Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"Alright, listen up. My name's PC Principal, and welcome to the world premiere of PC does Survivor!"

PC Principal spreads his hefty arms to a view of… the Colorado desert. All that can be seen are stretching dunes and grasslands, interspersed with straggled shrubs, along with three enormous boards, concealing the contestants from view.

"In this season," PC Principal says, beginning to pace. "Twenty Four unfortunate South Park teenagers have been selected to compete for the grand prize, tickets to see the only artist desperate enough to feature in this competition, R. Kelly. They've been split into three teams, who will battle it out in challenges, with the losers voting off a member of their team until just one person remains: the sole survivor. So, allow me to introduce the teams."

One of the boards falls down. PC Principal adjusts his PC sunglasses, stepping back to admire the contestants.

"Here we have Team 1, featuring the one and only Eric Cartman—"

"This was not fucking consensual, PC gaywad!"

"Butters Stotch—"

"W-Well, howdy!" Butters says, knocking his fists together. "It's great to meet y'all!"

"Red McArthur—"

"Are we seriously competing in the desert? This is a violation of several moral boundaries."

"Tweak Tweek—"

"G-Gah!" he screams. "I-I don't wanna be on TV!"

"David Rodriguez—"

"This is possibly the worst thing to ever happen to me."

"Bebe Stevens—"

"Agreed, I think I'd rather be back in Garrison's classroom."

"Kevin Stoley—"

"I for one welcome this concept." Kevin flashes a smile. "It finally gives me a chance to be relevant."

"And last and almost certainly least, Sophie Gray, who has diabetes."

"I'm not quite sure how I'm supposed to manage my condition in the desert… but I'll try."

"You are Team Humans," PC Principal declares. "You will live together, compete together, and most importantly, learn to respect the minorities among you, okay?"

Confessional: Eric Cartman (Terrible Influence)

"I'm not respecting any minoritahs. But P.C. Principal had me by the nuts with those fucking R. Kelly tickets, like a minor in a sex trafficking ring. I'll do anything to win."

Confessional: Bebe Stevens (Dick Magnet)

"For the record, being here wasn't optional. We all sort of woke up here, and now there's no escape. But hey, R. Kelly might've met the Kardashians by now. I need those connections!"

"And onto Team Two, the Drow Elves," PC Principal says. "Featuring Kyle Broflovski—"

"Are you going to make every single one of us say some stupid intro line!?"

"Stan Marsh—"

"Dude, calm down. You just have to use it wisely — oh, fucking hell."

"Jimmy Valmer—"

"H-Hello, every-everybody! I-I sure hope th-that we don't d-die out here."

"Heidi Turner—"

"I hope so too…" She smiles. "Good luck everybody."

"Craig Tucker—"

"Anything else could be happening right now." Craig looks dead at the camera. "We could be making our dreams come true. But no, we're fighting for cheap tabloid fame and tickets to a concert held in prison."

"Henrietta Biggle—"

"It could be worse, at least R. Kelly wasn't some conformist. Unlike the rest of you. Can't we host this contest indoors?"

"Nathan… surname undetermined—"

"Why hello there, everybody," he says. "Such a pleasure… to be competing with you all."

"And of course, from hell itself, Damien Thorn!"

Everyone gasps, their conversations falling short. Damien just stands in the middle of his team, shrugging.

"Uhm, didn't he die?" Stan says.

"Actually, he didn't," PC Principal says, stepping forward. "I'll have you know he comes from Hell, a very marginalised place, mister. So hold your tongue!"

"Okay," Stan mutters. "Your loss when we all get fucking killed."

Confessional: Heidi Turner (Ex-Cartman)

"So, I might not be on such good terms with a lot of people here. Getting over the whole Cartman situation has been hard, but I suppose I should take this as an opportunity." She sighs. "Here goes…"

Confessional: Craig Tucker (Stoic Asshole)

"I might kill myself. Just to imbalance the numbers and piss off PC Principal. But I suppose I'm easily replaceable, given Mr Slave could fill the fucking homosexual quota."

"And at long last, we have our final team," PC Principal says. "The Peasants."

Bebe sticks up her hand. "Isn't that offensive to the working class?"

"Not when the name is ironic! Since our first contestant is Tolkien Black—"

"Well, at least you spelt my name right."

"Followed by Kenny McCormick—"

"Mfff Mff Mm—" Tolkien throws down Kenny's hood, and Kenny blinks, blond hair strewn in all its glory. "I meant, this show is really fucking gay."

"Wendy Testaburger—"

"I'll have you know that kidnapping twenty four people and forcing them to compete for a criminal's concert tickets is against the law! I'll be telling the police about this… as soon as you tell me where we are."

"Nichole Daniels—"

"What a great team we have. No doubt we'll win every single challenge."

"Clyde Donovan—"

"I… want to go home. I don't like the desert!" He looks tearful, hastily blinking back his eyes. "I mean… yeah. I'm cool with all of this. Team Peasants all the way."

"Next — LESLIE MEYERS, SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!"

The crowd all gasps again, their conversations falling short.

"D-Didn't th-that bitch d-die?" Jimmy asks.

"Special case," PC Principal says. "It turns out, she survived. Even though I was the one to kill her, but that's besides the point. Next up is Dog Poo Petulski—"

"…"

"And lastly, the final contestant of this season… Kyle's mom."

The crowd gasps. Kyle staggers.

"WHAT?"

"I had to fill a gap, bubbeleh!" Sheila smiles around at the other, much younger contestants. "Besides, who else will make sure you brush your hair and clean your teeth? You needn't worry, Kyle."

Confessional: Tolkien Black (Abnormally Rich)

"Eh, I'll go along with this. But only because I feel like, in some other universe, I hosted something similar."

Confessional: Leslie Meyers (?)

"This will be fun. This will be so much fun." She smiles. "I cannot wait."

Confessional: Dog Poo Petulski (Dog Poo)

"…"

"So, all twenty-four of you will have a chance to win these coveted tickets," PC Principal says. "But they won't come easy, least of all because of the extreme risk of death. For now, split off into your teams — there are three campsites designated 'specially for you — and mingle. The first contest will happen at sundown, approximately 4 hours from now. Hurry up!"

And, as if by magic, the contestants disappear from the desert and into their sprawling campsites, with nothing to help them but the clothes on their backs.

Usually, the intro would play here. Instead, have a cheaply put together list of the teams, for your referential needs.

**Humans: Kevin, Butters, Cartman, Tweak, Red, Bebe, David, Sophie**

**Drow Elves: Jimmy, Stan, Kyle, Craig, Heidi, Henrietta, Damien, Nathan**

**Peasants: Dog Poo, Kenny, Clyde, Tolkien, Wendy, Nichole, Sheila, Leslie**

Afternoon One: Team Humans

The sun glares over the ridges of sand, casting its rays upon a dotted sprawl of canvas tents and a hefty pile of wood. Yellow banners surround the campsite, where eight contestants in yellow bandannas are absent-mindedly standing around, trying to understand what the fuck is going on.

"So, I say we get out of this hellscape as quickly as possible," Bebe says. She looks rather pretty in the golden sunlight, and Kevin has almost certainly noticed, grinning in the background. "PC Principal has no right to make us compete in this — reality show."

"Where are the cameras, anyway?" Red folds her arms, which are already, mysteriously, covered in sand. "All we have are a load of people writing in notebooks."

Cartman sighs. "That's because this is being broadcast as a book, dumbass. Now, I for one, think we should elect a leader. Who should almost certainly be me, since you all are…" He narrows his eyes. "Flawed."

"Flawed!?" Tweek shrieks.

Cartman sighs, sitting himself down on the nearest log that the cast have so kindly provided. "You've got lots to learn, spaz. Out here, everyone is flawed. We've been put here by some… force, and I'll find out who it is, and make them fucking pay! But until then, assholes, we need to win these challenges. Because God knows what happens to eliminated contestants."

Confessional: Eric Cartman (Asshole Pariah)

"Alright, yes, I'm being nice. Sure, Eric Cartman doesn't do nice. But I know these assholes would just looove to vote off a threat as big as me, and I want those goddamn tickets!"

Butters smiles, his sunshiney expression sure to melt even the coldest hearts. "W-Well, if we're all stuck here together, how 'bout we try and get along a little?"

Except Red's. "Look Butters, don't think we've forgotten your whole… 'Weiners Out' thing. We may be stuck together, but that doesn't mean we have to get along."

"Agreed," Bebe says, though she doesn't look quite as vicious as Red. "How about we split up for now, try to set up camp? Kevin, Eric and David, could you make sure all the tents are safe? I wouldn't be surprised if PC Principal rigged them with explosives, or something. Butters and Tweak—"

"GAH!"

"Could you find us some food? I'm pretty sure we have to fend for ourselves out here. And us girls will make, uh… aesthetical improvements to the camp."

Everyone splits off to do their tasks, Eric Cartman with a very wide and forced smile on his face.

"Alright then," Bebe says quietly to the girls, any leadership façade fading fast. "I really think we ought to set up some kind of alliance. With fucking Cartman and fucking Butters on our team? We're sure to lose every single challenge, so we need to vote together to keep ourselves safe."

"Agreed," Red says forcefully, but Sophie doesn't look so sure.

Confessional: Sophie Gray (Beyond Diabetic)

"Bebe suggested an alliance. That sounds nice, but I'd rather we all get along than decide we're doomed already… I don't know."

"Where's that guy, Scott Malkinson, anyway?" Sophie asks. "Almost everyone else from our elementary classes is here. For some reason."

"Didn't you hear?" Red scoffs. "He got arrested for shooting up a mall."

"What!?"

"The plight of the diabetic," Bebe says, mournfully drawing pretty shapes in the sand. "His blood sugar got so low that he went insane and killed everyone. It was kind of crazy."

Confessional: Sophie Gray (Persecuted Diabetic)

"Well, fuck."

Meanwhile…

Cartman seems twitchy as he, Kevin and David check the tents.

"David—"

"It's pronounced Da-veed," David says. "Are you gonna be an asshole again? Because if you are, I'm pretty sure those girls are planning to vote you out. It wouldn't take much to vote with them."

"Gah - they're what!?" Cartman stamps his foot. "I mean, uh. Oh! No worries." His smile becomes very forced. "I'll grind those assholes to a pulp — fuck!"

"You know, you usually seem more composed than this," Kevin says.

"Oh really?" Cartman rounds on him, and he's actually shaking with the effort to stay calm. "Well, you usually seem more like a fag! Except — wait, hold on, I need to make a fucking confessional right now."

Confessional: Eric Cartman (Slightly Unhinged)

"I've figured it out. Of course, it was under my nose all along. Fucking Kahl is here, RIGHT HERE! But if the Jews think they can make money off me by putting me on their gay reality show? They can think again!"

Cartman drops his pants, pointing his bare ass at the producers.

"Uh." Kevin stops. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"They can't broadcast this!" Cartman crows, wiggling his flabby cheeks. "They'll be banned from television! Take this, PC Principal!"

"It's not on camera," David says. "Censorship laws don't apply. The show's writers are at liberty to describe everything they've just seen."

It's true, we are. But we prefer not to scar our readers.

"Well, fuck," Cartman says, putting his crusty behind away. "It was worth a fucking try."

Meanwhile…

"Hey, Tweak!" Butters chirps. "Isn't it just swell that we're on a team together?

Tweak gives a short, shrill scream.

"Oh, hamburgers…" Butters knocks his fists together. "You don't seem too swell."

"I-I'm not!" Tweak yelps, speaking properly for the first time in a while. "D-Don't you know what could be here? And who put us here!? It's - It's terrifying! Gah!"

Confessional: Tweak Tweek (Paranoid Screamer)

"Where am I!? What's this booth!? I've got nothing to confess, I - I promise!"

"Well, it ain't all bad," Butters says. "My dad's gonna ground my deviant ass when I get back, so I'll be stayin' here as long as I can. Hey… I know whatcha need! Eric says you're all faggy with Craig, right?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"Well, maybe he can cheer you up! I'm sure he's missin' you sorely, over there…"

Drow Elves, Afternoon One

Confessional: Craig Tucker (Closeted Cynic)

"Well, this is all about as shit as it could possibly be. My team's got Eric Cartman's ex girlfriend, a goth, butt buddies Stan and Kyle, and two people too crippled to partake in physical challenges. The only person who's actually okay is the literal son of Satan."

"So, that's how I came back," Damien says. "Some — buffoon — performed a ritual in his front garden."

"Buffoon," Craig repeats.

"Yes! That's uh, how we speak in Hell. You know."

"Well," says a voice from behind them. "That is most interesting. Certainly, most interesting."

It's Nathan. Without his sidekick, he looks more confident than ever, stepping forward to join the pair. Craig rolls his eyes.

"At last, we're out of view of the others…" Nathan drawls. In the background, Stan and Kyle are clambering into a tent, while Henrietta smokes on a rock and Jimmy hits at a pile of wood. "I think, and this may be a mere theory… that we could go far in this game, yes, we could."

"You actually give a shit about this," Craig says. "I think I'm disappointed in you."

Confessional: Nathan (Handicapable Tactician)

"I most certainly do care… when I win those tickets, I'll scalp them for millions… millions!"

"Well… what would you say to an… alliance, of sorts?" Nathan asks, ignoring Craig's remark.

"I would say no, fuck off," Craig says, and he walks away, middle finger outstretched. Damien, on the other hand, looks interested.

Meanwhile, in their tent, Stan and Kyle are muttering in low whispers.

"Dude. We're screwed. They'll target us for sure, I mean, they already think we're—" Kyle falls short. Stan raises an eyebrow.

"Think we're what?"

"Think we're in some sort of alliance. This whole thing is fucked, dude. My freaking mom is here!"

"Yeah," Stan says, and he has the nerve to laugh a little bit, which seems to annoy Kyle immensely, for some reason.

Confessional: Kyle Broflovski (Hormonal Jew)

"Let me get this straight, I do not want to be here. I have no interest in R. Kelly. And who the fuck is writing these captions!? Change mine, now!"

Confessional: Kyle Broflovski (Uptight Dick)

"Well, I suppose that's better. Thanks."

"Dude, look," Stan says. "Maybe we shouldn't think so seriously about this. And I know that's rich coming from me, but this is hardly the worst thing to happen to us."

"That doesn't make it any better. Look, I'm just going to go outside." Kyle stands, all too abruptly. "If we're to survive this place, I think we'd better get to work. Join me if you're ready, dude."

Kyle marches from the tent rather fast, past Jimmy, who sighs, looking over the campsite. The tents are few and far between, with bright red banners connoting their team colour in the background. There doesn't appear to be much to do.

Kyle passes Heidi, and the two exchange a sort of awkward eye contact. Heidi adjusts her bandanna a little, looking at him, but Kyle appears focused solely on the wood.

Confessional: Jimmy Valmer (Failed Comedian)

"W-W-Well, there's certainly s-some tension in this team. I-I suppose it wouldn't hurt t-to…" His smile becomes devilish. "M-Make that worse."

"H-H-Hey, Heidi," Jimmy says. "F-Fancy exploring the area?"

"Oh, sure," Heidi says, smiling. "That sounds lovely."

The pair venture from the camp, past Henrietta, who blows smoke into both of their faces. For a moment, Heidi's face becomes a little bit longing, but the moment is fleeting, and Jimmy certainly doesn't seem to notice it.

Beyond the tents doesn't appear to be much, just a sea of sand and occasional green. There's a funny sort of loneliness to it, despite the eight contestants at base camp, and a little bit of uncertainty comes with it. What if there is no competition? What if PC Principal never comes back?

"How are we supposed to find water?" Heidi asks. "I'm parched."

"W-Well, here's a little trick from the - the special Olympics," Jimmy says, and he bashes one of his crutches into the nearest succulent. Inside, there's a small channel where some sort of fluid has gathered. Heidi looks into it with uncertainty.

"We're supposed to drink that?"

"Y-Yeah!" Jimmy takes the half of the succulent on his crutch, and tips it into his mouth. He swallows it, forcing back a grimace. "S-Sweet."

"Or," Heidi says, laughing. "We could try that oasis, over there."

She points toward a pool, and Jimmy facepalms.

By the pool is a sign; This is your water supply for the season. It will replenish indefinitely, but you will need to find food — or win it — of your own accord…

"W-Well," Jimmy says. "H-Here we go, then."

They drink.

Once satisfied, Jimmy sits by the side, and Heidi joins him. From here, the campsite looks a lot smaller, and most importantly, there's no chance of being heard.

"S-So," Jimmy begins. "W-What do you think of all this?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Heidi gazes at the sand. "I mean, I'd rather be at home. You just woke up here, right? The same as me?"

"Y-Yeah," Jimmy says.

"I just don't know what to do. I've distanced myself from these people for so long, and now I've been thrown back with them. It's taken me eight years to lose all that weight, I wonder if they even recognise me?"

"Y-Yeah," Jimmy says again.

Confessional: Jimmy Valmer (Social Butterfly)

"W-Well, this is going q-quite well. I th-thought I was comin' out here to be a-all - all tactical, but no." He smiles. "Turns out, this bitch is pretty - pretty hot."

"Sorry to pour this all on you," Heidi says. "I just, think we're gonna need people we can trust in this place. And you're the only one who isn't some asshole, or someone I've already made a mess with."

"S-Sure thing," says Jimmy, and he gives his cheesiest smile.

Back at camp, Stan is busy clambering from his tent, but he hesitates by the entrance, studying the way that Kyle gathers from the woodpile, snapping the smaller twigs into kindling.

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Passive Cynic)

"This is gonna be rough, dude. I'm in deep. I'm in fucking deep."

Peasants, Afternoon One

In the Peasants camp, bordered by green banners and tents, everything seems a whole lot more orderly.

Wendy and Nichole carry piles of wood towards a roaring fire, while Tolkien and Clyde use makeshift wooden axes to chop the logs. Sheila oversees all of this, wagging her finger at anyone who she feels is going too slow, like some sort of factory line manager.

Confessional: Sheila Broflovski (Kyle's Mom)

"As expected, I got them all in line pretty fast. A little reason never goes amiss, now and then! And as a Jersey girl, well, ahah. Survival is second nature."

"We're in the desert," Clyde says as he swings his axe, sending chunks of wood splintering over the sandy floor. "Why do we even need fire?"

"Because it'll get awful cold at night, young man!" Sheila puts her hands on her hips. "Besides, we'll need to cook our food, when that Kenny boy finishes catching it."

Behind her, Kenny is wrestling with a rattlesnake in the dirt. The snake lunges, Kenny gives a muffled yelp, but he swings to the side, and the snake gets a mouthful of sand. Turning fast, Kenny leaps on it, to a hiss, and a dive toward his side—

Wham!

"You're welcome," Nichole says, placing her plank of wood upon the now-dead snake's back. "How much meat do you think we'll get from this thing?"

"Not enough!" Sheila says. "Kenny, back to work!"

"Mmmmmph!"

Confessional: Clyde Donovan (Chronic Crybaby)

"My mom always used to shout, just like her… it's like she's back with us." He sniffles.

Confessional: Tolkien Black (Token Black)

"So, Sheila thinks she's got everything under control. I'll let her think that. Chances are, it'll all fall down around her by episode four. Thank you dearly, Kyle, for having such an eliminatable mom."

Wendy looks out at Leslie, who's watching everything with a sort of mournful expression. "Aren't you going to join us? We're breaking our backs out here, you know. We could really use the help!"

"Well," Leslie says. She sounds vague. "I think you are right. I'll enjoy helping."

She walks towards Kenny, who's battling yet another snake, but she fails to notice the pile of wood just in the way. She clatters into it and falls to the floor.

"Oh, goodness!" Nichole and Wendy hurry toward her at the same time, jostling each other to reach her first. "Are you okay?"

Leslie sits up. "I-I think so… wow, I suddenly feel a whole lot better." She smiles. "Is it Saturday? I love Saturdays. It's so great to be here, battling alongside my friends!"

Nichole and Wendy exchange a glance.

"Maybe rest up a little," Wendy says, just as Nichole says, "Perhaps you should sit out for now."

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Perpetual Complainer)

"I'm foreseeing a little bit of… tension, in this team. That Leslie girl is incredibly weird, and Nichole keeps speaking over me. I'd quit this game right now, but PC Principal has trapped me. If I leave, it means everyone beats me, and that simply cannot happen."

With Leslie deposited in a tent to recover, work on the woodpile resumes until the fire is roaring in earnest. Sheila waves her team over, rather delighted with herself.

"I told you it'd be no trouble! Ay, I bet no other team has a fire yet. Hm, aren't we supposed to have another team member?"

Tolkien counts. "There are six of us, that Leslie girl is ill… who's missing?"

"Oh, wait." Nichole's expression sours, and she marches toward the nearest tent. "I think I know who."

She pulls it open. Inside is Dog Poo, sort of just sitting there.

"Excuse me, but uh, what are you doing?"

"…"

"Hello?" Wendy butts in from the side. "You know, we're all trapped here together. If you need something, you can let me know."

Nichole frowns, perhaps perturbed at Wendy's niceness. "She's right. We're here for you. Now, why don't you tell us what's wrong?"

"…"

"Don't you know?" Tolkien's voice comes from behind the tent. The crowd gathering over Dog Poo has grown quite large. "He doesn't speak, except for one time when Stan and Kyle were replacing Kenny."

"Mmmph?"

"You were dead at the time," Tolkien says. "My condolences."

"Does that mean he doesn't want to speak, or he can't?" Clyde asks, looking a little worriedly at Dog Poo's form. "Is he doomed to live life in the background? That's so sad!"

"Yes, it really is," Wendy says, laying a hand on Dog Poo's shoulder.

"It really, really is," Nichole says, laying a hand on his other side.

"No, it really, really, really is—"

"Wendy, please—"

"Both of you—"

"Mmmph!"

"Gah!" Dog Poo cries, and everyone jolts back with alarm.

"You talk," Clyde says. "You're real!"

"Yes, of course I'm real, dimwit." Dog Poo shakes himself away from the girls either side of him. "I'm just following the rules of reality shows. So long as I'm not mean to anyone, or I do anything remotely consequential, nobody will vote me off. But, darn, you made me speak to you."

"Well, how about this," Sheila says, her vast form towering over everybody. "You help us out, and there ain't no need for anyone to get voted off. Okay?"

"…"

"Okay?!"

"Gah! Yes!" Dog Poo says, and Sheila appears, at least somewhat, satisfied.

"Alright, that's enough time spent getting to know each other," PC Principal says, stepping out from behind a tree. "It's time for the first challenge."

Everyone gasps.

Challenge time!

Far, far away from the campsites, surrounded by a small lake, there is a raised, circular platform, about ten metres in radius and ten feet above the water. The twenty-four contestants are upon it, wearing their coloured bandannas, yellow for Team Humans, red for Team Drow Elves, and green for Team Peasants.

"Wait," Clyde says. "How did we get here so fast?"

"That doesn't matter, shut your fucking mouth!" PC Principal stands at the edge of the lake with a megaphone, looking out at the platform. "Here, we have the first challenge. The twenty-four of you are standing over a lake, on a rather precarious platform. Your goal is to stay on the platform for as long as possible, and the team whose members all fall from the platform first will be up for elimination. All violence is especially allowed… any questions?"

"Yes, several," Wendy says. "What if we get horribly injured?"

"Then you'll have to grin and bear it. Begin!"

"Right, Peasants, we need a strategy!" Sheila says, but she's interrupted by Butters, who flings himself at her, sending them both tumbling into the lake below.

"Alright!" Kyle cheers.

"Quick," Bebe says. "Everyone, get away from the edges!"

But the other teams have the same idea, and as all the contestants rush toward the centre of the platform, scuffles break out. Cartman bashes anyone and everyone aside with his flab, leaving them vulnerable. He immediately pushes Heidi off the edge, who yelps as she lands with a splash, but then Wendy appears, immersing him in battle…

"Watch out!" Stan cries as Jimmy is thrown off behind him, crutches and all. "Drow Elves, keep fighting!"

Craig stands in the middle of the melée as everything rages around him. Tweak scuffles with Nichole, actually trying to chomp on her arm, and Craig sighs. "I really, really hate this."

Cartman finally throws Wendy aside and off the edge, but the forces of the Peasants advance on him; Kenny leaps…

"No, that's a bad Kinny!" Cartman cries, as he's struck in the stomach, and Clyde and Tolkien rush over to assist. "No, no, no!"

The splash Cartman makes as he falls is phenomenal, and enough to soak anyone unfortunate enough to be near the edge. But that's distraction enough for Tweak to overcome Nichole, who tumbles into the water…

"Five Peasants remain!" PC Principal announces. "Six Humans, and Six Drow Elves!"

Nathan tries to move closer to the centre, but his handicap handicaps him, and he's quickly buffeted toward the edge. But Damien is there to help him, and he recovers, gasping.

"Use your powers from Hell!" Kyle cries at Damien. "Send them all off!"

"Uh, I would, but - but… they don't work in water!"

"What!?"

Nearby, Henrietta falls, landing very gracefully in the water. Tolkien performs an impressive slide tackle to send Sophie and Red into the depths simultaneously, and Clyde cheers him on behind him.

"Humans, we need a better strategy," Kevin says. "Get out your lightsabers; let's duel as a team!"

But it's only he, David, Bebe and Tweak left, and they find themselves near the edge, all while the other two teams battle for the centre. Stan and Kyle make a run for the Humans, but Tweak gives a shriek and they stop short.

"L-Leslie said y-you guys are fags!"

"What." Kyle turns to face Leslie, who's standing near the edge of the water. "She'll pay!"

But Stan keeps coming, and Tweak yelps as he's shoved over the edge (with Stan apologising profusely). Yet, Craig appears from nowhere, sending Stan as the next one to topple into the lake.

"Craig!" Kyle says. "We're supposed to attack the other teams!"

"It was a personal matter," Craig says dismissively, but in his distraction, he doesn't notice Bebe, who swings a neat right fist into his chest, sending him toppling.

"Only three Drow Elves left!" PC Principal shouts. "Three Humans, and five - no, four Peasants!" he says, as Kyle finally shoves Leslie off the side.

The Peasants gather themselves fast, Kenny assembling himself, Tolkien, Clyde and Dog Poo into a diamond formation. Damien and Nathan scramble as close to the centre as they can in the background, but Bebe comes for them…

"Bebe!" Clyde cries suddenly, and she stops, looking up and glaring at him.

"Not now, Clyde."

"But—"

"Not. Now!"

And while the Peasants are distracted, Kevin makes a run for Kenny; the two are swiftly immersed in a locked battle of strength, each trying to force the other into the water. Damien runs for Bebe with a cackle, but he trips, tumbling over the edge and into the blue…

"Two Drow Elves left!" PC Principal cries. "Can they hold on?"

"Yes, asshole!" Kyle says as he pummels David over the side, Kevin knocking off Kenny in the background. "Nathan, was it? Play defensive! We don't need to win, we just need to survive!"

"But if we lose," Nathan drawls. "I see an opportunity… would you vote Jimmy with me?"

"That doesn't matter right now! Just stay on the platform — gah!" Kyle ducks Kevin's sudden lunge, but the momentum sends Kevin over the edge, and Kyle slips too, clinging on by his fingertips, hanging above the looming lake…

"Take this!" Bebe says, shoving Clyde off the edge, who was busy watching.

"Stan," Kyle mutters. "Please catch me."

He falls.

"Just one Drow Elf left!" PC Principal crows. "Two Humans, and two Peasants!"

"Well," Nathan drawls to Tolkien. "What would you say to some sort of… alliance?"

"Absolutely not," Tolkien says, but Nathan reacts fast, kicking him in the nuts, and it's an easy push off the edge.

"Come on!" Nathan cries. "Who… wants a piece of me?"

"I do," Bebe says, and she runs toward him.

It almost seems to happen in slow motion. Nathan grins, ready to sidestep out of the way, but he finds himself blocked by something foul, someone who almost has literal stink lines emanating from his body.

Dog Poo.

"Well, nuts," Nathan says, and as Bebe collides with him, sending him hurling into the depths below, he sticks out his middle finger.

"And the Drow Elves lose!" PC Principal exclaims. "Bebe and Dog Poo win it for their teams. Congratulations!"

On the bank, the Drow Elves shiver as PC Principal looks upon them, all of his teeth showing like some sort of cruel predator. The other teams look significantly happier with themselves, with Sheila giving a knowing wag of her finger, and Cartman nursing his bruised ego.

"Drow Elves, you lost this challenge," PC Principal says. "That means you'll be heading to the PC Assembly later on, and voting out one of your team members. You'll have time to discuss plans, and they'd better not involve voting out any minorities based solely on their physical limitations, okay!?"

"We're not allowed to vote for minorities?" Craig says. "That's not equality, that's just retarded."

"Did you just use the word retarded!? An offensive and frankly troglodytic term!? You're lucky I don't eliminate you here and now!"

"Alright, alright, everyone calm down," Stan says. "Can we just go back to our camps?"

Back at Camp…

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Former Jock)

"I'm not entirely sure how we lost that challenge. Other than, quite possibly, Craig pushing me off the edge!"

Kyle wrings out his ushanka, hanging it by the fire he failed to get started earlier. Stan comes up beside him, placing his bobble hat beside it.

"Dude. It has to be Craig tonight, doesn't it? He literally pushed me off the edge."

"I don't know, dude." Kyle looks vexed. "I still think everyone's gonna come for us. Craig might not, if we convince him."

"Are you fucking kidding me? He's still pissed about Peru, dude. He'd send us away right now, if he wanted."

"Well, fuck!" Kyle sits on a log, head in his hands. "I don't want to go this early."

"Wait, why not? I thought you hated this."

"Yeah, but everyone I know is here, dude. All these people we've not seen in so long. Tolkien, he lives in Florida now, remember? And imagine losing to my mom. That's just wrong."

"I'm not sure everyone being here is so great," Stan says. "Damien is the literal son of Satan, remember?"

"Hmm." Kyle looks up. "Now, that's an idea…"

Meanwhile, Heidi and Jimmy are sitting together in a tent. Nathan unfurls the flap, sidling in to join them. The space is rather limited.

"O-O-Oh," Jimmy says, narrowing his eyes. "I-It's you."

"Jim," Nathan says easily, sitting himself down. "So nice… to meet you again."

"W-What do you want?"

"I have… a proposition for you. Both of you, if you like…" He nods toward Heidi, who looks a little uncertain. "We want to advance far in this game… yes?"

"W-W-What the f-fuck is your point?" Jimmy demands.

"Jimmy, Jimmy!" Nathan sighs. "I'm… on your side, don't you see…? Crippled kids should stick together…"

"Y-You told me you hated me, m-more than anyone - anyone else in the world. T-T-To my face."

"That was eight years ago… surely, you do not hold a grudge…?"

"I-I do, ass - asshole!"

"Jimmy," Heidi says, sounding a little afraid of everything that's transpiring. "Why don't we listen to what he has to say?"

"F-Fine," Jimmy relents. "W-What is it?"

"Well, this game… it's all about the numbers, is it not? I propose… we get rid of Craig tonight… make our lives a little easier."

"He did push Stan into a lake," Heidi admits.

"Good… good…" Nathan backs out of the tent again. "Give it some thought… would you?"

Confessional: Nathan (Shark Bait)

"Of course, I do have a backup plan…" He flicks a lighter from his pocket. "The death of another contestant… it would stir things up, for sure… but if I'm to finally beat Jimmy… he can't see it coming. Ahah!"

A little way away, Henrietta is on her last cigarette, already burning down to its last embers. She sighs, tossing away the stub, beginning to suck on her thumb.

"Hey," Stan says.

"Ah!" She spits out her thumb. "Uh, hey. I mean, whatever."

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Unwise Philanthropist)

"I've always felt a little bad for the goths. I mean, they took me in all those years ago. They're like wounded animals, so sad all the time…"

"Kyle and I are voting Damien tonight," Stan says. "He's the literal son of Satan."

"So? I don't give a fuck. Maybe he'll at least be interesting. Unlike you."

"Dude, chill. I was just saying. Uh, you're not voting for me, right?"

Henrietta rolls her eyes. "No. Why do you care about any of this? We're trapped in the middle of the fucking desert. We've got bigger, like, problems."

"Kyle cares about it," Stan says. "I think he wants to beat his mom."

"Ha." Henrietta scoffs, standing. "Good luck with fucking — with that. I'm going to lie down for a bit. Maybe I'll wake up, and all of this will be gone."

She leaves.

Confessional: Henrietta Biggle (Not Emo)

"Okay, I don't mind Stan. He's a conformist, and he's really fucking boring, but at least he's like. Nice. I guess. Not that I'll tell him that shit."

"Y-You can't trust Nathan," Jimmy says, back in the tent with Heidi. "H-He's been raped by a shark, t-twice. O-Only - Only retards get raped by sharks."

"Ew. But I've known guys who seemed nice, and it turns out, they were the sharks all along." Heidi looks down. "So, you know. I get it."

"F-For sure."

"It's just how guys are, I think." Heidi leans back against the floor, looking up at the tent's roof. "Human nature is a terrible thing."

"I-It's not your f-fault," Jimmy says.

"I know. And it's not yours either, Jimmy, but it's just who you are. It's in your nature. We're not compatible."

Jimmy freezes, his mouth hanging open. "M-Me? W-What?"

"You're a guy. I know, you're doing a great job pretending to be all nice, but you'll snap me up in a few episodes time. I don't hold it against you, it's just how you were born."

She exits the tent, leaving Jimmy shaking his head.

"W-What a b-bitch."

By the wood, Kyle is back to rubbing two sticks together, trying to start some sort of fire again. Stan approaches him, shrugging. "I tried, dude. She said she doesn't give a fuck."

"Then there's nothing for it except espionage," Kyle declares. "Look, Craig and Damien are talking. I'll listen."

Kyle meanders over to behind the wood pile, just out of sight of the pair, but very much in earshot. Shucking his coat and ducking, he listens hard.

"…I know, they're all assholes." Craig's decidedly nasal tone. "My priority is getting the fuck out of here, though. You can play the game if you want."

"Playing the game is the only way to get out of here," Damien says. "PC Principal would, uh… probably lock eliminated contestants up. Not that I'd know, of course. It's just a fact: if we want to keep trying to escape, you've got to keep playing."

"We? If you don't want to be here, why don't you just go back to hell?"

Damien makes a sort of non-committal noise. Kyle can imagine him shrugging. "Playing games is fun. After this lot bested me last time, hah. I could do with a little revenge."

"Which is why you decided to offer me advice. Nice plan, asshole."

"Well — fuck you, then. Who are we voting?"

Stan hitches his breath.

"The player who does the most damage to our chances of staying in." Craig drops his voice to a whisper, almost certainly saying a name… but Kyle doesn't hear it. He curses himself, looking back over at Stan, who appears to be talking to Nathan.

"What the fuck," he mutters to himself, heading over.

"Kyle," Stan says immediately. "Nathan says we need to vote for Jimmy to stay safe."

"Indeed, indeed," Nathan says. "He is, how you say… targeting you, tonight."

"And I couldn't figure out who Craig and his pet demon are voting for." Kyle sighs. "You know what, fuck it. If it'll keep us safe, I guess we can vote for Jimmy."

"Excellent," Nathan drawls. "I'll tell Henrietta…"

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Mere Follower)

"I'm not convinced by this Nathan guy, but Kyle's in, so. Whatever keeps us safe."

Confessional: Nathan (Surnameless Asshole)

"Eheh… And everything falls into place."

Confessional: Craig Tucker (Reasonless Asshole)

"Much as I hate to admit it, someone other than me is right. I need to stay in the game to get out of here. So, I hope me pushing Stan off the platform — righteously — doesn't have, uh, lasting consequences."

Confessional: Heidi Turner (Character Regressor)

"My head is a mess. Once again, I've pushed everyone away. This PC Assembly is gonna be hell."

The PC Assembly area is, truthfully, quite pretty. A series of red velvet chairs are lined up on one side of the area, with a bowl of PC Sunglasses in the center. It's all very obviously inside a marquee, with the canvas walls rippling in the desert breeze, but an assortment of tapestries of iconic South Park buildings make the room almost feel homely.

"Alright, listen up," PC Principal says, his voice crackling from the handheld amplifier by his side. "This is the PC Assembly area, where you will undergo a Team Counsel session to discuss the tribe, the elimination, and the game. After the discussion, you will vote anonymously behind the wall of virtue signalling assholes." He nods toward a brick wall, which is covered in popular brand logos that have been tackily emblazoned with rainbows. "Anyone who is safe will receive today's prize, your very own pair of PC Sunglasses. But the player with the most votes will be eliminated, and they can't come back. Ever."

"Hm hmm," Nathan says, apparently pleased by this.

PC Principal continues, "So, to ask you a few questions in the Team Counsel is my dear assistant, Mr Mackey."

"Oh, Team Counsel." Henrietta rolls her eyes. "I get it. It's shit, but I get it."

"Yes — m'kay, here I am — yes…" Mr Mackey appears, sitting in front of the contestants. "I encourage you to open up, to let it all out, before casting your votes, m'kay?"

Stan and Kyle glance at each other. Craig sticks up his middle finger, though he seems to be enjoying the comfort of the velvet chairs.

"So, my first question is for Nathan, m'kay. How did it feel to lose to Dog Poo, who did literally nothing for the entire challenge?"

"Not great, Mr Mackey…" Nathan hangs his head, at least, as much as he can. "It was a very disappointing performance… I will do better next time, I think."

"And who, Kyle," Mr Mackey says, "Do you think is responsible for the failure of the challenge as a whole?"

"Well, we all have to take some responsibility," Kyle replies. "Henrietta fell off without anyone even pushing her, I lost a lot of physical duels, and Craig decided to push Stan off the edge."

"He pushed off Tweak," Craig says flatly.

"Yeah, because he's on the other team, dude!"

"He's afraid of heights."

"Tweak's afraid of everything!"

"Damien," Mr Mackey says. "Do you think Craig should be held responsible for this incident?"

"Perhaps," Damien says. "But you were all dreadful, today! And how are we going to win if we keep fighting?"

"Aren't you like, from hell?" Henrietta asks. "I'm a big fan."

"Why, thank you. Your fandom of my powers has been noted."

"Powers which you could've used to win us the challenge," Kyle says. "Why didn't you?"

"Because, uh, they don't work when I'm covered in water. Now, stop questioning me, or I'll tell my dad."

"Henrietta," Mr Mackey says, turning to her. She's still absent-mindedly looking at the floor. "How will you vote tonight?"

"Oh, I don't give a fuck about voting," she says. "I'll just vote whoever I've been told to vote. I'm not going to conform."

"M'kay," Mr Mackey says. "And who've you been told to vote?"

"Eh, these assholes have been throwing each other under the bus all fucking day. It does my head in. Craig hates Kyle's guts, Stan's after the son of Satan, Nathan's after Jimmy and Kyle, et-cet-era."

"M-Me?" Jimmy speaks for the first time in a while. "I-I knew y-you were an a-asshole, Nathan! Y-You were going after Kyle!"

"What?" Kyle squawks. "Me? Nathan told me he was voting for you!"

"M'kay, settle down," Mr Mackey says, a little discomforted by all of the disputes. "Nathan, it sounds like you've been a little bit naughty. Care to explain?"

"Well," Nathan begins. "You… have it wrong, I think. Tonight, I am voting for… Jim."

Everyone gasps.

"Y-You asshole," Jimmy says.

"I haven't forgotten…" Nathan says. "You beat me at Lake Tardicaca… I won't let it happen again!"

"That doesn't explain why Henrietta thinks you're going for me, too," Kyle snaps.

"Oh, erm… she must be lying!"

"Heidi," Mr Mackey interrupts. Heidi jumps, perhaps alarmed to be spoken to. "How much does bonding with people matter in this game?"

"It matters a lot, I think," Heidi says, with a nervous look at Jimmy. "But I think, here, people pretend to be someone they're not, in order to win favour with others."

"Yeah," Kyle agrees, still glaring at Nathan.

"Yes, m'kay… and, Heidi, what would you say to someone unsure about their vote tonight?"

Her expression hardens. "Follow your heart. Whether it's the son of Satan, the person who literally sabotaged the team, or someone else entirely… it's up to you. But stick to your principals, all of you. I know I sure will."

"Unless those principals include bigotry," PC Principal says, appearing. "Now, it's time for democracy to conquer all. It's time… to cast your votes!"

Silence falls, though the expressions of most contestants are just as loud. One by one, they disappear behind the wall of virtue signalling assholes, coming out of the other side and sitting back down. Almost everyone looks at least a little nervous, except Henrietta, who starts filing her nails.

"I have counted the votes," PC Principal says. "If I read your name, you are safe, and you will win a pair of PC sunglasses, which may help you in one way or another. If you have the most votes, you will be eliminated, but rest assured you will be treated with respect."

"Real reassuring," Craig says.

"First safe, with zero votes…" PC Principal lifts a pair of sunglasses. "Heidi Turner."

"Oh, thanks!" She catches them, putting on. "Wow, these make everyone look the same colour. And Jimmy, your legs, are they fixed?"

"Next safe, Henrietta Biggle, also with zero votes. Isn't it great to see so many strong women in this team?"

"Lame." She catches her sunglasses. "Good work me, I guess."

"And the final person to receive zero votes… is Kyle Broflovski."

"What?" He looks surprised as he catches his sunglasses. "Uh, thanks, I think. Nice!"

"Wait, someone voted for me?" Stan frowns. "Craig, you asshole!"

"You pushed Tweak," Craig says, shrugging. "Besides, you and Broflovski are like, a double vote."

"Oh, trust you to get all tactical now—"

"Listen up!" PC Principal says. "Now, everyone else received at least one vote. But somehow, despite being the son of datan, Damien Thorne received just one."

"One is bad enough," Damien grumbles, but he takes the sunglasses anyway.

"Also with only one vote… Jimmy Valmer."

"N-Nice," Jimmy says, catching the shades.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?" Stan says. "Did I - did I not know about something? Shit!"

"Only three people remain, but two pairs of sunglasses…" PC Principal leers, baring his teeth. Nathan looks nervous for the first time, but it's second to Stan, who's practically freaking out at this point. Craig just sticks up his middle finger.

"Safe, with two votes…" PC Principal flings the sunglasses. "…Stan Marsh."

"Thank God!" He catches them, shoving them onto his face, before muttering, "Shit, two?"

"Now," PC Principal says. He sounds sinister. "It's between Craig, who literally sabotaged his team, and Nathan. A cripple, and a member of the LGBTQ+ community. I might've known… Do you boys have anything to say?"

"Yeah. If you voted me, you're an asshole," Craig says, though Damien elbows him. "I mean, uh. If I survive, I'll take the game more seriously, or whatever."

"I have… no comment," Nathan says, back to his sleazy self again. "The votes shall… speak volumes, I think."

"Indeed they shall," PC Principal says, raising that final pair of sunglasses. "As, eliminated with three votes against them, the first player leaving PC Does Survivor is…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

"Nathan."

Craig exhales. "Fuck. Thank God."

"Craig," PC Principal says, tossing him the sunglasses. "Safe, with only one vote."

"But - But… no! This cannot be!" Nathan stands, looking madly between his team. "I cannot lose… how can I have lost?"

"Too many lies, dude," Kyle says, smug. "You played the game too hard, too early."

"You'll regret this! I'm… I'm a good player… I'll come back! That's right, Jimmy, I'll beat you one day… one day!"

"Nathan," PC Principal says. "It's time to go."

He claps his hands, and the floor opens — Nathan yelps as he tumbles into the black abyss, before the floor covers him up again, leaving no evidence he was ever there at all.

"Dude!?" Stan exclaims. "What the fuck was that?"

"Elimination," PC Principal says broadly. "Now, dear readers, I'll see you again shortly, for when another team will fail horrendously, and another player will be voted out… in PC Does Survivor!"

Voting: Behind the scenes

Lit in red, the contestants come one-by-one behind the Wall of Virtue Signaling to cast their votes.

Stan Marsh: "I guess I'll stick with the original plan. Damien, you're the son of fucking Satan. Having you around is dangerous."

Kyle Broflovski: "My vote is for Nathan. Dude, you've tried to play everyone on day one. Not fucking cool."

Craig Tucker: "I need to survive to get the fuck out of here, and Stan and Kyle will vote with each other every fucking round. Between the two, Kyle's the biggest asshole, but Stan pushed Tweak into the water, so I choose him."

Damien Thorn: "Craig's right, Stan is a big threat. Plus, he was a dick to me ten years ago."

Henrietta Biggle: "I like, don't care about any of this shit, but I don't like being gaslit by some conformist. I vote Nathan."

Heidi Turner: "Craig pushed one of our teammates off the platform. It's fairest to vote for him, I think."

Nathan: "Time up, Jimmy… you'll regret beating me at camp! Ahah - Ahahaha!"

Jimmy Valmer: "Y-You think y-you can bring me down and take my girl? Y-You've got another thing coming, re-retard!"

(Jimmy - Nathan

Kyle - Nathan

Stan - Damien

Henrietta - Nathan

Craig - Stan

Damien - Stan

Heidi - Craig

Nathan - Jimmy)

Immersed in darkness, Nathan opens his eyes. For a second, he thinks he sees a shark fin and screams, but nothing comes of it. Then, out of nowhere, there's a flash of red, a bright light, and nothing more.

Tune in next time! Throughout the season, there may be some opportunities for audience participation, so look out! :)

Chapter Text

Chapter Two

Contestants Remaining

**Humans: Kevin, Butters, Cartman, Tweak, Red, Bebe, David, Sophie**

**Drow Elves: Jimmy, Stan, Kyle, Craig, Heidi, Henrietta, Damien,* *

**Peasants: Dog Poo, Kenny, Clyde, Tolkien, Wendy, Nichole, Sheila, Leslie**

When the Drow Elves get back to camp, the mood is surprisingly good.

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Chronic Underthinker)

"I don't know what just happened, or how I got those two votes, but I'm accepting it. Nathan wasn't much of a team player, anyway."

"T-That was a mess," Jimmy says. "O-Oh well. Goodnight, bit-bitches."

"Goodnight," Kyle says. "I'm pooped."

Confessional: Henrietta Biggle (Reasonably Concerned)

"Didn't anyone else see, like, the ground swallowing him up? I mean, the guy was a douche, but come on. He could be like, dead."

"Oh, and before you ask, Marsh," Craig says, opening his tent. "Those votes were entirely personal. Goodnight."

"Hey!" Kyle exclaims, but Craig is already gone, rolled inside the tent's vast mouth. Sighing, Kyle follows Stan into a different tent, zipping the flap shut behind him. Everyone else appears to have resigned themselves to sleeping alone, but it seems that Super Best Friends get special privileges with that sort of thing. So long as the feet don't touch, of course.

Confessional: Craig Tucker (Absent Boyfriend)

"Alright, I'll admit it. I may not have played this one well. Despite my genius plan to only gather one other vote, the butt buddies remain. I suppose I'll actually have to try, or something. Also, can't these captions be a bit more fucking consistent?"

Confessional: Craig Tucker (Unnecessarily Rude)

"…Why the fuck do I bother."

Meanwhile, on Team Humans…

"It's going to be a cold night without fire," David says miserably. "Cartman barely tried to light it."

"Well, I could've tried harder," Cartman says. "But that would've required being in your presence for more than three minutes, which is, frankly, fucking unbearable."

"You both could've lit it," Bebe scolds. "Look, I'll show you how it's done."

Immediately, she grabs two sticks. No sooner have they touched, it seems, than the flames are beginning to roar.

"Witch!" Cartman bellows, pointing. "There's a fucking witch on our team!"

Confessional: Bebe Stevens (Possible Magician)

"Wait until he sees me catch a snake, or build a shelter. Seriously. The sooner we get rid of Eric Cartman? The better."

Unfortunately, the wind chooses that moment to billow like a maniac, sending a buffet of sand to immediately quench the fire.

"See, witch?" Cartman says. "God didn't like that!"

But God mustn't like any of Team Humans, because the wind picks up even more speed over the next few minutes, practically forcing them into their tents. Cartman has to go alone for size-related reasons, but Butters wriggles into a tent alongside Tweak, apparently deciding that the two are close enough friends for that now.

"Hey, fella," Butters says, as Tweak tries frantically to avoid any skin-to-skin contact with him. "It's real dark and stormy out there, ain't it?"

"Y-Yeah!" Tweak squawks. "Gah!"

"That's why I'm gonna keep you nice an' safe, 'cause I know that's what Craig would want." Butters beams childishly. "Now, what would he do for you? Kiss you like - like his goshdarn whore? Sing you a lullaby? I know one, lululu, I have some apples, or well, actually I don't have any—"

"Sh-Shut up!" Tweak exclaims. "P-Please."

"Aw, hamburgers," Butters says. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just, I'm awful scared of storms, actually."

"I-I just want to sleep," Tweak says. "Is that too much to ask?"

Butters falls quiet at that, looking up at the roof of the tent. The tents aren't spacious, but Butters and Tweak are both small enough that there's a gap between them. Outside, the wind howls louder than ever, harassing the unfortunate contestants in its grasp. Tweak shivers a little, pressing into what limited covers the crew have provided.

"Y-You know what?" Butters says eventually. "Why I lie in my bed at home, sometimes I get this weird ol' funny feeling in my stomach, that tells me no, Butters! You're gonna die, Butters, nobody will ever love you, Butters! And I lie there and I get all sad about it, but I ain't feeling that way right now."

Tweak covers his face with his hands, and silently, he screams.

***

Morning breaks with hot rays of sunshine flying over the distant dunes and into the radiant camp of Team Peasants. The green banners shine around them, competing for brightness with the hot tongues of fire still blazing on their woodpile. Sheila Broflovski is the first to emerge, stretching and smiling.

Confessional: Sheila Broflovski (Ex-Jersian)

"Well! What a lovely day to be competing. I sure hope my bubbeleh slept well on his little team." She pulls out a little box from her pocket. "I packed him his little toothbrush and everything… I must give it to him in the next challenge!"

Nichole is the next to emerge. She looks exhausted, but there's a sort of deep-set determination in her jaw that may not have been there yesterday.

Confessional: Nichole Daniels (Lacking Personality)

"I think the game's really starting to begin now. And everyone's starting to see it for what it is, a competition, and not something we need to escape from. So, I suppose it's time to get serious..."

Tolkien emerges from a nearby tent, turning away as soon as he sees her.

Confessional: Nichole Daniels (Reasonably Disgruntled)

"…But there's something I'm going to have to deal with first."

She walks over to Tolkien, who looks a little surprised. Under Sheila's watchful eye, Nichole sits him down by the fire.

"So," Nichole says. "It's uh, been a while."

"Uh, yeah," Tolkien says. "It has, huh."

"But, well, I've been thinking. We're stuck together in this place. And we're gonna have a lot of time to just — be here. So, I thought I'd break the ice."

"There's a lot of ice to break," Tolkien says.

"Well, yes." Nichole winces. "But there's no harm in trying to get along again."

"Are you trying to get me to vote someone out?" Tolkien asks, completely deadpan. "Because I've seen these shows. It's all about the numbers."

"What? No! Look, this isn't about playing the game. I just don't want there to be any tension between us while we're stuck here."

"I see," Tolkien says, still deadpan.

"And I'm sorry for what happened, okay?" Nichole sounds a little desperate. "I don't want to be enemies."

"Neither do I," Tolkien says. "But we haven't spoken for eight years. You broke up with me eight years ago."

"Yes, but that was this whole thing, you know? All the girls left their boyfriends, it was a sign of unity—"

"But you didn't try to explain it then. You just left. That note hurt me. It hurt me deep."

"Tolkien, please." Nichole winces again. "It was girls versus boys back then. I didn't have a choice, it was the only thing I could do. It was for a good reason — or, it seemed like it at the time."

"But then you didn't speak to me for the rest of school," Tolkien says. "Now, we're here, and suddenly, you want to be friends again? There's always been a cause, when it comes to us. You want to break up, because we're the only two black people in town, and everyone will think that's why we're together? Okay. You want to break up because it's girls versus boys, and you chose your side? Okay. But now, suddenly, it benefits your cause for us to be together, so here you are. Talking to me again."

"I don't want us to be together," Nichole says. "I just don't want us to hate each other."

"I don't hate anyone," Tolkien says. "I only hate people's actions. And I really, really hated yours."

There's a pause.

"I'm sorry," Nichole says. "I only want to be friends."

"I got over what happened," Tolkien replies, standing. "But I got over you, too. I won't vote for you, if that's what you're worried about. But if you're serious about us being friends, find me after this competition is over. Find me when it's not convenient for you."

He leaves. Nichole sighs, deciding better than to follow.

Confessional: Nichole Daniels (Bad Wordsmith)

"I forgot how well he can talk. God, I want to be so mad at him! But I'm not. I kind of… respect it."

Sheila springs up from behind a bush, narrowing her eyes at where Tolkien once sat.

Confessional: Sheila Broflovski (Doomed Leader?)

"Oi, this team is falling apart! These boys and girls with all their silly fights… it reminds me of my Kyle and his little friend, Stan! How they'd argue, sometimes..."

Nearby, Kenny crawls from his tent, beside which a pile of dead rattlesnakes has begun to form, along with a poorly carved wooden knife.

"Aha!" Sheila says. "Kenny, can you get back to getting the meat from those snakes? I'm starting to get really hungry, you know!"

"Mmmmph!"

"Yeah, I'm getting hungry too," Wendy says, appearing. "How could PC Principal do this do us? Why aren't we doing something about it?"

"I agree," Clyde says, his voice somehow even more disgustingly nasal after just waking up. "We should try to run away."

"Or, we could refuse to compete in the next challenge," Wendy says. "If we all do nothing, then it'll make for a terrible show — er, book."

"Are you sure?" Nichole frowns. "We'll just be sent to the PC Assembly and made to vote each other out."

"Well, I think it's worth a try. If we're as boring as possible, the ratings will be low, and PC Principal will cancel the season! Hear that, writers?" She points at the crew members, dotted all around the tents. They don't appear to have moved since the previous day. "I'm not going to do anything remotely interesting, so you'll have nothing to write about!"

She storms back into her tent.

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Boring Bitch)

"It's a great plan, I think. And if Nichole ruins it — wait, how did I end up in this confessional!? I'm not giving you any more content!"

Confessional: Dog Poo Petuski (Dog Poo)

"I see Wendy is also following the laws of reality shows. By not doing or saying anything remotely consequential, she'll be safe from terrible things happening to her. Not that I'd know, of course."

"Well, the temper on that one!" Sheila says. "Lucky thing that you're so quiet, Leslie. If only this team could be more like you."

"Yes," Leslie says. "I wish everyone could be like me too…"

Meanwhile, on Team Drow Elves, Henrietta is the first one awake, though she's out of cigarettes to smoke. Instead, she just sits on her log, looking out at the horizon. The wind's settled down a little now, though the team still doesn't have fire whatsoever.

Confessional: Henrietta Biggle (Not Emo)

"Last night's PC Assembly was so terrible. It was just, so boring. Except for Nathan disappearing into the ground. That was, like… dark."

Damien is next to emerge, and for once, Henrietta takes the chance to speak.

"I didn't think demons slept, asshole."

Damien jumps, having not noticed her. "Ah!? I mean, oh, yes. Of course. The son of Satan still needs sleep when… above land."

"Right, yes. Of course." She rolls her eyes. "Lame."

"Why," Damien says. "Do you not sleep?"

"Of course I sleep, loser. This fucking mortal body requires it. But I sleep during the day, I'm a freaking goth. What do you expect?"

"For you to be crying and pissing your panties about how sad you are? Or worshiping demons and sons of Satan?"

"I do not piss my panties!" Henrietta stands. "Besides, those are emos, not fucking goths. And I'm a fan of Hell, not you, just so we can clear that up from yesterday."

"Whatever," Damien says. "I suppose Hell is quite cool. Well, hot."

Stan emerges from his nearby tent, Kyle in tow, both of them looking a little bedraggled. Henrietta rolls her eyes again.

"And here come the conformists. Do they have to be so — gross and sunshiney? Demon boy, light this for me." She holds out a stick like a cigarette.

"That is a stick," Damien says.

"I don't give a shit. Use your fire powers, or something."

"Well—"

"Good morning!" Kyle says, joining their midst. "I decided last night that it's time to get to know everyone a little better. How are you today, Damien?"

Confessional: Kyle Broflovski (Protective Friend)

"Actually, last night, I decided that Craig needs to pay for targeting Stan. So, I decided to get on everyone's good side before Craig can. Then, we'll be the ones to vote him out!"

"I am grand," Damien says. "But you shouldn't put on such a façade. Nathan got voted out for playing the game too hard."

Kyle recoils. "Is that a threat?"

"Consider it a light one," Damien says. "Given I've threatened to send you to hell in the past."

Confessional: Kyle Broflovski (Protective Friend)

"Why do my plans never work!?"

"Dude, all he meant to say is hi," Stan says, coming up beside Kyle. "Kyle's just worried about the game."

"Oh, so you're talking for me now? I'm not worried about the fucking game."

"Calm down, Broflovski," Craig drawls from a nearby tent. "You're disgracing the gay community."

"I'm not disgracing anyone! Stan!"

"Dude, Kyle, calm down." Stan says. Kyle glares, and Stan backtracks. "Uh, I mean, Craig, shut the fuck up. He's not gay."

"Sure. Okay," Craig says, disappearing back into his tent.

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Probably Gay)

"Like Craig's an expert on who's gay and who's not. Who does he think he is, the gay police? Uh, that was a terrible joke. Can we cut that…?"

Once we've written something down, we can't cut it out.

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Definitely Gay)

He pinches his brow. "I hate this."

"Actually bros, I'll tell you what we'll be cutting," PC Principal says, appearing from behind a tent.

"What?"

"Your wages. It has come to my attention that reality show contestants are supposed to be "paid"? But all of you are privileged enough already. So, unless you're a part of an ethnic or social minority, you won't be receiving a nickel!"

"D-D-Damn," Jimmy says. "I-I really wanted that - that nickel."

"Until then," PC Principal says, "We're gathering in the challenge area for a mandatory meeting. Come with me. Or else!"

Like lightning, the teams assemble in the challenge area. Team Humans appear mostly buffeted from the storm, with Tweek looking especially worn down. Of the three teams, the Peasants seem the most put-together still, their green bandannas on their heads, and Dog Poo and Wendy standing blankly behind everyone else.

"Alright, listen up," PC Principal says. "Apparently, it's immoral to leave you bros without food and water for several days, so I'm proud to open a new Whole Foods store, right here in the desert."

PC Principal draws back a curtain, behind which there is a gleaming curtain of paradise. Organic food tumbles out of crates, fresh fruit and vegetables shining bright and colourful. Workers smile and wave from the windows, wearing happy to help! badges.

"Seriously," Cartman says. "A hippie store. Here."

"You got a fuckin' problem with that, bro?" PC Principal demands. "You got a fuckin' problem with an ethical way of shopping that supports the local community and the farmers that work so hard for your fuckin' food?"

"Alright," Cartman mutters. "Keep your fuckin' tampon in."

"Anyway," PC Principal says. "Only challenge-winning teams will be able to access this heavenly place. But, because some of you bros are really terrible at challenges, each team gets $50 to spend right away."

"Alright!" Kevin cheers as the money falls down from the roof.

"So, what are you waiting for? Go, go!"

The teams hurtle into the store. Team Drow Elves immediately target the bakery aisle, while Cartman drags the Humans towards the snacks.

"We should really go for the tins," Nichole tells the Peasants as they enter in a much more orderly fashion. "They'll last for ages, and besides, they're cheap."

"But I wanted pastries," Clyde whines. "I really like pastries."

"And we need to keep Kosher," Sheila says. "None of that nasty tinned pork, oy."

"Mmmph," Kenny says. He's looking down at the $50 like it's the most money he's seen in his life.

"What do you think, Wendy?" Tolkien asks, and Wendy's eye twitches.

"Don't talk to me, Tolkien. I'm busy being entirely uninteresting for the writers."

Confessional: Tolkien Black (More Interesting)

"Jeez, I only asked. This strategy of hers? It's going to make us lose."

"Well, I need to see my Kyle, and give him his toothbrush," Sheila declares. "You children shop responsibly, alright?"

"Of course," Nichole says, as Sheila hurries away. But when Nichole turns to the shopping basket, she sees that Kenny's filled it up with gourmet cat food.

"Dude," Clyde says.

"Mmmph!"

"That's pretty gross, man," Tolkien says. "I'm going to put it back."

"Actually bros," PC Principal says. "Once you've put something in your basket, you can't return it, because it might be covered with the germs that doubtlessly inhabit your campsite."

"What!?"

While PC Principal and Team Peasants begin debating ferociously, Cartman has reached the snack aisle.

"Oooh… I'll have some cheesy poofs, some donuts, some choco twisties…"

"Eric!" Red says. "We have a limited budget, please try not to be an asshole. How do you not have a disease from all that shit?"

"Ey, I'm not fat! I just appreciate good food. Not my fault you chicks all have fucking eating disorders."

"No, we just don't want to get diabetes," Sophie says awkwardly. "Wouldn't want to pull a Scott Malkinson! Aha, ha…"

Confessional: Sophie Gray (Secretly Diabetic)

"God, I can't eat half the shit Eric's putting in our basket. But I can't speak up, or Bebe will think I'm going to shoot up a mall. This is so unfair."

"Oooh, Eric," Butters says, as Cartman tips double chocolate cookies into the basket. "Those are my favourites…"

"Hands off, they're mine! But," Cartman says, his eyes lighting up a little. "If you're good, they could be yours as well…"

"Well… they do look awful tasty," Butters says, but he's interrupted by Red grabbing the basket.

"Don't let that asshole manipulate you," she says. "Come on, team. Let's get some proper food."

Cartman turns. "Excuse me!?"

"Food that won't give us diabetes," she clarifies. "Come on."

As she marches them away, Kevin and David bring up the rear of their group, muttering to each other.

"Here's the deal," Kevin says. "I'll have Bebe, and then you can choose between Sophie and Red."

David blinks. "What."

"Seriously. I've been-there-done-that with Red, and she's entirely your type, man. It'd be perfect."

Confessional: Kevin Stoley (Background Character)

"Okay, I may have a hidden agenda. But only because Bebe is hot. Like, really, really hot. I'd give her my lightsaber, for sure." He grins.

"I'm… not here to date," David says. "I'd rather just get out of here."

"Pff, not here to date? Dating just happens, man. And I'm telling you, it's happening right before your eyes. She's the one for you."

"Why don't you date her if she's so perfect?"

"David!" Kevin stops in his tracks. "I finished with her in fourth grade. Not cool. She's all yours, it's time to make your move."

Confessional: Kevin Stoley (Troubled Soul)

"I've had a hard life. My best friend, Bradley, flew into the sky. My other best friend, Jason, died on me. Red broke up with me eight years ago because of a protest. But chicks and video games have kept me going." He grins again. "Yeah."

The Drow Elves find themselves in the bakery aisle, with Heidi leading the proceedings for once.

"We should make healthy choices," she decides. "Does anyone have any dietary requirements? I'm… vegan, I should say."

"I'm supposed to keep Kosher," Kyle says, and Stan looks a little surprised.

"I - I only eat - eat sweet pussy," Jimmy says. Heidi glares. "I - I mean, uh. No."

"Let's just get this shit over with," Henrietta says. "I don't care what we fucking eat, so long as it's not rainbow coloured."

"Agreed," Stan says, but they're interrupted by a scream in the next aisle.

"ARE YOU TRYING TO POISON ME, WITCH?"

"I think that's Cartman," Kyle says.

"It sure sounds like him," Heidi sighs, and the two exchange a slightly surprised glance.

"Broccoli is good for you!" Bebe exclaims in the distance. "We need to eat well in case any physical challenges come up—"

"I'm not eating your fucking hippie food, witch!"

"You don't have to, but the rest of us want to—"

"The rest of you can shove it up your dry, fishy vaginas for all I care!"

"Alright, break it up!" PC Principal exclaims, wading into the scene, but he's followed by Team Peasants.

"It's not fair!" Clyde whines. "It's not our fault that Kenny's poor!"

"Mmmph!"

"Kyle, here's your toothbrush!" Sheila exclaims.

"Ack, mom!"

"PC Principal," Stan says.

"PC Principal—"

"PC Principal!"

"That's it!" PC Principal cries, whirling around to face them all. "The shopping trip is over, and the next challenge begins right fucking now! I am sick and tired of you complaining all the time, so I need a co-host to deal with it. The team who finds the worst one will go to the PC Assembly. You have one hour. Go!"

The cries of protest fall silent fast, the teams looking worriedly among themselves. Whole Foods workers take the shopping baskets away to be processed and paid for, while the contestants appear to have started panicking.

"Where the hell are we gonna find a cohost?" Nichole says. "Come on, we need to go outside!"

The Peasants hurry away, but the Drow Elves remain in the store.

"This is a dreadful challenge," Damien says. "So, we must take advantage of that with cunning and wit. Where might we find ourselves a co-host?"

"Well, PC Principal would probably like it to be a minority," Heidi reasons. "Does anyone know any minorities? Kyle?"

But Kyle seems distracted, looking down at the toothbrush his mom gave him.

Confessional: Kyle Broflovski (Mommy's Boy)

"I don't even have any toothpaste, why has she given me this? Nobody else needs their mom here to babysit them." He folds his arms. "Hmph!"

"Anyone else?" Heidi asks.

"Tolkien's parents are minorities," Craig says. "But I don't think extreme wealth is the minority we need."

"We could ask Tuong Lu Kim?" Kyle says, coming out of his stupor. "The City Wok guy?"

"No, dude," Stan sighs. "He was a white doctor with D.I.D, remember?"

"Oh yeah…"

The team falls silent, pondering. But suddenly, Stan brightens up. "I know a guy! Come on, I'm sure that sanctuary is around here somewhere…"

They hurry outside, and past Team Peasants, who are being led on a march by Nichole and Sheila.

"I think this should be simple," Nichole says. "PC Principal's used to dealing with noisy children, right? But only with his wife by his side. So, we need to bring her here."

"That's a great plan," Clyde says. "Except, South Park is several hundreds of miles away."

"Mmmph!"

"That's right, Kenny," Nichole says. "If we say a load of horribly offensive things, she'll come here to tell us off. So, channel your inner Eric Cartman, everyone."

"What, what, what?" Sheila cries. "That boy is a menace to my Kyle! And offensive language is barred for a reason!"

But Tolkien shrugs. "I think it's worth a try. I'll go first. Uh, I hate gay people, because they're just so — gay. And so — homosexual."

Confessional: Token Black (Raging Homophobe)

"This is harder than I thought. Every time I try to say something homophobic, this picture comes into my mind of Craig flipping me off. And then, he starts kissing my dad. It's weird, dude."

"And I hate black people," Nichole says. "They're just so — dark. And they eat so much chicken." She gives a sideways glance to Tolkien, but he looks straight ahead. For a moment, there's silence as the team watches the desert for any signs of Strong Woman.

"I've got an idea," Clyde says, and he pulls down Kenny's hood. "Do your thing, dude."

"I like girls with big fat titties!" he sings. "I like girls with deep vaginas!"

"Women are subservient to men," Leslie says flatly. "They are weak and spineless. They fold under pressure, just like delicate little flowers."

Again, the team peers into the desert, but there's no sign of anyone. A tumbleweed rolls by.

"Well, how awful!" Sheila says. "Now we're all condemned to several years in Hell. But I have a better plan, just you see." She pulls out her cellphone, dialling a number. Everyone's mouths fall open.

"Kyle's mom!" Wendy exclaims. "If you've had that this whole time, why not call for help?"

"Call for help? But why?"

"Because we're trapped on a reality show in the middle of the desert? Because we're being imprisoned against our wills!?"

"That's lovely dear, but please be quiet, I'm on the phone," Sheila says, dismissing Wendy with a wave of her hand. "Hello, Gerald, is that you?"

Distorted static rings out. Wendy huffs in the background, and Kenny tries placing a hand on her shoulder, but she pulls his parka back over his head with frustration.

"Yes, Gerald, Kyle is fine," Sheila says. "No, I don't need any more dye. Can you sue someone for me, love?"

There's more static.

"You can? Excellent." She hangs up the phone, turning back to her team. "Good news! My husband's gonna sue Strong Woman so hard that she has no choice but to come here to her husband."

"That doesn't sound very nice," Clyde says, but Sheila laughs.

"It's the way of marriage, dear! Some days your husband wants to piss all over you for sexual reasons, some days he has to save you from a drastic court summons. You'll understand one day. Now, all we have to do is wait."

Team Humans, meanwhile, are still arguing in the Whole Foods.

"I can't believe you wasted our money on broccoli, you son of a bitch!" Cartman shouts. "Screw you guys. I'm — seriously, screw you guys."

Red sighs. "Can we shut up about the shitty broccoli and focus on the challenge?"

"Agreed." Bebe folds her arms. "Our biggest problem is that there's literally nobody in a one hundred mile radius to be a co host. Does anyone know how to summon people?"

"W-Well…" Butters begins, knocking his fists together. "I - I sure know a way. But I don't really like it."

"It doesn't matter if you fucking like it," Red says coldly. "Just tell us what to do."

"O-Okay… does anyone have a mirror?"

Sophie hands him one. Butters looks into it, his bottom lip wobbling.

"Y-You better watch out," he says. "'Cause this dawg is nasty, y-yo. And he may just pop a smoke in our asses…"

"It doesn't matter," Bebe says. "If he's a worthwhile co-host, just summon him already."

Butters takes a deep breath. Tweek watches on, trembling. "Biggie Smalls," Butters whispers. "Biggie - Biggie Smalls. Biggie Smalls."

As if by magic, a rather large man appears, dressed in a long, black overcoat, with a hefty chain around his neck.

"What the fuck is this place?"

"Gah!" Tweak shrieks.

"Oh shit," Cartman says. "Well, enjoy dying, Butters. I'll be right over here."

But to everyone's surprise, Biggie Smalls doesn't whip out a glock and smoke their asses. Instead, he breathes a sigh of relief. "Yo, it's that kid."

"M-Mister Smalls?" Butters says timidly. "Dawg?"

"You scared me, foo." Biggie Smalls huffs. "Don't shit me like that. What d'ya need, hm?"

"Oh, come on!" Cartman says. "I thought I was gonna watch Butters get shot up."

"He still might be!" Biggie Smalls says, and Butters yelps.

"I'm awful sorry Mister Smalls! I know you must be real busy in Hell — b-burning in fire and smoking crackwhores — but - but we're in this s-show, and we need a co-host, and… we thought of you…" He trails off.

"Hell nah, motherfucka!" Biggie Smalls cries. "I've had enough of this goddamn show causing drama down in Hell. I ain't co-hosting, no motherfuckin' way."

"Wait, you're reading the show?" Kevin says. "Are my approval ratings high?"

"Everyone reads this show, foo. But who the hell are you, some production assistant? I ain't seen your ass before."

"Why always me," Kevin mutters.

"W-Well, gosh darn, I'm sorry to bother you then, dawg," Butters says to Biggie Smalls. "Y-You can go back to Hell, if you l-like."

"Back to hell?" Biggie Smalls laughs. "Nah dawg, I think ima stay here a while." He flips his glock. "It's crazy down there. Satan all mad, the demons talkin' shit…" He cocks the gun. "Besides, I've business with R. Kelly's nasty ass to take care of first. See you later, suckas."

He marches from the Whole Foods, leaving the team shellshocked, or in Kevin's case, doing nothing much of interest whatsoever.

Confessional: Eric Cartman (Not Shellshocked)

"If Biggie Smalls smokes R. Kelly's ass, I'm gonna fucking kill him! Again! I want that concert, and I want it now."

"Well, what next?" Bebe says.

Sophie sighs. "We're going to lose. There's nobody else around for miles."

"Not quite." David points to the end of the aisle, where a dark-haired man appears to be slumped over on the floor. "We've got one more chance…"

Meanwhile, in the middle of the desert…

"Dude," Kyle says. "Did I just see Biggie Smalls running past, holding a glock and shouting about killing R. Kelly?"

"Never mind that," Stan says. "We're here."

Team Drow Elves comes to a stop, their red bandannas billowing in the desert winds. Before them is a large building, with the words Big Gay Animal Sanctuary emblazoned on top.

"Oh, shit," Craig says.

"How did you know this was here?" Damien demands. "This desert is supposed to be — well — deserted."

Confessional: Damien Thorn (Dark Prince)

"I know everything about this desert. Satan knows everything about this desert! How can this place possibly be here?"

"I don't know," Stan says, shrugging. "I just had a feeling it would be."

"S-Sure," Jimmy says. "B-Because you're gay?"

But before Stan can snap back, a very tanned man appears from the sanctuary, wearing a pink, flowery shirt that only covers one nipple. He smiles, a cigarette in one hand, and a fresh lipstick mark on his cheek.

"Woah," Craig says. "Kyle, I'm about to do something I never thought I'd do. I'm apologising for calling you a disgrace to the gay community. This guy is clearly much worse."

"Shut the fuck up," Kyle says. "How are you, Big Gay Al?"

"I'm super, thanks for asking!" Big Gay Al giggles a little. "Stanley, it's been so long. How's your gay little dog, Sparky?"

"Oh, uh, he got hit by a car," Stan says. "But it's so great to see you. Big Gay Al. We're on this reality show, and the host is looking for a new co-host… would you be able to help us?"

"But of course! Where is this reality show?"

"Just over there." Stan points. "Come on."

They begin walking.

Confessional: Craig Tucker (Out-Homosexualed)

"The old me would've seen this guy as an asshole whose identity is tied entirely to stereotypical homosexual characteristics. Lame. But now I have to actually try in this game?" He shrugs a little. "I suppose this is an opportunity."

"Gee," Craig says. "It sure is strange how so many of us turned out gay."

"It sure is!" Big Gay Al says. "But I don't think it matters. I think love is beautiful, no matter who it's between."

"Indeed," Craig says. "But those gays, there was me and Tweek… and who were those other two? I wonder what their names were. If only they were right here with us."

"Craig," Big Gay Al chides. "If Kyle and Stan aren't ready to come out of the closet, you shouldn't make them."

Stan stops walking. "What."

"Oh, shut up," Kyle says. "We're not gay, asshole. We're just super best friends."

"Now, come on, Kyle." Big Gay Al says kindly. "I thought you learned to accept gay people. Or do we need to take a little boat ride?"

"I do accept gay people! I'm just not one of them, okay? And Stan dated Wendy, who's a girl, in case you hadn't noticed."

"That was years ago," Craig says. "And he puked all over her."

"Dude!"

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Vomit Farm)

"Dude. Seriously, fuck Craig. Fuck. Him."

Confessional: Heidi Turner (NewAge Philosopher)

"Hmm. If it's in a guy's nature to be a manipulative asshole who lies and cheats for personal gain, I wonder if that includes gay people?"

"Also, like, Stan and Kyle shared a tent last night," Henrietta supplies. "Bit fruity, if you like, ask me."

"Of course we shared a tent!" Kyle exclaims. "The literal son of Satan is on our team! It's not safe to be alone, especially when he has demonic powers."

"Oh, but Satan's a sweetheart," Big Gay Al says. "You just have to get to know the guy."

"Can we stop?" Stan says, pinching his brow. "We're here. Let's just — get our immunity and be done. Regardless of who is and isn't gay."

"Dude, seriously, I'm not gay," Kyle begins worriedly, but Stan sighs.

"I know, dude. It doesn't matter, okay?"

Confessional: Kyle Broflovski (Plausible Deniability)

"Stan's really worked up about this whole gay thing. Like, seriously. I don't know why it's such a big fucking deal. I'm not gay. I'm just — not, dude." He pauses for a moment, before burying his face in his hands. "Fuck. What if he hates me? Forever?"

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Implausible Deniability)

"Kyle's really worked up about this whole gay thing. I don't know why it's such a big deal to him, though. He's already told me he's not gay, several times." He pauses for a moment, "It's not like I'm gonna hate him. Forever."

Confessional: Craig Tucker (Plain Asshole)

"Bullseye."

While the Drow Elves deal with homosexuality, Sheila stands proud as Strong Woman comes hurrying up to the Peasants.

"I was told to meet him here! What's happening, what's this lawsuit about? And where's my husband?"

But Sheila pulls down her flaming red hair, narrowing her eyes. "Get. Her."

The Peasants spring into action. Kenny jumps onto Strong Woman's face, while Tolkien ties her up with Clyde's belt. Strong Woman cries out, but Nichole sweeps her legs out from under her, and she collapses to the floor. Nichole and Tolkien high five.

Confessional: Tolkien Black (Literal Kidnapper)

"Wow. I… actually miss working with Nichole on things. That felt good. Criminal, but good."

"This seems unethical," Clyde says worriedly, trying to hold up his now-beltless trousers. "I don't know if PC Principal will like this…"

"Never mind ethics," Sheila says. "We need to win the challenge! Come on, let's bring her to the Whole Foods."

Confessional: Leslie Meyers (?)

"They're learning. So… nice to see."

The team start dragging Strong Woman through the sand, ignoring her kicking and struggling, and they arrive at the Whole Foods just as the other teams gather with their candidates. But Wendy reaches into Sheila's pocket while she's distracted, swiping that mobile phone.

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Secret Markswoman)

"And now, I shall officially break my silence. One simple call to the police, and we'll be out of here in seconds. Take that, PC Principal!"

"Alright," PC Principal says. "Your time is up bros, so you'd better have found me three wonderful co-hosts. And they'd better lead to a diverse workforce, or you'll lose!"

"Knew it," Heidi mutters.

"Drow Elves. Who have you chosen?"

"It's me," Big Gay Al says fruitily, stepping forward. "Being the new co-host for your show would be so super!"

"I see. I respect your gayness, Big Gay Al. Thank you very much. Team Peasants?"

"Well, we decided we needed some uh — some gender equality," says Tolkien. "So, we brought a very strong woman, Strong Woman."

Sheila pushes Strong Woman forward. She's still tied by a belt and looks very bedraggled from her trip through the sand.

"My - My wife!" PC Principal exclaims. "What have you done?"

"Oi, you only said you wanted a co-host," Sheila says. "How we got her is not part of the challenge."

"And, H-Humans?" PC Principal says, adjusting his PC sunglasses and looking rather distraught. "Who have you brought?"

"Well," Bebe says, helping forward the man they found on the floor. "We've brought Stan's dad."

Stan pinches his brow. "Jesus Christ."

"Hey, Stan," Randy Marsh says. "Its true, I was in South Park, and then there was this thing, and I really needed some organic wholewheat flour, so I came here. But then there were giant tumbleweeds attacking me, and I needed a rest."

PC Principal blinks. "A straight, white, cisgender man."

"Yeah, but I'm PC," Randy says, waving him away. "Plus, me and Gerald jerked off in front of each other once, so I'm like, one percent gay. At least."

"Dude!" Stan and Kyle cry simultaneously.

"Well, okay. Alright, listen up," PC Principal says, looking around at all the teams. "I'm gonna summarise. And I don't want to hear any fuckin' talking, okay? Team Drow Elves win, and they get another trip to Whole Foods. Big Gay Al will join me as a co-host."

"Yay!" Big Gay Al claps.

"But Team Peasants," PC Principal says. "Despite the obvious and glaring need for more women in the workplace, you fucking kidnapped my wife! You dragged a strong woman through the sand, filed a lawsuit on her, and tied her up, all because you couldn't handle her strength! You are up for elimination, and I will be seeing you in the PC Assembly, where there will be punishment!"

"Wow," Nichole mutters. "I thought we did alright."

"Which means Randy Marsh would be my final co-host," PC Principal says, and Randy gives everyone a thumbs up. "But the ratings would go down without a female co-host, so we are instead being joined by popular singer-songwriter, Lorde."

"Killer," Randy says. "I mean. Aw, shucks."

PC Principal dismisses the contestants with a wave of his hand, leaving only him and Strong Woman behind.

"Strong Woman," PC Principal says, reddening significantly. "I did not know what they would do, I cannot believe this has happened in my workplace… but I do not know if I should help you, exerting my male privilege on you in the process…"

"Just get me home," Strong Woman croaks. "Please. And keep an eye on Tolkien's prejudices, I heard him say some quite disturbing things about gay people."

***

Team Peasants make it back to camp, where their campfire is still blazing, and the spoils of their Whole Foods purchase have already arrived: 25 tins of gourmet cat food.

Confessional: Clyde Donovan (Formerly Popular)

"I can't believe we lost. What's wrong with tying up a woman and presenting her to a man?"

Confessional: Kenny McCormick (Peasant Boy)

He pulls his hood down, revealing a Mysterion mask. "I'm not killing any more rattlesnakes. Kyle's mom is gonna pay."

Wendy tosses Sheila's mobile phone in her hand. "Good news, everyone. I'm going to phone the police and get us all out of here. There's no way PC Principal can send us to elimination if he's locked up in jail."

She goes off to use the phone, leaving the team behind her.

"Well," Sheila says. "That's very nice of her, but if we go to PC Assembly, one of us will be sent home! I think we should have a nice, grown-up discussion about who that should be." She sits down beside the fire. "Gather around, everyone."

They obey.

"So," Sheila says. "Does anyone have anything to say?"

Confessional: Clyde Donovan (Reasonably Irritated)

"I have a lot to say. Mostly that Kyle's mom is a bitch, and I hate her."

"I'll go first," Nichole says. "I think we should vote out Dog Poo."

Everyone turns to face him. Dog Poo gives a sort of noncommittal shrug, though he looks uncomfortable.

"We could," Clyde says. "He doesn't help out in challenges."

"Dog Poo, anything to say?" Sheila asks. Dog Poo only shrugs again; nobody sits anywhere near him on account of the literal green lines radiating from his body.

"He won us the first challenge, though," Tolkien says suddenly. "And at least he probably cares about winning. Wendy actively chose not to contribute."

Nichole frowns. "Wendy's clever. I think we might need her when she comes to our side."

"But when will that happen? Plus, she's dangerous. She could bully anyone into voting for us."

"What about Kenny?" Clyde asks, pointing. "He bought all that cat food, and now we're all going to be hungry..."

Kenny shrugs, giving a muffled noise that sounds like "idunno".

"Or Sheila," Tolkien says. "It was her idea to kidnap Strong Woman."

"What what what!?"

"Or how about Leslie?" Nichole says hastily. "It's not like she's done much so far."

"Wait." Sheila looks around, mellowing out almost immediately. "Where is that Leslie girl...?"

Behind a tent, Wendy opens up Sheila's mobile phone. As the passcode screen pops up, she jolts a little bit, but she presses the emergency contact button instead, her hands trembling. She begins to type the number, writing like her life depends on it. Brr. Whatever she was typing, she got it wrong. With a frustrated sigh, she begins again, but something grips her arm.

"Wendy." It's Leslie. "Whatever are you doing?"

Wendy impatiently tries to shake her off. "Calling the police, so we can get out of here. Could you go away, please?"

"Calling the police? I don't think you should do that."

"Well, sorry, but I want to leave." Wendy tries to move away, but Leslie grips a little tighter.

"Are you not listening? I don't think you should do that."

Wendy stiffens as though stabbed through the heart, the phone slipping slightly out of her grasp. She recovers, tightening her fingers around it, trying to continue typing. "You shouldn't be here, Leslie," she says. "We watched you die, PC Principal punched a hole through your face."

"You wonder too much about these things, Wendy." Leslie smiles. "You're such a curious girl."

"Well, pardon me! Just — let go of my arm, for goodness sake. Don't you want to get out of here? We're being held against our wills!"

But Leslie grips Wendy's arm tighter, and with one quick yank, she pulls it toward the ground. The phone slips from Wendy's grasp. Wendy gives a short "no!" but she's too slow; it tumbles into the desert sand.

"Oh dear," Leslie says simply. "Aren't you clumsy?"

"Let - Let go of me!" Wendy gasps. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because you're making too much trouble, Wendy." Leslie smiles. "Not talking, making yourself uninteresting. Trying to escape." She steps forward, and there's a brutal crunch as her shoe crushes the phone screen. "But uh oh. How unfortunate. It appears you're stuck here, with me. Forever."

"Guys!" Wendy cries. "Everyone, help! It's Leslie, she's gone mad!"

"They can't hear you," Leslie says. "They're too busy planning to vote you out. Oh no," she says, when Wendy's face falls. "Was that a surprise? But don't worry yourself too much. Play the game, Wendy, and you will be safe. Stop causing trouble, and you will be safe. Ask too many questions, and you may find yourself… eliminated."

Leslie lets go of her arm, and marches off, leaving Wendy phoneless, stunned, and without even the comfort of a plan.

Confessional: Sheila Broflovski (Jersey Milf)

"It is quite a tricky vote tonight! That Wendy was quite disruptive earlier, but Dog Poo has been most unhelpful around camp. I'll have to see what the others think."

"Oh, there she is," Sheila says as Leslie appears from behind a tent. "Leslie dear, we were just talking about the vote. Do you think it should be Wendy or Dog Poo?"

"Well," Leslie says stiffly. "I have… other concerns. But I'd prefer to speak in private."

Confessional: Nichole Daniels (Reasonably Concerned)

"Speak in private? I don't like the sound of that. In fact, that Leslie girl has been awfully strange so far…"

Wendy appears from behind the tent, putting on a front of extreme composure.

"Did you call the police?" Clyde asks. "Are they coming to save us?"

"Uh, no," Wendy says, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and looking sheepish. "Actually, PC Principal appeared and confiscated the phone. Sorry, everyone."

Confessional: Nichole Daniels (Reasonably Concerned)

"Wendy, apologising for something?" She narrows her eyes. "Something happened. I'm sure of it."

"So," Wendy continues. "Who are we voting for?"

"Oh, y'know," Sheila says, waving her hand. "Actually, I think we should split up and discuss things individually, don't you? Leslie, how about we gather some wood?"

"Absolutely," Leslie says, and the pair split off. Wendy sighs.

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Possibly Doomed)

"I need to find someone I can tell about this. That Leslie girl should be dead — and damn it, that was our only fucking chance of escape! I can't tell Sheila, she dotes on Leslie, for some reason. I can't tell Nichole, she'd be too annoying about it. But, Tolkien…" Her eyes light up. "That's my best shot."

Wendy calls Tolkien away, leaving Kenny, Clyde, Nichole and Dog Poo behind.

"Mmmph," Kenny says immediately. "Mmmph mmm mm m mmmph."

"I agree," Clyde says. "Kyle's mom is a bitch."

"Who, Sheila?" Nichole looks worried. "I don't know… she'd be angry if we targeted her."

"Mmmph!"

"Yes, she would be gone," Clyde muses. "I don't like having jobs…"

"But at least she does something, unlike Dog Poo," Nichole says. "Sorry, Dog Poo."

Dog Poo shrugs.

"We could vote for Wendy," Clyde says. "She's been so rude to us since we arrived."

"I… really don't think we should vote out Wendy tonight." Nichole looks apologetic. "Sorry. You can if you want, but I really think she'll be helpful in future."

Confessional: Clyde Donovan (Potential Crybaby)

"I… don't know who to vote for. So long as nobody votes for me! They wouldn't… would they? Oh God…" His lower lip wobbles.

"Tolkien," Wendy says, as soon as they're far enough away from the group. "I can't say why, but you have to vote for Leslie tonight. Get Clyde to do the same. It's our best shot at survival."

"Survival?" Tolkien looks worried. "She's going for you? Or me?"

"Mostly you," Wendy hisses. "But keep your voice down. She's been useless in challenges, but she's good with words. She'll have Sheila on side in seconds, and I think Nichole's pissed at you for earlier."

"She is? Shit."

"Indeed. And that's why you have to vote for Leslie," Wendy whispers. "Will you do it?"

"…I thought you didn't care about the game," Tolkien says cautiously. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I don't want to be eliminated! My escape plan failed, okay? Look, just vote for Leslie tonight. And don't tell her we had this conversation." She hurries away, leaving Tolkien quite bemused.

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Lying Deviant)

"If Leslie can play dirty? So can I. She's almost certainly going for me tonight, but I'm coming for that phone-stealing bitch. Nobody messes with the Testaburger and lives to tell the tale."

Confessional: Tolkien Black (Token Black)

"They're coming for me? I don't know why they would. Everything about this is just… weird, man."

"Well, Leslie," Sheila says, sitting her down behind the tents. "Who is it that you're worried about?"

"Oh, nobody," Leslie tells her. "I just… wanted to know if anyone else worried you."

"Well… not really, to be honest. That Kenny boy is trouble, and he bought all that cat food, but at least he's obedient. And Tolkien said my name, the cheek of it! But, ah, I suppose I did make some mistakes today."

"Is that all?" Leslie pushes.

"Yes, I think so… well, other than that fight I saw this morning."

"Do tell."

"Oh… it was nothing really, really none of my business…"

"Tell."

"Well… if you insist! It was just Nichole and Tolkien you see, having some sort of disagreement over their relationship, you know how kids are. You should see my Kyle sometimes, how he talks about his Stanley… ah, but Tolkien walked away in the end, and it left Nichole looking quite upset. Poor girl."

"That is very interesting," Leslie says. "Thank you for telling me."

Confessional: Sheila Broflovski (Passionate Matriarch)

"That Leslie girl sure is pushy! But curiosity is only natural, I think. She seems pleasant enough, otherwise."

Confessional: Leslie Meyers (Secret Girlboss)

She narrows her eyes. "Target. Acquired."

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Trying Hard)

"I'm worried for the PC Assembly tonight. But I'm going to play as convincingly as as possible, and hopefully, enough seeds have been sewn for Leslie to go home."

Confessional: Dog Poo Petuski (Dog Poo)

"…"

"Alright, listen up," PC Principal says in the PC Assembly area.

"Yeah, listen up," Lorde says, her moustache and wig looking better than ever, and her voice sounding suspiciously deep.

"Yass, listen up!" Big Gay Al adds.

"Because your team failed to respect women today, and most importantly, you failed to respect my lovely wife, you have been called here to the PC Assembly. Where I threatened punishment, and you shall receive it."

"Uh oh," Clyde says, sitting in the bright green chairs that represent The Peasants. Behind him, the Wall of Virtue Signalling has also been painted green, though the rainbow logos remain.

"First, however, it's time for your Team Counsel session with Mr. Mackey. Everyone, pay him your finest respects."

The Peasants give light applause as Mr Mackey comes out, dressed in a fresh green shirt and tie. He sits down, nervously looking at his clipboard.

"M-M'kay. So, you really upset PC Principal today, Team Peasants. Whose fault is that, Tolkien?"

"Well, if I'm honest," Tolkien says. "It's Sheila's."

"What what what!?"

He turns. "You called your husband to file a lawsuit against Strong Woman, and then ordered us to attack her. I think you hold some responsibility among all that."

"Well, young man!" Sheila puffs out her chest. "This behaviour is just unacceptable. No, it won't do! You'll see what happens if you play with that kind of fire, boy—"

"Mmmph!" Kenny interrupts, but Tolkien's busy looking worriedly at Wendy, who mouths, Leslie.

"Yes, Kenny, we all know Kyle's mom is a bitch, m'kay," Mr Mackey says. "But it's not nice to rub it in. Dog Poo, do you think it's important to play an active role in your team?"

He shrugs.

"…M'kay. And who will you be voting for tonight?"

"Oh, he'll vote whoever he's told to," Wendy says scathingly, and a lot of the team make noises of surprise.

"M…kay. Yes, very interesting." Mr Mackey makes a tiny note on his clipboard. "Wendy, what'll be informing your vote tonight, then?

"Honesty," Wendy says. "Sticking to my word, and beginning to play the game properly." She glances at Leslie, who gives a brief nod. "In my mind, one player is bringing down this team, and they need to go."

"Well," Mr Mackey says. "Clyde, do you think there's a consensus tonight?"

"Yes," Clyde says. "One contestant here is a bitch. I will say no more."

"Sheila," Mr Mackey says. "Do you think anyone here is a bitch?"

"Oh, I've seen quite a lot of unpleasant behaviour today!" Sheila says. "But one event has stuck in my mind, that's for sure. Yes, there are bitches here tonight."

"Kenny," Mr Mackey says, turning to him. His parka is firmly covering his face. "You earnt the team a lunch of cat food. Do you think that might bring you down today?"

"Mmmph," Kenny says, under Sheila's glare.

"That… is true," Mr Mackey says. "It was funny, but I'm not sure if your team feels the same. M'kay, Nichole." Mr Mackey checks his list of questions. "Do you feel safe tonight?"

"No," Nichole says, and there are some interested mutters. "But only because I don't think anyone can feel safe. I've tried my best to make amends with people today…" She looks across at Tolkien, who gives a slight smile back. "…But I can only hope the right person goes home tonight. I've said my piece to everyone. I can't do much more."

Wendy glares at her suspiciously, but Nichole sits back in her seat.

"And finally," Mr Mackey says. "Leslie. How important is team unity in this game?"

"So very important," Leslie says. "Any disharmony must be stamped out. If anyone in the team is starting arguments? They simply have to go."

"Nicely put. Now, m'kay… I believe it's time to vote."

One by one, the contestants make their way behind the Wall of Virtue Signalling. Dog Poo goes first for once, looking about as passive as one can look. Kenny goes next, his hood tightly closed, followed by Clyde, Leslie, Sheila, Tolkien, and Nichole. Wendy is last to go, and she still looks frightened as she comes out on the other side, sitting down next to Tolkien.

"Alright, I'm sick and tired of this," PC Principal says. "It's time for your punishment for beating up a fuckin' woman!"

Pigs' blood rains down suddenly from the roof, and the team yelps as they're drenched in the stuff, left stained red and shivering.

"Fuck you!" Wendy exclaims.

"I would not like to, as that would be a violation of consent," PC Principal says. "Now, it is time to read the votes. Big Gay Al, I would ask you to hand them over, but I don't want to demean you as a homosexual man…"

Big Gay Al hands them over anyway, leaving PC Principal spluttering.

PC Principal eventually continues, "if I read your name, you are safe, and you receive a towel to get rid of all that blood. If you have received the most votes, rest assured, you will be treated with respect."

Team Peasants shiver at the prospect.

"With zero votes," PC Principal says. "Wendy Testaburger. Well done. What a strong woman you must be."

He flings a towel at her, and she catches it, looking utterly bemused. "Uh, thanks? Zero? Are you sure? You didn't miscount?"

"I would never miscount a lady's votes," he says, as Wendy stares across at Leslie. "Next, with zero votes, Clyde Donovan." PC Principal tosses him the towel.

"Yes!" He catches it, immediately towelling the blood off himself. "Feels so good..."

"Then, Kenny McCormick also has zero votes, despite potentially poisoning his entire team. Well done, bro."

"Mmmph!" Kenny catches the towel, trying to dry himself off, though the parka (and the Mysterion mask that's reappeared beneath it) is stained with blood.

"And the final person with zero votes…" PC Principal flings the towel. "Nichole Daniels."

"Thank God," she says, catching it and wiping her face. "Thanks, guys. I really appreciate it."

PC Principal surveys the rest of the contestants, ignoring Wendy's suddenly-worried expression. Leslie and Dog Poo look as passive as ever. Tolkien looks fearful, his fingers crossed behind him. Sheila, on the other hand, looks absolutely livid.

"Who would vote for me!? How could you! After I led you so well?"

"And who votes for me?" Tolkien says. "What did I do wrong?"

"The next player only received one vote," P.C Principal. "Somehow… Dog Poo Petuski is safe."

Silently, Dog Poo catches the towel, and wipes his face, though it does little to save him from his stink.

"What the hell is going on?" Nichole says. "What the hell are these votes?"

"I don't know," Tolkien says with a worried look at her. "I don't know at all!"

"Next safe, with only two votes…" PC Principal holds up the towel, and Tolkien looks anxiously at it. "Leslie Meyers!"

"How lovely." She catches it, wiping the blood from her face, before giving Wendy a devilish glare.

"So," PC Principal says, looking at Tolkien, who's visibly terrified, and Sheila, whose arms are crossed. "Tolkien, if you're the second minority to be voted out in a row, I'm gonna be fuckin' disappointed in all of you. Sheila, you let your team to disaster today, and you're a bitch. So, the second player eliminated from PC Does Survivor, with three votes, is…"

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

"Tolkien Black."

Pandemonium breaks out.

"Really?" Tolkien says, gibbering as Sheila receives her towel and cheers. "Nichole, I thought — I thought you understood! It's not that I don't want to be friends, it's that I want to be friends without an ulterior motive…"

"But I didn't vote for you," Nichole says, looking around at the group. "I had no idea about this — who did this? Why?"

"I - I don't know what to believe! Leslie," Tolkien says, turning around and staring at her. "Shit, Wendy was right. Clyde, why didn't you vote for her!?"

"Because Kyle's mom is a bitch!"

"Mmmph!"

"Well," PC Principal says bracingly. "An enormous blindside, this early into the game. Tolkien, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"Y-Yes, several things!" he begins, but suddenly, the ground opens and swallows him up. The sand covers where he was standing just moments before.

"B-But who voted for him?" Wendy protests. "Other than Leslie?"

"I did!" Sheila says, standing. "That's what he gets for trying to eliminate me, and for upsetting Nichole like that!"

"He didn't upset me!" Nichole says, though she certainly sounds upset now. "But who was the last person? The third vote?"

"It must've been Dog Poo," Wendy says miserably. "Shit. Shit."

PC Principal adjusts his sunglasses. "And with that, bros, we reach the end of the second chapter of PC Does Survivor. But you, reading this, now have a chance to impact the game. Yes, you can select one contestant to receive an extra vote against them, should they be present at the next P.C Assembly."

"But Biggie Smalls said the entirety of Hell is watching," Big Gay Al says. "That'll be a lot of votes, PC Principal..."

"Excellent! Readers, what are you waiting for?" PC Principal points at you. Yes, you, reading this on that device of yours. "Cast your ballots!"

(Comment or Review to vote. Votes will be tallied from across and AO3 and will be combined with contestant votes in the next PC Assembly.)

Votes: Behind the Scenes

Nichole Daniels: "Well, I think Dog Poo contributed the least to this challenge. I just hope Wendy survives. I think she's my only friend here.

Wendy Testaburger: "Leslie, I hope I've done enough. You should be dead, and your threats won't work on me!"

Leslie Meyers: "Sorry, Tolkien. You are no longer part of the plan. So, I have arranged your demise."

Sheila Broflovski: "How dare you say my name, Tolkien! And Leslie's right — you really hurt poor Nichole, and that's not okay!"

Dog Poo Petuski: "Leslie told me to vote for Tolkien. According to the rules of reality shows, voting in the majority means I'm sure to be safe. Plus, he hurt a woman."

Clyde Donovan: "I vote for Sheila… Leslie's weird, but at least she's not a bitch… I want to go home."

Kenny McCormick: "Mmmph Mmm!" (Kyle's Mom)

Tolkien Black: "I trust Wendy, I suppose. I don't know. I guess I'll vote for Leslie… what harm could it do?"

(Leslie - Tolkien

Wendy - Leslie

Tolkien - Leslie

Clyde - Sheila

Kenny - Sheila)

Nichole - Dog Poo

Dog Poo - Tolkien

Sheila - Tolkien)

Meanwhile, in the middle of the desert, a river flows past beds of sand. Upon the sand are a variety of animals, ranging from gay lions, to gay zebras and, near the banks, gay humans.

"And that's why it's okay to be gay," Big Gay Al says, as his boat comes round the corner, a boy in a green ushanka sitting in the back.

"Please," Kyle says. "I'm not gay. I promise, I'm not gay."

"Uh oh!" Big Gay Al sings. "It looks like we're going round again, Kyle! When will you learn?"

Tune in next time! Thank you for reading, and for the comments and reviews on the first chapter!

~ ReadyForTeddy

Chapter Text

"Alright everybody, listen up," P.C Principal says. "Readers, contestants, and those with diverse gender orientations, I have called you here today for a few announcements about this competition."

All the contestants blink, standing in their teams. Behind them, the dunes billow like a sandstorm. It's as though they've been placed there like toy soldiers.

"But we've not had time to process the last elimination," Wendy says, crossing her arms. "How is this fair?"

"Shut your fuckin' mouth, Wendy! Anyway, I am here to inform you that the prize for winning the competition has changed."

"What!?" Cartman stamps his foot. "That's not kewl, motherfucker! I was really looking forward to that R. Kelly concert. Bring it back!"

"R. Kelly was killed in a tragic accident," PC Principal says, "Involving Biggie Smalls, a glock, and a cap being popped in R. Kelly's ass."

"But don't worry," Lorde says, sweeping in. "Because the new prize is even better. Tickets to see a man so desperate for exposure that he was practically begging to be on this show… Kanye West."

"Oh, great," Red mutters.

"Hol' up!" Kanye says, appearing and grabbing PC Principal's mic. "Hol'. The fuck. Up. The prize has been changed to tickets to see me. The greatest artist of our generation. And none of y'all are cheering?"

"Woo!" Cartman says. "Actually, fuck you. Even I don't like this guy."

"Also, I'm sick and tired of you all exerting your various gender and social privileges," PC Principal says. "So, I'm going to read out the viewer votes now, in the hope they may balance things out."

"Wait, we're finding the votes out early?" David says. "But where's the anticipation? The self-preservation?"

"There is still anticipation!" Big Gay Al says, smiling. "These votes will be combined with your team's votes later on. How super!"

"Exactly. Thank you, Big Gay Al." PC Principal surveys all of the contestants. "So, we received six votes. But some of those votes were formatted terribly, bros. Readers, educate yourselves and do better."

Confessional: Tweek Tweak (Local Spaz)

"Six votes? That's a 0.27 recurring percent chance of me receiving a vote! It's too much pressure!"

"The first vote was for Jimmy," PC Principal says. "Karma_666 spun a random wheel, and it chose him."

"Wow," Jimmy says. "W-What a re-retard."

"The next vote was for Cartman," PC Principal says. "GarlIc_bread said he 'really deserves it.'"

"What?" Cartman exclaims. "Garlic bread! Asshole! Remember what I did to Scott Tenorman's parents? Do you wanna come to my Garlic Bread Gala?" He narrows his eyes. "I can make it happen."

Stan and Kyle exchange a rapid, terrified glance.

"The next vote was for Dog Poo," Lorde says, stepping forward. "And this voter, 'pessoa', said they'd vote for Red and Heidi from the other teams, if they could. Apparently, the three of you aren't doing much. Lame."

"I'm doing plenty," Red says. "It's the boys who are doing nothing."

"As for the next voter," PC Principal continues, narrowing his eyes. "Who went by… Cheese_keys… they voted for more than one person. And I am sick and tired of people not doing what they're supposed to! So, we spun a wheel to decide between this person's votes for Eric Cartman and Kyle's mom… and it chose Eric Cartman."

"Son of a bitch!" Cartman cries.

"Meanwhile, StripeTheGuineaPig voted for Heidi," Lorde says. "Thank you for voting properly, Stripe."

"Wait," Craig says. "Stripe. My guinea pig. He cast a vote."

"For me?" Heidi says, looking worriedly around at the other contestants. "I promise, I'll try to be a better player…"

"The final vote," Big Gay Al says excitedly. "Was from GBond007, and was for DogPoo! Sorry, DogPoo. I know this must be hard for you."

Dog Poo shrugs.

"So, go back to your campsites," PC Principal says. "And – hold on!"

There's a surprised gasp. A carrier pigeon flies overhead, dropping a piece of paper on PC Principal's head. He unfurls it.

"An extra vote," he announces. "Just as this scene is being written. What a strange coincidence."

He looks suspiciously around at the cast, but they all look innocent.

"The vote is for Eric Cartman," PC Principal says. "From… novodontia. Because he 'takes up too much space.' Hey! I don't want to hear any discriminatory language against people of different sizes, you got that, bro!?"

"Motherfucker!" Cartman cries. "I'm not fat, you guys. I'm just girthy."

"Anyway," PC Principal continues. "There'll be another challenge tomorrow, and you'd better be ready to compete." He narrows his eyes. "And if you bros vote another fuckin' minority out after it, or if you try to kidnap my wife again… you'll earn yourself two hours in the education corner."

~~o00o~~

Team Peasants are the first to get back from the meeting, still shaken up after their drastic PC Assembly last time. Wendy looks worst off, shaking and nervously adjusting her beret. Sheila still looks furious, marching with her red mane flowing behind her and her arms crossed. Leslie, however, is the picture of serenity.

Confessional: Leslie Meyers (?)

"All went as planned. Tolkien had to go. He was entirely uninteresting."

"Look," Sheila says, sitting everyone down by their blazing fire pit. Above, the stars have come out, twinkling down on the contestants. "I'm not angry about receiving those votes, but I don't appreciate being called a bitch! It's just not respectful. That's all."

"Sorry…" Clyde says, his voice exponentially more nasal with guilt.

"And Kenny. I'm surprised at you!" Sheila says, turning. "I always thought you are a decent boy. Poor, but decent."

"And I always thought you were a bitch," Kenny says, muffled.

"What what what!?"

"Anyway," Nichole interrupts. "Sheila, why did you vote for Tolkien? He was a good member of the team, and it's not like he did anything wrong."

"Well," Sheila says defensively. "He was saying my name, the cheek of it. As if I haven't been a good leader! Besides, he really upset you in the morning, and we can't have any of that."

"But he didn't upset me," Nichole says. "You saw what happened. You were right behind me. Tolkien and I had a disagreement, but the only person who was upset was him."

"Well, I don't know then." Sheila stands, huffing. "Maybe we made a mistake. All I know is that now, he's gone, and we'll have to move on as a team."

Wendy sighs behind her, her hands stuffed into her pockets.

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Local Busybody)

"I don't understand it. I just don't understand it! Why didn't Leslie vote for me last night? Unless she meant it when she said I was safe." She shakes her head, sighing again. "Either way, we're still stuck playing this ridiculous game, and Leslie will be coming for me now. I just need to think."

"Two votes," Dog Poo says. "All for me. I can't believe it."

"Wait." Clyde stares. "You're actually talking, now?"

"Well, yes. Those votes were evidently because I'm not interesting enough at the moment. You see, in my rules of reality shows, I hadn't calculated for the viewer variable… but I think, so long as I'm not mean to anyone, and I say a joke at least once per chapter, I should be fine."

"Unless we vote you out for being an asshole," Kenny says.

Confessional: Nichole Daniels (Local Token)

"Since when could the writing crew understand Kenny's dialogue? And what's with all these captions beginning with 'local' now?"

We set Kenny up with a microphone. And, just go with the local thing. It's a new look for us, okay? We're self-conscious about it.

Meanwhile, on Team Humans, Cartman has a rather forced smile on his face.

"Those viewers are brutal, you guys. But I'm being seriously, I'm not fat. I'm just really, really big-boned."

Confessional: Eric Cartman (Local Nazi)

"Those motherfuckers! The readers think they can just waltz in here and vote me off? Well, read this, assholes!" He sticks up his middle finger, before rubbing his hands together with glee. "It's time to gather these losers together, and make double certain I reach the finals."

"Hey, Kevin," Cartman says, sidling up to him. "How are you finding the chicks on our team, hmm?"

"Oh, I don't know…" Kevin averts his eyes a little. "They're hot, I think. But all chicks are."

"Mmm. Very nice. And do you have a… shall we say, special favourite?"

"Well." Kevin reddens. "Bebe is... kinda awesome. But everyone likes Bebe. So I don't know if I have a chance with that."

"Well, what if I told you I knew the key to Bebe's heart?" Cartman says. "Indeed, I, Eric Cartman, know quite a bit about women."

"You do?" Kevin raises an eyebrow. "But since you went out with Heidi, not a single girl has even spoken to you."

"One day I will kill you," Cartman mutters. "I mean! Yes, yes, that may be true… but my mom is the biggest whore in South Park. I've picked up a few of her seductive ways. And I'd be happy to share them… for a price."

"Uh oh," Kevin mutters.

"Nothing too big, just… vote with me at PC Assembly. We'll keep you and Bebe safe, you two can fuck like rabbits, and everyone's happy."

Confessional: Kevin Stoley (Local Gamer)

"I don't trust Cartman. At all. But if he wants to keep me and Bebe in the game, then that's great!" He grins. "Score."

Confessional: Eric Cartman (Local Menace)

"Mark number one, secured. Eric Cartman's plan to get rid of the girls… begins!"

Meanwhile, said girls have gathered themselves into a tent. It's a little cramped, but they appear to be making do.

"The plan should be obvious," Red says. "Cartman's already got three votes against him from the viewers. Plus the three of us, that's a majority. Whatever happens in the challenge, us girls are safe tonight."

"That's great," Sophie says, looking up at the tent's canvas roof. "I think we should still try to win the challenge, though."

"What?" Red scoffs. "This is an opportunity, Sophie. We have a guaranteed majority of votes against Eric Cartman, and we can be rid of him for once and for all. We should throw the challenge and clear him out."

"Maybe…" Sophie frowns. "But it's not really in the spirit of the game."

"The spirit of the game?" Red says, incredulous. "Who gives a fuck about that? Eric certainly won't, when he's kicking your ass to the curb. Bebe, you know him better than us. How does this sparkle with you?"

But Bebe doesn't reply, just lying there and staring at the canvas roof.

"Uh, hello?" Red waves her hand above her face. "Are you even listening to us?"

"Yes… of course," Bebe murmurs. "But, ugh, how are we letting this happen?"

"Letting what happen?" Sophie asks softly.

"This game." Bebe sighs, sitting up. "We're here, playing it. Talking about alliances and threats and throwing challenges. We're doing exactly what PC Principal wants… it's like we've all been sucked in somehow, like we've fallen into some sort of trap."

"But we have to win," Red says. "We can't have someone like Eric Cartman beating us! How would we look then?"

"Do we really have to win?" Bebe looks at her. "Do you actually care about the prize? Tickets to see Kanye West? I'm sure Wendy would have it all figured out, over on her team. She's always good with shit like this."

"Oh, Wendy Wendy Wendy," Red huffs. "Look, Bebe, for all we know, eliminated contestants get fucking killed. The other teams – didn't you see the Drow Elves' faces the morning after they voted for Nathan? And the Peasants at the meeting earlier. Nichole looked like she was about to faint."

"So you want to get Eric killed?" Sophie says quietly. "That hardly seems fair."

"No! But if it comes down to us or him… he could get all the boys to work against us, and they'd pick us off, one by one. We need to throw this challenge, and deal with him sooner rather than later."

But Sophie pinches her brow. "If we win the challenge, we could all survive. I don't really want to risk getting someone murdered—"

"Look, Sophie," Bebe says calmly. "Most likely, eliminated contestants just get eliminated, not killed. I don't think murder would make the show look too good."

"…I guess."

"So," Red says. "We should throw the challenge. Does that sparkle?"

"Yes, it sparkles," Bebe says, but she sighs. "The others mustn't catch on. Or they'll deal with us harshly."

"Agreed." Red nods. "That's a majority vote, then. The girls' alliance will throw the challenge tomorrow." She leans back against the floor. "Sweet dreams, girls."

She falls asleep almost immediately, or at least, she seems to. Bebe and Sophie exchange a sort of half-shrug, but they don't say any more, and they lie down to sleep as well.

Confessional: Sophie Gray (Local Diabetic)

"I just don't know about this plan. If there's a risk of something bad happening to Eric, just because he gets eliminated, I don't think I could forgive myself." She sighs. "Once again, I need to watch out for everyone, and make sure nobody does something they'll regret. I'm… not letting anyone go again. Not after what happened to Scott Malkinson."

In the next tent over, Butters has crawled back into Tweek's tent.

"Gah," Tweak says. "Not you again! I need sleep, man!"

"I'm awful sorry," Butters says, knocking his knuckles together. "But it's real dark and scary sleeping on my own… A-And Eric said if I try to share with him, he'll - he'll carve out my eyeball with his pinkie toe…"

"Hmph." Tweek rolls over. "Fine! But – gah! No singing!"

"Okay!" Butters beams, throwing himself in. "Hey, listen to that. Who's that fella talking?"

It's Kevin. He's sitting with David in a tent nearby.

"So, man," Kevin says. "When are you gonna ask Red to be your girlfriend?"

David sighs. "I am not in love with her. Stop bugging me, would you?"

"But you'd be the cutest couple in school. You could call yourselves… Redvid. No, Ravid. Or Daved? And – I hear she really likes – uh – Mexican food."

David glares.

"A-And a wide range of other cuisines," Kevin says nervously. "Look, just ask her on a date, man. What could go wrong?"

"What could go wrong is that I don't even like her!" David says.

Confessional: David Rodriguez (Local Non-Local)

"...Right?"

"They're real silly," Butters says, still listening from the other tent. "Eric told me that girls are just, just aliens in disguise, trying to steal our wieners. But I guess you know that already, seeing as you're all gay yourself, huh?"

"U-Uh, yeah!" Tweek squeaks, though he looks nervous at the thought. "Girls are a-aliens?"

"Yep! Now, I ain't gonna talk no more, so goodnight," Butters says happily. "Don't let the bedbugs bite!"

"Bedbugs? Gah!"

~~o00o~~

On Team Drow Elves, Stan is the first to wake.

For a second, he opens his eyes, then sits up, possibly remembering where he is. He deflates slightly as he looks at Kyle, still blissfully asleep and facing the other wall of their tent, thumb in mouth. His ushanka has been discarded on the floor nearby, and Stan worriedly reaches for it, taking care as he moves it to Kyle's side, brushing off the sand.

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Local Cynic)

"This place is the worst. Everything is just so – shitty. The sun. The fucking sand. I'm so tired of it already. And the people, God." He pinches his brow. "It's like being back in elementary school."

He takes another moment to look at Kyle, then sighs, resigning himself to sitting outside. He snatches up his bobble hat, crawling out of the tent and into the blazing light.

The foodpile looks good, at least. The Whole Foods trip from winning the challenge was spent on surprisingly sensible food, with fruit and vegetables nestled among a whole host of vegan foodstuffs (by Heidi's request). Stan takes himself a thick slice of bread, then subtly looks over his shoulder and shoves a load more into his pockets for later.

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Local Cynic)

"What? Someone else would've stolen it first."

When his pockets are bulging and his stomach is relatively full, Stan sits on a log to look out at the sunrise.

"It's pretty, isn't it," Damien says, and Stan jumps. Damien continues, "Down in hell, we don't have sunrises. Our days are marked by the gates, which open at the start of each morning, then close at the end of each night."

"Sounds pretty shitty to me," Stan says.

Damien sits. He doesn't look tired, possibly having not slept at all, and he doesn't look nearly as evil as one might think the son of Satan would. "You're not enjoying yourself," he states.

"Well. Obviously." Stan rolls his eyes. "This place is scorching by day, then freezing cold at night. Kyle's already getting sunburn. And now, my dad is here, dressed as Lorde, to be a fucking co-host."

But Damien shakes his head. "You think you're so sad and depressed. I get enough of it from Craig. Ooh, I miss Tweak so much! All these assholes are so much worse than Tweak! Maybe if he didn't isolate himself so much, he'd get on with them a little better."

"Craig's a dick," Stan says. "Don't listen to him."

But Damien gives a humourless laugh. "Everyone's a dick. It's where you put that dick-iness that counts."

"As if you'd know," Henrietta says. Apparently, she'd been there the whole time, sitting by Heidi's tent. "You're evil, and you have, like, demonic powers. You tried to kill the entire school, once."

"I had a whole redemption arc," Damien says. "Still, do not mistake my wisdom as being nice."

Henrietta mutters something that sounds suspiciously like fucking emo, then puts her thumb in her mouth, and begins sucking on it.

"Erm, what are you doing?" Stan asks.

"Ugh. I don't have any more cigarettes, okay? I just need like. Something. There. You wouldn't understand."

Confessional: Stan Marsh (Local Cynic)

"That just reminds me of when Kenny died, and we tried to replace him with Butters. Honestly, I feel bad for goths. They don't even try to be normal, dude."

Confessional: Henrietta Biggle (Local Goth)

"Why was I even selected for this fucking competition? Why not Michael? Why not Pete?" She takes a long, searching suck on her finger. "I would never watch a reality show. I would never even associate with someone who watched reality shows. Much less read about them in a fucking book."

As for Team Peasants, Sheila is the first one awake as usual, which means everyone's soon back to work on their jobs. Kenny wrestles with yet another rattlesnake, Nichole and Clyde tend to the fire, but Dog Poo stands blankly in the distance, just watching.

Wendy stands beside him. "We need to talk."

Dog Poo doesn't say anything, just keeps staring straight ahead.

"If you don't answer me, I'll vote you off," Wendy says. "Did you account for that in your rules of reality shows?"

Dog Poo stays stoic for a few seconds longer, but he soon sighs. "Fine. What do you have to say?"

"Nothing much. Only that your strategy is absolutely ridiculous," Wendy says, turning. "What the fuck is your problem? Voting out Tolkien, just because Leslie told you to?"

"It put me in the majority," Dog Poo says blandly. "According to the rules of reality shows—"

"I don't care about the rules of reality shows! If you play like some sort of follower, Leslie will turn on you, just like that. And then your precious majority? Will vote for you to be eliminated."

Dog Poo shrugs.

"Are you even listening?" Wendy throws down her arms with exasperation. "Fine. Fine! Alright. Actually, we can work with this. At the next PC Assembly, Dog Poo, the majority are voting for Leslie. Vote with us, or you'll regret it."

She stalks away, leaving Dog Poo entirely unmoved.

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Local Busybody)

"I… think I got a bit heated there. But my point stands! Who does he think he is, setting us up to lose? Every competition, he's going to let us down, and then vote for whoever that Leslie bitch whispers in his ear."

"Hey," Clyde says to Kenny.

"What?" Kenny says, muffled.

"Is it true your mom's so poor that she only eats sweetcorn, just so she can shit it out and eat it again?"

"Hey!" Kenny turns to slap him, but the rattlesnake he's fighting takes a lunge for his leg, and Kenny gives a muffled yelp as he's chomped.

"Kenny!" Clyde cries. "Are you okay?"

"Rattlesnake venom is deadly!" Nichole says, rushing over fast. "Kenny, can you hear me? Are you with us?"

"Mmmmph…"

"Hold it right there!" A group of three men appear in the camp, dressed in explorer gear with binoculars around their necks. Their leader steps forward, dressed in a cheap cowboy hat and camo shorts. "We represent the Colorado Division of Wildlife. Hunting prairie rattlesnakes like these is forbidden, unless you have a proper small hunting license."

"He's dying!" Wendy says as Kenny falls to the sand. "Can't you do something to help?"

"Absolutely not. This boy has violated the sanctity of our wildlife, damn him. He must be taken away."

"Taken away?" Sheila appears, hands on her hips. "You're not taking away my team members, mister! This boy needs to catch snakes, or we'll have to eat gourmet cat food."

"We'll return him when he learns about the importance of wildlife to a sustainable ecosystem." The leader picks up Kenny's body, which might possibly be dead at this point, leaving behind only the rattlesnake and his parka. "Let's go!"

They hurry away, leaving the Peasants worried.

"Well, that sucks," Lorde says, appearing. "But it's challenge time, so I guess you'd better follow me."

The teams assemble in the challenge area. The only people on Team Humans who look remotely happy are Butters and Kevin, as well as Red, who seems rather determined. Nobody on Team Drow Elves appears happy in the slightest however, with everyone possibly trying to avoid being within five feet of each other. But Sheila hurries over to them, clutching Kenny's parka and the rattlesnake.

"Kyle! Bubbeleh! Your little friend Kenny, he was bitten by a snake and taken away by the Colorado Division of Wildlife — this is all that's left of him!"

"Oh my gosh, that rattlesnake killed Kenny!" Stan cries.

"You bastard!" Kyle exclaims, and he takes the parka and the rattlesnake, which is now wriggling and hissing rather aggressively. "I'd kill you too, snake," he says. "But it's not legal to do so without a small hunting license. Instead… I shall put you in prison." He bundles it up in the parka, then stuffs it under his shirt.

"But Kyle," Sheila says. "Your poor friend, what are you going to do?"

"Save him," Kyle says turning. "Go and save his life, or you are no longer my mother. Goodbye."

Sheila hurries off, tearful, and PC Principal chooses that moment to appear.

"Alright everybody, listen up," PC Principal says. "I have been made aware of a very serious and very continuous issue with this show. And you are all part of the problem."

"Oh, great," Bebe mutters.

"You bros are stuck in 2022." PC Principal looks around at the cast, peering over his PC sunglasses. "You bros think it's okay to use microaggressions in a reality show? Henrietta, just because Damien here resides in Hell, does not make him a fucking emo! And Kevin. If I hear one more comment about so-called Mexican food, you're fuckin' out of here, got that?"

"Okay," Kevin mutters.

"Good. Now, bros, this next challenge will put your PC-ness to the test. I have here a starving child from the province of Ethiopia." PC Principal spreads his arms to reveal him.

"Wait, Starvin' Marvin?" Cartman says with disbelief. "Really? That's a low blow, PC Principal. That's a low, low blow."

"I'm his brother!" he squeaks. "My name's click-oh-in-uh-ma'tin."

"Oh, Starvin' Martin, of course," Stan says. "Why are you speaking English, dude?"

"It is - is the nest," Starvin' Martin says glumly. "They make us speak. The—"

"Anyway," Big Gay Al interrupts fruitily. "Your challenge is to make Rattlesnake Soup to feed young Starvin' Martin here. He will judge which soup is the best and which is the worst, and the losing team will be up for a not-so-super elimination. You have forty-seven minutes — good luck!"

Without questioning it, the teams hurry off to get to work, and after a moment of consideration, Starvin' Martin follows the Drow Elves.

"Alright," Heidi says. "If we need to make rattlesnake soup, then we need to start with — oh, hello there."

"Hello," Starvin' Martin chirps.

"H-Hey." Jimmy steps in. "W-What would you like in - in your rattlesnake soup?"

"I hate rattlesnake soup," Starvin' Martin says.

The contestants gasp.

"What do you like, then?" Heidi asks.

"T-Tinned yams." Starvin' Martin grins.

"Dude," Stan says. "I thought your people ended up on Marklar, anyway. What are you doing back here?"

"We come home," Starvin' Martin says. He sits on the desert floor.

"But why come back into poverty?" Kyle asks. "Did someone make you come back?"

"The - The nest," Starvin Martin squeaks. "They promise water. Turkeys."

"The nest? Oh, wait." Craig sighs. "Fucking Nestlé. I see."

"Nestlé?" Stan looks between Craig, Kyle and Starvin' Martin. "What do they have to do with this?"

"Charity work," Heidi realises. "They must be trying to help those less fortunate than themselves."

But Craig rolls his eyes. "Fuck no, they're not trying to help anyone. You see, Heidi, every so often, some bullshit corporation decides it's going to take the moral high ground. They go into some developing country, pretend that they're doing something good, then charge them a fuck ton of money for electricity and shit. All while increasing their sales and looking like angels."

Jimmy stamps one of his crutches. "Th-That is fuck - fuuu - fucking bullshit!"

"Yeah, that is fucked up," Kyle says. "Starvin' Martin, is there anything we can do?"

"Come!" Starvin' Martin says. "Kill them!"

"Uhm." Stan looks nervously at Kyle. "We're kind of in the middle of a competition…"

"Well, I'm going," Kyle says. "I'm tired of corporations doing fucked up shit under our noses. And… Craig can come with me! Starvin' Martin, how can we get to Ethiopia in under twenty minutes?"

"Like this," Starvin' Martin says, and he grabs both Kyle and Craig's hands.

"Wait—" Craig begins.

But Starvin' Martin gives a shrill whistle, and a green beam of light descends from the sky. Kyle, Craig and Starvin' Martin are caught in the beam, and they're whisked up and away into a spaceship.

"Dude," Stan says.

Meanwhile, Team Peasants are fretting.

"How on earth are we going to catch a rattlesnake without that Kenny boy?" Sheila says. "And without that Colorado Division of Wildlife showing up? Oy, this challenge is impossible. I just hope my bubbeleh is doing better."

Nichole stares at the sky. "I think he got abducted by aliens."

"What what what!?"

"Yeah, that happens all the time in school," Clyde says. "Didn't you know? Kyle and Stan and Cartman do loads of stupid shit. Once they took Craig to Peru."

"Well! Kyle will be hearing some words about this." Sheila crosses her arms, looking over at the Drow Elves. "I always wondered if that Stan was a bad influence... But for now, we ought to find Kenny."

"Erm, shouldn't we be finding rattlesnakes?" Wendy says. "We don't need Kenny to make rattlesnake soup—"

"Kenny is a valuable member of our team," Sheila says. "We mustn't let him down when he needs us most."

"But he called you a bitch yesterday. And he voted for you."

"So?" Sheila says. "I care about more than silly things like that. We're a team, and we stick together. You've got a lot to learn, Wendy."

Confessional: Nichole Daniels (Local Token)

"I'm not sure why Sheila's taking the moral high ground now. She didn't care much about the team when she decided to get rid of Tolkien."

"Dog Poo, you can stay behind and cook the soup," Sheila says. "The rest of us shall find Kenny."

"Won't Dog Poo just stay behind and do nothing?"

"Well, if he does nothing, we'll vote him out! Let's go. Come on."

Team Peasants hurry away, leaving Dog Poo alone, and they pass Team Humans, who already have a fire going.

"Whoops!" Red says, tripping over and dropping the rattlesnake meat she'd been carrying. "Oh dear. Looks like we'll have to kill more of them…"

Cartman mutters something that sounds suspiciously like "dumb bitch," but he takes out a hatchet and begins hunting again. Meanwhile, Bebe and Sophie are working on the other ingredients.

"Is it really a good idea to sabotage the soup?" Sophie says worriedly, dropping her voice so Kevin and David won't hear from nearby. "What if they see us?"

"Oh, we'll just make some honest mistakes," Bebe replies, though she still sounds a little worried. "Or… hey, Butters, can you go and get us a saucepan?"

"Well, I sure can!" Butters says, having been approaching from behind. "In fact, I've a rather big pan right here." He brings it out.

Sophie frowns. "Where did you get that?"

"I always keep an emergency pan! Just, just in case my parents kick me out and I, er, have to cook myself some beans…" His voice trails off. "But anyway! Do you fellas need help with anythin' else?"

"No, we're fine," Bebe says, giving Sophie a worried glance. "Why don't you help Tweek kill that rattlesnake? He looks a bit… terrified."

"Well, sure!" Butters says, and he hurries off.

With Butters gone, the girls set the pan up over the fire.

"Remember," Red says, coming over. "Sabotage it enough that it tastes horrible, but not enough that it actually kills that Ethiopian kid."

"We know," Bebe says. "Could you distract David and Kevin for us? We don't want them to find out what we're up to."

"Oh, uh. Of course," Red says, though she suddenly looks worried. "Wish me luck."

Confessional: Red McArthur (Local Saboteur)

"Distract my ex-boyfriend and his friend? Well, this can only go fucking terribly."

She begins walking over, and David and Kevin perk up almost immediately.

Confessional: Kevin Stoley (Local Gamer)

"Perfect! Once Red and David to start going out, the path to Bebe will be clear." He smirks. "They don't call me Cupid Stoley for nothing. Or, well, they don't call me that at all, but they will after this!"

Confessional: David Rodriguez (Local Non-Local)

"…Mierda."

"Hey, boys," Red says stiffly, reaching them. "What are you doing for the uh. For the challenge?"

"Oh, just this and that," Kevin says, grinning a little. "David was just killing some rattlesnakes, weren't you?"

"Was I?"

"Yes, you were. He's so strong," Kevin says, turning back to Red. "You should see him with his shirt off. Whoo."

Red blinks.

"Anyway, it's been a while, how are you? How's Bebe?" Kevin continues. "Making the soup? It's where she's most comfortable, I suppose — fuck! I mean, uh. That's not what I meant."

David facepalms.

"You haven't changed much," Red says eventually. "How unsurprising."

"Well, you have," Kevin replies. "Looking good! Uh, and tall."

"Kevin, we broke up eight years ago. If you're trying to fucking hit on me again—"

"But I'm not!" Kevin holds up his hands. "No, this isn't about me. It's uh, it's my friend here, David, you see. He gets nervous about these things."

"No, I don't," David mutters.

"And he just, he really likes you, y'know? Would you give him a chance? Maybe go for a nice date in the, uh… PC Assembly area…?"

"Um." Red looks stunned. "David? Really?"

David gives a sort of half-shrug, as though he's afraid to confirm or deny the accusations.

"Dude, I'm a fucking lesbian," Red says. "I'm not interested in men. Ever. Got that? So, you'd better be good at moving on."

She stalks back off towards the girls, who are busy putting pieces of cactus into the soup. David is left rather stunned.

"Women these days!" Kevin says, clapping David on the shoulder. "Oh well. Plenty more fish in the sea. Now, Sophie's been kinda looking at you…"

~~o00o~~

The spaceship flies over the Atlantic Ocean, with Kyle and Craig sitting on the floor, two Marklars operating the controls, and Starvin' Martin spinning on a wheely chair.

"This is fucked up," Craig says.

Confessional: Craig Tucker (Local Homosexual)

(The Confessional Room has become a storage cupboard in the spaceship.) "Once again, Kyle is kidnapping me and bringing me to a foreign country. Why am I not surprised."

Confessional: Kyle Broflovski (Local Jew)

"I heard that — shut the fuck up, dude!"

"So," Craig says. "Did you and your super gay friend break up."

"No," Kyle replies. "Fuck you."

Craig raises an eyebrow. "If you're trying to make him jealous by going off to Ethiopia with me, it's not going to work. Trust me, Tweek's fine ass is the only thing I'm gay for."

"I'm not trying to make him jealous!" Kyle says. "I just wanted to ask you a question, that's all."

"Oh, joy."

"Like… how did you know you were gay, dude? Big Gay Al is convinced that I am, but I don't know who to believe anymore. "

"Well, I didn't get to decide," Craig replies. "The Asian girls decided I was, they drew some fucking yaoi, and then Tweek and I got together for the good of the town."

"But you're still together," Kyle says.

"Yes. Like I said, he has a fine ass."

"So, if I think a guy's ass is fine, does that make me gay?"

"What. No." Craig sighs. "Look, do you want to fuck him? Or do you want him to fuck you?"

"Does that matter?" Kyle says worriedly.

"No, but Tweek and I have bets on it. If Marsh is doing the fucking, that's ten dollars to me."

"Ten dollars — I should've known you wouldn't take this seriously!" Kyle says. "I actually have a problem that I need help with, and you're being an asshole about it. I might as well have asked Mr Slave, he'd be more helpful than you!"

Confessional: Craig Tucker (Local Homosexual)

"Mr Slave? He did not just say that."

"Look," Craig says. "I'm going to say this once, then never again. And if you tell anyone I said this, I will kick your ass and then kick Stan's. You see, when I think about Tweek… it's like this warm feeling, like I want to hold and protect him from everything. Like I want to do things with him, and like he's better than anybody else. That makes me super mega gay for him. And if you feel that way about Stan, then you're probably super mega gay for him too."

"Oh," Kyle says, and his expression brightens. "Well, I think that means I'm not gay."

"Wait. What?"

"I don't want to protect Stan, dude! I want to — I don't know. Play video games with him. Rip on Cartman with him. And, well, nothing crazy… nothing beyond the very minimum… maybe suck his dick."

"Hold on," Craig says. "I think I heard something in there. It sounded gay."

"What, playing video games? Gah, I knew it! My mom always said they'd turn me funny."

"No, not that. The dick part. That's gay, dude." Craig says. "Very, very fucking gay."

"What, really?" Kyle looks worried all of a sudden. "But like, isn't that what friends do? To help each other out? You've gotta help me dude, Stan's dick is like, scary."

But Craig holds up his hands. "I don't want to hear about Stan's dick. This is bottom shit. You'll have to talk to Tweek about that. And for the record, for both of our sakes, this conversation never happened."

"Okay," Kyle says, but he still looks worried.

Confessional: Kyle Broflovski (Local Jew)

"I might've known, Craig didn't help at all. What if I never figure it out? What if I'm doomed to sexual purgatory? Oh, the humanity!"

"We are Marklar," says the nearest Marklar as the spaceship arrives in Ethiopia.

Starvin' Martin and his new gang exit the ship. They're in another desert, except this time, there are a few huts dotted around the place, and there's an enormous factory pumping out thick, dark smoke. Several electrical wires emerge from the factory, apparently powering some houses, which flicker weakly with static. Walking up to the village, Starvin' Martin's gang passes a water vendor.

"$1 for a bottle of water!" says the Nestlé representative behind it. "Only $1… it's a good deal!"

Next they pass a school, where a white man dressed in army uniform is giving English lessons to a group of worried-looking children.

"It's pronounced glo-ba-li-station, not globash. Glo-Ba-Li-Sa-Tion! Now, you try."

"Dude, this is fucked up," Kyle says.

"Marklar," agrees a Marklar. Starvin' Martin nods sadly.

They enter the village, passing one of the huts, where a white man is banging on a door made of corrugated iron. "Open up! Your electricity bill is due, it's $400!"

"Starvin' Martin, what can we do?" Kyle turns. "There are so many Nestlé employees here, it'll be impossible to kill them all!"

But Starvin' Martin points to the village well, which has been fitted with a large pipe that's sucking out all the water towards the factory.

"Wow," Craig says. "This is somehow even more blatant than I was expecting."

"Marklar?"

"There's nothing we can do," Craig says. "It is the nature of suffering. Time to go home, I guess."

"No, wait," Kyle says, as Starvin' Martin points between the well and the factory, like there's apparently some sort of deeper meaning. "Starvin' Martin, does that factory produce electricity?"

Starvin' Martin nods.

"But how? There aren't any trucks delivering fuel… and I don't see any turbines or solar panels."

"It's Nuclear fission, dumbass," Craig says, before Starvin' Martin can answer. "They'd just need uranium."

But Starvin' Martin keeps pointing toward the factory.

"What."

"Ka-boom," Starvin' Martin says.

"No, I am not exploding a nuclear power station," Craig says. "I do, unfortunately, value my life."

"Wait, but dude," Kyle says. "Nuclear power produces a ton of heat, right? What are they using as coolant? If we reduce it, it'll force them to evacuate at least."

Starvin' Martin points to the pipes drawing water from the well.

"That?" Kyle yelps. "They're using drinking water?"

"We can Marklar the Marklar!" says a Marklar excitedly. "And Marklar the Marklar!"

"But if we break the pipes, the reactor will explode!"

"The Marklar is Marklar." The Marklar points to the spaceship.

"It's nuclear-resistant. Of course it is," Craig says. "Which would give us about five minutes to get an entire village inside."

Starvin' Martin jumps with excitement.

"But, Marklar," says the Marklar. "The Marklar is Marklar."

"He's right," Craig says. "The pipes are made of steel."

"Actually…" Kyle pulls Kenny's parka and the rattlesnake inside it out from beneath his shirt. "That doesn't have to be a problem."

"Marklar?"

"…Oh, of course," Craig says flatly. "That'll do it."

"Trust me!" Kyle says, and he hurries over to the well, dressing the pipe in Kenny's parka. "Once the pipe is broken, we'll have about five minutes to get everyone in the spaceship before the factory explodes. Starvin' Martin, are you sure you want to do this? There's about a 25% chance that we all immediately die."

Starvin' Martin nods.

"Okay. Then, everyone get ready. And Stan, if we die here and I never see you again, I might be gay for you, dude."

Kyle releases the rattlesnake, and it begins slithering toward the pipe. It looks up, seeing Kenny's parka, and that's all the incentive it needs to attack. With one almighty lunge, it leaps, sinking its teeth into the metal…

Kaboom!

~~o00o~~

"We're here," Sheila says, as Team Peasants reach a building with the words Colorado Threats To Wildlife Prison on it. "Oy, where's Leslie?"

The team look among themselves. Leslie isn't there.

"Never mind," Nichole says, just as Wendy opens her mouth to speak. "Let's just go in. Kenny could be dead by now."

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Local Busybody)

"Without Leslie here, now is the perfect time to think of a plan. I just need to find someone to work with… or Sheila will tell her everything."

Confessional: Nichole Daniels (Local Token)

"Without Leslie here, I might finally be able to talk to Wendy about what happened with Tolkien. If Leslie was really behind it, then she needs to go."

Team Peasants continue into the building, where they're met by an ornate lounge, full of marble and fake potted plants. A security guard apprehends them.

"Excuse me, what business do you have here?"

"We've come to collect our friend," Sheila says. "He was taken here for fighting a rattlesnake."

"Ah, yes. Door six. But you may want to be aware, he wasn't in a good way."

The team looks worriedly among themselves, but they hurry into the room, which is a strange cross between a medical ward and a classroom.

"Kenny?" Wendy says. "Are you here?"

But the scene is dismal. Kenny lies there on a hospital bed, his leg mangled and purple. His eyes are closed, and Clyde lets out a worried sob.

"Is he dead?"

"I'm afraid so," a doctor says grimly. "The rattlesnake venom reached his heart, and he didn't last much longer after that. Before he died, he didn't even manage to understand the importance of Colorado wildlife."

"Y-You monsters!" Wendy cries. "If you hadn't taken him away, he might've survived!"

"He passed in great agony and screaming with pain," the doctor says. "But compared to the plight of that rattlesnake… it is nothing. Now, is one of you called Sheila? Before he died, he insisted I give you this note."

"Yes, that's me," Sheila says tearfully. "That poor boy. That poor, poor boy." She takes the note and unfurls it.

Kyle's Mom is a bitch.

"Oh!" Sheila wails. "Oh, it's too much!"

"Come on," Nichole says grimly, as Clyde begins to cry. "Let's get out of here."

The team leave the scene, all too keen to get away from Kenny's pallid body. They open the building's doors, nodding tearfully to the security guard, going back out into the vast and barren desert. In somber unity they begin to walk back toward the challenge area, but Kenny McCormick steps out from behind a cactus.

"Hey guys," he says, muffled. "What the fuck are you crying about?"

~~o00o~~

"Alright, that should do it," Bebe says, emptying a bag of marbles into the soup.

"Agreed," Red says, tossing away the bottle of hydrogen peroxide she'd been pouring in.

But Sophie looks worriedly at the soup. It's turned green, like some sort of cartoonish toxic waste. Cartman comes over and peers into it.

"Seriously you guys, what the fuck is this? I thought you bitches were supposed to be good at cooking. Weak, dude."

"Th-That doesn't look — gah! — safe!" Tweak yelps.

Confessional: Tweak Tweek (Local Spaz)

"If - If I didn't know better, I'd say - I'd say they did this on purpose! What if they're planning to vote me off? Ah!"

"Well, I think it smells delicious," Butters says warmly. "I sure would love to, to have a little taste… but my mom says it's wrong to take food from poor, starving Ethiopian children…"

But while all this is happening, Sophie watches from a distance, the sun casting shadows on her face.

Confessional: Sophie Gray (Local Diabetic)

"It's not right. We can't feed him this. I… don't know what to do! If I go against my alliance, they'll be furious with me…"

"How much longer do we have?" Stan says from the Drow Elves' cooking area.

"Five minutes, bro!"

"Well, this is quite calamitous," Damien says, but Stan just looks up at the sky, murmuring something about Kyle.

"Okay, come on," Heidi says suddenly. "Let's think about this logically. Starvin' Martin doesn't like rattlesnake soup, and besides, I'd rather not cook anything with meat in it. Does anyone have any ideas? In fact, does anyone have any food whatsoever?"

"Oh, uh." Stan digs into his pockets, taking out the slices of bread he stole earlier. They look quite squished from where he'd been sitting. "I have these."

"Great," Heidi says. "That's a start. But what can we use bread for…?"

Confessional: Heidi Turner (Local Vegan)

"It's strange. I never saw myself as much of a leader, but this team's such a mess that I don't have much choice. I almost wish I hadn't been so rude to Jimmy… but I don't know. I don't want to risk being betrayed again."

"What was that conformist kid's favourite food?" Henrietta asks. "We could, like. Use that, I guess."

"T-Tinned Y-Yams," Jimmy says. "B-But we have n-no yams."

Behind them, Leslie looks out from behind a cactus, and she murmurs, "Yams? Just the information I need..."

She scuttles away, just as Team Peasants arrive back from their excursion.

"We're here!" Wendy exclaims. "Kenny's alive! Dog Poo, please say you made the soup?"

But Dog Poo just stands there, staring at her.

"Dog Poo," Wendy begins, but Nichole interrupts.

"It's alright, we've still got time. Who knows how to make rattlesnake soup?"

"Me," Dog Poo says, and he points at a pan of perfectly-browned rattlesnake soup, filled with seasoning, rattlesnake and vegetables.

"Oh!" Sheila cries, hurrying over to it. "Oh, how wonderful… but where is that Leslie girl…?"

Confessional: Leslie Meyers (?)

"It's time." She grins.

Leslie comes up beside Sophie, who stares wistfully as Team Humans take their bright green soup off the stove.

"Hello," Leslie says.

"Oh, hey?" Sophie looks surprised. "I didn't think we were allowed to talk to people on other teams."

"We are not," Leslie says. She holds up a can of tinned yams. "This is Starvin' Martin's favourite food."

"…okay?"

She pushes the can into Sophie's hands. "Use it well."

She leaves.

Confessional: Sophie Gray (Local Diabetic)

"Oh, great. A moral dilemma… if I put in the yams, our team might be safe, and we won't have to go to the PC Assembly. But if I don't put them in, I stick with my alliance… what on earth am I going to do?"

"One minute left!" PC Principal exclaims. "You bros better have all your team members back here by the end!"

"Come on," Stan mutters, looking up at the sky as Heidi toasts the bread over a fire. "Don't die on me, dude…"

"He's not dead," Damien says darkly. "I would feel it if he had entered my father's domain."

"We need cutlery!" Sheila squawks from the Peasants' area. "We can't expect him to eat like some sort of dog!"

"30 seconds, guys," Lorde says.

"That's not very long!" Big Gay Al cries.

"Done!" Bebe slams a bowl of green stuff onto the judging table, which might not have been there a second ago.

"Us too," Clyde says, and as he puts the rattlesnake soup on the table, he catches Bebe's eye.

"We'll have to submit this," Heidi sighs, and she throws the toast onto a plate. "Damien, can you use your satanic powers to teleport this to the judging table?"

"Uh—"

"I-I will do it," Jimmy says, and he gives Heidi a slight smile. "A-Allow me…"

"Four," PC Principal says.

"Come on," Stan mutters.

"Three…"

Something begins to glow in the distance.

"Two…"

Stan stands, just as a spaceship descends madly from the sky.

"One…"

"We're here!" Kyle cries, tumbling out. Craig comes next, looking extremely dazed, followed by Starvin' Martin and the entire population of his Ethiopian village.

"Zero!"

"Craig!" Tweak cries. "I thought you'd died!"

"Hey, babe." Craig gives the closest thing to a smirk that he has. "You won't be rid of me that easily."

"Alright everybody, listen up," PC Principal says. "Your time is up, and your dishes have been presented. This young Ethiopian boy will now judge the rattlesnake soups. He will score them out of ten. Is that okay with you, bro?"

"Yes," Starvin' Martin agrees, nodding.

He looks over the dishes. Team Humans' remains suspiciously green, with what may almost certainly be fishbones floating in them. Team Drow Elves' plate of crumpled toast is charred in several places, and raw in several others. Only Team Peasants' soup looks remotely appetising.

Starvin' Martin takes a bite of the toast. The Ethiopians hold their breath. Starvin' Martin chews, forcing down the bread, before holding up five fingers.

"Five out of ten!" Kyle says, and Stan shoots him a remarkably warm smile.

Starvin' Martin moves onto the Humans' offering. He ladles a big portion into a bowl, where some paper, sand and talcum powder float to the surface. A spoonful is taken, and he swallows.

He holds up three fingers.

"We didn't get zero!?" Red exclaims. "I mean, uh. That's terrible. Sorry, team."

Confessional: Red McArthur (Local Lesbian)

"How the fuck did we get three points? I put bleach in that soup. Bleach!"

Confessional: Sophie Gray (Local Diabetic)

She holds up a can of yams. It's empty. "I… had to do it. I couldn't bear to see our team lose without fighting. It just wouldn't have been right."

Starvin' Martin moves onto the final dish, Team Peasants' immaculate rattlesnake soup.

"Remember, bros," PC Principal says. "The winning team will get to enter the Whole Foods store. You'll need more than a five out of ten to do so."

"Please," Nichole says. "No more gourmet cat food…"

Starvin' Martin takes a spoonful. He swallows it down, chomping on that sweet, tender rattlesnake meat. He gets a scent of the fragrant herbs and spices, combined with the freshest vegetables in the land…

…And he spits them out on the floor, holding up only one finger. "I hate rattlesnake soup!"

"What what what!?"

"And Team Drow Elves win!" PC Principal exclaims. "Meaning that Team Peasants… you bros are going to the PC Assembly again. I'll see you again soon."

The Ethiopians cheer, and the Peasants look thoroughly disheartened. Starvin' Martin hops back toward his family and into the Marklar spaceship.

"Marklar," says one Marklar, waving.

"But where are you going to go?" Stan asks.

"Back to Marklar," comes the deep voice of the village's leader. "We shall not be tricked by Nestlé again. Thank you Kyle and Craig of South Park for blowing up their headquarters."

The ship's door closes, and it flies into the sky. Kyle turns towards us, the writers.

"You know, I learnt something today. Sometimes, corporations pretend to be like martyrs, teaching people English and giving them water. But often, they're charging thousands of dollars for electricity, and being complete and utter dicks. And the right thing to do to dicks is to blow them."

Stan whispers something in his ear.

"Uh, I mean, the right thing to do to dicks is to blow them up!"

~~o00o~~

Team Peasants reconvene back in their desert camp. The sun sets over the horizon, illuminating the team's bright green banners in a warm, golden haze.

Confessional: Kenny McCormick (Local Slut)

"What the hell? That soup looked good enough to fuck!"

"That starving Ethiopian boy had a very strange taste in food," Sheila says, sitting down by the team's fire. "Dog Poo, you tried your best, so don't take it too badly."

Dog Poo blinks.

"Actually," Leslie says simply. "I created that soup. I did not… trust him to do it himself. Considering previous events."

For the first time in a while, Dog Poo breaks out of his rigid stance. "What? No. That is not true."

"Well, Leslie." Sheila looks impressed. "Aren't you just our team's star player? Oy, you're the sort of girl who would suit my Kyle just perfectly. Do you keep Kosher?"

"I… tend to," Leslie says.

"Could I have everyone's attention?" Nichole says, just as Wendy says, "Excuse me?"

"Oh, go on Wendy," Nichole says. "Sorry for interrupting."

"No, you go on," Wendy says. "If what you have to say is so important."

"Uh… okay. Well, I was just thinking, the last PC Assembly was a bit of a mess." Nichole sits, fiddling with her thumbs. "So, I just wanted to say, if there's someone who you plan to vote off, it's better to share it with everyone. Or you'll come across as deceitful."

There's a moment of pause.

"Kyle's mom is still a bitch," Kenny says.

"What what what?" Sheila says, and she actually sounds a little hurt this time. "After all I did for you?"

"I don't think group discussions are good," Leslie says, and she looks directly at Wendy. "They create tension. I prefer to speak to people alone."

"Agreed," Sheila says haughtily. "Especially if I'm just going to be insulted. Come on, Leslie. Let's talk."

Confessional: Wendy Testaburger (Local Busybody)

"…And that just about confirms it. I need to find somebody to work with, or I'll never get out of here and put an end to this competition! I can't choose Kenny, he'll just try to sleep with me. I can't work with Dog Poo, he's probably still voting for whoever Leslie tells him to. And I'm certainly not working with Nichole, which leaves… Clyde?" She pinches her brow. "Oh, God."

Clyde walks to the edge of the campsite, adjusting his bandanna as Wendy walks alongside him.

"So," Clyde says nervously. "What did you want to talk to me about? Is Bebe mad at me again?"

"No, it's not that." Wendy sighs. "It's… Leslie. She was the one who decided to vote for Tolkien. Her, Sheila, and Dog Poo."

"Oh, man," Clyde says.

"Tolkien and I were working together," Wendy says. "We wanted to get rid of Leslie, but we didn't get enough votes. Now, she's almost certainly coming for me, and she might be coming for you next."

"Me?" Clyde looks worried. "But I've done nothing wrong."

"You did get Kenny killed," Wendy points out. "You distracted him while he was fighting a rattlesnake..."

Confessional: Clyde Donovan (Local Crybaby)

"Oh, man… she's right! I did kill Kenny. I'm a bastard!"

"Look," Wendy says. "There's no need to worry. We just need to gather more people than Leslie does. Any suggestions?"

"How about Nichole?" Clyde says.

"Eurgh." Wendy looks a little sickened. "I don't think so. If she tries to get involved, she'll try to lead the whole thing, and then we'll be fucked. How about Kenny, do you think you can get him onside?"

Clyde shrugs. "Probably."

"Great." Wendy's expression hardens. "Then, I think it's pretty clear what we need to do..."

Confessional: Leslie Meyers (?)

"It is clear what needs to be done at this PC Assembly. I think… democracy shall rule this one."

Confessional: Dog Poo (Dog Poo)

"I really did make that soup! But… the rules of reality shows say that if I get into a fight with another contestant, I have a 50/50 chance of getting eliminated…"

Confessional: Nichole Daniels (Local Token)

"Once again, I've got no idea what's going on. Great! I tried to talk to Wendy, but she just blanked me. I suppose I'll just have to follow my heart."

~~o00o~~

"Alright everybody, listen up. Welcome back to the PC Assembly area," PC Principal says as Team Peasants come in, sitting down on the signature benches. The green banners stand mightily behind them, unchanged from the last PC Assembly, though they are very slightly dirtier. Mr Mackey is already waiting for them, sitting with his clipboard in hand. Lorde and Big Gay Al, however, are nowhere to be seen.

"You may have noticed my co-hosts are absent," PC Principal says. "This is because they are cleaning up the body of Kanye West, who was killed when the Marklar ship landed on his head."

"How sad. Anyway," Wendy says. "Does that mean you've found another third-rate musician's concert tickets to be the prize?"

"Actually, we are turning to the readers on that one." PC Principal turns to face you, yes, you, and his dazzling cerulean eyes stare into your soul. "Readers, what do you think the prize should be for winning PC Survivor? You bros had better not say anything remotely demeaning to a marginalised community in your replies."

"Uhm, PC Principal?" Mr Mackey says. "Can we get on with the Tribal Counsel now?"

"And that's two week's detention for you, Mackey."

"Wh-What?"

"Yes, you may start." PC Principal sits down, crossing his arms. "But I'm sick and tired of your rudeness. And also, I'd like to remind you all of the viewer votes from this morning. Dog Poo, you received two. Nobody else received any."

Dog Poo stares unmovingly at PC Principal.

"M-M'kay," Mr Mackey says, adjusting his tie. "Team Peasants, you lost again today. W-Wendy, why do you think that is?"

"Because the judging was biased," Wendy huffs. "Our Rattlesnake Soup was perfectly good, compared to burnt toast, which isn't even a soup, and green stew."

"M'kay… and Dog Poo, who made the soup that lost you the challenge?"

Dog Poo is quiet for a little, but eventually he says, "I did."

"That is not true," Leslie says. "I left the group that retrieved Kenny. I returned to make the soup."

"I made it," Dog Poo says, but he sounds feeble. "I - I killed the rattlesnakes and everything."

"Wait, doesn't that go against your rules of reality shows?" Nichole asks. "Surely making the entire soup is consequential."

"But — the rules of reality shows also say that the best way to be safe is winning the challenge," Dog Poo says. "I made the soup."

Wendy looks worriedly between Dog Poo and Leslie, but she doesn't say anything.

"M'kay," Mr Mackey says. "Leslie, do you feel you have contributed to your team?"

"Yes," Leslie says. "I have worked hard. I made the soup. I help out at camp."

"B-But," Dog Poo begins, but Mr Mackeg interrupts him.

"And Sheila. Do you think respect is important within a team?"

"Oh, yes." She puffs herself up a little. "I respect each and every one of my teammates. Even if they may not respect me as much."

"Because you're a bitch," Kenny says. Wendy winces.

"Clyde," Mr Mackey says.

"Y-Yeah?" His lower lip wobbles.

"Do you feel responsible for getting Kenny killed earlier today? Is the guilt eating you alive inside? Are you going to be able to live with yourself, and will you one day, when you are eighty-four and in your retirement bed, remember this day and know you have brought nothing to this world?"

"Um. Maybe. Sorry, Kenny. I didn't mean to get you killed."

"It's okay, Clyde!"

"M'kay… and, Kenny, who do you think is responsible for this challenge loss?"

Kenny shrugs. "I don't fucking know. I was dead, you fucking dumbass."

"It was my fault," Leslie says. "I made the soup. I tried my best. But I let you down…"

"I made the soup," Dog Poo says again. "I killed the rattlesnakes. I found the vegetables."

"Not so," Leslie begins, but Mr Mackey cuts her off.

"Wendy," he says. "What would you say to anyone struggling with who to vote for tonight?"

Wendy rubs her arm. "I'm just going to say it: I'd tell them to stop being a follower, to stop letting yourself be manipulated, and to vote for someone who's actually a threat."

There's a slight pause.

"Seriously," Wendy continues. "Think about what we know. Think about who's running this game. Think about who got rid of Tolkien… just, think about the numbers, and about who's the least valuable to this team. That's all."

"M'kay. Very interesting. And, lastly." Mr Mackey turns to Nichole. "Who do you think made the soup?"

"Erm, I don't know. I don't suppose it matters much, at least, it doesn't really matter to me…"

"I did," Dog Poo says glumly. "I made it. All by myself."

"You did not," Leslie says. "He's lying. He's been doing it this whole time. Hiding in the background, but always there, watching. Like a parasite. You see, it was me who made the soup—"

"No, it wasn't!" Dog Poo exclaims suddenly, and he stands. "I made the fucking soup. I did! While you were all gone, I found the vegetables, I killed the rattlesnakes, I put it all together, I did it!" He blinks fast, looking around at the bemused expressions on his team's faces. "Please. Leslie's lying — vote for her! You have to believe me!"

But nobody says a thing. Wendy looks worriedly at Clyde, who nods. Leslie turns to Wendy, and quite simply, she smiles.

"M'kay," Mr Mackey says. "And with that… it is time to vote."

So, one by one, the team makes their way behind the wall of virtue signalling. Dog Poo goes first, muttering under his breath, quietly shaking. Kenny goes next, then Clyde, then Sheila. Nichole follows after that, then Leslie, before Wendy brings up the rear.

"Alright bros," PC Principal says when everyone has cast their votes. "I'm gonna read out some fuckin' names now, and you're all gonna act terrified. If I do not read your name, you are eliminated, but rest assured, you will be treated with respect."

"Respect hardly makes up for this demeaning elimination format," Wendy says, but PC Principal shushes her.

"The prize today was supposed to be Mr Potato Heads, but they use fuckin' gender-specific language and should all be fuckin' incinerated for not respecting gender minorities! So, instead, the prize is an actual potato."

"It's better than cat food," Clyde says, and Kenny gives an irritated hmph.

"First safe, with zero votes…" PC Principal tosses the potato in his hand. "Nichole Daniels. Congratulations, Nichole. You are living proof that strong, black women can be powerful."

"…Thanks," Nichole says flatly, catching the potato. "I really appreciate it."

"Next safe are Clyde Donovan and Kenny McCormick, who both received zero votes."

They catch their potatoes, but Kenny shoves his beneath his parka and begins chomping on it.

"And the last person with zero votes…" PC Principal tosses the potato. "Wendy Testaburger."

"What?" She catches it. "Wait — what? How can that…" She trails off. Leslie just looks straight ahead.

"Next safe is Kyle's mom," PC Principal says. "Who received only one vote."

"Oh, good." Sheila catches her potato, but she still looks annoyed.

"Now, Dog Poo and Leslie remain," PC Principal says. "Dog Poo, you already have two votes from the viewers. Leslie, did you really make the soup? Let's see what your team thinks. Bros, the third contestant eliminated from the game is…"

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

…

"Dog Poo Petuski. With six total votes."

Dog Poo sighs, as everyone exhales. He stands, looking around at his team. "Sorry, guys. I broke the rules of reality shows. I… got into a fight with another contestant. It was inevitable, really… but I did make that soup."

"Yeah, yeah, tell it to the judicial branch," Sheila says, dismissing him with a wave of her hand.

"Leslie Meyers, you are safe with just two votes," PC Principal says, tossing her the potato. "Dog Poo, do you have any final words?"

"…"

"Then, bro, your time has come to an end. Thank you for playing. Goodbye."

The ground opens, and as it swallows Dog Poo whole, he doesn't even scream.

"Six votes," Wendy mutters, looking down at her shoes. "That doesn't make sense…"

The rest of the team doesn't look too surprised, though. Leslie is first to stand, confidently chomping at her potato. Nichole tries to flash Wendy a glance, but she's far too lost in her thoughts.

"And with that, we reach the end of the chapter," PC Principal says, turning to stare at you again. "Remember, readers, I need a new fuckin' prize, and I need it fast! What are you gonna come up with, hm? See you next time… on PC Does Survivor!"

Votes: Behind the Scenes

Wendy Testaburger: "Dog Poo has two votes already. Taking out Leslie is impossible right now, but if we take out one of her minions…? We stand a chance."

Sheila Broflovski: "I cannot believe Dog Poo would lie to our faces! Leslie's right — he really has done nothing, hasn't he?"

Leslie Meyers: "Dog Poo is entirely uninteresting. He may have made the soup, but around here, I make the rules. Goodbye."

Kenny McCormick: "Kyle's Mom is a bitch."

Clyde Donovan: "If Wendy's right, I'm in trouble. I don't wanna be in trouble! I vote for Dog Poo."

Nichole Daniels: "I don't know what's going on, but I assume Wendy's voting for Leslie. So, I'll vote for her too, I suppose."

Dog Poo Petuski: "I made the soup! I made it with my own two hands — I vote for fucking Leslie!"

(The Readers - Dog Poo x2, Cartman x3, Heidi, Jimmy

Dog Poo - Leslie

Wendy - Dog Poo

Nichole - Leslie

Kenny - Sheila

Leslie - Dog Poo

Clyde - Dog Poo

Sheila - Dog Poo)

With an almighty thunk, Dog Poo lands in the darkness.

"I see…" Nathan drawls. "Another one… has joined us…"

"Oh, great." Tolkien folds his arms, sighing. "I hoped it'd at least be someone who talked. Welcome to being "treated with respect," man."

Dog Poo shrugs, stepping forward to join the others.