Give me Anything but Signals that are Mixed (2)

The Chefshank Redemption

Last week on Total Drama Action, the dry desert heat baked our favorite partners like roadkill on the blacktop. But crispy bottoms or not, they still had to mount their ancient steed, from a hundred-foot platform! But that wasn't all. A calf-roping contest has the teams lasso each other. When Trent's crazy love act led him to throw challenges for Gwen, she gave him the old heave-ho. And then she got busted by his furious teammates, which led to some Total Drama. Well, poor old deputy Trent found himself hitching a ride on the 3:10 to Looneyville. The Screaming Gaffers won the west, and only eleven remain! Stay tuned and find out who will win this week.

The sleeping boys were woken up by the sound of an airhorn, making them jump up in shock. Owen wiped the crud out of his eyes and Duncan quickly jumped out of his bunk.

"Wiss dibs," He announced. "I called it."

He wrapped his hand around the doorknob and pulled, but was unable to open it. His brows furrowed in confusion and he pulled again, using two hands this time. He looked over to Justin, who was in a sleeping mask and had a small fan blowing on him, preventing sweat.

"Hey," He called out. "A little help?"

"This is day twelve of my manicure," Justin scoffed out, wiggling his fingers. "To risk any more cuticle damage would be madness."

Owen jumped off his bed, yawning and heading towards the door. He stretched out his arms with a groan, looking confident.

"Dudes, I got this."

Harold gasped as Duncan and Justin backed away, watching Owen in worry.

"Rule number one," Harold said to the confessional. "Do not wake Owen's beast within in the morning."

Owen placed both hands on the knob and began to pull, groaned at the strength he used to pull on the door.

"Owen, we had cowboy beans last night! You are risking a serious toxic leak!" Harold warned.

"That's all I am to you?" Owen asked, hurt. "A human fart machine?"

"We just value our lives is all," Duncan said. "All right, big guy?"

Owen cooed, bringing the remaining boys into a hug.

"Aw, I love you guys," He said with a smile. "And I promise I'll never blow another morning-"

He was interrupted by a loud fart.

"Starting now."

He farted again.

"I mean now."

Meanwhile, the girls were experiencing the same problem, brainstorming ways to open the door; Gwen was beginning to panic.

"They've gotta open the door, right?" She asked, pacing. "I have claustrophobia."

"Oh boo hoo," Heather snapped, pulling on the door again. "This trailer is as tight as the space between Lindsay's ears!"

"Aw, thank you!" Lindsay said with a blush.

"Up there!" Gwen exclaimed, pointing at the escape hatch on the roof of the trailer. "Maybe one of us can squeeze through."

Gwen inspected each girl before stopping at Heather, smiling over at her.

"What?" She asked, confused at the creepy smile Gwen was giving her.

"Ever since the whole awful Trent thing went down, I've just been waiting for karma to bite me in the ass," Gwen confessed. "But what could I do? He was my weakness, my Achilles heel. We all have one. And luckily, Heather has a whole bunch of useful ones. Glittery objects, new hair products, shameless flattery."