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The Reality Show AU!

Title:Some Call This Fun (1/?)
Word Count:1,466
Summary:On a remote Brazilian island, 22 contestants are separated into 2 teams to compete against one another through a series of challenges. But they aren’t the only ones being challenged. A stressed producer, an exasperated doctor, the off-balanced host, a horny intern and an extremely concerned judge all struggle to maintain their faith as their reality show spirals into insanity.

I also posted this to Camp Toccoa.

Okay so here’s the skinny with this AU.

I’m totally addicted to heckling some of the more ridiculous reality shows. But due to the surprising awesomeness of the cartoon Total Drama Island-I realized what a great platform
for comedy the concept is. And I started thinking- what if the BOB guys were all on some ridiculous reality show?

Who would fight? Who would scheme? How would they react to their retarded challenges and how would they get kicked off?

So, despite some reservations, I was like “I’M DOING IT!” and here it is.

Disclaimer: I’m not making any money off of writing this story. It’s entirely fictional and based on the performances given in the HBO miniseries Band of Brothers and not the actual soldiers. Any ideas or challenges borrowed from a reality show belong to the creators of that show, not me. I don’t own anything…so please don’t sue me. I wrote it for your enjoyment so…enjoy!

Off the shore of Brazil, on the beautiful island of **** ****, sits an equally beautiful mansion. And in that mansion are two men…well two men and a series of camera men, producers, security personnel, an intern and only one doctor which is…concerning…anyway these people are all gathered here for a specific reason…mainly to bitch about their newest gig. The pinnacle of modern television. The dirty secret of the American populace. The reality show.

“Wait-all the contestants are dudes? How did THAT happen?”

Lewis Nixon is what one could call a “personality” in that his is a very unique one. He’d started off as a writer for sitcoms and was recruited into reality TV by his producer father. He’d been hosting them ever since.

Richard ‘Dick’ Winters, who is signed on as judge/contestant mentor to the show, likes to think of himself as Nixon’s unspoken (and unpaid) manager. As well as his grossly underappreciated best friend.

He shrugs at Nixon’s question, “From what I can tell all the woman we interviewed refused to sign some clause…”

Nixon nods in sudden understanding at this, “Oh you mean the Decapitation Clause.”

Dick makes a face, “The what now?”

“The Decapitation Clause! You know…the one where if you get decapitated we can’t be held responsible and their family can’t sue us?”

Floyd Talbert, the show’s last remaining intern aka bitch, piped in, “Man you mean we couldn’t find one crazy chick? Not one? I joined this crew to pick up a crazy reality show chick! They always put out!”

“What can I tell you kid?” Nixon smiled, “Them’s the breaks…maybe you'll find a suitably desperate dude?"

Floyd considered this, “Maybe…”

“See? All is well…now go get me some coffee.”

“Man! This is like the 7th time I’ve had to get coffee in the last 30 minutes!”

“Well if you had been smart…you would have quit like all the other interns. Now make with the coffee getting!”

“Damn it!” Floyd walked off grumbling all the way.

Dick watched him go, “Shouldn’t you be a little nicer to him? I mean he IS the last intern left. All the others one ran off when you started to use them as guinea pigs for challenge scenarios.”

“Where’s he gonna go? He’s an intern! He doesn’t have any money. What is he going to swim back to America? He’s our unofficial slave until this is wrapped. Enjoy it.”

The red-headed man rolled his eyes for what would be the first of many times that day. “I can see why none of the women would sign a Decapitation clause. What’s disturbing is that you found 22 guys willing to.”

“Pssh-guys are so easy, plus…they have no shame. This is going to be great!”

“I find your enthusiasm concerning.”

“Ah-you’re no fun.”

Pursing his lips, Dick eyed the typed up piece of paper that a camera man had passed him. “These are the challenges? In this order? I’m going to be honest with you….these are ridiculous.”

Nixon peered over the shoulder of his taller companion, “No not in that order. Oh that last one’s going to be awesome!”

“How much money are they winning?”

“A hundred grand.”

“I wouldn’t even do one of these for a hundred grand.”

Nixon raised a dark eyebrow, “Like that’s so shocking.”

Suddenly a raised voice floated their way,

“That’s the fucking dumbest thing I’ve ever heard! How FUCKING hard is it to name a TV show something that DOESN’T SUCK? You’re reality television writers- WHAT OTHER WRITING DO YOU DO!?”

Dick and Nixon stared at one of their producers with wide eyes.

Harry Welsh was the co-producer of the show and generally a pretty easy going guy, but considering that the shooting was starting tomorrow and the writers still had no name for the show…he was a little tense.

At the point where Harry had pulled back his arm to smash his phone into the ground-Dick jumped in.

“Harry!” He called out to his friend whose raised arm jerked to a halt at the sound of his name- thus saving Harry’s precious Blackberry.

“Oh hey….guys.” He grinned at them sheepishly.

Nixon spread his arms out in confusion, “Um what the fuck man? Who pissed in your coffee?”

Just then Floyd turned up with Nixon’s coffee.

“I only do that to you.” The intern promised before walking off.

Nixon eyed the cup suspiciously before shrugging, taking a drink and walking over to his producer. “So seriously Harry? What was that?”

The obviously exasperated man’s face twisted into contempt, “Those dipshits still haven’t come up with a name for the show and we fucking shoot tomorrow!”

Nixon’s jaw dropped.

Dick turned to him, “What are you so worried about? All we have to do is a voice over or possibly shoot some extra scenes.”

“It’s not that.” The host choked out.

Harry seemed to calm at Nixon’s newfound horror, which wasn’t as surprising as it should be, “What then?”

“I think that little bitch really pissed in my coffee.”

“How did we score this place anyway?” Dick asked Harry as they did a final walk through of the house to check all the hidden cameras in the rooms. “I thought the island was strictly used for research.”

“Some rich douche built a big ass mansion here under false pretense- when Sink found out he blackmailed him into selling it cheap. So now we can be here under false pretense. Not that anyone will care once the show’s over.”

Nixon smiled at the thought of their head producer playing dirty, “Tricky old bastard.”

“But do we really want to be this isolated? That could be dangerous.” Dick pointed out. The other two just turned to stare at him pointedly. “Oh right- that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Where’s the fun without the danger?” Nixon asked.

“You all are horrible. Well except you Dick of course.”

The three men turned to see their only doctor, a young French woman named Renee, regarding them distastefully.

Dick smiled triumphantly at the other two, “See? I’m her favorite.”

Renee laughed, “I just wanted to let you know that my my infirmary is fully functional although I hope I do not need to use it.”

“Well you’re going to have to use it to patch up Talbert when I finally catch the prick.” Nixon growled.

The doctor rolled her eyes in amusement.

“If you must know- he’s hanging out by the pool.” Having said that she walked off.

Nixon grinned at his friends, “See- she’s a little sadistic.”

“So what time are the contestants showing up tomorrow?” Dick asked Harry as Nixon slinked off to confront their intern.

“They’re all on the island now, but we’re bringing them in by car, 4 at a time, around noon tomorrow.”

“Have they already met?”

“No way- they’re separated.”


“Because you don’t want to miss the initial meeting! It’s incredibly important to catch their REAL reactions to one another. Listen-you let me worry about all that junk and you just prepare for your job.”

“Which is what exactly?”

“Keep Nix sane and make sure nobody dies.”

“Oh….that sounds simple enough.”

They turned as laughter and screaming began to erupt from outside. Walking out to the pool they saw a crowd gathering around Nixon, who was sitting on top of Floyd, a pair of scissors dangerously close to Talbert’s precious hair.


“Make me believe it!


“You know what to say.”


“Good intern.”

Dick was struck by the overwhelming feeling that his job would be anything but simple.

Well as Nixon would say- them’s the breaks. Whatever that meant.

Hopefully the contestants would be saner than the crew…..

A/N: They won’t be. But Dick can dream right? So I decided not to do it in a script style despite the fact that there will be a lot of characters. Mostly because I feel it takes away from the person speaking and the context of what they’re saying. Plus I don’t want it to be so cracked out that it doesn’t have some element of a point to it.

Next time: We meet the contestants, the contestants meet each other, and we find out the rules of the game. But not the name….because as Harry pointed out about the writers…they suck.


( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Jan. 14th, 2009 06:58 am (UTC)
I like it. :) It's a very good start and I can't wait to read more. *g*
Jan. 14th, 2009 07:17 am (UTC)
Wooh! Glad to hear that...I wanted to start off a little slow, to like- ease people into the idea.
Jan. 21st, 2009 05:34 pm (UTC)
Intern really is just another word for slave. *laugh* Okay, I'm intrigued. Let's see where this goes...

( 3 comments — Leave a comment )