Monday, Oct. 07, 2002 - 12:09 a.m.
So, it�s the first day on the island. I had always assumed these Survivor things were actually filmed on very convincing movie sets. Damn, was I surprised when I discovered they really do expect us to sleep outdoors. Eh, the weather�s nice, the scenery is to die for, and I�ll probably have an honest-do-deity tan for the first time in my life.
Surprisingly, I wasn�t the first to arrive. As the sand settled after being scattered about from the helicopter that dropped me off, I removed the blindfold placed on me earlier and saw a rather pissed-off guy kicking a backpack standing under a tree in the distance.
�Unfuckingbelievable.� The guy just stood there looking dejected, cursing the bag and assuming a pose reminiscent of Dante Hicks from Clerks in a very �I�m not even supposed to be here� kind of way. He turned around to acknowledge my presence and started gesturing wildly.
"So, I brought my CD player as my one luxury-type item, or whatever. Guess what. Just guess. No batteries. No batteries! I have an electric plug for it, but that�ll do me a hell of a lot of good, eh?� He quickly caught himself, stood up straight and extended his hand. �Sorry, I�m Scud.�
�Luxury item?� I questioned as we shook hands. �We could bring a luxury item? Fuck. And here I thought I was being all bad-ass sneaking a liter bottle of Jack in my bag. Nice to meet you, I�m Matt.�
�Yeah, we�re gonna get along.�
We sat under the tree and bullshitted for a while, until we saw another helicopter in the distance. It landed, and out came three other people. As the figures became more recognizable, I came to the immediate realization that this was going to be a fun time. One was a woman who had all her possessions strapped into a stroller, being careful not to let it tip over in the sand, who was the first to introduce herself.
�Hey there, I�m Alternamommy.� She confidently asserted. I couldn�t help but stare quizzically at the overstuffed stroller. �Oh, the luggage. Right. Well, my husband had to leave town at the same time I had to fly here and he took the �real� luggage. I dragged this out of the closet. I think it works. It could�ve been worse - the babysitter could�ve fell through.�
�Very... alterna of you,� I quipped, trying to be witty and horribly failing.
�Right...� she replied, giving me an odd sideways glance as she made her rounds introducing the others in her party. Behind her was a pensive looking girl carrying minimal luggage. I found her interesting because of the strange scratches on her arms.
�I�m Hardrain,� she extended her hand to me. �I work with animals.� I looked at her curiously. �The scratches. They�re from the animals.� She walked a few feet from us to sit on the ground and observe the group, paying great attention to her surroundings and occasionally jotting down notes in a spiral-bound notebook.
I caught up with the third of the �newcomers� as she was conversing with Scud about why, no matter how hard we all may try, will never be considered natives of this island. I sat down next to them and introduced myself. The woman immediately stopped, smiled broadly and introduced herself as Magpie. She asked me if I had ever been to San Fransisco, and I informed her that I had never ventured to Frisco.
�We�re gonna have to talk sometime.� She said sternly, but still with a smile. She looked off in the distance, saying to nobody in particular, �I wonder if my boyfriend remote will reach the bay area from all the way out here.�
�Wait a minute,� Alternamommy said, slowly scanning the group. �Wasn�t there a fourth who flew in with us. It was a guy... he kept scratching his balls and obsessing over his semen.�
�What the...� Magpie said as she peered around the lush greenery surrounding the tree that had become our makeshift hang-out spot. �Shhhh... I hear someone!�
The entire group became silent as we heard hushed chanting coming from the tree. I pushed aside a fern leaf to discover Chrome Magnum Man, eyes closed and kneeling in front of a life-size cut-out of Kevin Smith..
�Chasing Amy, Dogma, ommmmmmmm...� he chanted in a monotonous but soothing tone. �Clerks, Jay and Silent Bob...� He stopped as soon as he realized he had an audience. �Would ya mind? Practicing my religion here. Thanks.�
We eventually ended up in a mini-circle, talking about food when the next set of people flew in and were dropped off. While the last group was silent as they waited for the helicopter to fly away, these people were making a hell of a lot of commotion. I couldn�t quite tell if they were laughing or trying to kill each other.
As the dust settled, I realized just what I was witnessing. It was a four-person dogpile on top of a small green and white box. The woman at the bottom of the pile was kicking and screaming at the top of her lungs �I sat in a drive thru for God knows how many hours for these... get the hell off of me!!�
As the folks realized they had an audience, they froze in place and quickly got up. The owner of the box, now vaguely identifiable as what used to be two dozen Krispy Kremes was the first to walk over.
�I�m Angeline-is,� She proclaimed to us.
�Angeline is what?� I asked, a little confused as to the nature of her name. I heard a few frustrated sighs at the naivete of my question. Dammit, I�m already the geeky kid.
�Angeline is without doughnuts,� she said, obviously crestfallen. �That�s what I get for bringing pastries to a desert island.�
The rest of that group came to join us in the circle. A confident and refreshingly blunt woman in striking black glasses introduced herself as Loudwoman. Behind her was a young-ish looking girl named Ms-M, carrying a softball bat and ball. At the back of the pack was Raw-voice, spitting sand out of her mouth as a wind-up walking penis fell from her bag and started walking circles around the group.
�It�s a gift from my grandma,� she explained. �Don�t ask.�
Just as we all stopped laughing uncontrollably at the idea of a walking penis in our midst, a bright blue paddle boat like you�d usually find at a beach resort washed ashore. In the seats were Gingerbug and Kinetix, passed out and dehydrated. I remembered seeing in the old Looney Tunes cartoons that anytime a character was passed out, they�d pour some kind of alcohol in their mouths, so I sacrificed my libations for the good of my fellow castaways. Both perked right up and were talking a mile a minute almost instantly.
�I knew it was a bad idea to paddle here all the way from England,� Gingerbug insisted. �I ran out of drinkable water somewhere off the coast of Spain, then this guy just dropped out of the sky wearing a cape.�
�I�m a superhero,� Kinetix insisted. �I just misjudged the distance I�d have to fly, that�s all.�
What we didn�t see in all the commotion was July rappelling from the helicopter behind us, so we were all a bit surprised when he crept up behind the crowd proclaiming, "Smile!� as he shot a candid photo of the group.
Loudwoman immediately recognized him and excitedly asked �What are you doing here?�
�I have no idea,� he replied. �But it�s gonna be a fun ride.�
Scud was still a bit pissed about his now inoperable CD player. As Kinetix came to, he walked over to Scud and picked up the stereo, looking at it curiously from every angle.
�Anybody got a bobby pin, a stick of gum, and a bit of uranium?� he asked casually. �I know how to make a crude battery.�
I think July had the right idea. This truly is gonna be a fun ride.
