie be the best-coordinated team?} {I thought some of you believed Cole and Connie had a secret alliance all along. Aren't you thrilled to be getting your first piece of proof?} {this isn't happening this isn't happening this isn't happening} {Alex playing pathfinder and getting through the twists in a hurry, Connie obediently following and working on some of the tokens when she can reach them... Where's the arguing? Where's the insults? Where's the not-very-subtle attempts to strangle Alex with the rope? This isn't a comedy act/murder parade, this is an actual try at winning this thing!} {Get ready for a new generation of fan art: Connie and Alex kiss and make up. Literally.} {Please stop making me throw up...} {And suddenly, Gardener wishes he was Elmore, because at least then he'd be narrower at one point.} ----------------------------------------------------------------- ...somewhere behind us, Gardener curses at the exact moment Jeff gives us the update. "Gardener learning raw strength and size aren't always a benefit in this game!" Or at least wide shoulders aren't: he may be stuck at one of the narrower points. Of course, Robin just can't let that sort of thing go unremarked upon. "Great body, Gardener! Too bad the challenge staff doesn't like it as much as I do!" Gary: "Robin, we've got to move..." I don't have time to risk a glance in their direction, and their relative position won't matter much anyway. We're hardly all taking identical routes through the grid: ten tokens for all of us, ten fastenings to undo, and an identical length of rope to follow -- but that rope can go all over the place before it exits: some loops come close to the other side and then go right back in. There's no real way to tell where we are relative to the others. Other than Jeff. "Alex and Connie get their third token!" he declares, and I get to hear Tony curse. Are we in the lead? Possibly so: "Tony still working on that second knot!" Connie is going for the tokens when she has the rope slack to reach them, I'm trying for them if I do, some are set so that the trailing partner is the more practical selection -- plus we only have so much clip space on our belts. I attach this one: the stilts. Onwards... Somewhere in the grid, Tony gets that second token -- and then runs into a problem: he's at a rope intersection, and apparently despite the color indicators, he's not sure which one to follow. Or he's confused about the loops. Or color-blind. Take your pick. Mary-Jane has only one thing to say about it. "Tony, you have to go left!" Jeff almost chokes, and we can all see it coming -- -- sure enough. "I am going left!" Which is when Mary-Jane, Jeff, six other contestants, at least four discernible camera operators, and most of the challenge staff chorus on "Your other left!" Connie starts laughing, and we carefully maneuver for our fourth token... ----------------------------------------------------------------- {Alex ascending, Connie right behind her, they stop so Connie can pick up the sixth token while Alex, stretching carefully with her knees and one elbow hooked just right, can stretch across to get what might be the eighth. Jeff silently allowing it -- it's their token and their color, he didn't say anything about having to work in order, and if they can reach it, fine. No one else has noticed, and Connie's the only one who would normally protest it.} {And there's the shot I didn't get at the sniper crawl. Thank you, thank you, thank you -- if only that blouse was the least bit open at the top...} {You go to sleep every night wishing you were the claw necklace, don't you?} {Well, not every night. It just showed up an episode ago. Generally I wish I was the cross.} {Tony and Mary-Jane reach a similar point on their course, but Tony doesn't think to reach for the extra token and Mary-Jane can't see it.} {Robin having horrible luck on the second lock: Connie invokes her Christian Fortune again and gets the right key in the first try, which is pretty good for a selection of eight.} {This is so disturbing. There hasn't been a single unkind word said between them on the entire course! What happened back there on the trail? Did the ultra-secret impossible alliance finally convene and decide to start operating in the semi-open?} {They're not exactly complimenting each other, either -- just checking on each other's progress, not getting in their own way, and helping out when they can.} {That's still bad enough. The lion is lying down with the lamb, and a Constitutional amendment is going to be passed to keep them from having children.} {Phillip almost gets his neck trapped in a self-created noose -- couldn't widen the loop enough to pass through it. Robin bitching up a storm, losing track of which keys she has and hasn't tried, Gary trying to get her focused again.} {Alex blowing right past the place where the eighth token was, but Mary-Jane has to stop and take it off -- no, not in the usual M-J sense, don't get Tony's hopes up like that -- and now the Impossible Duo has a real lead...} ----------------------------------------------------------------- ...and we're clear, racing along the rope to our station. (I can hear Tony saying something incomprehensible behind us: it's kind of hard to curse in surprise with a mouthful of rope.) The tide is higher than it was when we arrived at the beach, and the water laps at our shoes as we unclip the tokens and place them on the workbench. I can hear more footsteps approaching, but it's a single person, not a pair -- Jeff, moving up so he can check any solution. We've been examining the tokens as we've gotten them and called them off to each other so we could get ready for this. All four teams don't have the same arrangement: I passed a red token showing the underwater hunt for Gardener and Phillip, and we don't have one. Maybe if we're really lucky, our open discussion will send someone back into the course looking for a non-existent one that they missed. (Of course, someone would have to lose count first. So probably Tony for the five seconds until Mary-Jane can drag him out by his waist.) "Swim and dig -- got it..." Connie passes me another one. "Blindfolds." And a second. "Wrestling beam." I keep going. "Gross food. Stilts. Memory game." It sounds like someone's getting near the end of the course behind us, and it definitely sounds like Robin, who just told Gary that they're on their tenth. But we're so close... Connie nods. "Balance beam. Target shooting. Sand coffins --" And one to go. "Rope chopping!" We both spin at the same moment in time to see Robin crawling out of the grid, and our voices form an unintentional chorus. "Jeff!" He runs over, it seems to take forever, glances at our workbench in slow motion -- "-- Alex! Connie! Win Reward!" Robin groans and slumps face-first into the sand. Gary echoes her, but stays in his crawl position. Tony curses. Mary-Jane lets her right hand fall open, the token dangling uselessly at the end of the knot. Gardener mutters something I can't make out from two-thirds of the way back into the grid, and Phillip just says "Maybe it's a start," whatever that means. He probably thinks this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship, and all that's needed to prove him wrong is a glance at Connie's face -- -- which finds her giving me a slow, careful survey of a gaze-over. It's very calculating and the first emotional neutrality I've seen her display regarding me. I'm not even remotely comfortable with it. "So," she says slowly, "it looks like you're good for something after all..." That's probably as close to a compliment as I'll ever hear from her. "You said you wouldn't sabotage it and you didn't." Which is as close as she'll ever get to a thanks from me. Connie shrugs. "I wanted the Reward, and you didn't keep me from getting it." A brief pause. "That wasn't a bad idea, stretching across to get that one token early. It's probably what brought us first place." I shrug. "Well, Jeff never said anything about having to go in order..." The trail-off is completely deliberate, as is the follow-up. "At least you didn't try to get me thrown out of the game over that." Both of Connie's thin eyebrows go up, and she looks like she's about to say something -- but then Jeff breaks in. "Connie, Alex -- congratulations. You'll both be spending tonight in the mansion. I've got nothing for the rest of you --" he looks back at the perch "-- except for Azure." She perks up at the sound of her name. "She gets to go home." A grin. "For one night, anyway. Everyone can head on out --" just as soon as Gardener and Phillip figure out how to get clear of the grid. It would probably help if they unclipped from the rope first "-- after we settle one last thing." Damn it! 'If', 'sorry', and pauses! I look up at Jeff. Now what? Connie's not dealing with it very well either. "Jeff -- we won." If he's going to call me on grabbing that one token early, she is now in the very awkward position of having to defend me... He nods. "You won the right to go to the mansion. Now there's two more things to play for. The first is who's sleeping where." He kneels down, reaches behind our workbench and brings up two soft felt bags. "In here, you have tokens representing every challenge. Whoever gets them in the right order first gets the master bedroom. The loser will be in the servant's quarters." A pause -- and then he lets the heaviest Reward shoe to date drop into the black sand. "And you know, you've all been deprived of reading material for a while now -- so the winner will also get a chance to read something. Not here: it'll have to wait until you get home. But you can place a thousand dollars worth of orders on Amazon for anything they carry -- and keep ordering that same amount's worth of merchandise every month for the rest of your life. If you don't spend the full thousand, it'll accumulate and roll over to the next month. Twelve thousand dollars a year to spend at Amazon.com, forever." And now Robin is softly pounding her head against the grid... My feet are completely soaked. I don't care. My entire body is aching or worse from the crawl, loops, climb, and brushes against the grid. I still don't care. I can sell the books. Read them, put them up on eBay in mint condition because I never crack the spines, sell them right back -- I'll get stuff the library doesn't carry and it'll pay for itself... Movies, I can actually watch movies before they hit the public airwaves. No more worries about getting screamed at in and possibly banned from the bookstores. Twelve thousand dollars a year in non-money that I can sell back for enough real cash to cover the taxes plus a little more, it's at least a break-even Reward and I can't possibly make it into a losing proposition... A glance at Connie. Her eyes are lit up, too -- and then they notice mine, narrowing instantly. She wants this too. Who wouldn't? Jeff doesn't even bother asking us if it's worth playing for. He knows. "Alex, go to the green station. Connie, take the blue." We each collect a bag from Jeff, separate from the rope and link, then take our positions. "For the softest bed on the island and what's effectively twelve thousand bonus dollars a year to buy whatever you like --" Connie, eat my dust. "-- go!" ----------------------------------------------------------------- {Alex and Connie just won something. Together. I'm going to repeat that until I believe it, and I hope this site has enough memory capacity to hold about seventeen billion copies of the previous sentences. Alex and Connie just won something...} {Listen to the music here as they're talking. Reconciliation! Friendship! Eternal vows of loyalty! An exchange of phone numbers!} {A complete and utter train wreck of a derailment!} {Oh. Oh, wow.} {What a Reward! I'd rather have that than the car! The car is cursed: Amazon isn't. And cars wear out. This is twelve thousand dollars a year in strictly-spending money for the rest of your life.} {And they both very clearly know it.} {Alex and Connie to their stations -- very grim determination on Connie's face, Alex will just have more of her usual. Jeff gives the signal, and we're off!} {Close-ups on the tokens and the hands working them -- back out to faces: they're both trying for this and they both know the material, it's a question of whose reflexes are faster...} {Just like Jeff: always ask a question you already know the answer to.} {I want to try saying it, just to see what it feels like. Alex! Wins Reward! -- hey, not bad.} {And she's exactly as thrilled about it as you'd expect. Quietly walks up to Jeff, accepts a card from him, he tells her the account number on it will access Amazon and she can place her first order from the mansion and everything else after she gets home -- probably starting this week: wonder if the rollover covers the months between then and now? -- then heads off the beach with Azure. Connie trails behind her, looking really pissed. Of all the Rewards to miss... and so much for any reconciliation between them. Not that it had much of a chance to begin with -- commercials.} {Yeah, this is one of the best things to emerge from the sponsorship parade. Again: wow. I can't name a contestant who wouldn't have taken that. Well, maybe Big Tom, at least before he really got a handle on the whole 'reading' thing.} {Now: if Amazon goes under, what happens?} {Probably the same thing that would happen if BP ran out of gas. Suffering. Of course, if BP runs out of gas, the oil companies won't have let us switch and we're all going to die, but gee, the people with the free gas cards will hurt so much more than we will.} {Is anyone else still in shock, seeing those two work together that well?} {Think about what Connie said to Cole after the first part of the challenge ended. They clearly agreed not to hold each other back. Both of them wanted that primary Reward and they cooperated with each other to get it. I've said it before: Connie is not an unintelligent player -- and regardless of what I may feel regarding Cole, I will not make Angela's mistake and call her stupid. They agreed to agree, at least for a short duration. As a result, they both benefited.} {Agreed. They put their differences aside and went for it. But I can pretty much guarantee you that it'll be the only time. Connie acted in her own best self-interests: she may want the cosmetics more than the four walls and a roof. But what else could Alex ever do that would be in line with what Connie wanted?} {Easy. Give her a fifth vote -- you know, I almost got all the way through that without laughing.} {And we're back! Dinner at camp, a little before sunset -- Alex sitting in the shelter, turning the Amazon card over and over in her hands, just quietly looking at it. She glances at Azure on another pallet. "You're going home." And then -- I could just barely make this out, and Burnett had to subtitle it -- "I wonder what that feels like..." All together now: aw... barf.} {Hey, Burnett? It's not like she sleeps on the street.} {Different people have different definitions of 'home'. It's not just where you sleep.} {Yeah -- hearth and fire, dinner table, loneliness thread. Keep pushing that theory if you want to, but I'm never going to believe it.} {Confessional from Connie: "Typical. I finally find something I can use Alex for, and then Jeff gets to give her a little bonus at the end. I'm still looking forward to seeing the mansion, but the experience has been soured now." A disgusted look at the camera. "Why not just say 'We decided there was a special prize for jaguar-killing: take it and let the rest of them play for something'? Watch: the car challenge will be a puzzle. And the car won't come with driver's side airbags, because the driver already does." The reconciliation train has left the station. And caught fire.} {Some semi-good natured humor from the others over dinner... Tony shrugs and says he doesn't read much anyway, and Gardener chimes in with "A textbook a month. Big deal." Gary wants to know how Alex is going to spend it, and Alex isn't sure -- a book here, a movie there. Robin points out that Amazon ships non-perishable groceries, possibly on camera cue. Alex looks very mildly intrigued.} {The boat pulls up to the shore, Alex and Connie get on without looking at each other, both carrying their bags. Connie glancing at Azure as Alex pets her feathers. "Do you have to bring that thing?" Alex shrugs, says it's Azure's home and she has more right to it than any of them. Connie tells Alex that the world is the home for humans and animals are set there to serve us: they don't have ownership rights. Alex doesn't say anything to that: just watches the ocean go by. And now PETA has a new target for those nasty letters, because Connie's going to have a hard time claiming she was just defending her own life. Lifestyle, maybe...} {It's a distortion of a Biblical quote. I can look up chapter and verse later.} {Getting into twilight now -- boat going past Haraiki's old camp, past that one challenge site, starting to see a building through the trees, Alex looking out over the bow of the boat, still quiet, still neutral, but you can kind of tell she's anticipating something. Connie still in her seat.} {Here's a dock: the fanciest one to date, even if it's a little worn down. We're at the bottom of a small rock rise, with steps going up. (I think I saw a small lifting platform off to the side -- must have been for deliveries.) Alex and Connie climbing the stairs, Azure is starting to look really excited...} {We only got a glimpse the first time: a bit of the exterior, a hallway, the production area, and the medical bay. This is going to be the full treatment.} {Music swelling -- brace for the schmaltz shot...} -----------------------------------------------------------------   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Colonel Zoidberg 3370 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Car Show Celebrity" 10-13-06, 04:01 PM (EST) 4. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Part III" Wow. Kind of makes my surf and turf reward look paltry by comparison...but I suppose if they're beating Borneo, they can handle it just fine. Note to self: for next summer's fanfic, don't do the "one new car every four years for life" reward...though I might have just read Estee's mind...in which case I apologize...   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

cahaya 14104 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-14-06, 01:08 AM (EST) 5. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Part III" Ah... a visit to the billionaire's mansion coming up! Who knows, it might be haunted. Foo dogs by Tribe "This is what America does: raises people up so it can tear them down again." -- Estee, S:SI.   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Belle Book 1925 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Herbal Healing Drugs Endorser" 01-11-09, 01:24 PM (EST) 26. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Part III" I once did a Daria fanfic called "Mole? Somebody get me a dermatologist!" It was a crossover involving Daria and The Mole. In it, Daria is tricked by her best friend, Jane, and her then-boyfriend, Tom Sloane, into applying for The Mole, only it's The Mole with teenagers! Anyway, one of the contestants that I created, a guy named Keith, becomes so convinced that Daria is the Mole (and she wasn't) that he came off like a jerk. And in one challenge, the two are randomly paired together! Keith said, "I'm to be paired with the Mole?" Daria said, "I'm to be paired with him?" And Tom asked, "Why do I have the funny feeling this is going to be a total disaster?" That's pretty much what it seemed like to everyone when Alex & Connie were paired together by random draw, I'll bet! At least Alex & Connie were able to work together towards a common goal! I think Daria would've been able to work with Keith, but Keith was less flexible than Connie in that area, and sure enough it was a disaster for them! But this challenge just reminded me of my own story, and it was worth a good laugh for me! Belle Book   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-18-06, 11:09 PM (EST) 6. "I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Part IV" LAST EDITED ON 10-28-06 AT 12:35 PM (EST) Before ----------------------------------------------------------------- {Topic title: Alex vs. Nature: the aftermath.} {Crossing over from the Great TV Guide Swap Meet here, but I think their comments about Alex are relevant, even if they were written before the jaguar incident. 'Who is this? We've watched players fall into the show's major categories before. The Schemer. The Flirt. The Liar. The Athlete. We've never seen The Cartoonist, and much of the show's appeal in this strangest of seasons has come from trying to figure out just who's on the screen in front of us -- and what she might do next. Angela has made exactly one world-class blunder to date: she's openly underestimated Alex. (Desmond made the same mistake, and look what happened to him.) As the weakest challenge threat among the remaining Turare, Alex is likely to be the last of the minority tribe voted out. All that does is give her more time to work. A few days, a few talks, and there just might be a new alliance subgroup formed under Angela's nose -- Phillip/Robin/Alex, anyone? -- and a fresh shot at the Final Three. Which would give the show that many more episodes to explore exactly what they've found here. Not the island. The contestant. The battle to discover which one is the bigger mystery may come down to a tie. Odds of winning: 12 to 1.' As long as we win the race to figure out that answer first...} ----------------------------------------------------------------- During ----------------------------------------------------------------- There are three lights at the top of the stairs: portable stage towers set up to give us a pool of illumination. Jeff is standing in the middle of it, and we stepped onto the edge as we reached level ground. Between the near-daylight conditions we're standing in, the darkness around us, and the placement of the high-powered bulbs, it's impossible to see anything beyond the circle. Jeff nods to us as we approach him, partially for lack of anything better to do and mostly because we have to believe we're expected to. Personally, I want to get it over with and move past him just so I can stop using 'we'. And the electric lights seem -- unnatural, somehow. There's sunlight, there's moonlight, and there's dark. Electricity just isn't a natural part of the island, and Jeff looks like he knows it: something under his expression seems to be saying he wants this over with quickly. Azure spreads her wings a little and nuzzles her head against mine. I wonder what she's thinking. Maybe she's wondering where the sound of falling rain is coming from, because there wasn't a cloud in the sky during our entire approach. "Okay, guys -- there's a few ground rules," Jeff tells us. "First, you won't have access to the full mansion. We've roped off the areas which you can't cross into. Basically, anything that's being used by the show for housing, production, editing -- off limits. The jury will be staying on the top floor, so you can't go there either." With what could be a small twinkle in his eye, "Not that there'd be any point -- Angela's been moved off-site for the night. But any area that's blocked with a red rope can't be entered. Understood?" I nod. Connie nods. Azure says "Could You Repeat The Question?" Jeff blinks -- then shakes his head. "Yes, no, maybe -- later..." A weird touch of sing-song there. "Second: you can explore the grounds in the morning, but we expect you to stay in the mansion tonight. And lastly, yes, you're getting camera operators in your rooms. Each of you will be expected to deliver at least one confessional while you're here. Clear?" The humans assent: Azure doesn't have a response for that one. "All right -- on three. One -- two -- three --" -- the spotlights go out, the lights around the mansion come on -- -- it's five stories high, maybe four hundred feet from one end to the other and the wings curl, following the curve of a driveway to nowhere, a circle moving endlessly around a fountain that's shooting water thirty feet into the night sky, the perpetual fall cascading around a statue of a featureless man holding a spear -- the hidden idol!, and Connie gasps as she recognizes the inspiration for the game's smaller piece of temporary protection. The building itself is an almost uniform very dirty white, starting from the Greek columns at the multi-tier stairway entrance (about eight feet up, twenty steps needed to cross it, one landing): most of the color distortion seems to be from grime that's built up over the years. There's also a strong dose of green in the mix: vines grown up and over a few of the windows, bushes all over the place sprouting into strange shapes -- my imagination insists on seeing someone holding a knife within a leafy shadow -- and what must have once been flowerbeds, overgrown and running across bluegrass. There's a small white building with a red roof off to the right, a little cleaner than the central residence. A large door is open there, revealing stored camera equipment. On the left, a helicopter landing pad, occupied. Large metal bars cross the windows on the lower two floors. Several of the glass panels on the third floor are broken. Lights here and there, shadows moving behind the curtains, the flicker of TV screens: people working. Scattered around the grounds are more statues: hunters and prey. Theodore Roosevelt and a bear. That's a hydra, so the man has to be Hercules. Knight and dragon... but that one has vines wrapped around the stone sword. Follow that line, look in the direction the dragon's head is pointing, and the left edge of the mansion is fire-damaged: nothing burnt away, but discolored and scorched from the base to about three stories off the ground, and the first of the completely missing windows. The arc of the wings follows a third of the circle: arms spread out to embrace or squeeze to death. The driveway's full curve is mathematically precise. The drops that fall from the fountain, some of the spray going askew, add a random element to the human attempt at perfection. The one that failed. Azure looks at me -- then looks at the mansion -- and says one word. "Home." Jeff's voice is soft. He's standing behind us, giving the camera our first reactions for the primary shot. He's seen it before. "There are twenty guest rooms. Twenty-five quarters for servants. Four kitchens. Dozens of bathrooms. Museum zones dedicated to the history of hunting. A huge library -- same topic. Some areas are more intact than others. No one tried to take the books. Some of the private exhibits are missing. The trophy heads -- all present, as far as we can tell: there aren't many 'before' pictures in existence. We tried to find some of the old servants, but no one wanted to identify themselves as such, let alone talk about what happened..." Connie beats me to the question. "How did he die?" Not exactly quiet and respectful, but not harsh, either. Forceful. She wants this question answered and she wants it answered now. "It wasn't in the briefing book." To which Jeff simply says "We don't know." Quietly, "Something else no one will talk about. The favorite theory is that he finally had an animal get the best of him, but there's a good chance he just had a heart attack or something similar in the field: he was getting up there in years. What we do know is what we've pieced together: that the servants did grab things and ran, but with no organization -- take the lightest things possible and get off the island by the fastest route available. If it wasn't in the direct path of their exit, it was left behind. If it was heavy, it was abandoned. And that includes some of their own possessions: a lot of those rooms had clothing in the drawers. And then -- time passed. Rumors spread that he'd died -- someone must have talked -- but no one would come to the island because of its reputation. But once enough time passed, once he could be declared legally dead -- that's when the prospective heirs started coming out of the woodwork. And eventually, the stories reached us -- and we came." "Nothing at all for details?" Me, very softly. It's not as if I can upset Azure, but... "If someone talked..." "The most we ever got," Jeff tells us, "was this." His voice drops, takes on bits and pieces of a musical accent, the orchestra with sections missing. "'He went the way he deserved to go. That's what I was told, and that's what I'm telling you.' From the judge who finally gave us permission to use the place. And he followed it with 'Make sure you don't deserve the same before you get there.'" These words emerge very, very carefully: "I know we had a few crew members running for the nearest church and confessional after that one." Connie shivers. "I hate these superstitious backwaters..." Jeff doesn't have a comment for that. Instead, he goes with "Head inside, guys -- I'll show you to your rooms." We move forward, Jeff getting in front of us a few steps along, camera operators preceding him. (One of them is the woman who films my confessionals: she came with us on the boat.) I think the bushes were originally supposed to be topiary shapes, but I can't make out what they were once carved into. Animals, probably. A thorny growth of roses forms a barrier on Connie's side, and she steps around it. The roof arcs out about four feet, casting the fifth floor into deeper shadows. Up the stairs, marble, but there's a crack in the landing, somehow a seed got into the stone after it was damaged and blades of grass are sprouting from the depths -- blades of Frank's grass... ...dirty white doors, the handles recently cleaned. Jeff opens them, and we head inside -- -- civilization. Technology. The strange foreign feel of what should be a version of my normal reality, but goes too far past it to ever work into a solid vision of the world. Lots of wood. Mahogany. The dark stairs have a runner of rich red carpet running across them, banisters of cold-cast iron, curling patterns along the sides which remind me of the art designs for the season. We have stepped up to gain the option of stepping down: eight feet back to the ground floor, or five up to the second. And torches, real ones, but not like ours: old-fashioned small ones set into brass brackets, extinguished, probably never-lit, not with cleverly-placed lights in recessed cubbyholes making it look almost like a strange shade of firelight is illuminating the interior. Paintings visible on the second-story landing, bright colors to offset the somber wood, the lights flickering just enough to add to the impression of flame, and Azure snuggled tight against me... ...Connie sharply inhales. "That's a Picasso." Jeff nods. "And why the servants left it, we'll never know." Grinning, "If we could have used it for one of your Rewards, we would have -- but then we remembered it's worth more than first place..." Which winds up coming across as sobering to my ears. Yes, we're playing for a million dollars, and one of those remaining will win it. But it's a very small amount of money compared to what some people accumulate -- -- and it's still so much more than I've ever believed I could have -- -- or probably will have... As Jeff would say, it's a seven in eight chance against. And at that, the odds he's giving me may be a little too good. Jeff glances at Connie. "I'll take you to your room. You've got what we think was the quarters for the head of the staff -- it's larger than the other servant's rooms, and there's a very good bath. Alex, wait here?" I nod, and they head off with Connie taking a long look at the Picasso before she clears my range of sight -- and a longer one at me. She's unhappy again. The best of the servant's rooms is still asking her to room with the former servants. She probably thinks it's beneath her somehow. She'll probably be beneath me, anyway: if the servants slept on the second floor -- no, that's presuming, there's got to be more staircases around here somewhere, probably elevators... I turn to my confessional filmer. "Where is she going?" Why not? And much to my surprise, I get an answer. "About a hundred feet to the left, then up one flight and she's there." A shrug. "We're mostly on the fourth floor, in the lesser quarters. Connie's actually getting Jeff's room for the night." Really? Jeff's placed himself with the servants -- it feels like an odd choice, but... Well, there was a gold eagle in there. Well-paid servants, anyway, or ones who knew just what could go missing. "You're going down -- the master bedroom is on the first floor." Which deserves a blink. "The first floor?" No 'I am the master of all I survey, not to mention the master gardener' with the elevation to get a little more surveying in? Another shrug. "Go figure." She gives me a long look. "I do want a confessional once you get settled in a little." "I understand." Five minutes to get comfortable and then ten to be taken out of it. We wait -- and after a count of seven hundred and twelve, Jeff returns. "Come on, Alex -- this way." As promised, he heads downstairs, and I follow. More paintings along this trail. Artists I recognize, ones I don't. A Pollock that seems to radiate raw power, then a forest scene with menace lurking in the trees, the flickers from electric torchlight lending a gleam to painted yellow eyes. The hallway is narrow here, closed doors on both sides. A light scent of dust: the place has been cleaned enough to make it habitable, but abandonment is close and pressing in. Thick carpeting under my feet. Walking is easier here, my aching body starting to recognize that some form of temporary solace may be just ahead. Look up and find frescoes carved into the ceiling, wood vines and monkeys climbing through them -- -- Jeff stops at the same moment Azure begins to excitedly shift on my shoulder. "Through here," he says, pointing at a large cherrywood door with an ornate golden handle. Very possibly real gold. "There's a computer on the desk -- we managed to wire a hot spot for you. It'll go to Amazon and nowhere else." Which is a small form of torture: if nothing else, I wanted to see if my site was auto-updating or if I'll have a horrible mess to untangle when I get back -- maybe jury members can use the imported computers to do more... "Enjoy the room, have a good soak, film your confessional, and get some sleep. I'll see you tomorrow at the Immunity challenge." Either Azure really, really wants to go in there or she's working up to a major case of diarrhea. "Jeff?" He looks at me, eyes questioning. "Azure's perches...?" "...came from the mansion," he finishes for me. "But they came from the museum rooms -- there were some stuffed birds of prey there. We never found any in the other rooms. Odd things to steal, but we don't know what the servants were thinking. There's enough surfaces around that she could have perched on comfortably -- maybe she just didn't use them." He shrugs. "There's one in there tonight, though." I nod. Okay -- but that's weird. Or maybe the end of the bed is just the right shape. "All right. Good night, Jeff." Assuming he can get any sleep now that Connie's effectively kicked him out of bed. "Good night, Alex." He heads back up the hallway -- and gone. It's just me and my confessional filmer, plus a very likely waiting camera operator in the bedroom itself for the capture of the arrival shot. Azure's shifting is getting faster, and her claws are starting to tighten... "I'm moving, parrot." It's a simple press-down latch: no visible lock. I open the door -- -- how can a bed be ten feet long? Fourteen feet wide? That's not a bed for a single person: that's an island of threads floating in a sea of carpet, ready to set sail across The Bay Of Orgy. It's so high off the rich burgundy plush that it needs a three-step sliding staircase to get into sleeping range. Canopy overhead, curtains that can be drawn around the perimeter for extra privacy, a writing desk that's a match for the one in the voting blind, only this one has a laptop on it. One loaned perch. Strangely-shaped chairs that look like they've escaped from a museum, or had at least been outbid away from one. Wooden carvings circling the room at shoulder height, hunters and prey chasing each other in an eternal circle, the hidden idol come back to stalk the walls. A darkwood wardrobe richly decorated in plant motifs, which contains either thousands of dollars in suits or a passage to another world, take your pick. More furniture, just as old as the chairs, drawers with gold handles. A black door on the left with an odd pearl sheen to the wood. No paintings, no dark or pale spots on the walls that indicate where they once might have hung. Eight electric torch mounts. One fireplace. A pole running along the foot of the bed that is in fact just right for Azure, who flies to it and perches there, somehow looking happier than I've ever seen her. "Home! Home!" I sigh. "Don't get used to it. I won't be back here for at least two days and we won't get to use this bedroom again." Then again -- "Well, I won't." Azure will probably get the run of the mansion. No perches -- where did she go to the bathroom when she was in here? Maybe in the bathroom, which has to be through the black pearl door. Open it, and -- -- what is with this man and stairs? Marble here, a slanting wall against the bedroom side decorated with more of those plush towels, gold and silver inlays, the toilet is about what you'd expect because there's just not much you can do with one, and there's also a urinal that I won't be using plus something that I think is a bidet, but the sink is huge and the mirror is surprisingly large for what I'm presuming was a male-only bathroom -- no one's ever said anything about the billionaire being married, but I just can't make myself picture it. The bathtub, however, is going to need a redescription to 'the pool'. Climb up five lightly carpeted stairs and reach a oval pond that's twelve feet across at the longest point, eight across the barrel -- reach the summit, peer down through the gouts of steam -- call it four feet deep here, but that's in the center and it's barely visible through the thickening bubbles. There are areas contoured to let the occupant lie down with their head out of the water (and shift that to the plural on numbers at the other end), maybe a splash fight in the middle of the pool, bubble jets in one shallow section, it looks like the water fills from the bottom up -- no, lost sight of the opening: the bubbles are filling in... I haven't taken a bath in -- and discard the thought. It's been a while, anyway: all I have in the apartment is an underpowered shower. Someone giggles behind me, and I turn to see Azure stepping out of the floor-to-head-height urinal. She's very clearly just used it. Answers that question. The urinal automatically flushes as both camera operators film it, openly amused. I look them over. "Any chance of getting a few minutes to myself here?" My confessional filmer looks up at me, which is kind of refreshing in itself. "Do you need to use the toilet?" Well, now that she mentions it... "Yes." And because there is no way I'm leaving this bathroom without trying it, "And the tub." She shakes her head. "Take a minute for the rest of it, but once you're in the tub, I'm coming in. That's where we're filming the confessional." Sedately, "Why do you think we added all those bubbles?" Because blur technology is really expensive to use? And there goes most of my prospective enjoyment... I sigh. Azure sighs. I glare at her, then turn back to the confessional filmer. "Fine. Come back in -- ten minutes." Whatever that works out to be, because there wasn't a single clock in the bedroom. "I'll be in the shallow end, trying to think of any reason to get out in under a day..." ----------------------------------------------------------------- After ----------------------------------------------------------------- (From the CBS website, Survivor Gold section: Alex's twentieth confessional, unedited for premium subscribers.) {ALEX is in the huge bathtub, sunken low into the thick white bubbles. She's really only visible from the neck up and along her left arm, which has the bandaged portion resting on the edge. (From the way the bubbles are resting, it looks like several of them were deliberately piled up by hand for maximum coverage. It's working: there isn't an inch of blur in sight.) AZURE is at the right edge of the camera frame, looking curiously at the water while being careful not to come too close. ALEX looks just a little bit resigned. And perhaps somewhat unhappy.} "This would be a lot easier if you weren't here." {Off-camera voice prompt, female: 'This doesn't have to be a long one.'} {frustrated} "But you'll stay in the room after we're done. This is not a time when I'm going to do something strategic." {'We're at the point where we can't count on that with you. How do you feel, physically?'} "A little better. I've been healing, and the hot water helps." {looks around the room} "I guess this is what a spa feels like, but I don't want to risk the air jets -- it'll probably be like getting hit a couple of thousand times." {'You're still pretty bruised up.'} "I haven't looked." {ruefully} "Which is taking a lot of effort this time, but the bits I can see are bad enough without getting the full picture. I think I'll be okay by the Council after this one, but the key is going to be getting there." {'Who do you think Haraiki's primary target is?'} "If Tony's looking for revenge? Me. It'll be easy enough to get Connie to agree on that one. But it's not normal game strategy -- 'eat the strong' is usually in effect until you run out of 'strong', so it might be Gardener again. But either way, I have to -- or maybe just sort of want to -- believe it's four-four." {weary} "Gary told me he's been trying to get Robin, but he can't find something solid to offer her, and he wants to make sure he's got a definite boot order in place before he tells her what she can try to Immunity her way out of. He also said Connie wants him -- and he said it was a Final Three offer. I couldn't blame him for taking that if it was real, but who knows? It's probably just as phony as Angela's offer to Mary-Jane." {'Who were the other two if Gary was Final Three?'} "Connie, naturally -- and Tony." {sighs} "I don't know about that one. Connie can probably play a lot of cards --" {quickly} "-- or jury angles if she winds up sitting next to Tony, but Gary? Problem. I think Gary sees it, too... at this point, people are starting to think about who they'll look good sitting next to in the Final Two. Realistically, it's too early, but if you dream, you plot. And with eight left, everyone dreams." {'Do you?'} "No. Phillip took care of that." {'You've been wearing it almost constantly. During the last challenge, at meals, while you sleep...'} "I'll wear the scars constantly. I might as well have the claws to go with them." {'Given how much Phillip seems to like you, have you given any thoughts to trying to swing him?'} {wearily} "Swing votes at four-four... sure. Right. And Phillip. You could almost think Phillip likes me, sure. You could think Phillip likes everyone. Unless you asked Robin, and then she'd probably say he was just pretending..." {very tired} {used in episode} "I'll try talking to Robin, but I don't know what she'll believe. Phillip won't go anywhere, and everyone knows it. Tony and Connie are in the 'yeah, right' category. We are doomed for the tie. Unless..." {end episode-used exert} {'Unless what?'} "Unless someone else can do what I can't." {'Gary?'} "No, but you're close." {sinks a little deeper into the tub} "This is helping me feel better. And I can't tell anyone back at camp about it, or they'll get jealous... Connie's probably got a big tub, but not like this." {pause} "We managed to work together long enough to win the Reward. but it's not like it's changed anything. I wish I could hear some of her confessionals -- I bet I get a lot of air time in them." {'We're thinking about doing a subscriber program for this season -- let people see selected, unedited confessionals. That would give you the chance to see for yourself.'} "I can't afford it." {shrugs, with the shoulders just barely visible at the uppermost point of the rise. There's some bruising visible at the front.} {'And if it's free for contestants?'} "Then I probably don't want to hear it after all." {sighs} "Because by then, it'll be too late." {'Just curious -- would you ever vote for Connie if she was Final Two and you were on the jury? You said you would vote for Angela -- it doesn't seem as if you hold grudges when it comes to your prospective vote.'} "It's like Angela. It all depends on what she does to get there." {carefully} "There's been times when I've wondered if Connie's been playing a character. Get people angry, be disagreeable, play the bitch factor, make it look like she's the one you most want to be next to at Final Two -- and then she'll turn around, rip off the mask, reveal her true, kind and gentle self, then say 'Got you!' That might be worth a vote right there. Eventually, someone's going to play that as a strategy all the way through and have it work. I thought Jon might do it, but he didn't make it and from everything I've seen, he's really like that..." {'Do you believe that's what she's doing?'} {firmly} "No." {sinks just a little bit lower as AZURE wanders out of frame} "Because she's not hateful enough with everyone. Mostly just with me. I don't know what Connie's full game is. But she's got one edge. Unless she's sitting next to another Haraiki at Final Two, then Haraiki will have the majority on the jury. Any single Haraiki facing the jury would have that advantage. If people voted strictly along tribal lines..." {'Things don't always work out that way. Mary-Jane proved that.'} "That's Council. People vote differently on the jury." {softly} "People vote their hate." ----------------------------------------------------------------- During ----------------------------------------------------------------- My clothes are gone by the time I finally get out of the tub: it looks like this Reward comes with laundry service. It also comes with the extra towel (on loan), a cotton terrycloth bathrobe (oversized and also on loan), and silk pajamas (ditto and ibid). There's a toothbrush on the side of the sink, along with the latest sponsor to make the show -- Crest Luminous -- plus a lot of cosmetics which I have no idea how to use. I dry off with the towel, put on my cleanest bra and panties, tie the robe tightly around my body, decide to pass on the pajamas for a while, put the cross under the robe and the claw necklace over it, go over to brush my teeth -- -- no, I'm covered enough. I can face the mirror without seeing just how many injuries my body is sporting. But it's not saving me from seeing my face. It's perceptibly gaunter than usual, cheekbones better defined, eyes somehow deeper than ever. I've lost some weight, and a few of those missing ounces used to be in this view. My hair is clean, and the shade hasn't changed, but it feels like there's an odd weight to it. I slowly reach up and feel the texture: normal. Maybe there's a level of dirt that just doesn't go away. My fingernails are ragged, with broken edges here and there: I lost one on the last challenge. Not enough calcium in my diet lately, no supplement tablets cheaper than milk to swallow once a day. There's some discoloration around my wrists: general shockwave damage, or just hitting the bamboo too hard. I look -- not older. Not more mature, sophisticated, anything like that. There's a difference beyond the weight loss, but I can't pin it down. Harder, maybe -- more experienced, somehow -- -- more savage. And my irises seem to go yellow in the flickering false flames, just for a moment -- -- I blink. The image goes away. It's just me in the mirror again. I don't like looking at myself in the mirror any more than I like doing self-portraits. I know what I look like. I don't see much of a need to share it with the rest of the world. And I came here anyway. Ignore the cosmetics, take Azure's abruptly-returning weight on my shoulder as a welcome distraction, go back out into the bedroom, and head right for the computer. I have a thousand dollars to spend on anything Amazon has to offer. This is not a position I've gotten to be in before this and now I'll get to experience it once a month for the rest of my life. Groceries. If nothing else, I can always eat. Turn on the screen, look at the little time display in disbelief -- apparently this laptop is still on California Standard -- type in the number from the card, get the welcoming screen for Survivor Challenge Winner!, Azure gets bored and wanderers off, start shopping... ...and spend nothing. Thirty-four actual measured minutes, and I haven't bought a thing. I've looked at a lot of things. I've looked up pieces I've always wished I could have. I've even found electronics I could use. Small appliances, too. I just can't bring myself to commit to anything. Not because I don't have enough money or can't prioritize for future months, but because I won't see any results for a long time, and given that, there doesn't seem to be any point in creating the anticipation... For the benefit of the cameras, "I guess I'll let it roll over and make a larger purchase later." And I'm starting to feel tired: mansion exploration can wait for the morning. The earlier I go to bed, the sooner I can get up and look around. Figure an extra hour just to draw what I've seen so far... and there's the first yawn. Yes, it's getting late. Even California might agree. "Azure?" Where is she? Somewhere in this room -- oh, there. On the left of the wardrobe. Just standing there, looking oddly patient. "Bedtime. I'll leave the bathroom door open for you." Now, where's the switch to turn these fake torches off? It has to be somewhere around here, but I'm not seeing anything that looks like a light switch. I try clapping my hands twice. Nothing happens. "Azure -- lights?" That doesn't work either: she just stays where she is, waiting for me to work it out. So much for the parrot trained to kill the power on command. "Maybe it's worked into the carvings." I start looking. Nothing. That leg is a leg: immobile. The spear is just a spear, or a carved wooden representation of same. The camera steadily films the search: it'll probably make for a mildly funny moment if the editors are desperate for filler. Why point to the switch when you can record a six-hour hunt for it? Okay... maybe it'll be easier to spot in another room. I step out into the hallway, go one door's worth of deeper into the mansion as my confessional filmer -- the lone camera operator left -- follows me, open it. The lights come on as the door crosses the twenty-degree mark. Figures. This is a reading room: definitely not the main library, but an area to curl up with a selected volume or six. Reading lamp and big easy chair in the center, some shelves, a little larger than the master bedroom, a book sitting on the footrest, open to a dusty display of Colt pistols through the ages. No help whatsoever. The lights turn on when you come in. What turns them off? The lights didn't shut off behind me when I left the bedroom, and I still can't see any switch. Out, back up the hallway towards the staircase, try the next door. Extra distance here, accounting for the bathroom, but then I get a look at a partially-emptied room. This was probably the gallery for the Painting Of The Week: several pieces are on the walls, and there's chairs to sit in with good viewing angles for gazing at them -- but a few spots hold bare wall. Either taken or not filled in at the time of death. What was the plan when the mansion was raided? Grab whatever wasn't nailed down and ignore anything hanging from a nail? Again, the room is a little larger than the bedroom, the lights came on when I opened the door, I still can't find a light switch -- -- hold it. Back to the bedroom. Into the bathroom. This wall slants out from the door. And the master bedroom is a little smaller than the two rooms on either side of it -- which are matching sizes. And Azure is still standing in the same place. Waiting for something. "You have got to be kidding me..." Or not. It's not a light switch, but if I have that slant spotted correctly and I've got the interior distance worked out right -- -- open the wardrobe. No suits. Casual clothing, mostly for the outdoors. Some camouflage items. The billionaire was shorter than I've pictured him: maybe Connie's height. Still very expensive casual clothing: he had that in common with Connie, too. Very musty in here. I push my way in as Azure maintains her position. The back contains a smooth rear surface, a few shoes, and a complete lack of winter-locked woods. My confessional filmer has no idea what I'm doing. I'm not sure I do. What I'm doing may look like it's just this side of insane, but all that space has to add up to something, right? Okay. Not the wardrobe. Azure's under one of the torches... Walk over, reach up, stretch, try not to moan as my muscles protest the extension, grab the torch mount and pull -- -- the torch comes out. It's real wood, ready to be lit, and it nearly lands on my foot: Azure gets out of the way with a squawk of protest. Three heartbeats later, a section of the wall slides inward, and a light clicks on inside the wall. Azure forgets her distress and immediately flies to my shoulder. I blink. I'd never thought it would work. All of fiction may insist that a mansion isn't worth the effort to build unless you throw in a few secret passageways, but reality has other plans... "I thought it was always the candlestick." Not that there are any in here, but it's very traditional in stories. Maybe there's a History Of Candlesticks room on the fifth floor... My confessional filmer, her eyes wide and excited, is gesturing towards the opening: she needs me to go inside, she can't film it unless I do, the anticipation on her face is almost painful to see -- and she's completely forgotten to call for backup. One quick look, and I find out I'm not going anywhere just yet. This isn't a passageway, it's a stairwell: one narrow area, complete with iron banister, heading down. But only the first bulb is working: the others have burnt out or were just too old to activate again. The stairs descend into darkness, and the inner surface of the walls is -- disturbing. White, spongy to the touch, lots of little holes. It looks like heavy-duty soundproofing. I'm not going down there without seeing where I'm going. Time to check the obvious source. "Do you have a flashlight on that thing?" She shakes her head. "Night vision enhancement -- which doesn't help you." 'No, you don't get to hold the camera.' "I can call someone..." Another glance into the stairwell. It's still dark. I tried to get claws to come out of my fingertips yesterday and it didn't work. Obviously I didn't get the night vision either. Maybe the jaguar had to be radioactive. "No -- just give me a minute." I've got the cross with me: it takes less than a hundred heartbeats to get the torch going over the sink. No fire prevention system sends water spraying into my hair. Probably not enough smoke, plus it would have to account for the fireplace. Back out, into the secret stairwell, Azure staying with me and wriggling with excitement, down -- -- ten steps. Twenty. Thirty. Going deep, my camera operator close behind. The air is strange here. Musty, with undertones of something else. Azure's virtually doing wind sprints on my shoulders, moving as if the only thing keeping her from flying is my being here with her, she just has to share what's at the bottom with me. Forty steps now, and still going deeper. The musty smell is getting stronger. Stale air. Dust. No one's been here in years. Whispers behind me, updates to the crew on what's happening, reinforcements presumably on the way. I can barely hear them: I'm listening ahead, and all I'm getting is silence. Fifty steps. The bottom one is visible now. Nearly five stories underground: this place goes as far below as above. No door: just a tiny fragment of hallway and then what the flamelight is showing as the start of a larger space beyond. Azure in open delight. Bottom step, three paces forward -- -- just enough of the lights automatically come on -- -- not a natural cave, but it wants to be one so very badly, the vaulting in the earth, rough walls, a ceiling thirty feet above us rough with reinforcements that could almost be stalactites but they're just trying to keep the whole thing from coming down, can't see the far walls because that area is in darkness still, but there's enough light to reflect off the nearest cage, bones inside, no skin, just dust on the floor of the cage, the skeletons fallen apart but with legs still in manacles, empty eye sockets staring at me, wanting to know where I've been because I'm the master, Azure is with me so I must be the master, she's crying out at the top of her lungs and what she's saying is "Home! Home!" over and over again, there's a parrot perch right next to the entrance, mummified treats in the dishes, skulls here and there and everywhere, so many cages, thick iron bars, cattle prods propped against the sides, if you lunge against the manacles while someone's standing nearby you'll pay for it, I want to look for char marks on the bones but there's no point, someone is vomiting and it's not me -- This is where he kept them. The thought is too calm. I don't know why. There's another entrance somewhere, a larger one, so that the animals could be brought down here for storage. And he'd come down to look at his private zoo, study the prey before it was released. The jaguar was here. Everything was here. Explore more, and I'll probably find that entrance. Maybe a food storage area. It's very likely that the servants had to come down here to feed them, and who wouldn't run, with the billionaire gone and a dozen kinds of fresh death lurking below the mansion? A secret stairway that didn't have to be secret at all, it just fit his style, or he did all the feeding himself and let the servants wonder what lurked below. -- a baker's dozen of cages visible in the lit area. One against the near wall. Manacles on the floor, manacles higher up. Wrist height. Bones in the cage. Bones that look like fingers... Slowly, I walk over. Azure is still with me, but the chanting has stopped. It sounds like my confessional filmer has staggered to her feet, and then it sounds like she's right behind me. I'm barely paying attention. The manacles are so thick, the chains heavy, those are finger bones, something with a hand, something that could feel and manipulate and use tools -- -- but the shape -- -- two dozen empty sockets watch me as I kneel down, reach through the bars, touch the fallen skull and draw it closer to me. Wrong size. Wrong shape. Wrong everything. Gorilla. I set the skull down and look around. More cages, so many cages, and every one holding death -- -- there, one that could look close in an exceptionally dim light to a terrified mind, but there's orange fur still surviving at the bottom: orangutan. Too low and a familiar skull shape: chimpanzee. No humans. It probably means nothing. People could have been locked into guest rooms until he was ready for that hunt. Keep humans in human cages. But it doesn't feel right... Softly, spoken from the core of purest instinct, meant for Azure to hear, not believing there's anything else that can or wants to, "Absolved..." -----------------------------------------------------------------   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-20-06, 07:14 PM (EST) 7. "I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Part V" LAST EDITED ON 10-30-06 AT 09:19 AM (EST) {Just a little bit disturbed here. You usually don't see buildings constructed on an arc, and there's something unnatural about this one. Did they somehow manage to layer a little 3-D into that shot? It almost felt like the wings were reaching for me.} {You're trying to get us to ask about your new high-def again, aren't you?} {What can I say? Mary-Jane's a great hostess.} {Look at the fountain! Geez, did the art designers have one original thought all season? And this is a quote: 'Topiary. Weird topiary'.} {A little talk about the billionaire... no, Jeff doesn't know how he died either. And with that passes the last best hope of the old Republic.} {'Make sure you don't deserve the same'. Jeff has not embraced the weirdness, but I think he's just officially resigned himself to it.} {Inside -- okay, I guess this can pass for taste in a dim light.} {So that's where that painting vanished to!} {Jeff takes Connie upstairs: she's got a nice, big bedroom. Quality hotel level, with a very large bathtub and a ton of cosmetics waiting for her use. She explores a little, shrugs, says "I was expecting something more opulent, but it is just servant's quarters. Given no other choice, I guess I can live with it," and heads right for the tub. We get a confessional from there, with Connie mostly covered in bubbles plus the occasional bit of blur. "It's nice just to get away from the game for a night, but I can't forget about the next vote. Four-four is not a situation I ever wanted to be in. I still want to believe Gary is a possibility, but I have to start looking at other options.' Which may or may not include Alex -- wait. 'May not'. Sorry. Lost my head for a second there.} {Connie spending some time-lapse potential hours at the makeup station until she's restored herself to Day One status (minus a few extra pounds -- her implants aren't pulling a Heidi yet, but just wait), then getting into silk pajamas and settling down to sleep. You know, most people would have done that full makeover in the morning, but I guess she just couldn't make herself wait... One last confessional in voiceover: "All it takes is one person changing their mind for one moment. I'm not giving up on that." She's not forgetting about the game, but she may be forgetting about the players. Alex is not switching. Mary-Jane won't get burnt twice. Gardener knows he's too vulnerable. Gary -- well, maybe he is her best hope, but the man's not stupid. He knows what happens to swing votes once they aren't needed any more. Angela nearly taught a clinic on that one.} {Switch to Alex -- well, apparently this was originally supposed to be a 'Bring the whole tribe along' Reward. That bed would certainly sleep all of them. And Tony, if you're reading this, not even in your wildest dreams.} {Just a little bit tasteless in here, even in complete darkness.} {Your opinion. It's themed, but it's not horrible.} {Panning shot of the bathroom -- the tub could be a Reward all by itself.} {Alex in confessional, and if you're not seeing this live, the good news for the Legion is that she's finally nude again! The bad news: she might as well be wrapped up in the tarps. There's so many bubbles, you can't see anything that she doesn't want you to see -- and that category includes 'everything'.} {Nice trailoff there. Nice, sadistic trailoff. Alex may have another plan, but EPMB isn't telling us what it is. Which means it's either going to work or spectacularly backfire. Pick one.} {Looking in the mirror -- strange moment there, something about the eyes... Not doing anything with the cosmetics: just a quick look at them followed by walking away.} {And apparently no sponsor will be made happy this season, as Alex decides to postpone in favor of a bigger order later...} {She wouldn't see the stuff until at least tomorrow morning anyway. If the rollover includes the intervening months, it'll be time to do some major shopping.} {It would have saved her a trip to the mall.} {They don't do that much in clothing.} {Oh, she's looking for the lights! No, Alex, billionaires generally don't install The Clapper.} {Is anyone else getting that creepy feeling again? Why is the camera following her here? There can't be another jaguar in the mansion, right? Right?} {Reading room -- art room -- back to the bedroom -- why is she going into the bathroom?} {Migawd. Okay, that's it. We have just officially left reality behind, because our ninth-level bard is trying to make her secret doors check. Taking twenty.} {...and finds one.} {Creepy feeling? Check. Taking one hundred.} {Alex getting the torch going, and down we go -- the music's gone again...} {Too quiet... what's at the bottom here?} {Don't ever say those words again.} {Someone get PETA on the line, now! Look at those cages! That was cruel and unusual punishment! They couldn't even move in there! See the cattle prods? Whip them up into a frenzy before letting them go...} {Or they were restrained because they were wild and dangerous.} {This is beyond spooky. You had to believe the animals were flown or shipped in, but I thought they'd just be dropped into the jungle. He had a private zoo. Maybe he was even breeding his own future recreational activities.} {...are those wrist cuffs?} {Oh ####. They are.} {...but not for humans. At least, not occupied by one when the whole thing went wrong.} {This is already wrong enough. They starved to death down there, every last one of them. Nothing deserves that. Except maybe Burnett.} {Crew members arriving on the scene -- here's Jeff in his pajamas, they're exploring in small teams now -- Cameron just found a huge walk-in freezer. It lost power a long time ago, but you can see where the food supplies used to be.} {Someone else just located the main exit -- crank it up, and it comes out near the helicopter pad.} {Jeff doing a cage count. Twenty-eight. Twenty-four of them were occupied. And 'breeding' is a good shot, because those skeletons are very, very small. Shot of what must have been a kitten for the big cats -- commercials.} {That was a jaguar skeleton in miniature. Bets Alex ran into the pissed-off mother?} {How the hell does Alex's mind work? She didn't think 'exceptionally thick pipes', she thought 'hidden chamber'! Maybe one person in a thousand even notices that something's off in the dimensions -- one in ten thousand, one in a million -- and then she goes right for the strangest possibility and hits it!} {I said it already: think of four possible answers to a problem, watch Alex use a fifth without ever considering the other four... We just saw it in action again.} {And we're back with Amanu as Day Twenty-Six dawns, literally: the sun is just starting to come up. Everyone's sitting around the table, having fruit for breakfast and wondering how the Reward's going. Tony saying it would have been nice to get a comfortable sleep in. Mary-Jane giving him tired looks. Yes, it would have been nice. It would also be nice if Tony knew whether he was left-handed or right-handed. No wonder he went switch hitter. It lets him avoid figuring it out once and for all.} {Robin wondering about smuggling possibilities. Gardener decides there's not much chance of getting another gold eagle, because neither of them would break the rules by stealing something from the mansion -- and go to Connie, caught trying to sneak something into her bag. Not mansion items, though: cosmetics. They're clearly letting her proceed, since the camera guy isn't rushing into the shot to stop her.} {Alex exploring, bringing her sketchbook along. (What, you thought the previous night would affect her? Slow learner, ain'tcha?) Through the hallways, the rooms -- here's one of the museum zones Jeff mentioned, looks like ancient spears of all sorts, and notice where there's one empty spot with a suspiciously familiar outline? Three guesses where the Immunity Spear came from. Alex looks like she's figured it out, but she just shrugs and heads into the library.} {Funny that it's not back in place yet...} {Connie on the grounds -- comes across Alex sketching an outside view of the mansion and walks right past her without a word -- switch to the interior, and they've both been summoned to a full breakfast in one of the kitchens: eggs, bacon, toast, orange juice, cereal -- the works. The eating is being conducted with a degree of dignity.} {The conversation isn't.} ----------------------------------------------------------------- I don't think Connie's happy about having to eat in the kitchen, but the main dining room was blocked off by one of the red ropes: I caught a glimpse of camera equipment when a challenge staff member came out. Personally, I'm just glad to be eating something which isn't fruit or fish: the location doesn't matter, even if 'indoors' still feels a little weird. Currently, most of my (chewing) focus is going into the toast and biscuits, while Connie's concentrating on the bacon. We haven't said a word to each other since leaving the boat last night. I'm almost sure no one's told her about the cave discovery. I know I haven't. Azure looks over the food, dips her beak into some water, then tilts her head up and announces "Good Spread!" That gets Connie's attention. "Obviously she didn't spend a lot of time eating at the main table if she considers this to be a feast." Switching to me, "Still better than the begging for scraps you were just barely allowed to do." It's not a sympathetic statement. "Any children?" Connie's eyes narrow again. They seem exceptionally bright this morning, but most of that is from the makeup she's layered around them. It was her first chance at trophy-polishing since she arrived on the island, and it looks like she spend most of the night with a buffing cloth and a sandblaster configured for detail work. "I assume you're asking if I have any." I nod: I'm not sure how else she could have interpreted the question. "No. You can tell I'm married --" the ring is large, expensive, and well-designed, even if the rubies are just a little bit flamboyant "-- but no children. Why?" "Just curious." I spread raspberry jelly across a split biscuit. "I didn't think you'd be a mother -- it would take time away from too many other things." Those training sessions in elementary dozens runs must take hours. She shrugs. "I'm very active in my community, yes. I try to spread standards into places where they can do some good -- find a degree of conformity that the group can benefit from. But children just -- never happened." Sharply, "Not that you would know anything about what parenting requires." All I can do with that one is nod. "You're right -- I don't." A sip of orange juice. "What are you doing here, Connie?" If her eyes get any narrower, she's going to look like Gardener's sister. His older, genetically-tossed, plastic-coated sister. "What do you mean?" You can almost hear the air molecules falling into identical halves. "You're not the type who normally goes out for the show." And now to see what she does with that. Answer: she thinks it over for several long breaths, a very tiny amount of hostility fading from her face as she visibly considers what she's going to say, and then -- "I'm aware of that." She takes a long swallow of black coffee, sets the mug down into a shaft of dusty sunlight and continues. "I did apply, though. Haraiki talked about it the first night -- we all applied. No one picked out of an audition line for a bit part in one of those brain-killing slasher films for our group. Yours?" I nod: from what was said, all of us went through the process too. "I've been watching the show for years. I was always fascinated by the social dynamics of it -- the way people sorted themselves out, and what they would stoop to in order to win. Richard -- well, after Richard, I was partially watching to wait for revenge, preferably in the form of a winner I could live with. A walking abomination with far too much pride in that status and no respect for anything, including his own government... what a charming way to start a series. Tina was a bit of an improvement, but then Ethan came..." Who's Jewish. No question about what would be intolerable there. "But I didn't seriously think about trying out for the show until after -- oh, what was her name? Joanna? Jolanda?" This would feel like a trap, but we both know the target has already been caught. "Amazon? Joanna." She nods. "I thought you would know. I despised her. Everything the rest of world wants to believe about people of strong faith in one hysterical package. Not wanting to win Immunity because she couldn't stand the thought of having an idol in her camp. An absolutely putrid excuse for a human being. After that, I started to realize how few true Christians there really were on television. Richard's -- group -- getting a representative every season, all the little faiths and distorted cults, the warped sickness of Ibrehem's people -- but selections from the true believers? Virtually no one. That was when I started to think about applying. Show people that a full Christian could win the game as one, without trying to throw her own tribe into the ground just because she had an extremely distorted idea of what 'worship a false idol' meant. No one worshiped the spear. We just wanted it. Some people... the least little thing and they believe the foundations of the church will crumble..." A long, thoughtful pause. "It took a while before I really started to take the thought seriously. So many thousands of people trying every year -- why would they take me? But then I decided that if it was meant to be, it would happen -- and here I am." Watching Azure for a moment, who's flitting from hanging brass pot to dangling steel colander, trying to sit inside the swinging perches with little success. "Why are you here -- other than to upset me?" It does make me wonder what the casting people were thinking when they put our original sixteen together. Maybe they were desperately hoping Connie and I would wind up on the same tribe -- but then they turned the selection into a random draw... But that's just part of what I'm thinking about: most of the rest is considering what Connie believes a 'full Christian' to be. 'Polite' just can't be on the list. "I've been watching since the first episode, too. The open auditions were in Manhattan on the same day I was in the city. I saw the ad in the newspaper, walked over, and got through. Same group Robin came out of, from what she told me." "Yes -- the great cattle call." A significant look at my torso. "In which they actually managed to catch a cow." There's no point in responding to that, but Connie still waits a few seconds to see if I'm going to say anything before continuing. "Gary told me you believed you'd be the first boot, and that you knew the cross was very likely illegal when you brought it in. You enjoy breaking rules, don't you? Flaunting authority wherever it appears..." Gary and I are going to have a very long talk when I get back. I shrug. "And you like to invoke it." Which brings a thin smile: no lips, all teeth. "Especially when it's the ultimate authority." Another swallow of coffee. I wonder if it tastes as good as it smells. "Did you think I was your mother, asking me if I had any children?" And suddenly my main concern is keeping this breakfast down. "That would have been an interesting twist, wouldn't it? Do Big Brother one better: stick mother and daughter in the game together, wait to see if they'll figure it out, announce it at the Reunion if they hadn't, or just wait for the family reward and say 'Your special visitor is -- standing right next to you!' But no, I didn't think that. We don't look anything alike, for starters." Although who knows what Connie looked like before the scalpel-and-blood makeover began. She nods to that. "We have nothing in common." Which covers so many levels. "I'm answering your questions -- now you answer one of mine. Why don't you have a faith?" Where did that come from? "I understand the separation of church and state present at your level, especially for those in state-run orphanages. But most people seek out some kind of answer on their own. It was probably too much to hope that someone like you could find their way to salvation without an escort, but it's unnatural to go looking for nothing." I'm guessing secret passages don't count. "What's the most hateful answer you can come up with?" She actually blinks at that. "Take a few minutes, pick one, and then apply it. Trust me: I won't mind. I don't care about much of anything that you believe about me, any more than you care about what I might believe regarding you." A fast, hard breath that emerges much more slowly than it went in, a touch of hiss from tightly-pressed teeth. "And what do you believe about me?" "It's been changing since the moment we met," I admit. "There was a while when I thought you hated me because you're one of those people who can't stand accepting help from anyone. Then I added in the religion factor, and that helped a little. Plus I was on the wrong tribe, and hating me there was just a good way to get motivated for the challenges -- the same way getting rid of me would have saved you one. And then there's the fact that you were probably flat-chested for most of your life and decided to loathe anyone who wasn't." Which scores a direct hit in a previously-untouched spot: her right hand just went tight around the knife handle... "But mostly, Connie? I think you're one of those people who just needs something to hate. You're in a religion because it gives you the chance to look down on anyone who isn't part of it. You don't have faith: you have an excuse. And as soon as I came up to you in the water and told you what to do for the duration of one sentence, you had your target for the rest of the game. You hate me. Nothing's going to change that. You're always going to hate me, because that's what you've decided to do. I can't change your mind and I don't care enough to make an attempt." Because I've been around people like that all my life, and I know there's no point in ever trying... "You're right: I'm here to upset you. The casting people probably took one look at our respective psych profiles and said 'They'll come within inches of killing each other. Get them in the season!'" Which sounds good, even if it's wrong. If it hadn't been me, Connie would have decided to hate someone else. "And you're here to torment me -- and we're both doing our jobs." Count of one, two, three... "I'm just the only one succeeding at mine." A long silence, Connie's knuckles flushed white, a blur of wings and sudden weight as Azure returns to my shoulder, trying to find some extra room in the staring contest for a pair of bullseyes... ...and I don't even know if she's aware of the words she's speaking: "You soulless little bitch..." ...Connie blinks first, immediately pretends it didn't happen as she goes for her coffee again. I watch it carefully. She's probably not about to throw it in my face: it isn't hot enough any more. "My portrait. Now." Which is her way of getting control back. The sketchbook is sitting on my left: I slowly reach for it. Not conceding that control, just getting it over with. "Tear anything, throw coffee on it, damage it in any way, and you're out of the game." "Let's pretend I'm aware of that, shall we?" She watches as I sort through the pages, looking for the essence of herself. "It's actually somewhat interesting, watching you think. I've never seen someone build a house of cards without nothing on the bottom before..." Keeping her gaze on the sketchbook as I rotate it to face her, examining the image, the silence stretching out... "Well. I suppose Angela was right about one thing. That does look something like me." She finishes off the coffee, sets the empty mug down next to her plate. "I stand by what I said at Council, Alex. If you want Bible instruction, I'm willing to consider giving it to you. Perhaps I could even show you how to put on makeup. Someone should, even given how little there is to work with." Stands up, starts for the door. "It's a little late to start redeeming your edit," I tell her. She glances back, and now the smile is full. "What makes you think they're ever going to show this?" "Contrast." Connie pauses, waits. "Earlier, you said you felt pity for the damnation of souls. And just then, you called me soulless." It lasts just long enough to see: confusion, a touch of worry, panic -- and then back to the smile. "That's what you think I said? Maybe you'd better call for Medical: I think you need to be checked for fever. Maybe you should be removed from the game after all. Delusions are never good things -- but then, you should have been taken out for 'psych' reasons the instant you first believed you could win..." And out. I glance at one of the camera operators, who gives the empty doorway a significant look, then nods. No, she said it, he recorded it, reality is operating normally. And right now, it feels like there's a very good chance that footage going to be used. Soulless. If Connie has one, I'm not sure it's something worth possessing. But there was something about the way she said it that went beyond ordinary hate... We were cast to be set against each other, even if it was only for one boot. If not me, Mary-Jane. If not Mary-Jane, Robin, who's been dancing on the edge of it since she got here. And if not her, then maybe anyone at all would have done the job. Connie defines herself by others, picks people to loathe and then tries to be everything they're not -- or goes the other way, hating everyone who isn't exactly like her... I haven't thought about Cyndi for a long time. I'm thinking about her now. Thinking about how well she and Connie would get along, at least until they realized that only one of them could dominate the group. Identical twins from the skull interior in -- but only one queen in a hive. There's probably only an hour or two left to explore the mansion. I should get back to it. Use every moment I have to find images in the present instead of revisiting a fixed past. I'll be back soon enough, but I have to use the time I've got now. Connie can wait. And Connie will wait -- -- exactly as long as she has to in order to get me out of the game. ----------------------------------------------------------------- {And what a very interesting conversation that was.} {Robin & Alex both in through open auditions in the same city. I wonder if they ever saw each other?} {Let's not start a pre-show alliance thread, okay? -- too late...} {Soulless count is now at two, and we still don't know what it means...} {Just that it's the second time she's applied it to Alex, and the first when Alex was in hearing range. And she immediately went into denial over it. Anyone else get the feeling that Connie almost completely lost it in the original confessional and didn't know it had slipped out?} {At this point, I think we have to turn our considerable group Internet research skills into a full-scale investigation. Maybe we don't have her specific religious branch yet, but I think we can find out just how active she is in her community. 'A degree of conformity.' I'm still shivering.} {I've been looking, okay? Just because I'm a Christian doesn't mean I have the power to identify specific sub-groups on sight.} {From an editing standpoint, Burnett seems to be ramping up the rivalry another notch. Sure, fine, we're establishing more of Connie's character and no matter what some of you might say, I'm pretty sure we've got our villain here. But we know how they feel about each other. I think Alex actually made a good point there: Connie might just be one of those people who always needs someone to hate, and not in that 'I'm playing against this team, so they're my official bitter rival for the week' way. The problem is that as far as their relationship goes, this is nothing we didn't really already know or strongly suspect. We're just getting a reminder, and it's an oddly placed one.} {Not if Connie talks Haraiki into making Alex the target for the tie. She can sure get Tony behind it, and after that, the arguments start up. Since they can't afford to split their vote...} {Possible. Alex has been getting so much focus time lately, her story arc almost has to be over.} {Um... no. Alex has been getting focus time because in the last couple of episodes, Alex has been doing more than pretty much any contestant ever: do you really think Burnett's supposed to ignore it? We're used to thinking of story arcs in terms of 'Hello, contestant. Here's why they're going out. Goodbye, contestant.' Is there any chance that this time, they're actually telling a story?} {Look, if you want to be a Legion member, that's fine, but you have to accept that Alex can't win. She's not a challenge threat, but at the same time, there's no way she can slide under the radar. The other players are very much aware she's there: being attacked by a jaguar will do that for you. I count three potential jury votes against her right now: Angela because of what she vowed and I happen to believe her, Tony because he'll follow Angela, and Connie -- you have to ask? Phillip will go with the strongest player, so maybe he'd vote Alex depending on who she was sitting next to and how he really sees 'strong'. Robin's a world-class 'Who knows?' The other Turare might vote for her -- might. Gardener's a wild card. Mary-Jane and Gary, probably. Sure, a lot depends on who she's sitting next to, but right now, someone has to haul her along by seeing her as the best possible Final Two partner. And who's going to do that? Has she offended enough people to pull that off? Maybe with a Haraiki-full jury -- which I don't think she can win with. And if the last Immunity challenge is endurance, she's been beat up to Hell and back this season. How much strength does she really have left?} {Uh-huh. How much oxygen did she really have left a few episodes back?} {That is not a reassuring comparison.} {Well, at least we can finally all agree with Connie about something. Who didn't hate Joanna?} ----------------------------------------------------------------- After ----------------------------------------------------------------- I'd spent some time wondering about just why Donald had called me, and I'd come to one very solid conclusion: Burnett had told him to. Or asked in that very subtle 'But I'm really telling you' way that somehow failed to register as such. One show was hot: why not try to bring some of that over to the other? Even several months from now, when the series currently filming finally reached the air, there might be enough of a 'special guest star!' boost left to bring the ratings up by two or three people... He'd probably called Trina too, and Robin, maybe even Connie -- whoever could reach the Tower easily. I was just in the vicinity. But I hadn't had a dress to wear, his assistant had taken the message and said she'd pass it on. End of invitation. The latest delivery had shown it wasn't the end of the issue. This one had been private courier: I'd asked to see two forms of ID through the viewing port before opening the door. The box had been shaken until nothing exploded -- it was probably very easy to fake a return address -- and then -- -- screw you, Burnett. Because that had to have been how it was done. I know what my measurements are. My corsetiere and swimsuit sewer have the figures somewhere. And the show knew, because they'd said there might be challenges that required special clothing, and anything they provided had to fit... I hadn't said anything to anyone, they presumably didn't know who my custom people were, and Burnett had sold me out in less than a heartbeat. Just provided the full numbers to Donald, who passed them on to a designer, and... ...a deep, flowing green, the exact shade of the merge color, only with highlights springing to life in the dull light of the apartment. Tiny touches of sparkles here and there: not so much that they dominated the dress, but enough to show that there were areas the designer wanted attention called to. Very light to the touch, but with built-in reinforcements in specific zones that hinted someone had either gotten a good look at the swimsuit's configuration after all or had taken the unprecedented step of using thought in the middle of constructing fashion: first time for everything. Less than a day between the time I'd called back and the arrival of the dress. Time is money, so money equals time: enough of the second and a lot less of the first is required. I took a long look at it, made sure the door was locked, lowered the curtains on the window -- -- it looks like the idea had been to create a dress where what wasn't present was meant to balance what was. Full-length on the left side with a swirling cut to the hem, but closer in on on the right, which had a slit running up to mid-thigh: my bare leg peeked out on every step. That area was loose, but the waist was tight with the form molding continuing as the fabric worked its way up. Breasts prominently displayed -- no cleavage, but the left shoulder had been left bare and dipped perilously close to the shielded area. Only half a sleeve on the right arm: bicep covered to just past the elbow. An equal half-sleeve for the left, but this one concealed my arm from wrist to elbow and of course there were only a few people on the planet who knew just how far the scars went, a loop of fabric to connect that partial sleeve to the one covered shoulder... I spun around. The skirt flounced -- 'You're very pretty in that dress.' -- and stopped, sitting down hard on the bed, waiting until the echoes died away. Softly, with no one to hear, the words shouldn't come out unless there wasn't an audience there, "Stop making me remember..." No answer. Not even my imaginary Jeff wanted to get a comment in for that one: as with so many things, we'd been over it already and he'd never have an answer. The only person waiting for an answer now was Donald, who'd enclosed a note saying the limo was still available to pick me up, and all I had to do was call back again and tell him I'd gotten the dress -- I'd signed for the thing: he knew I had it -- and was ready to go. I was just lucky he hadn't taken matters into his own hands and sent a limo right behind the delivery truck. Driver equiped with tranquilizer darts. This looks like a perfect time for an emergency cold. I tried faking a cough. It had been a while since I'd tried to run that con, and it never worked on anyone who wasn't a school nurse, but maybe the telephone would help with the sound... Not going. Not going. Not going! Maybe the past and the future still had some connecting to do, but not that past with this future! I -- -- was going to sit here, very still, breathing slowly, until I was capable of making the phone call without demanding to scream at the person who'd gotten me into this mess. On top of everything else, now I have to pay to send it back. And the post office was already closed. Celebrity. Stupid, stinking celebrity! Why did the dress have to be beautiful? ---------------------------------------------------------------- During ---------------------------------------------------------------- The waves are choppy today, and the sky is overcast: we probably have another storm coming in. After a long morning (and maybe part of an afternoon) at the mansion, we're on our way back to camp. I have a lot of new pictures in the sketchbook and about eight pounds of assorted soaps, shampoos, toothbrushes, toothpaste, and cosmetics in my bag: Azure's very good at being a distraction. This'll help save us from having to rely on Mary-Jane's dwindling toiletry supplies, and as for the cosmestics -- well, Mary-Jane can probably use them. Or Robin can. Some of the colors don't look like they'd be appropriate for them, but if I can't use part of the Reward, someone else should get the chance to. The stuff was paid for, therefore, it has to be utilized. Hopefully. It would be a waste of several perfectly good search commands otherwise. As a final part of our Reward, the boat is taking the long way around the island, heading past the side we haven't seen before -- and, as it turns out, didn't really want to see. One of the camera operators tells us that this side is dominated by Asian plants with occasional influences from India. What he doesn't say is that the domination status is currently up for debate. There's incredible colors visible from shore, scents that waft out through the salt, the usual amazing hybrid of biological and human design -- -- but this time, the seams are showing. Here, one tree starting to crowd out another. There, touches of leaf rot spreading between species. Near the shore, discolored roots sticking through the soil, pushed up and out by tendrils from another plant growing beneath them. A subtle smell of decay breaking through the perfume. Branches sagging, fruit that looks like wrinkled bags of pus, autumn colors come far too early... I don't know how much of this Connie is seeing: I'm sure my eyes are better than hers, and during the brief moments when I risk glances at her, she seems to be enjoying the view. But this part of the island is starting to fall apart. The balance is holding -- on our side. That's why we were placed there. But no one knows how long it'll last, and I'm seeing signs that it won't be permanent. I don't know if anyone can step in and restore this section of the island, or hold the balance on the rest. Another billionaire probably won't be coming along any time soon. Will it take a year before the island is beyond salvation? A week? It might be too late already. A small scale world war breaking out in the soil, plants from everywhere trying to see which one is genetically superior, and for the losers -- survival at this level is always a battle to the death... Yanini doesn't have much time left. It could be years before our side starts to show the rot: this is the first indication I've seen for any of it, and maybe the show never scouted this far. They might have found the setting they wanted, said 'This is safe enough,' and ran with it. But maybe they did and chose not to tell us. Our area could win the battle, hold forever -- or in a decade, weeds, fungus, and rot-spotted vines draped over dead trees. Artificial reality. Create a vision, see how long you can keep it together for -- but without constant effort... I'm shivering. I don't know why. It's not that cold today. Back around to our side, to the limits of the explored area, Turare's beach -- and we keep going. The pilot calls back to us before the question can be asked. "We're running a little late!" he tells us. "You're going to be dropped off at Challenge Beach!" Oh, great: right into the challenge without even so much as a lousy poem to provide a clue. At least I've eaten recently, and we already know what we're playing for -- -- and up to the beach we come, with the others watching us from the mat as we disembark, Robin casting especially curious glances at our extra-full bags. (Connie very clearly got something too, but I haven't exactly asked her what she grabbed.) Jeff nods to us as we walk up the sand, passing between two small deer blinds with camouflage fabric draped over the front openings. It looks like we're going to have some privacy for this one -- there's eight blinds, and they're just big enough for one person to be in at a time. That's already narrowed the challenge possibilities down by A Lot: I'm thinking storytime. "Alex and Connie, returning from Exile Island." Phillip's spine straightens out. "Kidding, people -- there wasn't anything close enough to consider doing it this season." Which is sort of a hint in and of itself, but it won't apply to us. "Take your places on the mat, guys." We do. "So how was it?" Connie answers first. "Very relaxing. It's always good to get away from the game for a while -- as long as you can remember that the game is still going on while you're away." Which is something I thought about for a good part of the night: after the cave exploration wrapped up (and I finally found the light switch embedded in the headboard), I spent a long time gazing at the canopy and wondering whether there were now six votes in place to get rid of me at the next Council. While the cat's away, the mice tend to form alliances. "Alex --" and of course Jeff's coming to me after that "-- your night wasn't quite as calm." Azure gives him what, coming from a human, would be a significant look. Connie stares down the line at me -- yes, no one ever told her -- and Gardener just groans. "No, don't tell me: let me guess. She found the world's last remaining three-hundred-pound attack termite." I shake my head. "Tell you back at camp." There's a moment where Jeff almost looks annoyed -- he may have wanted this to come out now -- but he's willing to put off the ringmastering duties until we hit Tribal Council. Other issues have to be resolved first, starting with -- "Tony, hand it over." Tony reluctantly steps off the mat, drags his feet all the way to Jeff, and gives him the necklace like a kindergardener being forced to surrender his lunch money to the school bully. Jeff decides to notice. "Breaking up is hard to do -- okay." He hangs the necklace on its pole. "Immunity -- back up for grabs. Here's how today's challenge is going to work. I'm going to tell you a story. Once I'm done, you'll have to race into those deer blinds, where you'll find a question relating to the story and two boxes, each with an answer on the lid. Once you decide on your answer, open the box and remove the puzzle piece in your assigned color." Into off-the-air mode as he spots Tony's expression, "Which we'll be giving out shortly." Tony looks relieved: he didn't miss anything. "Once you have eight pieces, race to your station --" eight color-coded workbenches "-- and assemble the puzzle. Obviously if all the pieces don't go together, you got a wrong answer somewhere and you'll have to go back and switch." Connie's already looking unhappy. "The completed puzzle will reveal a substitution cipher code. Decipher it -- and the first person with the correct phrase wins Immunity. You're guaranteed three more days on the island, along with a one-in-seven chance at a million dollars." His voice goes a little deeper. "And for one of you, after tomorrow night, there will be no chance at all. Does everyone understand the challenge?" Tony doesn't. "Substitution cipher?" There are times when you could really believe the season is getting to Jeff. "Swapping letters for numbers." Tony still looks confused. "The letter 'k' equals 'strikeout', only it's one letter for another number, not a whole word." And now he gets it. "Anyone else?" Robin, with a wicked gleam in her eyes. "Yeah. Hey, Alex -- what's in the bag?" This wasn't carefully rehearsed, but I had it ready to go just in case it came up in the mansion. "Just my clothes and sketchbook." Neutrally, "Taking things from the Reward would be wrong." Robin nearly chokes on her swallowed laughter, and Mary-Jane doesn't take the chance: merry giggles ring out across the beach. Jeff really wants to say something here, but his semi-official position on smuggling is the same as the show holds: what smuggling? "What Alex said. Any other questions about the challenge?" Gardener takes it. "Only one person in a blind at a time, right?" Jeff nods. "Push the curtain back when you enter. If it's occupied, you either wait outside or hit another station." Which means we'll have to keep track of where we've been, and if anyone loses time by heading into one twice... "Anyone else?" No, that's it. "Alex, it's your option as to whether you want to give us Azure for this one." I don't have to think about it for very long. "Take her -- I can move faster without the weight." I don't have the worst chance to win this challenge. I'm a good listener, so I should be able to keep track of the story's details. Putting the puzzle together should be quick enough. The cipher -- well, maybe: it's been a long time since I've tried anything like that, but at least I know how the solving process is supposed to work. Running speed -- still in the overall middle of the pack. Keeping track of the stations shouldn't be a problem, but other people will be going in and out -- if someone's taking forever in the last blind I need to visit... I think about that all the way to the perch, and I can't come up with a way around it. The only way to get someone out of a blind early is to do a really good imitation of Jeff declaring that someone else has already won, and I can't do voices. Plus I'm pretty sure the challenge staff would take major objection to that one. Unless something comes up in mid-course, I'm going to wind up running this one as written. (Or read off to us.) Back to the mat. Jeff waits until I'm in position, then clears his throat. "This is a story from the old times, before there were calenders, when only the seasons divided time and not even death could divide lives..." Connie looks slightly offended. Phillip's concentrating hard. "Back in those days, there was Man and Woman, and each one contributed to survival. Man went out into the jungle and found the animals that could feed them, Woman followed after and watched those animals until she figured out how each one could be beaten, and then they both went after their prey. Man to find, Woman to think, and both to kill." There's an oddly musical rhythm to his speech, up on one word, down on the next. A fable -- but a fable from where? He didn't identify a culture, give out any point of origin... Gardener looks a little confused here: he may know more mythology than any of us, all from second-hand credits and if this isn't ringing a bell with him, it's got to be really obscure. "One day, though, Man went out all by himself, as he was wont to do, and Man got to thinking. Why did Woman have to do all the watching work? Man did the tracking, Man found where the animals were. Wasn't that the hard part? Shouldn't Man get to do the easy part, too? How hard could it be to hang around the animals for a few days? After finding them in the first place, the next part wouldn't be any job at all. Man knew how to move quietly, Man knew how to follow... So Man went deeper into the jungle than he ever had before, and he found himself a new animal: Lion. Man had never seen it, thought it was handsome enough with that brilliant mane of hair, figured it would make a good supper. So he didn't go back to fetch Woman, stayed in the jungle, watching Lion from the trees." Robin's openly fascinated by this, possibly too much so: she may have forgotten she's supposed to be memorizing it. "Man stays there for a good long while. But then Lion sniffs the wind, because Lion knows to keep a nose out for trouble. Lion smells Man in the trees, because Man was always a little smellier than Woman. And Lion says 'Are you trying to steal my secrets, Man?' Man doesn't know how Woman works, doesn't know that you never talk to the animals because they don't want to be caught and they'll do anything to get Man and Woman as prey. Man's feeling cocky, and Man says 'Do you have any secrets worth stealing?' Because Man already stole the secret of watching from Woman, or that's what he thinks, and he's eager for more." Gary looks like he's spotted the next twist in the tale early, and Jeff doesn't make him wait for it. "Lion says 'Of course I've got secrets, clever Man. No one else could have found me, no one else could have followed me -- maybe you deserve one of them. I'll tell you how to get claws like mine if you'll pass one simple test.' Man's intrigued, knows he can hunt much better with those claws, so he comes out of the trees and approaches Lion. 'What do I have to do?' he asks, because Man knows he can do anything now. And Lion says 'If you're brave enough to stick your head in my mouth, I'll whisper the secret to you.' Now Man's not a complete fool, because Man can see those teeth, and he thinks having his head in Lion's mouth isn't the best thing for it: he starts back for the trees. But Lion's always been cagey, and he tells Man about the time Woman came out here without him, looking for Lion. Woman thought she could get along without Man, Woman was trying to steal Man's tricks. But only Man's clever enough to have found him, so Man's the one who deserves the secret -- not Woman, who wouldn't know what to do with it anyway..." Mary-Jane is completely disgusted, very likely with Man. Jeff hands her what she's probably waiting for. "Well, Man always did like flattery, so after a while, Lion talked him out, and Man came over to put his head in Lion's mouth. And Lion said 'Are you listening?', and Man told him yes, and Lion said 'This is the secret to getting claws,' and stuck one in Man's back. Man screamed, but Lion wouldn't let go, and tried to push Man into his mouth with his claws --" I'm not sure how much of this Tony is really tracking. There hasn't been a single statistic yet. If it was percentages of hunts completed and spear landing zones in the target area, he'd be all over this. "-- and then Lion fell over dead." We all wait for it. "Woman comes out of the trees, still shaking a little after throwing that spear. Man climbs out of Lion's mouth, bleeding from the back, sees Woman, and wants to know how she found him. Woman says that when so much time passed without him returning, she had to come looking. Man screams at Woman, says Woman tried to steal his secrets of finding and tracking. Woman tries to tell him that it was just because she was worried about him, wanted to save him -- but Man, still bleeding and not caring any more, walks away. And Woman follows him, hoping he'll stop being a fool and having no trouble finding him, because Man always leaves a trail no matter how careful he is, and nothing's easier to follow than blood..." Jeff takes a deep breath. "And ever since then, Man's been looking for a way to steal Woman's secrets because he doesn't want to need her, Woman looks to steal Man's secrets so she can save his fool ass when it gets in trouble again -- and that way, they stay together, hunting through the seasons and ages, when what they're really after is each other..." Softly, "End of story. We'll draw for colors and get started." Because by doing the draw after the story, it's that much more time to confuse the details. "Jeff?" Gardener, still looking just a little bit out of his element. "Where's that story from? I've gone through a lot of folklore classes by proxy, and I've never heard that one." Jeff tilts his head very slightly to the right, giving his hat a rakish set. "No comment. Okay, people -- draw." We do: I wind up with, of all things, purple. "For Immunity and guaranteed protection from the bounce --" Tony winces "-- Survivors ready --" -- we need it on our side to make sure one person's secure, we need the idol, I need it because I could be the target, we need a way out of this tie and this time, I'm not the one with the key -- "-- go!" -----------------------------------------------------------------   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Belle Book 1925 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Herbal Healing Drugs Endorser" 02-22-10, 09:59 PM (EST) 28. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Part V" Heh. Alex seems to be better at getting to Connie than Connie is at getting to Alex. I have to agree with Alex -- I think Connie's just one of those people who needs someone to hate. And most of them are pretty bad people.   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-23-06, 10:05 PM (EST) 8. "I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Conclusion" LAST EDITED ON 10-24-06 AT 08:43 PM (EST) {Back at camp in time for Robin to read the poem: "Listen up and listen well, give us answers from the story we tell. A necklace for the one whose ears are best, possible elimination for the rest." Seriously: are they even trying any more?} {You're assuming they ever tried in the first place.} {Problem here -- they know it's a story challenge, and so do we from the previews -- let's face it: this was not a subtle semi-poem -- but Turare and Haraiki want to coordinate strategy with their missing members, and they can't. At this stage, they pretty much have to play as groups and try to help each other, make sure the necklace lands on the right side -- unless we're missing something major. Gardener still looks about as frustrated as usual. And I quote, "Never a goddamn random game element around when you need one." I'm almost certain he's talking about Alex.} {Off to Challenge Beach, Jeff pulling off one of the rare fakeouts and gets Phillip hook, line, and sling spear. Sheesh. Don't do that, Jiffie. There was one horrible second where I was looking for Terry to get off the boat right behind them, and he'd be walking just a little bit funny because he was this episode's hiding place for the idol and they'd put the thing right back in its most-used home.} {So no one ever told Connie what happened? Well, obviously there was a higher priority in effect that night. The woman badly needed her beauty sleep.} {'I don't know nothing 'bout no cosmetics in no bag, nope nope nope.'} {Cute camera focus on Tony while Jeff was explaining the challenge. We may be in for some classic wrong answers here... and sure enough, he doesn't know what a cryptogram is. You can't like Tony's chances on anything that isn't straight physical capability: he doesn't have Angela any more to do the thinking for him, and most of the few operational brain cells he's got left are busy trying to figure out how nice an engagement ring he can get for a million dollars.} {Does anyone know what culture that story came from? Did Julie give it to Jeff as an instead-of bedtime present?} {Ask Trooper.} {It's not like they only draw from one tribal background.} {Sorry -- new to me, too.} {And they're off! Camera staying with Tony as he goes full-speed into the nearest blind, cutting in front of Robin and almost tripping her with his trailing foot. 'What trail did Woman follow to find Man the second time?' Blood or sweat. Sure enough, Tony's in a panic here, starting to show the second, and it may turn into the first if he stares any harder... He grabs for a box -- we don't see which one -- and heads out.} {Connie muttering to herself as she opens the right box on the claw question. "What I wouldn't give to be in a season set in Vermont..." So apparently Connie knows a lot of fables that center around maple syrup.} {She'd probably run through an Eden season, but good luck getting the management to let her in.} {Gardener having no problems with the answers, but he's not the fastest in moving from box to box. Same problem for Alex, but she'll make up speed once she hits the puzzle.} {Ciphers may not be her kind of puzzle, though. And the first stage one is too simple to slow most people down.} {And we have a historical echo! I quote Tony exactly: "I dunno..." Geez, man!} {Gary on his --} ---------------------------------------------------------------- "-- fifth piece!" Jeff announces, and in the blind to my left, Robin spares a moment for a groan. I'm tempted to join her: I'm on my fourth. It's not just movement speed (and the blinds aren't all that far apart for the larger scale, although the distance increases as you head for the edges), it's whether the answer space is available when you reach it. In that sense, Gary seems to be getting luckier than any of us -- especially Mary-Jane, who's "Just coming out of her third blind!" I run from my fourth, hold up just in time to let Phillip pass -- it's that or get trampled five feet, two inches into the sand -- and then head for the nearest one on the right: I've done Robin's current station and this one is -- occupied. Figures. Sprint further out -- no, I was in that one already, and from the sounds of the panicked breathing coming from it, Tony's in there now -- -- got out. I race inside just as Jeff announces that Gardener's got his fifth piece. I am going to be so far behind, I'm going to finish in Panama. Read the question aloud for the stationary camera. "How did Lion spot Man in the trees -- sight or smell." Nice try on the wording. "Smell." I grab the piece and race out: Mary-Jane's waiting at the door. No time to tell her what the answer is, maybe no point because she's definitely not tonight's target, move on -- -- at least I won't be in last. "Tony going back into his third blind!" I wonder how Jeff's keeping track of all this: it can't just be seasons and seasons of previous experience, can it? Maybe he's holding some sort of master challenge diagram and making check marks. I haven't had a chance to look. Tony can second-guess himself all he likes and it'll help us in that there's one person who won't have the necklace on their side, but for my part in this challenge, the only place that ever counted in this game was first. I could be tomorrow's target, there's only two immediate ways out of it, and... "Alex working on her sixth piece!" Which would be fine, except that Gary's on his eighth -- ----------------------------------------------------------- {-- piece and heading for the puzzle station. Not much trouble getting the edges lined up: this is your basic jigsaw. Alex may get an extra tenth of a second over the others, no more. Phillip second to his bench. Some very fast camera switches going on here. Alex comes up, Robin right behind her, then Gardener -- that's close enough that it was probably the actual order of arrival.} {Looks like everyone's got their puzzle together, even Tony, who fixed himself on those wrong answers after two tries. Gary dashing through the cipher: hey, looking at words and turning them into numbers is what the man does, so why should he have trouble throwing it into reverse? Tony's got the general idea, but he's never done this sort of thing before and he doesn't know how to look for letter patterns.} {Connie faltering -- she knows how she's supposed to work it, too, but she's got a double-S where I think a double-E should be. Mary-Jane moaning at her station -- she's not completely lost here, but she's having trouble. Too many short words: nothing like a leading 'Immunity' to start the phrase and give her a few letters to build off.} {Looks like Alex and Gardener are catching up a little, and Phillip's making major headway...} {Quick focus on Tony: he's starting to get words. Go to Alex: filling in the last letters as fast as she can. Move to Gary --} {-- who wins Immunity!} {Pretty close. The camera is reviewing the other boards: Gardener and Phillip were about three letters off when they called it. Alex, four. 'Win and claim the necklace -- in three more days, take pride.' So part of a Tree Mail poem quote to give them a lead, but a whole bunch of short words to throw them off. Wonder how long that actually took?} {Jeff gives Gary the necklace, gives him the mandatory 'safe from the vote' speech. Assorted small amounts of misery are now available for purchase from the rest of the field, plus you can just order off the website. Robin's 'I want to win something!' face is available in a special unlimited edition.} {Back to camp we go for the idol clue...} --------------------------------------------------------------- Gardener's been on my back since we left Challenge Beach. I don't think he understands just how heavy he is. And annoying. And irritating. Actually, he probably has a pretty good grip on 'irritating': he just doesn't care. "And maybe I don't want to wait for dinner and a story around the fire. I've already had more than my share of stories today, all right? You'll probably finish up, point to the lake, and tell us there's five answers scattered around the shore: first person back with all of them gets to find out what's in your bag..." "It's makeup, okay?" Mary-Jane makes an odd noise: it's halfway between a gasp and a squeal. Probably not the most negative sound in the world. "I pretty much raided the entire display they gave me, plus some more toiletries. I'll pass them out when we get into camp." Which isn't that far away: we're just coming up the trail from our beach now. "I'm guessing Connie did the same thing." Which she surprisingly chooses to respond to from her position further up the line: she's second in the pack today, right behind a still-beaming Gary, who's lost in The Zen Of The Necklace. "I did. This should give us enough soap and shampoo to get through the remaining days." I can just about hear Phillip smile. "You looked pretty good coming up the beach, Connie. Guess it must have been nice to get back to that lifestyle for a night." Connie shrugs. "I'm hardly that well-off, Phillip. None of us will probably ever remotely approach that level of wealth -- it's a pity the man didn't know how to do more with it." "I think he did enough," Gary decides. "This island was probably a multi-million dollar project to start with." And now Connie's frustrated. "Something real." Book burning, anyone? Robin catches up to me. "Makeup? Can I raid you? I think I can use a few of your shades." Maybe she can, at least for skin tone -- we're not that far off, although she was a little paler on Day Two, before the tans really started setting in. "Sure." It's not as if I can do anything with the stuff. And from up ahead, Gary, the first into the clearing. "We've got the idol clue." Everyone quickly clusters up to the side of the shelter: Gary gets the double-dubious honors of both spotting and reading it for the camera. "'Great expectations come to the idol holder.'" A long pause. "What the dickens does that mean?" Gardener groans. "How long have you been saving that one up?" Gary just grins. "About four seconds." The Immunity necklace doesn't come with a built-in relaxant: it is a built-in relaxant. It would probably cancel out the grass. "Since no one just made a break for it, I'm going to assume we're all still working on this one." I know I am. I don't even know why he said 'what the dickens'. I'm still trying to figure out what a 'dickens' is. Robin looks confused. "Literary?" Which quickly transmutes into something closer to a headache. "Christ, not Oliver Twist and then we get a twist where it's good for the next three Councils..." Connie might be vaguely amused: I haven't really seen it on her before, so the identification is a little shaky. "I haven't seen any fields of copper." Exactly what are these people talking about? "Or nickel, for that matter." No, really. A little help here? Because I have no idea where they're going with any of this, and if the clue is based on some kind of book about hunting, I haven't read it. And some of my worry over this must be radiating out, because Azure just rubbed her head against my hair. Phillip frowns: rare for him. "What was that unfinished one? Drood something, right? I think they made it into a play, but I didn't see it when it hit my community theater." "Edwin was the first name," Mary-Jane tells him -- then winces. "And now if you find it, everyone's going to blame me..." Gardener snorts. "I haven't seen a single plant on this island named 'Edwin'." He heads for the fishing supplies and starts carefully sorting through them: Tony's been taking turns with them since his arrival, and he usually manages to get a hook trapped somewhere invisible until the exact moment you impale your finger on it. Gardener was lucky enough to take the first one on the thumbnail, but he's been very careful ever since. "Right now, my first worry is dinner. Trust me, being safe at the vote's a close second, but I want to have enough strength to write any of the longer names down." Unwinding one of the fishing lines from the spear, "Anyone who wants to follow me had better grab a hook and line -- I could use the extra set of sharp things in the water." Tony's probably exactly as frustrated as I think he is. "What's the point in following? Whoever gets it is probably just gonna pass it off anyway." The rest of Haraiki looks briefly mournful at this statement, and some of it has to be an act. They can pass a found idol around as easily as we can -- or is this somehow like the memory game, where they don't see that the same tactic can be used as a counter...? No, it's got to be at least partially faked. Thinking of people other than yourself isn't the normal way to play this game, but there's times when it's necessary and they have to realize this is one of them. Right? Gardener shrugs. "If that's how you're playing it -- or not playing it -- still daylight left, anyway. Alex, do I get a private telling to make up for not getting any of the damn personally-unusable makeup?" No, he doesn't, although Mary-Jane tells him he's a spring, I'm a fall, and never the twain was going to meet anyway. "Whatever -- see you after I've got something." And out to the beach he goes. Robin and Mary-Jane immediately cluster around me, with Robin taking the first shot. "Well, you're still here... I guess that means the rest of us get a chance, unless you're about to make another break for it." I sigh. Azure, who's very likely picked up on my overall mood, does not sigh: right now, it would be a one-way ticket to the perch. No necklace. No idea what the idol clue means, and it sounds like it's book-based -- a book I haven't read. I could be looking at four votes tomorrow night -- or more. "If I knew, I'd be gone already. I don't." The others are starting to scatter a little: Gary and Tony heading for the shelter, Connie to the Tree Mail path, Phillip checking the firewood supply in the storage shack. "And there's not much point to bluffing about knowing the answer." Lie about knowing what it is, get the right location by accident, someone else races off to it and finds the thing, the 'faster flight' curse come back to haunt another show in a different fashion -- maybe I should be following Connie right now, she's the only one heading out of the main camp area... Mary-Jane nods. "So -- can I see what you got, too?" Except that it's been enough time for me to lose her trail if she went out the back way. I go over to the table and start spreading the smuggled contents of my bag out. "Wow! That's some really expensive soap!" "Probably really old, too," Robin decides. "I guess the people who want to be heirs don't care much about someone raiding the bathroom cabinets... Alex, what did happen in there? If Jeff said you didn't have a quiet night --" "After dinner." Hopefully by then I'll have figured out what to include and what to discard on the editing-room floor. "It's okay if you take any of the makeup stuff -- I don't mind." And we're about five seconds away from the border of Mary-Jane's country: please have your passport ready. "These are some really good colors for you -- why didn't you put any on? I can't use them, but someone in the Reward department really knows what they're doing." "Too busy." That's all. Too busy. Okay? Probably not, so let's go to the backup excuse. "And anything I put on will probably just run when the storm starts, anyway." The sky is getting grayer by the minute: the rain almost has to come down soon. Mary-Jane's not quite ready to accept this. "You should still save some for yourself..." I finish emptying the bag. "Guys? Bathroom. Work out what you're taking: I've got other priorities right now." Back to standard plumbing, at least for a few hundred heartbeats while I try to act on an urge that isn't actually there. Get a few theoretical minutes away from questions, time to think about a clue which I don't understand. Great expectations. Right now, I'm expecting to see some votes tomorrow night. The paranoid feeling -- and complete inability to solve the clue -- last through the evening. Nearly everyone stays in camp: Connie's the only person who really wanders in and out, and that's mostly 'out'. Gardener comes back after a couple of guesstimated hours with a slightly smaller load of fish than usual: we wind up filling in with extra rice. Connie doesn't seem to have the idol with her when she comes back. Tony, who went out for a while when he found the bathroom occupied by a makeup-using Robin, probably doesn't have it. I know I don't have it. Some attempts have been made to follow people, but they generally stop when it turns out that Phillip was just going after extra firewood. The rain steadfastly refuses to come down. I tell the others about the hidden staircase over dinner. Much to my surprise, Connie seems to believe every word of it, nodding at several points during the story and chiming in at the end with "Now I know why the radio kept going off while I was putting on makeup," followed by a shrug. "It's a comfort to know there were no human remains there, but it doesn't mean there were never any." Robin looks like she'd shiver if it wouldn't ruin her carefully-built image. "Yeah -- a cage that works for a gorilla would work for a human." Maybe, but it just doesn't feel right to me. Not that I could get a feeling to stand up in court. I glance at Azure, who's still a lousy witness. No answer from her. "I know, but you can't convict someone without evidence." Except in the court of public opinion, where every last one of us will be tried and found guilty of something... they'll probably get me for illegal search, the 'seizure' part can go on the makeup... Gardener snorts, but it's a little softer than usual. "Nice theory..." And this one's back to normal. "I swear you're jinxed, Alex. One jaguar: you run into it. One secret door -- and we can just hope there's one and nothing's going to spring up from beneath us -- you come across it. Which is what makes me think there were no humans hunted here, because there would be at least one ghost and you'd be the one who walked through it." He points at Azure. "That doesn't count." Azure looks vaguely offended. Gary shakes his head. "I've been pretty sure all along that there was nothing brought down here except animals -- but now I don't like the man's methods. Those cages sounded nasty. If you're worried about something lunging, you just don't get that close to the bars." "They were spaced too close together for paws to get through," I tell him. "At least for the bigger animals." Phillip sighs, deep and heartfelt, and then stares at the fire for several long breaths -- until he realizes we're all staring at him. "Sorry." A grin, but it's a weak one. "I've been killing animals since I was five years old. My dad taught me early -- he made sure all of us got used to the idea of where meat came from and what you had to do if you wanted to get it. But he taught us to make it quick, too. Couldn't make it completely painless, but you could at least try to cut down how much it would hurt... Didn't hunt much, though. Not much to hunt, unless you had a real taste for rabbit. It's different when you breed animals. You're responsible for them. You take care of them from the moment they're born, and then when the time comes, you're the one who says that they have to die..." Another sigh, and twenty years drop into Phillip's face. "Never thought I was playing God before. Never wanted to. I'm not giving up what I do, but -- I guess I'll try to make it hurt less." He looks up at us. "All I can do." Gardener nods. "Sometimes, the definition of mercy is a sharp blade." He sounds kind of like he's quoting again, but Phillip still seems to take a little comfort in the phrase. Tony's been quiet for most of the night, working on his fish and rice: this is the first thing he's said that wasn't a request for someone to pass a condiment. "What do you think they'll do after us?" Mary-Jane's turn to express the group's confusion. "You mean the show?" Tony's nod is slow, the lack of speed apparently meant to add emphasis. "Yeah. This is a weird place, with weird things happening... I don't know about you guys, but I think the ratings are going to be awesome when we get home." That quick, almost shy smile. "Maybe we'll be stars... but I don't know about the next group. It puts a lot of pressure on the show, you know? I mean, they can't find a place this weird twice, right? And it's not gonna be like Panama, where they just keep coming back -- not if the heirs are trying to get legal stuff sorted out. So they'll have to do something major to keep the ratings going if we're a hit." Connie can agree with some of that. "This is probably the only trip they'll make here." Robin's thinking it over. "They'll go back to tribal switches, I'm sure about that one. I still can't believe we all stayed intact to the merge." And she's probably not happy about it, either. "They'll need a major twist-up if we wind up being popular," Gardener points out. "Because Tony's right -- they can't expect our stuff to happen twice, and they sure as hell can't set it up to happen." A glance at me there. "Three tribes again -- maybe four -- that's got to be the maximum: you can't track more than that in an hour show." Mary-Jane's got some news. "If we do an hour. I heard a couple of camera people talking -- they said some of the episodes might be extended to ninety minutes." Phillip laughs. "Hope the TiVo can handle it." By now, Tony's got a couple of options ready to go. "Maybe they'll really load up the tribes -- twenty-four people, four groups of six, and Immunity's a joke: everyone goes to Council until they hit eighteen." This one gets talked down: too many people to track, too many Councils to film, plus Tony's math is off. "Okay... celebrities?" Who'd be willing to take our weight loss and frequent lack of makeup? Probably not the upper tier, and it's not the show's style. "Umm... I don't know -- maybe sort the tribes out by religion or race? Say, three tribes, you get six white Christians, six black Muslims, and six Hispanic -- uh... I don't know, I guess they're generally Christian -- maybe six Chinese Buddhists or something..." A long silence -- and then Connie laughs. "As interesting as that might be, I don't think the producer is insane enough to divide people by race or religion, let alone both. I'd certainly watch that one, but it's an open invitation for organizations to protest the show for whatever reasons they can come up with." And don't we all know the Christians will reach the merge intact? Gary can agree with most of that. "There would be picket signs and boycott forms all over the place. Sorry, Tony -- it's probably a ratings grabber, at least for the premiere, but no one's going to put it on the air." Agreement all around, and then we go to bed. I lie on my pallet, trying to figure out a way around the idol clue. Maybe following people is the way to work here: grab it out from under their nose, because I'm not getting there on my own. I could probably beat Gardener in a really long sprint. Of course, by the time I see where he's going, it's a short one. But I keep coming back to what Tony was talking about, an unwelcome intruder on the attempts to guarantee my safety. Sort by religion... sort by race... Never happen... ...and someone's hand is on my shoulder. I automatically pull away and get a harsh whisper. "Alex, wake up!" The hand goes back to my shoulder, squeezes very slightly. This happens to hurt like hell because the abrasions haven't completely healed yet, so I make a fist and open my eyes to find the target -- -- Gardener? Fortunately, he took his hand away when my eyes opened. He may or not may not have noticed the fist. Softly, "Good -- get up and come out here." The bits of sky I can see past Gardener's head and through the shade of the trees is still a ridiculously deep gray: is this storm ever going to start, or is it just going to let the anticipation drive us insane? Azure is still asleep on her perch. "I have to tell you something." Fine... whatever... just don't touch that shoulder again and I'll do most of everything you say, or at least give you half a second to find an excuse before I wind up trying to hurt you... I stumble out of the shelter -- very early: no one else is up, I have to move quietly to avoid waking the others -- and follow Gardener down the Tree Mail path. We get all the way to the quiver before Gardener decides it's safe to talk. "Okay -- two things. First, take a look at this." He pulls out the right cuff of his sweater -- -- and the idol falls into his hand. I just stare at it for a few seconds, blinking away the last bits of sleep and waiting for the idol to shimmer into a talking jaguar kitten. When it doesn't happen this time, I assume I'm no longer in the dream and look up at him. "Where was it?" "In the lake," he tells me, looking like he wants to grin and the only thing holding him back is the most tremendous effort he's put out in the entire game. "It was a pun -- grate expectations. Tied to one of the outlet covers. I got it yesterday -- best way to explain the wet hair: fish for a minute, make sure no one followed me, then take the long way around and go for it." Sounding far too much like a teacher for comfort, "Always listen to your camera people -- when I heard them saying something about the lake and grates a few weeks ago, I didn't know where they were going with it, but I knew that if they shut up when they saw me paying attention, it probably meant something..." Not for the first time, it occurs to me that Gardener plays a very long-term game. "So we've got Immunity and the idol. What's the second thing?" And now he smiles. His front teeth still don't have points: they just really want them. "Don't worry about Council tonight. The tie is dead. We've got majority." I blink. He doesn't say anything else about it, so I do it again. This doesn't seem to be coming across as a prompt. "How?" Who? "I made an offer the recipient couldn't refuse," he tells me. "I want you to take the day off and destress a little. Maybe pretend you're looking for the idol a little, but that's it. Relax, heal up, do some drawing, and just ride it out until Council. This is a lock. I promised you Final Four and now you're going to get it. You and I are seeing the sun come up over the last episode. That's a guarantee." Excuse me? Who made you this promise? "How can you be sure?" Thinking of Mary-Jane, thinking of Angela... "I'm sure," he says, and it's on the thin line between insistence and order: stop worrying about this or else. "This isn't a complicated blindside on you --" is the thought that open, or is Gardener just going for what he (accurately) thought would be my first assumption? "-- and it's not a swing victimization on me, not as long as I've got the idol. Bounce or majority, one of them is going home tonight -- and we're riding all the way to Day Thirty-Seven. After that, things will sort themselves out." Maybe if I say it directly. "Who swung over?" Which Haraiki presented the receiving side of the con game and made Gardener fall for it? Because I've been waiting for him to do something, waiting since Day Fourteen, but if the time came and he actually did it... This grin is more than a little evil. "Oh, no -- you've given me small heart attacks enough times in the last twenty-six days. I'm entitled to surprise you at least once." He starts for the exit. "Just take it easy today. You just made Final Four, Miss First Boot -- try to find something in yourself that's capable of enjoying it." And whistles to himself as he walks away. He's very bad at it. Maybe he needs to practice on a blade of grass. I could probably get him to talk about that, but finding out anything else from him regarding his power move is a lost cause. He might have been thinking about it the whole time. He might have come up with it at the last minute. He can try anything and relax through it because he's got the idol, so if it doesn't work, he's not the immediate victim. But... Maybe he did, and maybe he didn't. Maybe he just thinks he did. And if he's wrong... --------------------------------------------------------- {My God -- it's full of literates!} {Minus two: Tony & Alex are not tracking this conversation.} {Discussion stops because people might have just realized they were giving too much away, Gardener goes fishing (or idol hunting), Tony goes out to find a bathroom (or idol hunt), Alex gives out the goodies -- I think some of those shots might have been taken out of sequence: hard to tell with the lack of direct sunlight, but I think there were cuts there.} {Some discussion around the fire concerning Alex's find -- huh. Farmer's guilt. Never seen that before. I don't think Phillip's going to take up vegetable raising as an exclusive crop, though. Don't they scream when they die?} {Day Twenty-Seven. Tony doesn't know where the idol is, but since someone said 'Oliver Twist', he's looking for -- wait for it -- olive plants. He knows they grow on plants and while he doesn't know what those look like, he's sure he can recognize an olive. Well -- it is thought. And it's an interesting thought. But it's Tony...} {Robin hunting, but she's not having any luck. Voiceover confessional seriously bleeped.} {Cole goes out, Cole comes back...} {Phillip in confessional saying Connie gave him an idea, but he's not finding any copper-bearing rocks and he never saw them on any part of the island. So far, everyone's coming up clueless.} {Haraiki conferencing -- working on their voting target. Gardener under discussion for the usual reasons, but Alex coming up because Connie thinks there's been too many puzzles and the others are starting to agree with her, plus Tony wants revenge and she's tapping into that. Phillip with a counter-current to get Gardener out while there's still time -- which would leave the strength-based challenges to him, but he's not mentioning that. There was probably a Turare conference, but it's not being shown. Weird -- last supposed tie, we saw both sides. Does this mean Haraiki's got something up their collective sleeve? Like the idol?} {Sunset, everyone lighting their torches -- Alex giving hers a long look, last one out of camp...} --------------------------------------------------------- The day was not informative. I did get a chance to speak to Gary, but it didn't help matters any. He was sorry if I didn't like what he'd said to Connie about me, but he was still trying to convince her I was a person: revealing some of my perceived self-doubts was his idea of a first step. However, if it was any consolation to me, he wasn't exactly enjoying the conversations. "I can't completely explain it to you without a little more Bible knowledge on your end, but I've seen some -- well, distortions from her during our discussions. I'm trying to run them down." He'd looked worried. "I want to think I'm wrong, but a few of the talks are going in directions I don't like, and that's not just where you're concerned. Every branch butts heads with every other one on some issues, but..." And that was it. He wanted to get more before he tried to tell me what he was after in the first place. Hooray for the pointless sentences. And Gardener had told him about the idol and majority, also not to worry, and he wasn't worried (probably because he had Immunity), didn't see why I was (because I didn't), and he wasn't going to tell me anything else because Gardener had made him promise not to. Gary was going to keep that promise. Three cheers for good old promise-keeping Gary. Mary-Jane seems to be very slightly out of the loop, or at least last on the list for conferences: I'd just approached her to ask what she'd been told when Gardener and Gary came up to turn it into a full-fledged Turare gathering. Today's topic: who are we voting for? Today's answer: Tony, because after partially-mental Immunity and Reward challenges, more physical things had to be ahead: take out the brain-based items and he was still the most balanced challenge threat. We knew he didn't have the idol because Gardener had the idol, so all clear. And Gardener told Mary-Jane not to worry about the vote, let her know we had a majority, and walked away before she could ask who it was. She asked me instead, and I didn't know. Gary earned himself three cheers more... Gardener's not going to give me the idol: not if it's a blindside. If he's wrong and it's a tie, then he may be the primary target and Tony leaves on the bounce. But if he's lying, if he's switched over to Haraiki somehow... He told me to relax. Paranoia is not relaxing. I do a little fake hunting because it can't really hurt and it's a chance to explore. I do some drawing because it puts something in my hands and keeps me from going for Gardener's throat, although realistically he would just hold me back out of swing range for the ten seconds the camera people would need to officially finish my dart-assisted removal from the game. I don't relax, and I keep up my not-relaxing until about we're all about halfway down the trail to the Tribal Council set -- -- which is when the storm finally decides to break. We do get a warning shot. There's no sudden gusts of wind, no single drop before the torrent. Instead, we get a brilliant yellow-white flash -- and right on top of it, a eardrum-breaking explosion of sound, no more than a hundred feet to the left. The torrential downpour which hits us a heartbeat later is something of an afterthought. Several people yell, two scream, there's one very heartfelt yelp of surprise from Robin, and then order is forgotten: we're all taking off down the path at our best speeds, contestants and crew alike, a unscheduled challenge abruptly put into full and urgent motion. No one's worrying about setting the jungle on fire with nature providing a near-instant quench, although torch streamback is still a concern: we hold them high as we run for it. Gary, right in front of me as we start to move, has his go out first -- and then I'm past him, catching up to one of the camera operators, who's mostly using her unit to keep water out of her eyes. It feels like we're being hit with about a gallon a second, the Council set is pretty close and we're still all going to arrive drenched to the skin, someone's probably going to be seriously sick in the morning if we don't get a chance to dry off and it'll probably be me, my torch is flickering, threating to go out, someone's did just go out and I think it was Mary-Jane's... Too many lights are being extinguished: the trail is getting hard to see. It's fairly smooth and we all know it pretty well by now, but there's still hazards when you're moving this fast in the dark. Someone cries out in pain just ahead of me: Phillip. "I'm okay!" he calls out as I catch up, the words uneven, coming out as having been jarred loose by the half-hopping he's doing on his left foot. "Just hit a rock!" Stubbed toe moving at top speed: hopefully nothing's broken. Azure's squawking her protest, she wants me to get under cover and bring her with me, she's refusing to go and presumably she has some idea of where we're heading, she could always just streak ahead. Passing Connie, and her torch goes out as I overtake her, the dip into the valley isn't that far away -- -- and there's Jeff, standing where the missing wall should be. At least we can all see where we're going now: the set lighting sheds enough illumination to give the entire valley helpful shadows. I can even pick out drops of rain, mostly trickling down my back and into other areas I don't want to think about. Less than probably-three minutes, and 'soaked to the skin' was set in water-broken stone after the second explosion of thunder. "Come on, guys!" he yells over the howling wind, which picked the exact moment he opened his mouth to show up. "It's just a few more feet!" And once again, we all know that already, and having him say it doesn't help a bit, but he wouldn't be Jeff if he didn't point out the obvious every once in a while. Tony and Mary-Jane reach the set one-two and immediately head right for the fireplace. The rest of us follow their example as we enter, and Jeff has only one comment to make about it. "Relight your torches before you place them." Mine survived the onslaught -- barely -- and Gardener's is blazing away. The rest of us had them go out well before we reached the shelter of the Council set. "Can we have five minutes to dry off before we start?" Connie asks, which makes for the first time I've ever felt even remotely grateful towards her. If Jeff grants it -- -- wrong: Jeff shakes his head. "Once the torches are lit and placed, take your seats." Which gets him a dirty look from Connie, but she's got plenty of company. Because my torch is still going, I have to go directly to my seat, dripping water all the way, and Gardener's grumbling follows me all the way into our usual positions. The others just conduct the slowest torch lighting in show history, until it gets to the point where Jeff feels the need to call them on it. "I'm pretty sure those flames aren't getting any brighter. Everyone take your seats." They do, and we're all in our normal places -- including Azure on her perch, and I'm more than a little jealous because the thing is right next to the fire. Clothing-wise, the devastation is complete: whatever we're wearing is plastered against our skin, water is dripping from hair, beards (Gary, mostly -- the others have been keeping it down to stubble), and fingertips. Jeff is dry. We presumably all hate Jeff for this. Mary-Jane looks especially disgusted to have been ripped away from the heat, and the torches aren't close enough to provide warmth. The rain is coming in through the missing wall, but it's falling well short of reaching us. It is, however, partially impacting the left side of the jury area -- and the wind is blowing strongly across that section. It'll be easy enough to sit where it's dry, but it's going to be a little uncomfortable there. Our host looks us all over, starts to look amused at our condition as a pack of eight mostly-drowned rats -- then has the twinkle vanish when he spots Gardener's moderately murderous look. No, Jeff, we are not in the mood. Let us sit by the fire for twenty minutes and we might get into the mood, but right now, don't push us. Being dry in the middle of a group of soaked people is no real reason to die, but there's only one jury to convince of anything out here and criminal charges aren't it... Jeff visibly assesses his odds of survival if he opens his mouth, probably considers how much the show loves the shots of people suffering, and decides to let things stand as presently saturated. "We will now bring in the first member of our jury." Tony immediately turns to face the door -- which opens, and Angela walks in. She's not completely dry: her pants are wet from the knees down. Apparently the jury seat comes with a matching umbrella and poncho in elephant-skin colors. Angela takes her seat in the dry zone. The post-ouster makeover has worked its usual magic: while the planes of her face are still extra-sharp from weight loss, makeup has managed to shadow a few subtle curves into place. She's wearing light gray slacks and a soft pink blouse, long sleeves. Very much the businesswoman taking her leisure. Open-toed high heels: she towered over us as she passed. Nails done, hair done, the cornstraw yellow almost gleaming -- and she spots me looking at her. She's not happy about it. Forgiveness is not coming from Angela's side, and forgetting is out of the question. "Angela," Jeff unnecessarily concludes, "bounced out at the last Tribal Council." He takes his seat. "For the second time in this game, we have a group entering with what they believe is a tie: four to four instead of five to five -- but a tie. The last time, everyone believed the tribal lines were solid and unbreakable, right up until the moment someone crossed them." Mary-Jane's response to this is another cross: her legs, almost followed by her arms, finishing with a brief defiant look. "Robin, do you think we're heading for the tiebreaker tonight?" "If I say yes, will you drop a few hints about what it is?" Phillip laughs as Jeff shakes his head. Robin, visibly miffed, shakes hers, but just to get some water out: drops fly in every direction. Phillip gets hit with most of them. "Yeah, probably. Nothing's been that predictable so far, so I'm not going to make the mistake of saying it's a guarantee. We're probably tied. But that could stop as soon as people cast their votes. It might have stopped before we ever got here. We won't know until you start reading them." Jeff nods to that. "Alex --" oh, great "-- at this point in the game, why would anyone swing? You've all seen how vulnerable a swing vote is in this game, and that still counts even if the promise is initially kept. Fourth place in one group or fifth place with a new one, and no way to be sure of any promise for higher than fifth. Isn't it almost better to take your chances with the tie?" I shrug. More water runs into my bra. Next Reward: personal blow dryer. Suddenly, I'm starting to see the appeal. "Unless you can get an absolute guarantee of a finish higher than fourth, then maybe you're better off. But it wouldn't be impossible to get that promise. It would be hard to believe, and you'd have to get one incredible sales pitch in the first place -- but it could happen. Maybe someone would be so disgusted with their own group, or a few people in it, that they'd switch out of pure spite. Forget where you finish, as long as people go out before you." And now Robin looks very uncomfortable... It's not as if our host hasn't picked up on it, but it's his call as to whether he wants to follow it up. Tonight, he does. "Robin, that statement didn't exactly make you happy." She groans. "Nothing Alex says makes me happy. That's pretty much Alex's job in this tribe. 'I found the idol: there goes Gardener. I gave up the idol: there goes Robin's Final Three...'" Which gets what has to be a partially-faked reaction from Angela: sympathy. "There's been times when I haven't gotten along with everyone on my old tribe. I think that time was called 'the whole game'. But that fifth-fourth argument is too solid. I'd rather take my chances on fourth and move on from there." "Or you could be lying," Jeff points out. Robin spreads her hands: water drips off her fingernails. "Or I could be lying." A grin. "Guess we'll have to wait to see that one, huh?" Tony's not exactly happy about that statement, and Angela's echoing it. Phillip and Connie seems to be treating it as the joke that it probably is. And now that we're all thinking about vote flips -- time to change tactics! (Not that it'll help: we're still all thinking about vote flips. Put paranoia on stove, allow to heat up in the way you're forbidding the contestants to, simmer...) "Connie, I think it's safe to say you and Alex provided two of the most unexpected game moments of the season: being put together by random draw --" just a little extra stress on the last two words "-- and then winning." Angela blinks hard. "How did you feel about that?" Connie treats Jeff to a laugh. She's in full makeup tonight, but some of it was damaged by the storm: no drying time, no touch-up time. Robin and Mary-Jane are in similar-if-lesser states of layer disrepair. "Delighted. We've all seen Alex scheming her way through the challenges: it was nice to be on the receiving end of that for a change. If it wasn't for her realizing that we could go after any token we could reach, we would have lost time in there. Without that edge, I think we would have finished second." She has to stop for a moment -- another lightning bolt just struck in the distance, the flash visible in the missing wall, and the peal of thunder takes some time to die away. "And of course, you would have missed all that fascinating footage of the mansion's underbelly." Jeff treats us to a grin. "We're not going to go there just yet. Mary-Jane, you look like you want to say something." "Yeah, I do," she immediately responds -- then turns to face Tony. "Once and for all: this --" holding up one arm "-- is your left!" Virtually everyone laughs, Angela included. Tony just blushes. "Sorry -- things get so mixed up in the challenges, and I wasn't paying attention..." Mary-Jane lets him mostly off the hook with a small sigh. "I know, but honestly, Tony..." Leaving just a small barb under the skin -- and we all stop for a moment, shivering as a particularly strong gust of wind blows through the set. Several torches flicker, but nothing goes out. Angela almost shifts all the way out of the jury area in her attempt to stay dry, but stops on the edge of her elephant-leg seat. Tony's still feeling the sting. "I know -- if this was still two tribes for the vote, I'd be looking for another message vote tonight." Muttering a little now, "And my coach is gonna kill me..." From there, it goes to the usual scattershot, with Angela casting an appraising eye over all of it. The underground chamber is brought up again, and Gardener's had some time to think about his commentary. "You know what I asked Alex when she was done?" I remember: he'd asked it in private. "Whether she'd seen any claw marks or bloodstains on the mansion walls. With the kitten skeletons in the cage -- well, the mother going nuts, getting loose, and getting upstairs wasn't completely out of the question, especially since Alex said the door didn't automatically close behind her. But we don't know. They could have been the offspring from another animal -- and there weren't any claw marks or bloodstains in the areas she saw, but it's not like the thing would have been attacking carpets and wood -- and you've got to figure no one cleaned up before they ran. I'm starting to realize that we'll probably never have an answer for what happened to the man, and it's really starting to piss me off." Tony's getting a little sick of the challenges: I guess why before he says it. "I want some more lift this, run through there, hold that for as long as you can. It's starting to feel like I signed on for extra credit classes and no one told me what the paper was for." He automatically checks Angela to see if she's smiling: the expression gets there just in time. "I know I'm not the brightest guy here, but there's things I'm good at, and I wish a few more of them would come up." Phillip's starting to feel the physical wear and tear. "It's a little harder to get up in the morning, a bit rougher to get going when you have to work. I've always put in hard days, but they've been with solid meals before, during, and after. Gardener's doing his best, and we've all been taking our part for fruit and stuff. I think just about everyone except Connie's done a little fishing by now." Very possible: Mary-Jane's taken her turn on the line, Robin tried out the spear... "But it's just not enough. I'm a big guy, and I need a lot of fuel. What we're getting keeps me going, but I won't feel like myself until I get to sit down to something with a lot of meat and potatoes in it." He grins. "Hopefully that's not at the mansion, unless we get a second Reward there. But right now, if those bones in that cave weren't so old, I'd be going right for the marrow." For Robin's part, she's started to look towards the future -- the very far-seeming future. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't want a little fame out of this. A little fame is probably about all I could hope for unless I managed to pull off the win. When you're a dancer, you get used to seeing other people take the bows. The background chorus is never called out in front of the curtain unless the show's closing -- and I can't sing that well." Looking resigned, "I can act enough to save my life -- but once you're labeled as a pure dancer, you're background material forever. Maybe being here is enough to change that. Slightly larger parts would be nice. Speaking parts -- I don't know. I'd just like to think that million or no million, I can turn being here into something that'll last past the show." She takes a quick glance at Connie, who doesn't seem to notice. "Something other than people giving me weird 'do I know her?' looks for the rest of my life." That leads us into a discussion of what we're all expecting to come from the show. Gardener's direct: nothing. Expect nothing, and you're never disappointed and occasionally pleasantly surprised. Maybe something will happen, but he's not expecting it to. I quash my thoughts -- the ones Jeff tried to invoke when he spoke to me in the shelter -- and just say it would be nice if it led to a few more website visitors and book sales, but that's probably the most I can expect, and that'll be short-term. (Robin gives me a really strange look at that one: Mary-Jane is about two seconds behind her.) Gary figures he'll get better cuts of meat at the supermarket. Phillip wouldn't mind if it wound up leading to some more travel. Connie would like a little more influence in the community. Tony's hoping for a promotion to Triple-A, or maybe even the majors for a September call-up. "Even if they just want an excuse to play the music before I bat, and maybe some clips on the scoreboard..." Mary-Jane's response is quick and sincere: more work. More attempts to invoke pre-vote jitters: who feels at risk tonight? Gardener puts his hand up, Phillip and Tony are close behind, and I come in fourth. Jeff covers them and the usual reasons before starting on me. "Another blindside worry, Alex?" "I don't have the necklace," I point out, "and I don't have the idol." Haraiki looks really dubious when I say that. No, really. Gardener has the idol. Again. And he wouldn't give it to me... "Plus I've offended Haraiki really recently." In the jury section, Angela favors me with a hard nod. "If it's four to four --" carefully, trying not to echo Trooper "-- then my having one of the voting blocks going for me isn't out of the question." And on our side, there's a sudden hardness to Tony's face... ...oh no... Okay: maybe he was just thinking it over again, considering plans for the future. But... "Gary, you do have the necklace," Jeff points out. "Alex just has --" he looks at Phillip's creation. I'm pretty sure he's not looking at the soaked resting point. The camera operators have been spending enough time there already. "-- a non-functional version. Since we've had some form of Immunity going everywhere this season, do you want to complete the card by passing this on?" The vote is approaching, and if he saw Tony's face... Gary shakes his head. "With my luck, this is going to be my only one. I'd like to appreciate it for a while." Well, he missed Tony's expression. I could almost wish I had. The one person who could save me if I'd suddenly gone to primary on the target list just missed his chance, they would have just switched to Gardener -- who can't transfer the idol at Council -- -- and he has to be primary, that was just lingering frustration from Tony... "In that case," Jeff decides, "it's time to vote. Robin, you're up first." She doesn't take long. Phillip goes second, then Connie, Tony, Gardener -- me. The storm hasn't lessened any while we were talking: if anything, the wind's gotten even stronger. I leave Azure behind and make the dash out to the voting blind by myself. Back to changing my handwriting: a new variation -- and hold up the vote: Tony. I need something to say, the rain is coming in, a poncho-draped camera operator is standing by with fresh parchment to put on the desk that was dried just before I wrote on it, the vote is getting soaked -- -- and finally, "By the time you see this, you'll know what you really were to Angela." Pause. "I'm sorry, Tony. I don't know if you'll ever believe that -- but I am sorry..." I fold the vote. "Here goes nothing." Nothing except for the ever-increasing number of butterflies in my stomach. Into the cylinder, and then I go back to the others. Gary and Mary-Jane head out and return, Jeff makes his standard announcement, and we all watch as the tribe, united in this if nothing else, enjoys collecting a bit of revenge: he has to go outside to get those votes, and he can't put a full-body cover on before doing so. It doesn't remove the chance that someone will pass him an umbrella and poncho as soon as he reaches the other side of the door -- but the weather cooperates with a moment of extra-heavy rain combined with a wind gust that shakes Azure's perch (and draws a very loud "Close That Window!" in protest). When Jeff returns, he does so with a partially-dry shirt and fully-soaked legs. His hair, as usual, is completely intact. He sets the cylinder down. "Once the votes are read, the decision is final, and the person voted out will be asked to leave the Tribal Council area immediately." Lid off, no clatter. "I'll read the votes." And the pause seems to stretch out for hours. I wish he'd start. I wish he'd get it over with. I don't feel good about this one. I haven't felt good about pretty much any of them, but this one feels extra-bad... The first very wet piece of parchment emerges from the cylinder. Jeff looks it over, then turns it. "First vote: Tony." Who was expecting it all the way: one resigned nod, then back to watching the cylinder. "Second vote --" Has anyone actually ever been driven insane by someone else's inability to get on with a sentence? "-- Alex." Behind me, Gary's breathing changes: it's just gone hard and deep. I can't see the expressions on the faces of the others, because I'm staring straight ahead at the vote. It's not changing. It's still my name. Haraiki votes as a unit and that means there are more votes coming. I have exactly three results in front of me: tie and whatever follows, out, or -- -- rely on someone else. I might be able to beat the first. I currently have no ability to stop the second. I'm no good at all when it comes to the third. Switch gaze focus, just long enough to check Mary-Jane and Gardener. Mary-Jane looks worried: she should only be in this seat, which is heating up fast. She hasn't had a vote cast against her yet. Gardener looks relaxed, and why not? He's got the idol. Meanwhile, Jeff's doing his job. "Third vote: Tony." Well, at least it's not going to be a seven-one flood. "Fourth vote -- you know, somewhere in America, there's a small child watching this show, this will be the first capital A he's ever seen, and it'll scar him for the rest of his life -- Alex." And Tony can't even place any blame on rain blurring the ink. "We're tied: two votes Tony, two votes Alex." That's when Tony looks at me, and his eyes aren't as angry as I thought they'd be. But this is still revenge. Tony was worried about more puzzle challenges, Tony thinks he can beat anything physical and somewhere along the line, Haraiki switched voting philosophies. 'Eat the smart' is now in effect, and I somehow wound up grouped with 'the smart'. My teachers would be very surprised. Sample bites of Alex are now being cooked up in Council Nine: please drop by for a free taste. He talked them into voting for me, or someone did and Tony was only too happy to go along with it. I could be out right here, with no protection of any kind and nothing I can do to stop anything... The position feels far too familiar. I hate being in these wet clothes in a cold wind. I hate shivering. I hate being the only one who's doing it. "Fifth vote," Jeff relentlessly continues, "Tony. Sixth vote: Alex. Three to three." He executes another fatality-inducing pause before reaching into the cylinder again. I'm down to exactly two chances and it's so hard to believe in the third, if the next vote has my name on it, then I'm in real trouble, I'll be back in the mansion soon enough and maybe Azure can show me the secret passages on the upper floor that'll help me avoid Angela -- The voice is far too placid for the words it says. "Seventh vote: Tony." -- it's not over. I'm not safe. I'm not anywhere near safe. I can still go into the tiebreaker. I can lose -- -- and Jeff lets me know what my fate is. "Eighth vote --" -- I swear, if he doesn't learn to pick up his speaking speed, I'm going to glare at him from the jury all the way to Final Two -- "-- Tony." ---------------------------------------------------------- {Say what?} {...five votes? From where?} {We've got a swinger! Someone just switched!} {Who the hell? Or, to pull out that other old favorite, WTF?} {Who was stupid enough to believe a promise after Angela laid down that clinic on Mary-Jane? I thought we were looking at a tie: Tony vs. Alex, and for pretty much anything they could do at Council, Tony's probably out! Fallen Comrades: Alex, better listener, better memory. Fire building: Alex, more practice. Endurance: not tonight, dear, we have a challenge in the morning. And now Tony's out on five votes? Bet we don't see the ballots again.} {No bet. After the last time, I know EPMB will keep this one in the dark.} {Robin, it must have been Robin from what she was saying before, but she's not that dumb... maybe she was just finally that fed up...} {Tony can't believe what just happened, but --} --------------------------------------------------------------- -- he's taking it better than I thought he would. Standing up easily, turning to survey us before he takes the last walk, and he's not bothering to look at Turare faces. There's no point: Mary-Jane's openly (if quietly) celebrating again, Gary's calm, and Gardener is a rock. For my part, I'm concentrating on my breathing. Close. Too close... Maybe my heartbeat is only that fast to my own perspective, maybe my breathing is calm. It still feels like I just had a twenty-ton meteor come blazing down through the sky and stop two inches over my head, followed by a teleport ten feet to the right. All that's missing is my holding up a tiny cartoon umbrella and a little sign with the word 'Help!' on it. Tony wants to see Haraiki faces, and so do I. What we're both seeing is Robin in open shock, Phillip feeling the cold numbness of the possible Pagonging settling in, Connie's anger unleashed in full force -- -- he turns away, collects his torch, and walks up to Jeff. Tony didn't find what he was looking for in the voting seats. Tony didn't find what he was looking for on the island. No million dollars? That's going to be the eventual fate for fifteen of us. But Tony wanted something else, something that he might have even believed was more important -- and in a future that no longer seems so far away, he's going to find out he didn't get that either... I want to call out after him. I want to try telling him the truth one more time, because if there's any moment when he might believe those words, this would have to be it: betrayed, vulnerable, open to any explanation even if it's for a different subject entirely. But Angela's right there -- -- and Tony won't believe me. No one ever believes me. "Damn," Tony softly says as he plants his torch in front of Jeff. "Damn, damn, damn..." He looks back at Angela. "I'm sorry..." She nods to him, smiles weakly. She's not surprised. I'm not sure anything could surprise her at this point. "Tony." He turns back to face Jeff. "The tribe has spoken. It's time for you to go." And then there's one less flame in the room. "It's cool, Jeff," Tony tells him. "I got one hell of a second prize." Another look at Angela. "See you in a few hours." And back to us before he can see what I spotted: the touch of distaste... One more survey of Haraiki that gets exactly nowhere, and Tony goes out the door. Jeff surveys us, and I don't know if he's finding what he's looking for either. "Twice, two groups have come in here certain of everyone's voting position," he tells us. "Twice, one group has been wrong. You never know what the votes are going to say until they come out. The game may settle down. The game may become predictable. But you don't know." This pause hurts a lot less. "The idol was found and not used: it has to be turned in." Gardener does his part: removes the idol from his bag, hands it over to a form of applause in a completely blank look from Angela, explains the clue, sits back down. "Three days from now, this tribe will meet again to decide who has a one-in-six chance at a million dollars -- and who has none." A little more softly, "And ultimately, it will be down to one-in-two for the title of Sole Survivor -- which might even mean just as much as the prize. Head on out -- I'll see you tomorrow." We start to stand -- and the lightning crashes down. Mary-Jane glances back at Jeff, but there's no mercy to be found here. We can't huddle around the stove's fire for a while: we have to go back out into the storm and get soaked again. We will shiver in our shelter, there won't be enough blankets to go around, there's no way to get a fire going in this, and we'll probably wind up changing clothes in stages again just so we'll be less sick. The odds of someone getting a cold out of this are very strong, and my body's been stressed more than anyone's... I walk over to recover Azure as the others start to head out -- and pause to watch me make the attempt. Azure is very reluctant to come along. She wants to come with me, but she is not happy about risking the storm. One of the camera operators starts talking about bringing her back under an umbrella: I can't carry one because it's favor towards me, but Azure stands outside the game. An argument breaks out about who could take her, and whether or not she'd even go. She takes food from everyone, but she only rides along with me. My vote won't count for this one, and I want the argument to continue for a while: it's letting me stand near the fire. The others notice and decide to get in on it: the group starts to move closer. I look at Gardener as he approaches, and he treats me to a grin the jaguar would have envied. I can imagine his thoughts, and they're saying one thing: Final Four. Without the idol to use and instant forgiveness, the swing vote may have nowhere left to swing back to. And then I look at Connie -- -- and she nods. Just once. Very quick, very small. You would have to be looking directly at her at exactly the right moment, and that was just a single heartbeat. But it was there. Gardener did what I couldn't. What I had to let him do, couldn't stand in the way of because it was the only path through the tie... Hello, my enemy. Hello, my ally. She convinced Haraiki to vote for me, made them fear puzzle challenges after she'd already switched. Maybe she'd even told them Gardener had the idol and wasn't giving it up, after he'd told her. Three message votes: I want you gone, I will make you go, and you can just sit and sweat this out. But for now, she's with us. Just not with me. We all cluster near the fire as the argument proceeds, the heat starting to become oddly uncomfortable on my skin. I look at Connie again, and she doesn't respond this time. And when the thought comes, it comes hard: a full-speed charge directly against foundations shaken after the stress of the too-close vote, and I just barely push it back before it registers on the outside -- but it's there, hovering just below the surface, and there's no way I can ignore it. Dismiss it, yes, I'm trying -- but it won't go away. I let it happen. I didn't try to stop it and count on using the idol or just outright beating the tie. Even by proxy -- -- I just made a deal with the devil... -------------------------------------------------------------- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . (End of Episode #9)   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

vince3 15726 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-23-06, 11:10 PM (EST) 9. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Conclusion" -- I just made a deal with the devil... and the 4th card (The Devil) is looking to be checked off in an episode or two........ *blink* Connie!?! Well, the devil's in the details....... and now my top 3 in the PTTE is looking really good....... mostly, anyways........ Tribe's Super Sig!   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

cahaya 14104 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-24-06, 03:04 AM (EST) 10. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Conclusion" Speaking of the PTTE, it's now in the Survivor Games Forum! A spooky tribephyl creation. (At first, I wondered where it went to!)   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Colonel Zoidberg 3370 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Car Show Celebrity" 10-24-06, 12:42 PM (EST) 11. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Conclusion" Well, this is getting more and more surreal...that's what's different about this - it's totally surreal. It's like Survivor: Ally McBeal. Suspend disbelief. And it's the best thing ever. Small nitpick, though: Joanna was the religious nut job from Amazon who hated the immunity idol, not Jolanda. Jolanda was the loudmouth who thought she had to make decisions for everyone in Palau. No word on if she was a Christian or not.   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-24-06, 03:37 PM (EST) 12. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Conclusion" My typo: fixed. This is what I get for posting after that long a run.   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

cahaya 14104 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-24-06, 09:51 PM (EST) 16. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Conclusion" There's more American culture and TV written into one episode here than a chapter of Stephen King, who's a master at it. A spooky tribephyl creation. Intriguing visit to the billionaire's morbid lair!   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Belle Book 1925 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Herbal Healing Drugs Endorser" 01-11-09, 07:08 PM (EST) 27. "RE: I Thought It Was Always The Candlestick: Conclusion" Seems like this is the Devil card coming out now. An evil influence coming into Alex's life -- that sure sounds like Connie to me. Now for my love list: 1. Alex -- well, well, well. You worked together really well with Connie. And you found out more about the billionaire. And best of all, you hit the nail right on the head with Connie! 2. Gary -- great job in the Immunity Challenge! Too bad you couldn't give Robin a good enough deal that she'd be willing to take. If she had, Connie might not have flipped. 3. Phillip -- I think I hear the sounds of a Pagonging in your immediate future. Too bad -- I really like you. 4. Mary-Jane -- you did a good job in the Reward Challenge. Too bad for you Tony still has a hard time distinguishing between his right and his left! 5. Robin -- maybe you should've beaten Connie to the punch by making an offer of your own -- sell your vote to any two in Turare if you were taken to the Final 3. But you didn't and nobody could give you a deal you'd take -- and you're stuck. 6. Gardner -- looks like your trainees' efforts to sneak by with modern literature courses really helped you out there! Good job in finding the Hidden Immunity Idol and in swinging Connie -- even if I despise her. 7. Connie -- Alex hit the nail right on the head: you need someone to hate. And here, it's Alex. The problem is, she's stronger than you. You might break down before she does. Azure: You must've loved being back in the mansion again! Too bad it was for such a short time. Out: Tony. Sigh. I really feel for you. You're going to have your heart broken and you don't know it -- yet. But you will. And I hate to see it happen to you. Belle Book   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

rasslinmomma 925 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Fitness Correspondent" 10-24-06, 04:14 PM (EST) 13. "What did Gardener offer Connie?" LAST EDITED ON 10-24-06 AT 04:16 PM (EST) Wow - what an episode. First Alex and Connie working together, then Connie flipping on the vote! What could Gardener possibly have offered up to Connie to make her believe he wouldn't betray her after they get rid of Phillip or Robin? Who could Gardner be planning to betray to keep his promise to Connie, or is he risking loosing her vote by dumping her at six? Gary - get rid of the other strong competator and increase Gardner's chances of winning the physical challenges? Mary Jane - coattail rider - could this be payback for her earlier betrayal? Alex - he promised her final 4 - is he telling the truth or just trying to make her feel safe? Courtesy of the very talented ARnutz   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

michel 6689 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-24-06, 08:02 PM (EST) 14. "RE: What did Gardener offer Connie?" {Connie probably knew Gardener wouldn't flip after Angela's triumphant outburst but what about this: She offers him her vote and maybe even agree to boot Robin next. Gardener remains in charge but he has to promise to boot Alex right after. There is only Alex that Gardener could offer.} {Why not boot Alex right then?} {Gardener loses control if he boots her then}   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

xwraith27 1136 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Politically Incorrect Guest" 10-24-06, 08:34 PM (EST) 15. "RE: What did Gardener offer Connie?" LAST EDITED ON 10-24-06 AT 10:26 PM (EST) What could Gardener possibly have offered up to Connie to make her believe he wouldn't betray her after they get rid of Phillip or Robin? {Final Three. Gardener could've promised Connie an F3 spot with Gary (who seems to be the only person Connie doesn't antagonize). Gardener promised Alex F4, and I think he'll stick to that promise. With Alex saving his a$$ by giving him the HII, the least he can do to pay her back is to tell her when she's going. Maybe Connie thinks that she'll be able to beat both guys in an endurance/balance challenge. MJ and Robin are less of physical threats that Philip. I think he'll go next, then an F6 blindside with MJ going (Gary and Gardener flipping). Robin goes at F5 if only for Gardener's F4 promise to Alex.}   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

AyaK 8129 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-25-06, 09:52 PM (EST) 17. "RE: What did Gardener offer Connie?" {But ... Connie has to know how precarious her situation is after booting Tony. She'd only switch if she thought she was switching into a position of power. I wouldn't be surprised if the deal calls for a Final Five of Gardener, Gary, Connie, Philip and Alex. Gary and Gardener would go along with that, because their tribe would have a 3-2 majority -- but the deal may call for Gary to go out fifth, though Gary and Alex don't know it. Connie's goal would be for a Final Four without Alex. Now that Connie knows Robin and Alex came out of the same audition, she'll want Robin and MJ gone next so Alex is isolated in a position of weakness -- kinda like her original position. With Gary set to go out fifth, Connie may think she can tell him about the final three and then use him to take out Alex and double-cross Gardener.} {Why would Gardener accept a final three with Connie and Philip?} {He's a competitor. He likes the competition. And he likes Philip. Anyway, it removes him from the role of Target #1 and guarantees him a spot in every challenge.} {In that case, maybe Connie's deal calls for MJ to go next, thus regaining the tie, then for Robin to go, then Gary, then Alex -- but if Connie decided to back out, she could do it after next week, once she'd regained the tie.} {We don't really know what was bartered for Connie's vote this week. Not a clue.} {Think Philip and Robin would trust her again?} {Think they know? As far as we know, the tribes still don't know who was the third vote for Alex in episode 6, although we (mostly) presumed it was Gardener at the time -- but his comments afterward sure cast suspicion on Trooper. Perhaps Connie will do something similar.} {Nice of CBS to finally post the voting breakdown for Ep. 6, so that we know that it was actually Gary who provided that third vote to save Alex. No one guessed Gary that night. Think he was just sick of Does-Not-Listen Desmond -- or might there be a hidden alliance there?} {If there is, then Connie's even a bigger moron than we thought. And we already think she's Queen of the Morons.} {Don't discount the hidden Gardener-Alex alliance. Remember, he probably knew she was safe with the hidden idol. The others didn't. And she gave him the idol in E8 when she found it and he was the boot choice. Even if that was the sensible thing to do, you have to trust the person with whom you're making the deal. Ergo, Alex trusts Gardener.} {Has anyone else noticed that we're literally re-depicting Trina's tarot cards? We saw The Fool (the plunge over the cliff) in Episode 8. We saw Death (the skeletons, including the child skeleton) in the subterranean hunting zoo in Episode 9. The next card is The Devil. Anyone got a picture of it? Look for it next time on Survivor: The Paranormal Islands.} {After hearing Connie's views on religion, I think she's the devil.} {Cut the crap. Burnett plants those images wherever he wants them.} {I don't think the jaguar was a plant, do you?} {Ditto -- and what are you suggesting? That Burnett got a set of tarot cards so he could re-create the scenes for Alex? Even Democrats wouldn't believe in that far-fetched of a conspiracy theory.} {ESAD.} {Gotta love those intellectual replies filled with logic.} {I'm surprised no one commented that all the torches except Gardener's and Alex's went out during the rainstorm. Final two foreshadowing, anyone?) {You know, Robin's finally got an incentive to flip. If Alex wanted to gain control of this game, she could try to form her own Final Four pact with Robin and MJ next episode, while they're still around. But I don't know how she gets a fourth.} {Yeah, it would be hard for Gardener or Gary to get Connie's vote in the finals if either one double-crosses her this quickly.}   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-26-06, 11:02 AM (EST) 18. "Just for the record:" LAST EDITED ON 10-26-06 AT 11:07 AM (EST) Some of AyaK's DAW Chorus commentary takes place in an alternate universe. A really distant alternate universe. Which is not the one Amanu is currently operating in. Right now, for the real (heh) series and group, the Episode #6 votes have not been revealed. Alex's early Survivor Gold confessionals led some people to believe she might have made an early attempt to work with Gary (or vice-versa) -- but that's been almost completely drowned out by the Gardener/Alex theory, which is officially way too loud. And even those doubting members of the Chorus aren't sure if Gary wasn't just trying to play Alex and get a window into the female side of Turare -- after all, he has to be playing someone, right? Only two votes were shown for this episode: Tony and Alex (in that order), both with commentary. The full ballot spread was not revealed before the credits. Tony's commentary will come into play during his Early Show segment. Yes, he's actually going to show up.   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

AyaK 8129 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-26-06, 02:55 PM (EST) 19. "So..." Right now, for the real (heh) series and group, the Episode #6 votes have not been revealed. So this show takes place in an alternate universe in which CBS doesn't air the show? Does the Chenbot now work for "EBS": the Estee Broadcasting System? And why would you hire her, anyway?   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-26-06, 03:39 PM (EST) 20. "RE: So..." Okay, rephrase for the judge, jury, and probable-executioner-in-waiting, your honor: the virtual Burnett did not run the usual quick sequence of 'here is a contestant holding up their vote: repeat until everyone knows where every last vote came from' images at the end of Episode #6. Jeff gave out the tally, but no one showed the sources. (The same thing happened with Episode #9.) It's an extension of 'alliances revealed never succeed': a few more things are being kept hidden from the viewers, much to the frustration of the DAW Chorus. They're used to seeing votes as a final (if temporary) confirmation as to who stands where. Right now, they're mostly flying blind, and it's annoying them. A lot. Sorry about the breach in phrasing. I guess I'll never pass that (censored) bar. And believe me, I'd rather have Anderson Cooper on a very temporary CBS Early Show beat. Or even Howard. The virtual Chenbot has not been very good at breaking through when a contestant doesn't want to talk (Angela) or stopping them if they hit the rant trail (Desmond). As Gardener might put it, "I did not go through all this in order to sit in front of a blank-faced trophy and be asked what I was thinking when I initially cut my hair really, really short." But... With you, I just blame the legal training. A lot. By the way, EBS is not airing Jerico, because Now And Again has been a hit for so many years and why would any sane person take away its time slot?   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

AyaK 8129 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-27-06, 12:18 PM (EST) 21. "EBS website?" There have been a few times that Burnett has decided not to show us the votes, especially where there has been a shocker. But we spoilers all know (or, in my case, knew) to wake up in the morning and go to the CBS Website, where all the votes from the night before are neatly posted. That's why I ran the debate the way I did above. See, if the show aired on CBS, then the night of the show, people would have debated that Gardener was just acting but that he'd voted for Desmond. The next day, we would have learned that it was Gary who voted for Desmond -- but that wouldn't have ended the discussion. Those who believed in the Gardener-Alex alliance would have argued that Gardener knew she had the hidden idol and that the only twist was that he didn't know who gave her the third vote -- maybe he even was legitimately angry and thought Alex had double-crossed him by not telling him that she had ANOTHER deal. There would be some discussion of a Gary-Alex pact, but we haven't seen anything that indicates that one exists. And Alex giving Gardener the hidden idol would have seemed like confirmation about their hidden alliance EVEN THOUGH everyone knew that Gary had been Alex's third "ally" in E6. Similarly, the CBS Website would have confirmed the day after E9 that Connie was the switch. Guess what? The boards would be full of Gary-Connie alliance posts. Some people would say that Gary had been an independent, since he'd stood by Alex in E6. but that he must have turned to the dark side to get Connie's vote. And, frankly, that's probably where my post above goes wrong. NOT the discussion about E6, but the discussion about Gardener. I don't believe that CBS has shown us anything that would let us know that it was Gardener and not Gary who set up Connie's vote switch. Therefore, we'd be inundated with posts about the Gary-Connie alliance (like we were about the Tina-Keith alliance in S2 ) and a discussion about the terms of the deal. (One of my few claims to spoiling fame was being the first in the spoiling community to figure out that the real Ogakor alliance was Colby-Tina ... and I only figured that out as a consequence of Mitchell's talk in South Dakota, when he talked about Colby and Tina making the decision to take him out on the walk to TC -- and he knew all about it, so it wasn't a blindside, as it seemed on the show. Right now, the Alex-Gary alliance would still be as mysterious as Colby-Tina was, even though we know all the votes.) Of course, EBS may not have a website for the show that posts the votes. I kinda think of EBS as a downscale version of Spike TV.   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-27-06, 01:42 PM (EST) 22. "RE: EBS website?" When all else fails, plead alternate universe. In this slightly removed plane of existence, most of the episodes had their votes posted the next day as per normal: two have not. It's been a weird season, 'kay? ;) (Exactly what on/off Earth are we arguing about, anyway?) Of course, EBS may not have a website for the show that posts the votes. I kinda think of EBS as a downscale version of Spike TV. You really know how to hurt someone. And I wasn't around for Australia -- I watched it, but that was well before I came here. Still, belated congrats. One of the things that should come out in the next episode is Alex's frustration with the editing: the bit of confessional they showed the public makes it look (at least to her) like she swung the vote. The Survivor Gold subscribers know differently (although a few of them are convinced Alex is going so far as lie in confessional, just in case), but they have it from her that it wasn't Gary. Mary-Jane is out of the con job running in most people's eyes, so that leaves Gardener. And what does that do? It makes it look like Gardener and Alex agreed to bring the vote over, but to let Gardener do the talking. Which may start pointing people towards Connie, because that's the only person Alex couldn't realistically make the attempt with. Not that Gardener seems to have been making much more headway there, but... But there will be a number of people believing that Gary & Connie are the real team here, as they've been shown to get along -- and of course, Connie's attempt to bring Gary over was televised. The possibility that he found a good offer to bring her -- one that wasn't shown -- will be on people's minds. Those who believed in the Gardener-Alex alliance would have argued that Gardener knew she had the hidden idol and that the only twist was that he didn't know who gave her the third vote -- maybe he even was legitimately angry and thought Alex had double-crossed him by not telling him that she had ANOTHER deal. Huh. Yeah, I can see that happening, although most of the G/A element in the chorus is convinced Gardener was acting up a storm there to cover up his having placed the vote: blame Trooper, divert attention. For obvious reasons, we're not seeing every thread and subsection of same -- six thousand pages per episode: I would die -- but that talk probably took place. Again, though, people would have oriented on Trooper and his complete lack of enthusiasm in searching for the idol. As alliance partners, Gary & Alex are so far under the radar that they're threatening to register on sonar. There would be some discussion of a Gary-Alex pact, but we haven't seen anything that indicates that one exists. And Alex giving Gardener the hidden idol would have seemed like confirmation about their hidden alliance EVEN THOUGH everyone knew that Gary had been Alex's third "ally" in E6. We're silly that way.   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

AyaK 8129 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-27-06, 02:38 PM (EST) 23. "RE: EBS website?" You weren't around for E2? I didn't remember that. Bebo joined us then, with her theory that there was a secret alliance between Keith and Amber, and I thought you came in around that time too. FWIW, here's the post describing Mitchell's talk, which took place after E7 of S2. As far as I know, there has never been anything like it in the Survivor universe, either before or after. He tells the entire story of the pre-game and game. As I note, I think this talk violated the terms of Mitchell's contract by revealing Survivor "trade secrets": Notes from a Mitchell appearance In the subsequent posts, I also bring up the S1 "food mutiny" story, which led Burnett to triple the number of cameramen and add round-the-clock filming. Those were the days ... when Survivor didn't run like a well-oiled machine. I slightly misremembered Mitchell's story -- and why it wasn't clear about the Tina-Colby alliance. Mitchell talks about Tina coming up to talk with him on the walk, then dropping back to talk with Colby. Most peeps thought Tina was just fishing for a third vote for her alliance with Keith (like Alex in S6), including me at first. It took me a couple of days to realize that Tina and Colby already knew that they could vote off Mitchell but wanted to keep him because the "core" Ogakor alliance was the merger of the Colby-Tina team and the Mitchell-Jerri team. That's why they asked Mitchell to target Amber; they didn't want a split in the core (but they had to settle for it when Mitchell wouldn't flip). And I was fascinated that Mitchell could read Colby's vote in the bin when he went to put his in. Oooh, I would have loved to have seen his reaction....   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

Estee 44384 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-27-06, 03:03 PM (EST) 24. "RE: EBS website?" You weren't around for E2? Nope. I came in at Panama. The first Panama. Add it to the list of things you can blame Rupert for. My first post came because I missed a bit of episode and was wondering if anyone had ever noticed the missing shoes. Great post -- and yeah, MB was probably sending special couriers to Mitchell's house for weeks. That little Q&A will probbaly remain unique, under penalty of contract law. But it must have been fun to be in that audience.   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

AyaK 8129 desperate attention whore postings DAW Level: "Playboy Centerfold" 10-27-06, 07:08 PM (EST) 25. "Colby and Tina" LAST EDITED ON 10-27-06 AT 07:17 PM (EST) This brought back such memories (including my cluelessness) that I had to look up when I figured out the Colby-Tina alliance. Actually, it was just the next day: http://community.realitytvworld.com/boards/cgi-bin/dcboard.cgi?az=show_thread&om=989&forum=DCForumID2&archive=yes#56 And then the day after that I posted it on the EBT public portion of the website (remember the EBT?) ... and the rest of S2 was simply wild, right through to the EBT being featured in a sidebar to the front-page story in USA Today on the day of the S2 finale. Edited to add: In the EBT post, I added that Jerri would be the next target. I now see that I "borrowed" that conclusion from SurvivinDawg; he was the one who thought of the rationale behind it first after I identified the Colby-Tina alliance. And when Jerri did go next? Ahh, wasn't that a great day?   Remove | Alert Edit | Reply | Reply With Quote | Top

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