American Mustelid Alpha
Episode 6, “Don’t Die Frozen Over” - Part 2
The sun sets between the mountainous range as the van drops the four winning mustelids of the white team in front of the ostentatious chalet they won the right to sleep in.
“This is like we were in Switzerland, are you kidding me?” William blurts out, looking at the stone and wood façade of the luxury property.
“If there was a reward to win, it was this one,” Kenneth nods to the weasel, inserting the keys to open the heavy door. “You ready?”
The group walks in with their luggage in tow, immediately marveling at the exquisite wooden furnitures and the sizzling flames dancing about in the stone-stacked fireplace. “Can you even believe what it’d be like to sleep out there?” the badger asks the group, pointing outside the big window as it starts to fog up with the heat of the interiors.
“Holy canoodling, Batman. Like, I was just happy that I didn’t have to be thrown to my own mercy in these cold clammy woods, but this chalet is making me feel like I’m the Wolf of Wall Street in my winter home. And hey...” *the stoat spruces up his leather jacket* “Tell me a better way to break my last reward in...” *chuckle*
~John, 36, Stoat, Jailer
The group scatters about, starting to explore every room of the luxurious abode. “This is unreal, guys…” Arron says, passing a paw over the granite counter-top of one of the bathrooms and opening the hot water knob to feel the water rushing from the tap.
“Hey, ‘Ron...” Kenneth calls for the honey badger, who comes in to find him bouncing on all fours on the California King size bed. “How many celebrities you think have fucked on this?”
“I ain’t helping you join that list…” the firefighter chuckles, as he sits on a large, comfy armchair next to the bed. “But sure, I bet a decent number. Wouldn’t mind coming back with Dominique if I ended up getting the big prize,” he grins.
William pokes in the room, in awe at the soft, furry covers. “Man, if you told me they are made of real fur… This is too much to take in one sitting.” the weasel chuckles, laying down on his back. “I don’t think I’m getting up anytime ever…”
“Guys!” John calls over, peeking outside from the upper floor deck. “I found the good stuff!” the stoat grins, holding a champagne bottle in one of his paws and flûtes in the other as he gestures to the other three mustelids. “And wait till you see the hot tub!”
“Oh, do we get a hot tub?” Kenneth asks excitedly, chucking away the upper layer of his thermals. “Hang on whatever, I’ll wait for y’all there!”
“This is pretty much the best night ever.” *Kenneth is shown as he drags through the snow, clad only in his bathrobe, his eyes beaming as he takes sight of the bubbling hot tub* “Forget the Burrow, the repeated losses, being told over and over that I was hexing any team I got on… Today’s different. Now I’m here, sharing one hell of an experience with some cool dudes in this game. I don’t know, man, but this feeling… I’m feeling like one hell of an Alpha.”
~Kenneth, 24, American Badger, Roofer/CrossFit Instructor
“To the white team!” Kenneth leads the cheer, putting up his flûte as the four mustelids soak in the hot tub. The entire group joins in, glasses cranking before they throw them back - the badger immediately grabbing the Veuve Clicquot magnum bottle to offer a refill.
***
“Now what in the fresh hell is this...” Andrew mutters, as the losing team walked up to a flat patch of land surrounded by pine trees, vaguely demarcated as the place the four would have to set their camp in.
“Let’s not waste time, we have to get the tent up,” Eddie replies, immediately getting in charge of the operations.
“Hold up…” Chayne asks. “Did you say tent? Not ‘tents’?”
The giant otter rummages in the huge container of supplies the production allowed the group to take over, coming up with a packed up sleeping tent and a huge, deflated air mattress. “I don’t see any other tents in here,” he says, matter-of-factly, as he shows the rest of the group the insulated sleeping bags. “But there should be more than enough space for us four to sleep in here.”
“I just came out of a duel in this game, and being in this position once again sucks. I needed to rebound but the numbers just didn’t add up.” *sighs* “My main focus is surviving this night, and it’s clear my team needs me to try to placate this low point and make this terrain liveable. I can’t let these guys out on their luck.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
The hog badger gets to his knees and starts clearing the ground of leaves and rubble, compressing the heap of snow where the group is meant to camp up in order to ensure better insulation. “Last thing we need is to sleep on top of a darn anthill.” Z snorts.
“Aren’t they out of business this time of the year?” Andrew shrugs, as he helps Eddie work out the instructions for building the tent.
“Well if you lay on me and piss me off, then I’d be like business is wide open, nah?” the mohawked badger quips. “Ain’t riskin’ it!”
“Guys, let’s focus…” Eddie interrupts the pair, bringing the attention back to the task at hand. “I feel we should split tasks if we want to have the camp set before sundown. Z, since you got some camping experience, do you mind helping me set this up?” he asks the mechanic, pointing at the heap of pegs and spikes lying at his feet. “While Andrew, I reckon you know how to set up a campfire, right?”
“Sure, do y’all want to eat now?” the polecat asks back.
The giant otter shakes his head. “We need to get some water boiling,” he says. “The most important thing is that we stay as dry as we can, quickly scrub off today’s sweat and get into dry clothes before we bunk up. Plus, having hot water will help us stay warm tonight,” he says, tossing a few metal bottles out of the heap of supplies. “These will also be useful if someone wakes up with a full bladder…”
“Ew...” Chayne instinctively replies, flattening his ears.
“I mean, nothing I haven’t done in an emergency during a road trip,” Andrew chuckles.
The giant otter shrugs his shoulders, as he starts to lay in the foundations for the tent. “And we’ll see how much you’ll want to head out in the snow after you’ve gotten decently warm in here,” he says. “Just be sure to label those bottles, trust me, you don’t wanna mistake ‘em...”
“I’m thanking all my lucky stars we got Eddie with us out here. For this to be my first real camping experience, this situation is nothing short of extreme. *Andrew is shown giving Chayne directions as they use their drywood supply to build up a campfire* But all in all, it’s just a night - just one more obstacle I have to overcome if I want to prove I can win over all these guys.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
“I reckon y’all don’t get any qualms about personal space anytime soon, right?” Z says as he looks at the pretty close placement of the four sleeping bags, a huge air mattress having been inflated and set on the bottom of the four-season tent. “I call one on the edge!”
“Guess I volunteer to shield the pig from you two,” Eddie shrugs, still rummaging through the supplies. The giant otter doesn’t seem to be wasting a second, immediately heading over to help Andrew and Chayne after setting up the tent in a matter of minutes.
“With your bulk, you gonna squeeze us outta the tent, easy...” Chayne snarks, as he focuses on feeding the small hopes of a fire he and Andrew started.
“Just keep it going,” the lutrine nods as he crouches over the flame. “Add in a few bigger sticks and put what you didn’t use around the fire, so that it stays dry and we can add to it as we go.” Soon enough, the four mustelids are huddling around a huge campfire, a huge pot of water already warming up on top of it as the group soaks in the heat.
“I didn’t want one of ya to go home, to be honest...” Z says, somewhat dejected and shivering.
“Me neither, dude,” Andrew coughs. “They managed to set us up against each other, and there’s shit we can do about it.”
“It is the nature of the game,” Eddie nods sagely, not wanting to come off as hurt considering he was fresh out of a fairly emotional duel. “I do wish Crispin was still in here instead of one of those, but like… we’re not sending people out to death. We signed for this to fight against the strongest mustelids in America, but this doesn’t mean we have to keep it up after it’s over,” he says. “And if you ask me, I think we should use this time to plan for our next move against those four.”
“I would agree to whatever gets me back winning challenges…” the polecat shudders. “What can we even do though?”
“Stick to each other, for a first,” Eddie shrugs. “Ken and Arron have banded together for a good while, and we can’t keep empowering them.”
“To be honest, I would rather get rid of John first. Somehow he has stuck to the winning team like glue whoever they be, haven’t you noticed?” Chayne asks, sneering. “If he could, he would tug on your rudder and hang in there as long as you keep feeding him wins.”
The lutrine nods. “He would suck literally anyone’s dick if it got him one step higher in the totem pole. Did it to me at first, then jumped to the badgers as soon as he got the chance,” he says, opening the lid of the pot to check the progress. “The less we trust him, the better…”
Chayne looks down. “But if you give him the chance, he’d be like...” the marten goes down to grab and tug at the lutrine’s tail in a half-embrace, making Andrew and Z snicker at the sight.
“You can cuddle on my rudder all you want later on,” Eddie snickers, playfully worming the long appendage around the marten’s neck before snagging it away from him with a twist. “Guys, fetch me the bottles…” he says, motioning to the water boiling on the pot. “A couple of these in the tent and it’ll warm up better than a heater…”
“Sure, we acting like it’s all cute and nice together, but the reality is starting to settle in that one of us is going to go home. Z has been captain three times and has been a crafty son of a pig. Eddie might have been on a duel before, but he remains one of the most feared musties in here - and if we get more water challenges, we’re doomed against him. If I manage to save myself and, at the same time, make sure Eddie or Z go home, it’ll be a big deal to cement my placement in this house.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
***
Meanwhile, as the four losers are seething and shivering around the fireplace, the winning team is sinking their teeth into a lavish dinner specially made for them: enough roasted chicken to fuel a squad, alongside buttered mashed potatoes and roasted winter vegetables. The four mustelids decide to complete their chalet experience by having dinner in front of their own fireplace.
“Guys, just got thinking…” John perks up, his mouth half-full, as he shoots a knowing glance at the tableful. “Isn’t it ironic AND satisfying as fuck that the three surviving dads won the toughest challenge?”
“Ironic how?” Arron questions. “You’re saying that as if it was a disadvantage,” the honey badger takes a drink of his champagne. “It’s more so an advantage if you ask me!”
William nods along. “I’m with Arron here. I know for a fact I wouldn’t have gotten anywhere as far without the thought of my family pushing me forward. Even more so today,” he says, reminiscing the hard time he had on the skis during the first portion of the challenge.
“But admit it,” John looks at the other three. “Many of the guys we got in with looked us down cuz we had kids or were older.” he grins.
“Totally, but look at it this way...” Arron turns to the stoat. “We’re helping fight a ton of prejudices about what a young mustie can do with his life. Building a family doesn’t mean you automatically stop kicking tail… On the contrary, it can even help you get into a higher gear. Ain’t for everyone, but if it is for you, it really is.”
All the while, Kenneth sits back on his chair and turns his focus on the hearty meal, his long hair left unkempt and slightly wet after the hot tub dip. Chugging flûtes of champagne as if it was water, the badger quickly dissociated from the trio, who went on and on about their own kids, and their own fathers not long after. William talked about how his father taught him about his Honduran heritage and how important it was for him to keep his traditions alive, Arron reminisced about his own childhood stories, and John recounted in excruciating detail about all the Blakes of the past and their milestones.
“And no lie, uncle Lewis was the mayor of Tucson. And I’m talking Christmases and New Years at the Arizona State Capitol, the whole family!” John elaborates with some theatrics.
“What about you, Ken?” Arron suddenly asks his friend, noticing how removed from the scene the usually cheerful badger has gotten. “What’s your story?”
“I mean, I really didn’t wanna like, cut your conversation...” the roofer puts up his paws. “I’m 24, I’m a bit too young to be discussing having kids of my own, right?”
“Who says?” William interrupts him with a smirk. “At your age, I’d already had Samuel and Merlyn…”
“I meant work-wise and in my situation, Will. I know I can ‘father up’ anytime,” Kenneth chuckles, albeit keeping a serious tone. “Let’s just say I don’t like to… talk about my family a lot,” his tail flicks in stress.
“I mean, you did mention moving out as a kid from Virginia to Philly…” Arron shrugs. “Has it something to do with that?”
Kenneth sighs, refilling his champagne and sipping after a pause. “Unlike you guys, I didn’t have a… proper dad figure, so to say. I’m talking about, like... I remember so many times he beat me and my mom.”
William perks his ears, his jaw dropping. “Dude… you serious?”
“Serious as a stroke,” Kenneth quips in a deadpan tone. “Wasn’t until I was like, ten or so, that we could get away from that. It was after a bad one where he broke her hand, and left her in a cast for months,” the badger shrugs in his shoulders, moving a strand of wet hair out of his face with a flick of his neck.
Arron gasps. “What even?”
“She drove me to the hospital with her after that fight, and it was right then and there that I realized… this shit wasn’t normal. This was not how life has to be.”
~Kenneth, 24, American Badger, Roofer/CrossFit Instructor
“She had to learn how to write and like… function again with two hands, yanno? And the literal minute my dad went to work after she got better, Mom was like ‘aight, we heading the fuck out’. Took all our shit and drove to Philly that same night, staying with aunts there in the meantime.”
Even the usually stoic and cold stoat is enthralled in the badger’s story. “Man, what the fuck? And... has he tried to retaliate to you or her?” John asks.
“He did not, thank fuck for that,” the badger scoffs. “As soon as we were out, he was out… I don’t want to be pitied up for this, but see where I’m getting at? Growing up as the only man in our household, with mom still suffering from the divorce and whatever, I sorta had to... become my own father, you know? I am still like, pissed, I feel shit is not solved- ” he shrugs, lowering his head, struggling not to break down in front of the others.
“It’s fine, brother,” the firefighter leans over, trying to console his friend. “I really shouldn’t have asked…”
*pause* “Coming from a working-class family dedicated to construction, it’s obvious that a kid wants to pick up whatever his father does in order to please him, right? And once he was removed from my life and left alone with my mom, I was pretty much stuck in this job, especially since I found myself being the family man at ten and having to make up for a lot of situations where dad wasn’t there.” *briefly looks down* “That’s a huge part of who I am today, but also why I’m dead set on cementing my own path and move as far away from his as I can.”
~Kenneth, 24, American Badger, Roofer/CrossFit Instructor
William stands up, putting a paw on the badger’s shoulder. “You’re good, it’s all good. You’re brave for telling us that.”
“Say what you need,” John nods. “This shit just doesn’t fly, it shouldn’t. That scumbag better wish he doesn’t cross me.”
“Thanks guys. I really mean it,” Kenneth says, clearing his eyes from tears. “Again, you couldn’t have known about this, so don’t beat yourself over asking. This is all in the past now, I’m just focusing on being someone in life.”
“And you are,” Arron cuts his friend.
“Ken’s story is a sobering, but important reminder that there is more to being the top mustelid than just whatever show or strength or bravado we can put up.” *the weasel is shown consoling Kenneth* “While all that is important, we need to be role models, we cannot let that search for the top letting up become toxic and kill everything around us in the process. The real key to being an Alpha is being the best fur you can be, and that ain’t just on the physical.”
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
“You sure know a way to bust a room’s balls with a story, Ken,” John jokes, stepping back up. “Gift of the gab,” the stoat laughs, trying to lighten the mood as he gathers everyone else’s dishes.
“You jerk...” Kenneth chuckles, shaking his head. “I was perfectly fine with having you three keeping at your teatime stories, you know?” he asks.
“It’s just jossin’, badger,” the jailer shrugs, returning to the group. “Who up to go testing our kingsize beds?”
Arron winks at Kenneth. “Sure, lead the way, brother,” the honey badger says. Soon the whole group of four make their way to one of the ostentatious beds, each room more surprising than the last. Arron waited just at the right moment the stoat was next to his own bed.
“Hey Johnny...” the firefighter quips, not long after lounging at him on top of his bed with a playful wrestling lock.
“Hey!” the jailer manages to utter, one second before getting pinned by over two hundred pounds of honey badger. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“It’s just jossin’, stoat,” Arron chuckles. “And why ya two just staring? Come help out!” Soon the full group is on top of John, the entire team playfully rough-housing the jailer as he fruitlessly complains and asks for help.
***
“You call this stew, but a mug of my own piss would be tastier…” Z grumbles, nonetheless gulping the last remains of his bowl. “Couldn’t you let me at least put in some of them kidney beans there?”
“Not while in my sleeping vicinity you ain’t!” Eddie points at the hog badger with his spoon, staring down at him. “It tastes like that just cuz you didn't want to put the canned bacon and even if, this is luxury compared to combat zone rations. And if you want to have some energy in you by tomorrow morning, I suggest you take it in and try keeping it down without a yap…”
“Fine… but let me go for seconds. I need to warm the gut,” the mechanic says, serving himself up again. “And you two, cityfolk? Want more?” he looks at Andrew and Chayne, both looking more busy trying not to freeze up.
Andrew lets out a visible chill. “To be frank, I just want to get in the tent and bunk up,” he says, giving an off look to Eddie who’s sitting next to the campfire without the smallest sign of flinching. “I dunno how can you take this so well, dude… Feel like my balls have shriveled up to peas in here!”
“What makes you think mine ain’t?” the lutrine retorts almost immediately, Zakee shooting a loud laugh at the quip. “I’m just better trained to take in the cold. Try doing the Winter Alcatraz crossing swim with just a wetsuit on and tell me how soon you can get your thing to work properly again…”
Chayne shrugs it off, unable to stop the shivering. “New York can get th-this way sometimes… but when your work requires you to be half-naked and flaunting it, at least we got assurance we won’t go to the b-balcony!”
“Ya likely still are butt-naked after your shift is over…” the hog badger quips. “And don’t act like ya don’t know what I’m talking about. I’ve gone to enough bars in Houston to know how it works…”
“T-to enough bars of the ones I work in? You know how they w-work, Greasy?” Chayne raises an eyebrow, smirking.
Zakee shrugs off the tease. “More like gays, straights and anything in between behave all the same when they horizontal,” he says casually. “Besides, it’s way easier to pick up girls in a gay bar, and the music’s better too…”
The three stare back at the hog badger. “Hey, when y’all serve the strongest booze and the best prices, I’m in!” he oinks.
As the group lets out a hearty laugh, Eddie tries to bring back the order. “Alright, guys… I think we’ve taken enough cold for tonight. Pull out some dry clothes and tuck yourselves in while I put out the fire,” he says, filling in a couple more bottles with the hot water that remained on the stove.
The hog badger doesn’t need to be told twice, immediately getting into the tent to dress up for the night. Chayne tugs at Andrew’s arm, a sly smile on his face as they walk out Eddie’s sight.
“Got an idea, call it a favor return…” Chayne winks at Andrew, whispering. “Might need some help just in case.”
*the otter is shown screwing up bottle after bottle of boiling water, before dousing out the fire and making sure no embers are left burning* “In the end, it’s a bit of a… humbling experience. I rather be in the chalet but eh, there could have been worse people to be stuck here with...”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“Right now?” Andrew asks, with Chayne nodding. Both take steps towards the fireplace, where Eddie was musing in the camera.
“Sometimes the path to the victory has bumps, and I guess it’s one that I need to pass before I get to wi-”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“Yo, Eddie!” Chayne curtly interrupts the otter’s confessional. “You wanna know a Burrow secret?”
The lutrine suddenly turns towards the marten. “Uh… what?” he asks, a puzzled look on his face. “Don’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”
“Come on, it’s a hot secret...” Chayne says, going closer to the otter’s ear as if to say something. What the otter didn’t expect was to have the blonde marten lick his cheek with a wide swap of his tongue.
“Dude, the fuck?” Eddie pulls back at the bartender’s playful attack, immediately turning to him with an irked look on his face. “When did I ask to get my face slobbered on?”
Andrew can’t help but bursting into laughter at the scenario and Eddie’s protesting.“That’s what you get back for being all tease, Mr. Pec Dance! Teasin’ leads to the marten gettin’ his receipts!” Chayne chortles.
Despite himself, the lutrine lets out a chuckle - the memories of his impromptu “show” back in the barracks coming back to him. “Oh, you want an encore? Is that it?” he taunts the marten. “I reckon someone’s eager to go to the tent... ”
Chayne chuckles. “I just waited for the right moment to return the favor, sea man...” he nods, turning to Andrew. “Taste’s kinda fishy, though...”
“Joke’s on you, dude,” the polecat shrugs, the tiniest hint of a smirk on his muzzle. “Can you imagine how’d it be like to gulp down a muzzleful of…”
“Will you two just shut up?” Eddie raises his voice in a mockingly indignant tone. “You had your fun, and you two are lucky I’m good with ya.” Chayne and Andrew can’t stop smirking as they leave the lutrine to his tasks, crouching into the tent where Z has already wormed his way into a sleeping bag.
“It is cold in here. Like, really fuckin’ cold.” *the night vision camera shows the four mustelids tossing and turning in their bags, struggling to fall asleep* “I don’t even dare moving, ‘cause this is gonna waste up more of my body heat. And getting to Individual with signs of frostbite ain’t all that high in my priority list.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“I can’t fuckin’ sleep,” Andrew mutters drowsily, his face buried into the edge of his bag, stuck in between the cold that permeated his body and the loud snoring of the mohawked hog badger. “How the hell did he manage to go out like a light?”
“What’s going on?” Chayne asks back, startling the polecat.
“Between Z sounding like a fucking audio feedback and this snow, I feel like I’m gonna die...” Andrew mutters.
Eddie rolls on his back, turning towards the other two. “Guys, if you keep that up, nobody but the pig is getting any sleep tonight. Ain’t you got anything to cover your ears with?”
“Spare clothes or dirty laundry?” Chayne suggests halfheartedly. “Iunno, Eddie. It’ll pass, promise.”
“The cold won’t, though…” Andrew mutters. “I thought you were joking about the personal space thing.” the polecat tries to inch away from the rest of the mustelids as much as he can, without touching the cold tent outside.
“It’s no use, Drew. Cold won’t go away unless we all huddle, like they do in the movies...” Chayne replies.
The polecat scoffs. “Of course you’d be the one suggesting that...”
“Marten boy has a point, Andrew,” Eddie whispers, raising his head from the makeshift pillow. “When anything else fails, survival cuddling is the only way to stay warm. Least that’s what they told us in winter training courses.”
“Plus, Andrew, really. This is the least sexy location of all time and I got two layers of clothes on...” Chayne replies in a deadpan tone, making Eddie snerk.
The polecat makes it as if he wants to say something, but then he lets out a big sigh and scoots his sinewy body imperceptibly closer to the marten’s. “Fine,” he concedes. “But don’t pull any sorta funny business there.”
“Again, we not gonna bone. Eddie here would kick me out if that was the case,” Chayne assures, leaning into the polecat to share their bodily warmth. “At least on Brokeback Mountain it was summer...”
“It’s understandable a lot of furs may get freaked out, but I’m an honest marten, I can keep it off-bounds. If I wanted to bone, we’d have already kissed and foreplayed by this point, and always make sure to get consent. Right now, my main focus is ‘don’t die frozen over’.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
“In five minutes you gonna thank the heavens you got Chayne, Andy…” Eddie mutters, settling back into his own sleeping bag. “Meanwhile, I’m just gonna take it like a SEAL, I recko-”
Zakee snorts, as he shifts in his sleep, kicking Eddie’s shin repeatedly. “I pity the woman who’s gonna take this guy to the altar,” the lutrine scoffs, trying to keep his body as steady as he can and relax his heartbeat, but not after more kicks to his feet by the hog badger.
“Hey!” Eddie protests. “Can you fucking knock it off?”
Zakee barely responds, grumbling as he turns in his stupor, ending on his belly. “What the hell, man?”
“You keeping the whole tent awake’s what’s up,” the otter growls.
The hog badger huffs defensively, choosing to turn his sleeping bag and positioning his head where his paws were and viceversa. “Better?”
“I’ll tell ya tomorrow,” Eddie scoffs. “As long as you plug your muzzle or something, I guess we’ll all be fine. And if you kick my face, out you go. No warnings.”
Chayne quietly giggles as the mechanic lets out a concerned nod. “You settling in, Drew?” he whispers in the polecat’s ear, his arm draped over the younger fur’s in a bid to keep the bodies closer. There was no response, as Andrew was positively fast asleep. “Oh well,” the marten shrugs, burying his head in the back of the roadie’s neck with the hint of a smirk.
***
It’s early morning. A tiny sliver of light filters through the tent as Eddie suddenly wakes up, his eyes blinking slightly as he takes sight of his surroundings. It takes little for him to acknowledge the reason for his discomfort, as even in the dark he can see Chayne having shifted away from the polecat in deep sleep to use his own rudder as a makeshift body pillow.
“Can’t keep away from me…” the lutrine mutters, rolling out of his sleeping bag and crawling to the tent’s opening before making his way out - careful to not make too much noise and excite his sleeping companions.
The day is decidedly warmer than the previous one, the sky mostly clear and the earliest sun rays starting to poke out from behind the mountain range. Eddie doesn’t waste time in getting the fire going, soon putting a boiling pot over the flames and dumping in some grounds to prepare himself a satisfying batch of ‘cowboy coffee’. With the tip of a knife he stirs the mixture in a windmill motion, allowing the grounds to settle with the practiced ease of someone who did the same a number of times.
“I ain’t my ‘nonna’, but I know at least how to whip a cup while in dire straits. These three don’t deserve to meet me without coffee, no one does.” *chuckle*
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
A drone camera follows the lutrine, clad only in his thermals and fleece trousers, as he stares down towards the lake with a steaming mug in his paws.
“It doesn’t matter the situation, I always make sure to manage to get on my feet time and time again. Some of these people up there may think they got me on the ropes, but they don’t know who they’re dealing with.” *the otter flashes the scar on his abdomen to the camera* “If there’s someone who knows the meaning of coming back, that’s me. There’s nothing more eye-opening than a near-death experience while on duty, I tell you that. Many don’t get to have a chance to come back, so it adds to the motivation to keep moving forward.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
Eddie finishes his drink, then tosses the empty vessel in the snow - webbed paws planted on his hips as he takes in the chilly morning air, a stoic expression on his streamlined muzzle.
“This is the day I kick off my rampage. It is almost sad that it’s gonna be against one of these and not Ken or Arron, but… if it’s the only means to get to them, I’ll take it any day. You wanna fight? I’ll bring a motherfuckin’ war.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
***
The camera pans across the challenge arena, noticeable wider and more open than what they were used to: large swaths of soil, but only one lit enough to mark the entrance of the designated area. Ludwig stands in the middle of the field, nodding at the four safe mustelids who just took their seat adjacent to the borders. “Morning, guys...”
“What even is this?” Arron looks up at the forested area, lights shining bright down the vicinity.
“Let’s welcome the rest of you, shall we?” he motions, as the four remaining competitors enter the arena, clearly exhausted after the heavy night but all sporting a determined grin on their muzzles. “Chayne, Andrew, Eddie, and Greasy Z.”
“Right now I feel we all on the same playin’ field: cold, hungry, tired, but all wanting to just go and get that safety ASAP. I dunno what we gon’ do, but I’m not gettin’ in that duel just yet.”
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
John turns to the winning team, a grin in his features. “How was the reward, Kenneth?”
“Out of this world,” the badger smirks, immediately knowing what the stoat was hinting at. “A hot tub, a huge feast and the warmest and softest bed I’ve ever slept in. Thank ya, man.” Eddie pierces the badger with an icy stare.
“And how did the camp go, guys?” Ludwig turns to the upcoming challengers.
“I mean, of course the chalet would have been better…” Chayne shrugs, imperceptibly nodding to the winners’ bench. “But we made do as a proper team. And like, it’s easier to bond over a campfire and facing adversities. My bet is that those four couldn’t even talk to each other unless shitfaced on bubbly.”
“I’m sure if the situation was reversed, you’d have had to send a rescue team to thaw them out earlier on this morning,” Eddie says to the host. “These guys, well, they just proved they’re a lot tougher than they look. Losing any of ‘em is gonna feel like a travesty when we look at who’s sitting on that bench.”
“Guys who win are the ones sitting…” John quips.
“I’m pretty much done with Eddie making it sound like all his enemies aren’t worth shit. Challenge wise, I’m leading him four to three, and I haven’t gone to a duel yet either.” *camera shows Eddie crossing his paws over his chest, choosing to not pick up the stoat’s provocation* “I’m more and more sure that Eddie’s ship is sinking, and it was due time to jump from it.”
~John, 36, Stoat, Jailer
“So, you know the drill. You lost the challenge, you will go to individual, and then the big duel.” Ludwig says, the four mustelids nodding. “However, we need to really establish the boundaries, and make sure only the best survive from now on.”
Chayne stares at Ludwig in confusion, while the two Texans give each other a subtle wink. “For right now, the individual challenge will work a little differently. Or should I say… challenges?” the host continues.
“What’s he even talking about?” Kenneth whispers to William, looking at the four perplexed mustelids.
“The four of you will compete in the first challenge, but only one will win and be saved. Then we will head on another more difficult challenge, where one of the three will be safe. The remaining two will go head to head in the final Duel of the day, the loser of which will be the fifth fur out of American Mustelid Alpha.”
*the badger looks surprised* “So, you all pissed Ludwig off enough he just said ‘fuck it, new rules!’ I mean bruh… this is the real deal now, y’all four gonna feel it!”
~Kenneth, 24, American Badger, Roofer/CrossFit Instructor
“I’ve come too far to be afraid of anything Ludwig can throw at us. I know how much I’m worth, and I bet these people do too. Let’s rock it out!”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
Ludwig grins. “Trust me, you do not want to go to that final duel. Make sure to win as soon as possible to join the four you see there,” he says, pointing at the field. “The first task is as easy as it comes, and it will test your strength, speed, stamina and skills with a small axe. You’ll be using a baby just like this one to split twenty wood logs in half,” he continues, showcasing the axe in his paws. “Fastest to complete the whole row saves himself from elimination.”
“Doesn’t sound like a walk in the park…” Chayne mumbles under his breath.
The host lets out a sneering grin. “Anyone here got any practice with wood chopping?” Ludwig is met with silence and head shaking as he sees the group looking at the rows of logs.
“All the experience I got from working on tours won’t help me one bit there. The four of us are on the same starting ground here - it’s gonna come down to who got the biggest grit and who can pick up this skill the soonest.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“I might not be a lumberjack from Jankytown, Oregon, but what I am is quick. I know I can go down the row of 20 better than these guys.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
“Alright, you guys ready?” Ludwig asks, as the four mustelids are standing behind the first log, axe in hand, fully equipped to tear down the entire row. “GO!”
Andrew, Eddie, Chayne and Z run forward and start tackling the challenge, swinging the axe at the log with powerful two-handed motions - their legs slightly pulled apart as they lean in the motion, letting the momentum of the weapon do most of the work. Soon the air is filled with the sound of heavy grunting, splinters flying in all directions as Eddie manages to split his first log in perfect halves earlier than the other three.
“One done, nineteen to go!” Ludwig yells as the lutrine moves down the line, tackling the next piece of wood without a second of pause.
“This is tougher than it looks…” Arron bites his lip, turning towards Kenneth as they stare down the line. “The faster you go, the less precise you are. No point in wasting tons of hits if it doesn’t get that log chopped... Look at Andy and Chayne, they’re just tiring their arm there,” he frowns.
“Z's ripping at it.” William points out, as the hog badger gives one last chop to its first log, kicking away the remnants with his booted paw before moving on. “He’s got the swinging motion down to a T, even more so than Eddie.”
“Listen, it’s all about gettin’ to the end line. If I go too quick, Imma tire myself. If I go too slow, then these other bastards gonna swift past me. Hit that perfect spot, and it’s all as sweet as cornbread.”
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
The camera focuses on the foursome as they split log, after log, after log. Their motions never relent, all competitors falling into a steady rhythm as they land blow upon blow. Eddie uses his thick rudder to steady himself as he swings his axe, landing it perfectly in the middle of his log and denting the wood. Greasy Z has a rougher style, relying more on his brute force to offset the growing pain in his right shoulder. The more inexperienced Andrew takes a little to pick up the motion, but once he does he is quick to move past the first few logs and approach the two older guys.
“Eddie and Z have reached the midway point!” Ludwig recaps, the hog badger stopping for a second to wipe the sweat off his forehead with the hem of his shirt before getting to the second half. “Andrew’s got eight, while Chayne is stuck at four. All is still in play, so don’t even think about giving up!”
“Come on...” Andrew mutters as he looks up at Eddie and Zakee, panting heavily. The polecat puts a paw on his hip, scanning the scenario.
“I’m looking at the others and taking pointers on how the hell they’re going at this. If I can do whatever Eddie or Z are doing, I think I can overcome them. I want to get the hell out of these challenges.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“Okay, baby, break. Break!” Eddie growls as he hits one sturdy log for the fourth time, his axe getting stuck in the center of the wood. With a heavy grunt, the otter pulls with all his might on the handle, wrestling out the weapon after a brief struggle.
Meanwhile, Greasy Z has started to swing his own axe with a single paw, alternating between arms to not put too much of a strain on the muscles of either shoulder. The motion is obviously less effective, the mechanic letting out a sigh as he sees Andrew passing him by. “Seriously, dude?” he asks in shock, watching for a second as the young roadie is still swinging at full speed, landing blows straight through the log with surprising precision.
“Chayne’s past the halfway point!” Ludwig points out to the crowd. “Zakee seems to have hit a bump, Eddie’s going strong, Andrew’s going strong!”. The otter is still one log ahead of the rest of the competition, but the polecat is drawing closer to him with each chop - making use of his youthful strength reserves and the new skill he’s just picked up.
Feeling Andrew’s breath on his neck, Eddie redoubles his motions, mustering up every remaining drop of energy. Thick, oily sweat is pouring out of the otter’s body despite the chilly weather, him having disrobed to his compression tank top as the challenge progressed. With four logs still to be split, it’s clear the challenge has become a straight-out race between him and the roadie from Austin.
“This challenge is wreaking havoc on my rotators. The more I go on, the worse I feel in my shoulder - and that’s definitely affecting my swinging motion. I can only hope my mental toughness can suffice.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“I started this off pretty slow, but as I get down the line, I see I’m pulling closer and closer to the lead. Z hasn’t got the best poker face, so I know for a fact he’s falling apart - and Eddie isn’t all that far from that.” *the polecat takes off his own shirt, chucking it casually towards the lutrine* “Three more logs. C’mon Andrew, you can do this!”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“Who’s ending first?!” Ludwig shouts, as Andrew struggles with his last log, Eddie managing to perfectly split his penultimate, with Zakee not far behind. Seconds turn to minutes as Eddie and Andrew try to decimate that last log, loudly grunting with each blow, until the young roadie manages to break it in two with a perfect blow.
Ludwig sounds an air horn. “And Andrew wins the first trial!” the host rousingly exclaims.
The polecat looks up, still high in adrenaline. “YES!” he screams as he tosses the axe away, loudly smacking his chest with a balled fist.
“He went into fuckin’ beast mode…” Kenneth mutters, surprised at the roadie’s come-from-behind performance. William stands up and loudly claps the young polecat, while Arron has a more pensive expression.
*ponders* “If Andrew keeps with this pace, he will win AMA. We’ve all had wool pulled over our eyes with Eddie and Z, and guys are beginning to sneak under the radar, I can’t have that. The others can do whatever, but I’m done underestimating anyone here.”
~Arron, 28, Honey Badger, Firefighter
“Andrew, you can go back to the bench with the safe-” Ludwig barely manages to finish as the youngster quite literally sprints to the bench, making the rest laugh.
“Had this moment on my mind all throughout the camping experience. Dreamt of it even,” the polecat chuckles, unable to contain himself, as William puts an arm around his shoulders. ”Don’t do that Will, I’m gross right now...” he laughs.
“Yeah, you reek,” Kenneth taunts, still smiling at Andrew.
“If I can’t win the main challenge, I might as well show everyone else that they’re not getting rid of me easily.” *camera shows Kenneth messing Andrew’s hair*
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“Okay, guys,” Ludwig turns to the three remaining mustelids, once they’ve managed to recover from the hard labor of the first task, as the second part of the challenge arena lights up. “With Andrew safe, we are going to kick things up a notch. For the next challenge, you’ll have to chop down a vertical tree trunk, sixteen inches in diameter, with the help of a bigger axe,” he says. “Again, the fastest to complete the challenge, the first tree to hit the ground, will be safe from elimination... while the two remaining mustelids will be heading straight to the final duel.”
“Aw, you not even giving us a chainsaw?” Zakee pouts, stretching his arms up, his body mattened in sweat as if it wasn’t even winter. “My upper arms are killin’ me!” he scoffs off.
Ludwig cracks a grin. “You’ll have to make do with what you got,” he chuckles.
“I’m positive everyone’s pretty much dying at this point. But if I am not known for something is for keeling over, all I need is to outdo these two in this tier and then I’ll be safe.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
The three mustelids are shown testing their grip on the bigger axe, both having donned a pair of safety goggles to shield their eyes from flying splinters. They take their position next to their trees, painstakingly demarcated to avoid any possible damage should they fall in the wrong direction.
“Who you bettin’ on?” John cockily asks the group.
Kenneth squints, trying to shield his eyes from the sunlight. “Wouldn’t mind Z,” he says casually. “You think he got it in him?”
“Well you saw how much energy Eddie spent during round one,” Andrew shrugs as he points to the lutrine, trying his best to look stoic while the hog badger tries to work some circulation in his shoulders and back. “He can act tough all he wants, but if there’s a challenge to break him, it’s this one. I don’t discount Chayne to be honest.”
“I do.” John interrupts, snickering. “He barely got halfway through the line of small logs, do you really see him taking down that beast faster than Eddie or Zakee?”
“If they’re tired enough...” Andrew shrugs in mild annoyance at the stoat’s trash talking, casually throwing his used, sweaty towel in his direction.
“Alright, guys… y’all ready?” Ludwig asks. All three nod a grunt of approval. “GO!”
Chayne, Eddie and Greasy Z start chucking away at their trunks, swinging their axes in a straight motion to make the biggest dent they can in the wood. The hog badger lands blow after blow in quick succession, trying to exploit his speed against the otter’s strength. Besides him, the beech marten tries to mimic the mechanic’s motions, but it’s clear he lacks experience with such a big cutting weapon.
“Fuck,” Eddie grunts as his axe lodges itself in the middle of his trunk after a particularly hard blow. Pulling back with a tug of his paws, he closely inspects the damage he’s done this far, trying to make a dent in which to land the next few chops.
*points at area between his tricep and underarm* “This, right here, is burning as all hell. It doesn’t help that my axe is just deciding to stick to this damn tree. But I got the blows, I know this thing will go down and I will be safe.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
Zakee looks up, then down at his cutting area, heavily panting after landing serious blows to his tree. With a snort, he quickly sprints to the opposite side of his first cut, starting all over again to open another gash from the start.
“And just like that, Z has switched sides!” Ludwig announces, both Eddie and Chayne turning their heads towards the mechanic to get a grasp of what he’s trying to do before redoubling on their own motion. It’s clear to the bystanders that the otter and the hog badger are running almost side-to-side, both having reached the midway point in their effort, while the marten is once again falling out of the competition.
“What is Z doing there?” William asks, dumbfounded. “Isn’t that like… starting from the beginning, now that he has to open another fresh dent?”
Kenneth huffs with a knowing nod. “He has cut trees before.”
“You sure?”
“Mmmhhh. Look at where he’s hitting the trunk,” the badger nudges the weasel, motioning to the mohawked competitor as he chops several inches higher than his first mark on the opposite side. “He’s doing that to create a hinge on which to exert some kinda leverage once the tree is about to fall. The other two are hanging on their strength alone, and it’ll be tougher and tougher as they go...”
*oinks enthusiastically* “I cleared farmland once or twice before in my life, so I cut like… some little twiggy thangs, but overall, I got the tip of going one side than the other will make it fall quicker. If it faces right, Eddie and Chayne might have to face the cut…” *snorts, laughing loudly* “Get it? Cut? Cuz the duel and...” *claps*
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
Seeing the hog badger vehemently swinging at his trunk, Eddie doubles down on his own chops, his grunts rising in intensity and steam pouring out of his body as he digs into each motion with all of his might. However, Chayne is quick to imitate Zakee as he goes 180 degrees around his tree and starts hacking at it again. “We got a copycat…” the hog badger chuckles between a dig and the next, noticing the marten is cutting at the same height on both sides as he dares to dart a glance towards his opponent’s post.
All three mustelids keep chopping and chopping, the tunks of their axes planting in the wood being the only sound echoing in the arena. Suddenly, though, Eddie bowls over - leaning against the trunk as he holds his right arm with the other paw, a painful cramp pulsating through his shoulder.
“Eddie’s gone,” John leers, letting out a smug grin as the lutrine roars in pain between clenched teeth. He works his arm back and forth, trying to get some relief from the numbing ache, but the pain returns as soon as he picks up the axe.
Noticing his opponent is in trouble, the hog badger starts attacking his log with all he got left. Planting the axe in the middle of the trunk, he tries to use it as a lever to check whether it is budging. Unsatisfied with his progress, he lays in another few blows before hearing that first, satisfying crack. “Shit!” Zakee yells, looking up at the commotion. “She’s going down!” he squeals, quickly running out from his falling tree as Eddie and Chayne watch over impotently, the large hunk of wood hitting the ground with a resounding thud.
“And Zakee wins the second trial!” Ludwig exclaims, as the hog badger lets loose a guttural, satisfied growl of victory. Without a hint of hesitation, he runs over to the winner’s bench - immediately tackling Andrew with a rough brohug as the polecat gets up in celebration. “Texas strong, dude!” he yells, the rest of the qualified mustelids chuckling at the display.
“YEEEEEEE-HAWWWWWWWWWWW!” *the badger messes his mohawk* “Greasy is here to stay! Y’all think I was out? Think fucking again!” *the camera shows both Andrew and Z hopping in place as they take a seat in the bench*
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
“This plainly sucks. I almost had it, but my shoulder gave up on me before I could seal the deal.” *the lutrine is shown as he sits on the ground, looking dejected, mindlessly rubbing his aching shoulder* “Now I’m heading to the Duel for the second time in a row, and after spending a huge amount of energy already, that’s not the spot where I want to be.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“Zakee, you are safe from elimination, what do you have to say?” Ludwig smiles at the celebrating pair.
“I’M IN FINAL SEVEN, BABY!” the hog badger screams at the top of his lungs, the rest of the group facepalming at his rowdy antics. “Any day… that I don’t duel… it’s fucking fantastic, Lud…” he says between pants.
Individual Challenge #5, “Cut It Out”
1st: Andrew
2nd: Greasy Z
To the Duel: Eddie, Chayne
“It means that Eddie, Chayne, you two are up for elimination.” The stoat says with a serious tone. Chayne wipes his face as he pulls his long hair back. “Both of you, for the second time in this spot. What’s your take?”
“The competition’s getting fiercer for sure,” the marten responds. “I know pure strength is not my best field, especially against these dudes. I just hope something more suited to my abilities comes up next.”
“Looking at it in another perspective, if I manage to beat Navy SEAL Eddie and send him home, I’m set to return to the Burrow a legend. So all of this is actually a huge opportunity in disguise. I’ve been wildly out of my element, but with Eddie as beaten up as he is, this is the one where I can succeed.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
“To be frank, I’d rather take on Chayne than any of the others. The dude is fine, but let’s be honest… he couldn’t hold a candle to me or the other guys in most challenges so far. I hope the next challenge is on the physical side, so I can deal him some good body contact before he packs his bags for good.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
The duelists are brought under a small hill, a 20-feet vertical pole having been planted on its summit. “Today’s duel is called Top Of The World,” Ludwig instructs the two competitors. “For this challenge, you gonna run up this 50-feet steep incline and try to get to the top earlier than your opponent, whatever means it takes. Then, you’re gonna have to climb all the way up the wooden pole and reach out for the bell at the top. First one to ring it lives to see another day, while his opponent will become the fifth eliminated player from American Mustelid Alpha. Understood?”
Both Chayne and Eddie nod, neither flinching or saying anything as the duel is unveiled. “The… fuck,” John mutters from the bench, his mouth falling open at the challenge description.
“This is straight from some fantasy world shit. I can’t even picture doing this and then adding the highest stakes there ever could be. This being elimination, I think we gonna have to call the medics.”
~John, 36, Stoat, Jailer
“Just to make sure, how much physical contact is allowed?” Eddie casually asks, shooting a glance to his opponent before turning to Ludwig.
“I said ‘whatever means’, Eddie,” the stoat host chuckles. “But you will need to don protective gear, for your security,” he says, as he reaches out to give each mustelid a helmet, fang guards, and pads for their knees and elbows.
Both contestants go to their respective corner, getting ready to battle as they trade challenging glances. On the bench, the rest of the group watches them intently, trying to guess who may come out on top. “You think Chayne stands a chance?” Andrew asks, knowing his friend’s aversion to challenges featuring heavy physicality.
“Eddie did kind of drain his all on the first two,” Arron replies. “As long as Chayne is fast enough to get on top of the hill before he does, and you know he can… I reckon he might pull this off.”
Greasy Z flinches. “That, if the big lug doesn’t catch him sooner,” he says. “You’ve seen Ed against Crispin, he threw someone as big as him like a dang potato bag.”
“But wouldn’t it be funny if after all this shit, he was booted off the Burrow by Chayne’s paws?” Kenneth shrugs. “Not that I’m scared to take him on myself, but I wouldn’t mind an early Christmas gift…”
“Chayne’s gonna be quicker than me up that hill, that’s just a fact. I need to make sure he doesn’t make his way up there, because if he gets past me, I might as well be calling myself a dead otter.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“The otter has his focus set on getting to the pole as quick as he can, thinking he can out-run me. But I haven’t gotten this far without playing it smart. This is the real trial by fire.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
“Are you ready? For the chance to survive another day in American Mustelid Alpha...” Ludwig holds an airhorn, both Eddie and Chayne focused, looking up the hill and the pole that is about to decide their fate. “GO!” the airhorn pierces through the silent tension.
“HIAH!” Before Eddie can even take a step, his rival effectively shoulders him with all his force - the startled otter taking a heavy tumble to the ground as Chayne quickly sprints up the dirt path. After an instant of shock, the bench explodes in a cheer.
“You bastard...” the lutrine growls under his breath, propelling himself on his feet with the help of his muscular rudder and immediately dashing behind the marten.
*the polecat holds his paws to his head* “Chayne just fucking quarterbacked a Navy veteran twice as large as he is to the ground, that is the most savage thing I’ve ever seen!”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
The hill is really that steep, both contestants soon forced on their paws and knees as they make their way up. “Chayne’s almost two-thirds of the way, while Eddie’s lagging behind!” Ludwig exclaims. “His wild strategy seems to be paying off!”
The marten has no time to digest what’s going on as he gets on top of the slope, Eddie looking over in desperation while his opponent gets ready to tackle the pole. “Can Chayne make it to the top uncontested?” Ludwig asks, his excitement palpable as the bartender locks his legs around the lowest level of the pole and starts shimmying his way up.
“I know I can do this, I don’t even know or care where Eddie is. My main focus is that bell, and getting myself to fight another day.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
With one last push, the otter manages to reach the top, not even taking a second to rest up as he jumps onto the pole behind the marten. “Not so fast!” he grunts, covering the distance between the bottom and Chayne in a matter of seconds as he uses his tail for leverage, coiling it around the pole to secure himself before pulling his body up with strong tugs of his arms.
The bartender dares to shoot a look down, feeling the pole twitching from the sheer weight of the lutrine adding to his own. “What the hell?” he shivers as his eyes meet Eddie’s, tensing up as he recognizes an insane glint in the otter’s gaze. “You wouldn’t dare…”
Eddie gets a hold of the marten’s foot, trying to shake his rival off the pole. Chayne flails in an attempt to get out of the otter’s grasp. The entire bench gasps as they realize what the bigger mustelid is trying to pull off. “He’s gonna hold him up until his arms tire enough to force him to slide down…” Arron shudders, recalling his own pole climbing experience from his daily job.
“Yeah but even if, how can he get past? They can stay in this position for hours as long as their legs are locked...”
Chayne puts his paw on the otter’s shoulders and head in an attempt to break free. “Man, knock it off!” he protests, realizing his opponent isn’t relenting, and opts to try to climb up and reach the bell. Sensing the marten’s imminent move, Eddie leaps forward and wraps his arm around his opponent’s midsection before letting himself drop to the ground - Chayne’s body following his as the added weight of the lutrine makes it impossible for him to keep holding onto the pole. The two bodies hit the ground with a loud thud, Eddie immediately pouncing on top of the marten’s body and taking little effort in wrestling him into submission as they roll in the dirt.
“Chayne got up and stunned Eddie in minute one, and Eddie just went up and totally manhandled blondie and now they both wrestlin’ and hasslin’ to get on the top. Baby, it’s anyone’s game right now.”
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
The whole crowd gasps as Eddie gets up and immediately shoots for the pole, Chayne holding on to the otter’s rudder with all his might. The heavy appendage, so useful during the climb, is now proving to be a major hindrance for the former SEAL as he can’t seem to be able to shake the marten off him.
“Hold that tail!” Kenneth yells, loudly cheering as Chayne redoubles his efforts to keep Eddie from reaching the pole.
“This isn’t going anywhere. If I drop that rudder, he’s gonna make a full job of that pole before I can even reach the base. If I keep holding on, I can’t get a chance to climb up myself.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
Eventually, Eddie decides it can’t go on much further. Rolling his body on top of the marten, he wrestles him over the edge of the platform until both bodies are at the very edge of the incline. The otter hooks his paws between the marten’s and his rudder, tugging his own limb away from his opponent’s grasp with much effort and a menacing snarl as his guarded fangs tickle the bartender’s whiskers. His tail now flagging behind himself, he pushes Chayne down the hill with a resolute shove, dashing towards the pole before his rival can recover.
“Eddie’s made it to the pole, can he close this?” Slowly but surely, the otter climbs up with practiced agility - inching ever so close to reaching the bell that marked the lifeline of this competition. Chayne quickly makes his way back to the summit, but he’s forced to watch powerlessly as Eddie takes one of his webbed paws off the pole and rings the bell with a deafening roar.
“EDDIE, WINS THE DUEL!” Ludwig yells as he sounds off his air horn, to the wide range of expressions of the rest of the competition. The otter takes little time in sliding down the pole, immediately bumping fists and pulling Chayne in a half-hug before letting himself fall on the ground.
“I said it before and I’ll say it again. If they want me to give them a war, I’ll give them one and a half. It takes so much more to get off of me, and as long as I have life in here, I’ll have a goal.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“Eddie, you managed to conquer your second duel in a row,” Ludwig addresses the otter, as soon as both competitors have reached the bottom of the hill. “Nobody here has risked his place in the competition as much as you, but you’re still around and kicking tail. What do you wanna say to the guys over there?”
Instead of going by Ludwig’s prompt, the giant otter turns to Chayne. “You’re bold for fucking doing that at the beginning of the challenge, you know?” he quips.
“I did promise ya I’d get back at you for your teasing…” the marten cracks a smile, after hugging the otter. “Seriously, dude. One hell of a fight, and I’m proud as fuck I’m going out against you.”
“So I reckon you’re not gonna answer my question?” the host asks again, nearly interrupting the bartender.
Eddie sneers. “I’ve said all I wanted to, Ludwig. It’s fine.”
“Alright then… you may go to the bench.” the stoat directs the lutrine. “Chayne, you’ve been an amazing personality. You’ve always refused to give up and stayed true to your brand of Alpha, one that excels and inspires the… gay, bisexual, lesbian, transgender... community… did I get them all? Did I, guys?” he asks, to the marten’s amusement.
“I’ll give you a pass for this once,” the marten chuckles.
“Sure thing, man,” Ludwig nods. “But sadly, you know how it is… Your Alpha journey officially ends here.”
“It’s all good. Deep inside, I’m good for what I’ve done here,” Chayne shrugs. “It could have been over at the Omar duel, or hell, even the selections. Making it to the final eight above many beasts is an accomplishment in itself, and to be honest, I can’t wait to sit back and see who gets this.”
The marten makes his way to the bench to bid his friends farewell, shaking paws with mostly everyone as he walks down the row. Eventually he stops in front of Andrew, pulling the polecat into a tight hug. “Drew…” he whispers in his ear. “Keep being the realest and win this.”
“Consider it done,” Andrew nods, the group clapping as the blonde marten makes his way to the exit.
“Oh, Ludwig, one last question...” Chayne perks up, at the exit of the arena.
“Yeah?” the host replies.
The bartender points to the bench. “How the hell did you get so many whiny bottoms to sit in one spot?”
A few people laugh, others openly wincing at the marten’s words. “You ass...” Kenneth scoffs, in good humor, smiling despite himself as Chayne walks out.
“Guys, that’s another lesson for you, right there,” Ludwig addresses the surviving group of seven. “You don’t become an Alpha by right of species, ideas or sexual orientation. It’s how you carry yourself and the choices you make along the way that define how big of a badass you are and how seriously people can take you when you’re thrust in a leading position,” he says. “Time to leave guys, I’ll see you back in Apopka…”
*the marten makes his way to get his belongings and walk towards the van* “It’s crushing to be ousted right now. I really wanted to go the whole stretch, but I believe that… me being here, getting this far sends a powerful message nonetheless. I’ve grown tenfold by being here, and will always be extremely thankful for all of this. And to the gayboys watching this, if one door closes, throw a brick through the window and barge in regardless.”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
As the whole group heads down the icy slope, the marten is shown climbing up in the empty van, and sitting all the way in the back with a dejected look on his face.
“I couldn’t get a quickie out of this experience, but the lessons I got are actually worth a lot more than that. I honestly can’t wait to sit on the sidelines and watch who of these people ends up getting the trophy.” *chuckles* “America, thank you so much. I hope you got the chance of knowing me a little bit more. And I promise you, the Chaynexperience is far from over!”
~Chayne, 28, Beech Marten, Bartender
***
Duel 5, “Top Of The World”
Eddie defeats Chayne and eliminates him from American Mustelid Alpha.
