Total Drama Action (Lewis McLean)

Million Dollar Babies

[yes. these are canonically the kind of dreams lewis has.]

I was abruptly woken up by these super loud trumpets. 

Safe to say, I freaked out.

"MARY'S BACK!? W-WHERE!?" In fact, I was so startled that I hit my head on the empty bed over the top of me, and then fell onto the floor. I groaned in pain, sitting up, and rubbing my forehead. "Ah, crap. . . !" "Dude, who the hell is Mary?" Duncan asked mockingly, which earned a glare from me. "I. . . uh. . . I don't know. . ." He clicked his tongue, before raising an eyebrow. "Hm. . . Sounds familiar. Kinda." "Why does it matter what I was dreaming about, anyway!?" I stood up with a grunt, and leaned against the now-empty bunk bed.

The trumpets rang out again, and this time, Harold was startled by them. "I- I can't take the shelling anymore, Sarge! I- I just can't take it. . ." He began sobbing into his hands, much to Duncan and my confusion. "Harold. . . if you've added trumpets to your snoring, it's definitely time for you to die." He said, which was followed by Justin. "That's it, I'm moving to Canada. Except I'm already there. . ."

I frowned at him, before getting back into my bed, and turning towards the wall.

Maybe I can actually get comfortable again. . .

Unlike everyone else, who got up and walked outside, I was actually intending to stay in bed today. Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be Chris' plan. He was outside, being as loud as a marching band was, not to mention the screaming coming from the competitors. Believe me, I tried to block it out. I covered my head with my pillow, but I could still hear it.

With a groan, I got up, and walked out the trailer door. "Alright, alright! Just sue me for trying to get a break around here!" "I'll try." Courtney said with a glare. At that point, Chris found it appropriate to begin speaking, and cut out the stupid instruments. "Today, you're all going to give 200% in our exciting sports movie challenge!" Harold shrugged casually. "You are aware that 200% is a mathematical impossibility-" But. . . he was met with a face full of spaghetti.

"Suck that 'ghetti back, you loveable underdogs, destined to come back from certain failure! We've got a training run!" Chris said as he walked away, leaving the contestants to get dressed for today's challenge. I  blinked, before groaning. "I was woken up, by some type of crazy marching band crap. . . for THIS?! You have got to be kidding me."

Unfortunately, they weren't. So, me and the boys all got dressed in the same trailer, 'cause we were comfortable with each other's bodies, although I really think that there has got to be a better way of phrasing that. . . anyway, we headed out to the set of the first challenge, and it was just a bunch of Astroturf on a rugby field.

While everyone else was doing laps on the rugby field, suckers, I was in the bleachers, trying to actually relax for once in a while. Now, I just KNOW I have not been doing that a lot. "That all you got, sports fans?! Man up! It's time for more action!" Chris announced, to the panting, sweaty teenagers who were near-passing out on the ground. 

"Three cups of spaghet ti followed by a 3K jog? All I'm ready for is a nap!" Leshawna complained, before seeing the fake grass. "Wha-? What is this, plastic lawn?!" "Uh, it's Astroturf, helloooo? It's a set! Today's competition is gonna require sweat, guts, heart, and sweat." Heather raised a brow. "You said 'sweat' twice." "That's 'cause it's not just your sweat you'll be dealing with! There's Chef's sweat, too. . . 'cause you'll be pushing him the length of the field. And he just ate a huge jar of jalapeno peppers, so he's spraying like a gym-class shower."