American Mustelid Alpha
Episode 7, “I Was Taught These Guys Got Feelings” - Part 1
March 8, 2020
Apopka, Florida
“Finally, back to civilization!” Andrew exclaims, as the seven remaining mustelids enter the Burrow after their long flight from the other side of the States.
“You just say that because you couldn’t bank on the luxury chalet…” John chuckles, patting the polecat’s back.
“Chayne leaving just kind of stings, he was one of my closest pals here. But his words still resonate with me, and I believe he really put it all in perspective.” *the camera focuses on the marten’s empty bed* “It’s time for me to stop thinking of surviving week by week, and start thinking of winning the whole shebang.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“Can’t believe he’s out. The house feels way less cheerful...” Andrew comments, as the seven remaining mustelids congregate around the kitchen area.
William raises his paw. “But you know? Everyone just tore that marten to shreds since day one and he just got up and kept going. Man never let anything get to his head, that’s pretty commendable.”
“I mean, this must have been the closest thing to his wet dream, am I right?” John cuts the weasel, mildly annoyed at the collective celebration of Chayne. “He got probably too distracted thinking of ways to get in our pants.”
“Bruh. Chayne is STILL on the airplane mid-air on his way to New York and John Blake here is tearing him apart in front of us. Deadass!” *guffaws, looking at the camera* “AYO CHAYNE PUT YOUR SHIT ON MUTE, PRESS SKIP OR SOME SHIT!”
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
“Those are some hot words, Johnny boy,” Eddie scoffs. “Guess your hearing aid glitched when Ludwig gave us his speech…”
“Just saying that the confidence did not match that skill. So at some point you just gotta be real and… scram,” the stoat shrugs, to the jeers and oohing of others. “And I don’t give a damn about who he sleeps with, as long as he doesn’t force it on us, you know?”
“Whatev’ ya say...” Andrew mumbles, raising his eyebrows while looking down. Nobody else comments further, the atmosphere suddenly becoming cold and silent.
“Looks like all that John was waiting for was Chayne getting out of the picture so he could be free to spout his bullshit on us. At this point I’m like… whatever, you know? You can run your mouth as much as you want, but that doesn’t mean people will be listening. And if I can do a thing or two about it, you’ll be the next one out of this house.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“Man’s just thinking his ass was at risk. Come on, Chayne has standards,” Andrew mutters to an amused William and Eddie as the group scatters around the mansion. The three make their way to the upper floor, the lutrine remaining a step back and waiting for the weasel to enter the bedroom before turning towards the young polecat with a knowing glance.
“The badgers first, John after. Understood?” Eddie whispers.
“Ed, I’m just sick of John’s bullshit, he’s my one to go. Dude won four out of five and killed the one individual he was in,” Andrew growls. “He’s a pain in the tail, a talented one at that, and I’m sick of it.”
“Yeah but do you want to win this thing or…?” the giant otter insists, a frustrated look on his features. “I get that he’s badmouthing your friend, but he’s not a threat. Both of us can defeat him handily in a one-on-one. The badgers, though… they’re a tight pair, and we gotta break ‘em.”
Andrew thinks about defending his point, but in the end, chooses to play the part of an open mind. “Right… But you know three don’t make a couple. They’ll sacrifice him the minute they’re at risk.”
“I’m just saying… stay focused on the goal. The next one is gonna be vital, and I don’t wanna lose another round to people playing buddy-buddy,” Eddie says. “Me and you are heading to the final, but you oughta stick to my rudder and follow the plan.”
“Eddie, I get you hate Kenneth and Arron’s guts more than anything in the world, but at this point everyone’s competition. Kenneth is, Arron is, John is...” *points at the camera* “You is. I’m at the point that I’ll win what I need to and the one who goes is the one that must go, and right now I got my sights on the elder of the house.” *camera shows John laying on his bed*
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“Kenneth and Arron were quick to join forces and line their troops. If I can’t do the same, it doesn’t matter how strong I am and how well I can perform in challenges.” *Eddie is shown sitting on his bed in a meditating position* “I want revenge for Crispin, and I’m not gonna rest until I get it.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
***
“Straighten your back...”
Most of the contestants choose to exploit their free day to rest up, but that’s not the case for Arron and William. The honey badger is quick to change up into his workout clothes and head to the home gym, performing his lifting routine alongside the Honduran personal trainer. Machines are groaning under the firefighter’s weight as he goes, his pelt shining with perspiration under the lights as he moves from one another.
“A lot of us can afford a day off, but that’s not my case. I’m kinda thankful that I got a PT for now instead of winging it, and thankful is someone as level headed as William.”
~Arron, 28, Honey Badger, Firefighter
“Okay, just like this…” William instructs Arron, as the honey badger picks up two 100 lbs. dumbbells to perform a repetition of shoulder presses. “Wait… don’t arch your back that much,” he says, stopping the firefighter in his tracks. “You’re having all of that weight coming down on your spine, which might leave you with back pain in the future. Come on, let me show you…”
The weasel takes Arron’s place, picking up the dumbbells the firefighter chose and displaying his perfect form as he performs a few reps - his biceps slightly trembling under the heavy weight the honey badger picked, but completing the lift nonetheless as his housemate watches intently. “Man… you’re a freaking ox, you know? This is way above my warm up load...” he says, putting down the dumbbells with a small pant and beckoning the honey badger to swap seats. “You just need to perfect your technique and you’re good to go.”
“As less and less remain in the Burrow, all you have left is to connect with the ones you have left. Luckily, Arron just understands my vibes and it’s good to have someone to be on that same level. Parenthood, health… keeping the house clean every once in a while.” *grimaces* “El lugar está todo chuco...” *laugh*
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
After having finished their session, the two mustelids head towards the communal showers. The weasel lets out a flinch as he walks through the changing room, still unclean after the last challenge the group took before departing.
“Ugh...” William moves his paw at the feeling of something slimy on the floor. “I’ll say, you know who in here has the head of hair to clog the drains.”
Arron sighs. “Ken, of course… Guess he mistook this place for his college frat house. Least you and Eddie have managed to keep your own room decently tidy…”
“Define… ‘tidy’,” the personal trainer shakes his head. “It’s hard enough for the otter to not bring damp clothes in the room. And you’d think Andrew and Z are the teenage-acting ones here.”
*camera shows different unkempt rooms in the Burrow, complete with a stained kitchen and sprawled clothes around the area* “As much as it feels we are going to nag, Arron and I are kind of conspiring to put the whole house to clean up because we are living in a pigsty… no offense, Zakee.”
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
The honey badger steps under the shower jet, patting down his shoulder and chest to wash away the sweat. “It’s still better than like… I don’t think I’ve ever seen Ken make up his bed once ever since he got here. He just throws the covers upon himself and goes out like a light,” he snorts. “And you haven’t seen how he stores his clean laundry…”
“Arron, don’t see with this...” the weasel points to his own eyes. “But rather this,” he points to his nose. “We need to organize cleaning duties unless we want the flies to eat us alive.”
“You think you can herd those people to clean up the whole house?” the honey badger asks in disbelief.
“You rather that or keep the house smelling like you after training 24/7?” William asks back. “And I got experience organizing house chores. I have five kids and the house was never like this. Ever...”
Arron chuckles, thoroughly rinsing his cornrows after gently pressing a dollop of conditioner through them. “You mean we gotta begin treating Z, Ken and Andy as your kids?”
“All of them,” William smirks. “No worries, I’ll be mostly nice. Or you want to keep opening the fridge or pass by the rooms and try to not to gag?”
“Nah, I’m curious to see how much grime could they all whip up in just eighteen days…” the badger says sarcastically, shaking off the water like a wet dog before heading for the lockers. “So we got a plan, brother?”
“Indeed. And it starts now.” The weasel looks on the side, where Arron piled up his sweaty clothing.
*most of the mustelids gather around the living room area* “The house is gross. No questions about it, so it’s better to put the ultimatum, and come on... who of these will protest keeping this place liveable and actually decent?”
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
“Alright, guys... as you all know, we got a day off today,” the weasel addresses the group. “So no better time to do some cleaning up and make our living conditions at least a step above the barracks we were in when we began…” he says, casually pointing out of the big window.
Z flattens his ears. “Billy, I’m still beat from camping on the snow. Come on...”
“You’ll get all the rest you want tonight, after you and Andrew have cleaned up your mess of a room,” William snerks. “How Chayne could put up with the two of you I’ll never know…”
“Does that nose work or it's only there for oinking?” Arron asks back, causing the group to let out a collective chuckle.
“I mean, it ain’t all that bad…” the mechanic puts his paws up, trying to defend himself. “You should come out at my garage sometimes, then y'all know the exact meaning of the word ‘mess’...”
Arron just stares back at the oddly proud hog badger, unimpressed. “We got kitchen, living room, bathrooms and our own rooms. Pick and go at it until it’s liveable,” he instructs the whole group, cleaning supplies galore next to his paws.
“You gonna help with our own, dude?” Kenneth asks his friend, cracking his joints with a bit of a yawn. “I’m not sure I can manage to do that by myself…”
“That’s literally the last thing I want to do, but Arron has a point, a house full of mustelids at least is going to get a little bit… musty.” *snerk* “So it’s best to try to clean stuff up.” *the group scrams to clean up the different rooms of the Burrow*
~Kenneth, 24, American Badger, Roofer/CrossFit Instructor
Under the direction of William and Arron, everyone starts complying to their respective tasks. Eddie volunteers to clean up the gym area, fully knowing nobody would want to get stuck up with arguably the hardest work. “Least the guys managed to not party away in the lap pool…” he sighs, taking note of the sandy mess on the locker room floor.
“As soon as we open the fridge, and see the things that got spoiled, I just throw up a little bit in my mouth.”
~Arron, 28, Honey Badger, Firefighter
Grabbing the food of former eliminated contestants that no one had touched, John chucks spoiled food and expired goods in the trash. “Jesus fuck, that looks like it’s alive...” the stoat’s lip curls, at a bag of cold cuts that he knew wasn’t supposed to be green, placing it on the counter.
Arron looks at said bag with a smirk, turning to the stoat. “I bet you my thousand dollars I won as a captain if you take a bite.”
“If I take a bite, I’ll get wheeled outta here with botulism…” John replies in a deadpan tone, sorting out some still-edible food from the spoiled goods.
“But you’ll go home with a thousand dollars!” Arron shrugs, chuckling.
“I still rather take the quarter million, thank you very much…” the stoat shakes his head. “It’s a shame we wasted so much of our money just to be throwing out all of this stuff. We could have gotten a couple big steaks, or at least something different from all these damn veggies…”
The honey badger shrugs, before looking away at someone else who was witnessing the conversation. “Hey Kenneth? You want some money?”
“Money? Where at?” the badger immediately perks up, resting the mop against a wall before running over to the couple. Arron just looks at the piece of spoiled meat with a knowing nod, Kenneth staring back, unimpressed. “I ain’t falling for that. No deal!”
“Not even for a thousand?” the honey badger smirks.
“You do it first,” Kenneth replies back, to the honey badger’s amusement before throwing it away.
“Living in a huge mansion was looking like a great idea up until this point.” *the polecat is shown tidying his room up with Zakee, Eddie offering a helping hand* “Keeping a house this big going is a full-time job, and one I don’t necessarily enjoy… but I rather go with the flow than be called the untidy bitch of the house.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“I mean, if the roommate’s all fine and dandy with it, I don’t see much issue, it’s not like this is becomin’ a hell to live in.” Zakee comments, throwing dirty laundry off to a corne rand pushing a pair of grimy, low top Converse shoes belonging to Andrew from under the polecat’s bed by Eddie’s space - the otter grimacing at their sight.
“Ugh… how did you even get those ratty things in here?” the giant otter asks as he collects the shoes from the two roommates before dropping them by the door.
“By putting them on my feet,” Andrew snarks back, amused by the otter’s expression. “It’s my lucky pair. And I’m still here, so...”
“Well at least now you know where to find them,” Eddie says, matter-of-factly. “But they should be in the trash...”
“You wish...” the roadie scoffs, looking at William on the edge of the door, asking for his help with the hallways. Andrew excuses himself, leaving Z and Eddie on their own.
“My relationship with Eddie’s a little rocky, so to speak. He saved all of our butts up there in the mountains, I don’t deny it… but I’m not dumb enough to not see he’s becoming a wee bit too power-crazy, trying to regain it after two duels and shit.” *Z is shown sitting on his own bed, while the otter makes a pile of all the dirty clothes* “Dunno if he’s gonna try to do somethin’ or pitch me a proposal or anythin’. Let’s see how this goes.”
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
“Finally, I forgot what color the floor was,” Eddie jokes, pushing two hefty laundry baskets off the way to open the window up.
The hog badger chuckles. “Aw, me and Andy were gettin’ on just fine…” he says in a mockingly annoyed tone. “But it’ll feel nice to get the space tidy for once.”
“Keep your eyes on your laundry pile,” the otter replies, sitting down, as he approaches Zakee. “So, what’s going on in that brain? Whatcha think about the current sitch?” he lowers his voice to a whisper.
“Well, let’s put it this way, bud…” Z responds in a cospirative tone, twirling his fingerclaws. “There’s seven musties left in here. We’ve all been pals to each other so far - but give it a little time, and it’ll really be every fur for himself,” he says. “You can see some of the people here are not coming in as… that strong, you get me? We gotta go after the easy picks if we want to stand a chance to progress, dontcha think?”
Eddie curls his lip. “I think we gotta see the bigger picture and get the big fish going home,” he replies, his large rudder swishing back and forth. “Else, the badgers are gonna come and nix us if they see they got a shot. You got in the house first as the best in challenge, and I bet they still reeling over being relegated, and sure will target your tail.”
“It don’t take a degree to know you’ve darn declared badger season against Ken and Arron…” the mechanic frowns. “I’m just sayin’ I can smell your hatred for them since day one. Sure it’d be enough to dispose of them both once you get the chance?”
“Just saying, we just gotta keep together against any bullshit from them, and we can pretty much go to the rudder-end of this,” Eddie nods. “Dude, between me and you… when it comes to ‘raw power’, you get me?” he whispers, visibly hinting at the hog badger. “Me and you got something no one here can match. I want to keep riding this until it’s just the two of us in the finale.”
Zakee is thoroughly entertained by the otter’s words. “It’s a hard bargain, bud… but if you civil, I’m civil, let’s start it like that.”
“When haven’t I been?” Eddie asks, leaning against the wall. “You hear me, Z. I know John is aggravating the whole house, but he’s no competition for me or you. Let’s get rid of the badgers first, then enjoy the spoils. You in?”
“I’ll do what I feel I need ta’... but I’m open minded,” Z nods, snorting as he shakes the otter’s paw. The giant otter chuckles, visibly pleased, bumping the hog badger’s shoulder for good measure.
“Zakee has a point, it may soon be every man for himself...but until it ain’t it’s better to be safe than sorry, and if we can knock out big competition, all the better.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“By raw power, I thought you were meaning another thing...” the hog badger cackles, amused, as the lutrine is about to leave the room.
“Uh?” Eddie raises his brow. “Come again?”
“Don’t act like you ain’t opening the window just cuz,” the hog badger grins, putting his paws behind his head. “If you mustelid, you know, and you’ve been acting all skittish since you got in.”
The giant otter lets out a faint smile. “Maybe that’s what I meant,” he smirks. “Feral mustelids mark their territory with their own musk when in a pickle. Looks like me and you have been doing the same for a while, huh?” Pushing the door open, he shows yet another laundry basket filled with the otter’s used clothes. “Keep at it, Z. We in this together now.”
“If only you weren’t spooked by Andrew’s own musk,” the mechanic jokes.
“Nah, my nose’s trained enough to pick up whoever it is and rise to the challenge,” Eddie shrugs.
“Yah, sure,” Z replies in mild sarcasm, as the giant otter waves off before closing the door behind himself. With a smirk, the mechanic lays down on his freshly-made bed, letting out a small sigh as he stretches his limbs. “So that’s how it be, Mr. Caprio, hm?” he says to himself, a grin plastered on his muzzle. “We gonna put your loyalty to the test soon. Real soon…”
***
“I’m shocked at how much these guys left behind. Who’s up for an eliminee buffet?” William grins as he sets down a variety of plates, mostly composed by the goods left by former competitors. “Salmon from Cris, steak from Michael and grilled vegetable salad by Chayne. Grab on!”
The guys quickly gathered around the kitchen; Zakee unable to wait to show the guys something. “What ya think?” the mechanic grins, his trademark mohawk fancied into a very crude rainbow pattern. “I spent like hours doin’ this shit, speak up!”
“Working on your clown wig there?” John says, barely lifting his head from his dish before letting out a snort at the mechanic’s new hairdo.
The hog badger is unfazed by the stoat, stacking up his plate high with food. “It’s a way to honor our fallen roomie, and it’s well known that a good dude gotta show support for his peers.” he guffaws.
The jailer looks decidedly unimpressed. “What did your “fallen roomie” do to deserve that?” he casually sneers. “Giving you head once the lights went out?”
The giant otter smacks John on the shoulder, surprising him. “Oh, lighten up, Blake,” Eddie comments, passing by and readying himself to wolf down a whole plate of salmon. “You just jealous that someone managed to make a friend or two inside here…”
“That, or I spent enough time doing my job that I know the exact meaning of a consensual situation,” John snarks, shooting an icy glare to the boisterous hog badger.
“I’m seriously wondering how long these people will keep up this “let’s be friends” BS. Sure, I got my own allies in here…” *camera lingers on Kenneth and Arron* “But you’re a fool if you think we’re going to stay as a unit until the bitter end. My best bet is trying to get these people to mentally trip. Eddie’s shaken, now comes the rest.”
~John, 36, Stoat, Jailer
Dinner is over, most of the players having already retreated to their own rooms. Andrew and Greasy Z are still lounging about, splayed on the living room sofa as they chat away.
“I got us a secret, Drew,” Z leans close to his friend, an evil smirk on his features.
“A secret?” the polecat props himself up, noticing the swift turn of conversation. “What up?”
“Eddie’s totally buttering up,” the mechanic giggles. “It seems we can use this to our advantage and get him off our back while his hateboner for Ken and ‘Ron continues.”
“Funny, dude…” Andrew nods, scratching his small goat patch. “He sorta did the same with me as soon as we walked back in here. All conspiratory and stuff,” he says. “But I mean, no surprises there. Guess he needs to get someone on board if he’s to get back at the badgers for the Crispin deal, right?”
“And again and again with Crispin,” Z shakes his head. “But if it sets sights away from us, good. Though it was a bit corny when he said him and me were a lock to the final...”
Andrew’s features immediately turn serious. “What?” he asks, his jaw falling down in shock. “What did he say, exactly?”
“Eh, same old same old,” the hog badger huffs as he fidgets his paws. “We got something special, Ken and ‘Ron can suck it, we strong enough to be final two...”
“That asshole...” the polecat lets out, putting his paws in front of his muzzle. “He pulled the same shit with me. ‘Me and you are heading to the end as long as you stick to my rudder…’” he says, his voice deepening as he mockingly imitates the lutrine.
The mechanic sits straight up, his features more amused than Andrew was. “Is that so, Drew?”
“I swear,” the polecat retorts. “This is dicey, Z. We can’t let him play us like fools, but at the same time, we can’t leave an open field to the badgers…”
Zakee brings his paw to his chin, pondering. “Now, Drew, we could, ya know… gain something outta this,” he oinks. “Let’s say we follow his game, and let him live in his own world where Ken and Arron and us and John and… iunno, Ludwig himself suck his dick, and then, we just mind our bizzy all until the end. If it includes him, fine, if not, no hide off our backs, aight?”
“I’m in whatever goes, dude,” the young polecat nods, extending his balled fist to the hog badger. “Eddie’s back is against the wall right now, it’s obvious he’ll try to pull whatever to buy himself time. But what if the real final two ended up being a Texas affair?” he says with a smirk.
“Then I’d kick yer tail,” Zakee smirks, extending his paw to the polecat’s personal space, jokingly pushing it to his shoulder.
Andrew chuckles, his whiskers twitching. “Well you’re welcome to try,” he smiles. “To the end and beyond, Z?”
“Sure bet,” Greasy Z grins, patting the polecat way too hard on his back. He then huffs as his hair falls on his line of sight. “‘Kay, this rainbow ended up sloppy and gross, but I’m sticking with it.”
“I think that fits ya,” Andrew replies with a smirk.
“Wait, bruh...” Zakee purses his lip. “What ya meant there?”
Andrew gasps, letting out a sudden laugh as he realizes his friend’s concern. “No, not like that!” he exclaims. “I was in the same room as you and Chayne, remember? The colorful hair fits you!”
“Too late, Drew, ya called me gross ’n sloppy,” he replies in a mockingly sad tone. “The deal’s off.” He curls on his side for a second, giving his back to the startled polecat, before exploding in a booming laugh. “Duuuude, you fall for this shit literally every single time!”
“I hate you...” Andrew shakes his head, chuckling. He barely has time to react before the hog badger hassles him into a headlock in further taunting.
“So, Eddie wants to play the manipulator. Well, guess what? It’s gonna go blow in your face pretty darn soon, bud. Right now, you’re building a hefty case against yourself, more so than the badgers. But if y’all want to keep at it, stay in your stale little kinder scruffle, and I go out to win.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
***
March 9, 2020
12:30 PM
74° F
The sun shines faintly behind the heavy clouds; the group of seven walking out of the Burrow with Ludwig waiting for them in the middle of the courtyard. A long table has been set out just off the front door, the stoat instructing the guys to take their place behind it at regular intervals.
“Welcome back, guys,” he says, addressing the group in a cheerful tone. “Z, how’s the mood going after our mountain forage?”
“Much better, now that I’m sleepin’ on my damn bed!” Z boasts. “I don’t mind camping, but I’d rather not freeze my cuh-jones to death while at it…”
“It’s cojones, Z…” William corrects the hog badger, chuckling at his botched Spanish. “To be honest, Ludwig, the chalet was nothing short of terrific - but to be honest I’m happy to be back to Florida. I got my fill of snow, ice and chilly winds for a good while, I reckon…”
“It’s interesting that the two that first got here as the top two best are the first to reply as well.” Ludwig chuckles. “But as you have seen, a lot has happened in between then and now. Competitors have gone by, friends have been eliminated, dynamics have formed, and you seven remain, almost in the middle of this path. But before we proceed with today’s challenge, I have something to ask you,” the stoat’s features change to an intimidating squint.
“Oh, brother...” Kenneth mutters.
The stoat looks up at the seven. “The top six marks the halfway spot, and that will start after we eliminate the next one of you seven. I want to ask you, who does NOT-”
“Oh my god...” Andrew exclaims, looking away.
“-deserve to place in that final six? Who should go home next, and why?” Ludwig looks around, at the first mustelid in the row. “Kenneth.”
The badger puts his paws on the table, leaning slightly forward. “I’m not gonna mince words, Ludwig…” he says. “I think Eddie’s the least deserving. Nobody here went to duel twice in a row but him. And I think that he’s not adaptable enough… one small nick and he’s lagging behind everyone else. We need to be up to par when push comes to shove, not struggle.”
The giant otter nods, taking in the badger’s remark. “Can’t say I’m surprised,” he shrugs.
“Andrew?” the host goes down the line.
“I’m g-gonna have to say John Blake...” the polecat states, making the white stoat frown from the other edge of the table. “I don’t know if you see what we see in the house, but an Alpha mustelid needs… to be respectful and not be a pain in everyone’s tail,” the youngster paces about his spot.
“Kid is doubling down in saying he wants John out, but that’s great for our plan. The less the badgers think I’m building my own squadron against them, the bigger chance I got to buy myself some more time in here without being cornered at every step.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“William?”
“I agree with Andrew, I’m saying John,” William shrugs, to the stoat’s head shaking. “I don’t think he has… proven himself enough, or as much as others, and he has not stood out on his own.”
“Are you kidding me?” the stoat can’t hold himself. “I’m the only one here who won four team challenges out of five. You all happy when you got me on your team, but then you throw me under the bus as soon as you get the chance?” he asks, crossing arms over his chest.
“Arron, what says you?” Ludwig asks.
After a brief, pained expression, the honey badger looks up. “This hurts to say, but I’m going to have to say William. He’s a great man, but I’m just seeing the track record between all of us, and he’s not the one we saw win an automatic finalist spot weeks ago. No offense.”
The weasel acknowledges the firefighter with a nod of his head. “None taken...”
“Eddie, you’re next,” the host speaks up.
“Look, Ludwig…” the giant otter begins. “I’m mature enough to recognize the track record and not be going off who I simply can’t stand,” he says, shooting an icy glare at Kenneth. “I’m gonna go with Arron and say William, too. Nothing personal, man. I just wish it wasn’t that way,” he turns to the weasel with a softer look.
“Z? Answer up.”
The hog badger looks to his side to the positively seething white stoat. “I gotta say Johnny,” he shrugs. “Ya can’t treat others like they ain't shit and think that’s being an Alpha commander, and we all have been caps at least one before, be it for a thing or other.”
“Keep running your mouth, pig…” John crosses his paws on top of his chest. “You got it coming...”
Ludwig huffs in the stoat’s direction. “So John, you’ve been called out by a few, it seems… What do you think?”
The jailer throws his hands to point behind him. “Zakee and Andrew, both of them, out...” he says, to the bewilderment of the youngster, as the mechanic flattens his ears because of John’s raised tone.
“Why so?” Ludwig looks intently at the stoat.
“Zakee… he’s just been treating this like a circus, and I think he’s just being a phony,” the stoat curtly answers. “And Andrew, though you had lucky streaks, you’re too green for this. You shoulda turned up in six or seven years' time, once you‘re more mature.”
“I mean, considering I won as captain with him in tow and he couldn’t even manage to get a nod yet… If that’s what he thinks, fine. I also have the right to not give a fuck about it,” Andrew shrugs, the whole group perks up at the youngster’s words, Zakee letting out a low whistle. “He mentioned me and Z because we said him, and he can’t even say one name like all of us...”
“I could have given six,” the stoat replies in a deadpan tone, interrupting the polecat. “You still got a long way to go before you can hang out with the big boys. Deal with it...”
“The more John goes on ranting, the more I feel I’m right in his assessment of him. The guy has no place here in the Burrow, and I’m gonna keep him in my target until the moment he’s packing up his bags.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
Ludwig calls for the attention of the group. “I see we all have strong opinions right now. It seems good that we’re going to… change things around a bit.”
Arron looks up at the change of tone, looking at Kenneth across the table. “What is going on?” he mouths, sort of unsettled about the entire scenario laid out in front of him.
“We are going to open this up with the individual challenge first. Right now, only the best of you seven will prevail. One of you will be guaranteed immunity and will go straight to the final six,” the stoat host grins. The reactions across the table are a mixed bag of both expectation and dread.
“Kicking off with individuals is one hell of a blessing, if you ask me. Finally we’re up against one another, without people covering for the weakest links in the chain. And with a free pass to the last six, this is a must-win for an otter on a crusade. I’m not going back to a fucking duel.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“So far we have tested your physical prowess, strength and abilities to the limit. But if you want to make your way to the final six, this time is all about mental toughness.” The whole group perks up in surprise, some openly happy about the development, others waiting for the catch in the host’s spiel. “Today’s challenge is named Wolf It Down, and will put you against a whole different level of Alpha strength.”
“They gonna have us eat…” William whispers to Andrew on his right.
“What?” the polecat answers in a hush. “I didn’t sign up for this…”
*the polecat tail flickers as he covers his face with his paws* “I’ve… seen enough of these kinds of shows and dares to know what will come up next. It ain’t gonna be pretty, America.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“This challenge will play out in three rounds,” Ludwig continues, unfazed by the group’s reaction. “The four fastest mustelids to finish the first course will get to the second one, where the top two will move on to face up in the final. The contestant coming on top of the last stage will win immunity and directly move on to the next round, without having to face the team challenge.”
“So there’s a team challenge after all…” John whispers, some of the others looking around in anticipation.
“Well good for you, John, ‘cause this one is as good as done…” Greasy Z chuckles. “I’ve held my own in more eating challenges than I can count. You?”
“I know Johnny’s getting scared that the one he mentioned as the weakest is likely gonna whip his ass in the very next challenge.” *John is shown trying to look unfazed, but the hog badger’s taunts are clearly getting to him* “The tables are gonna turn soon, officer, and there’s little you can do about it…” *chuckles*
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
Production quickly puts covered domes in front of the seven mustelids across the table. “Oh, I forgot to tell you something, guys…” Ludwig adds, as the lids are about to be removed. “You know the saying... ‘Of the pig, nothing goes to waste’? Today, we gonna put it to the ultimate test…” he says with a grin. All the way across the row, Z’s confident smile immediately turns into a worried, fearful look.
“What th’ fuck does that mean?” the hog badger whispers to Eddie.
The giant otter keeps facing forward, cracking his neck in anticipation of the task at hand. “I reckon he’s talking about offal…” he shrugs. “With your eating speed, you likely got this in the bag...”
“‘Bout what now?” Z asks again, his voice shaky, no time for the lutrine to answer before the host instructs the competitors to reveal the plate underneath.
“Oh shit…” Kenneth looks down, laughing worriedly, as six suspicious-looking gelatinous spheres come into sight. “What in the world even is this?”
“These are pig eyeballs, six of them. First four to get ‘em down and show me an empty mouth move on to the next round,” Ludwig says. “Remember, you need to get all six down for the task to be complete. If you throw up, you’re out of the challenge no matter what.”
The hog badger puts his paws in front of his mouth. “Oh no no no…” he mutters under his breath. “I can’t…”
“Listen, on a good day I can… pass down one bite of barbecue, but I got pet pigs at home, I was raised on a farm, I was taught these guys got feelings, I...” *the hog badger shakes his head* “Seeing this shit and being forced to eat it is fucking up with me bad.”
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
“Competitors ready?” Ludwig asks, taking a glance at the whole row before motioning them to step forward. “GO!”
All the mustelids dive into their respective platters, immediately attacking the first eye and starting to chew as their life depended on it. Arron even throws two in his mouth at the same time, his jaws working against the stringy texture to reduce it into a pulp. Only Zakee is taking his time with the first course, tentatively taking a nibble of an eye before backing off in disgust.
“As soon as I take a bite, it just geysers some shit, almost squirts outta my mouth, it’s the most disgusting thing I ever had. But I’m not gonna be forced to do this and not advance to the next round. I’m here to win.”
~John, 36, Stoat, Jailer
“This bloody thing is like… tough on the outside, soft and squishy on the inside. There is a whole lot to chew, it’s just… chew and chew and chew again.” *Andrew is shown as he swallows down his first, looking around in shock as he sees he’s lagging behind most of the others* “I’m trying to focus on anything else other than what I’m doing, but it just won’t go down.”
~Andrew, 22, European Polecat, Roadie
“Ludwig, man…” the hog badger finally protests, struggling to even watch his companions as they get into the task.
“Something the matter, Z?”
Zakee forces himself to chuck two eyeballs into his mouth as a gambit to catch up, but at the instant he bites into the slimy spheres, the mechanic starts to dry heave. He stops in his tracks with the contents still stuck in his palate, worried about puking out the whole thing if he even dares to move.
“Don’t do that shit next to me,” John blurts out, uncaring of anything happening next to him as he wolfs down his third eyeball.
“I can’t…” the hog badger hisses between closed jaws, eventually giving up and retching the whole content of his mouth on his dish and over himself, keeling over.
“Zakee’s out of this challenge,” Ludwig says, the group never breaking their focus from the task as they keep chewing down eye after eye. Arron puts the last two globes in his muzzle, ostentatiously working to choke them down as he closes his eyes, trying to shut out anything but the motion of his jaws. Eventually, he gulps down with a heavy sigh. “Gotcha!” he grunts, immediately leaning forward to show his empty mouth to the host.
“Arron’s through!” Ludwig exclaims. Kenneth swallows his fourth eye, loudly slapping his side of the table in an intent to psych himself up. On the other side, both Eddie and John down their last, attempting to have the contents go down as quick as possible and edge out their opponent.
“Eddie’s through, John’s through!” the host says, only one spot remaining. Despite not being as fast as the others, William is clearly showing better constraint and self-composure than the other six mustelids. The personal trainer grabs his last shot and takes down the last eyeball with no resistance, noticing that Kenneth and Andrew are pretty far behind as it is.
“I’m done,” William says dryly, showing Ludwig his tongue after swallowing down the last eye without too much of a hassle.
Ludwig throws his paws up. “And William’s through, we got our four!” he exclaims. “Kenneth, Andrew, Z, I’m sorry, but you’re all out…” While Kenneth and Andrew nod, dejected their effort was for naught, the hog badger is still kneeling - his paws locked on the edge of the table, clearly feeling unwell and breathing erratically.
“Z? Are you okay?” Ludwig asks, now visibly concerned.
Zakee lifts his eyes. “Nope,” he says, matching the host’s gaze. “I feel like… shit’s becoming hazy now,” he huffs, shaking as anxiety gradually gets the better of him.
William walks to his side, assuredly grabbing the mechanic’s shoulder. “Breathe, Z, breathe...” Most of the other competitors look at the scene in growing discomfort, Andrew immediately joining William in placating the hog badger.
“I think he’s panicking, guys,” the polecat comments, as Ludwig immediately motions to Dr. Paul to walk in and escort the mustelid from the scene.
“For so little?” John snarks. “Hey, it seems like I was spot on before, right?” he rhetorically asks the group, paws planted on his hips. “Not even my kid throws up all over himself like he did…”
“Just stop,” Eddie hisses, added weight in his deep voice.
“I can’t tell what might be going on in Z’s head, but it’s not good. The least I can do is to try to make sure he’s at least stable before anything else.” *Z is shown drinking water from a sports bottle, being talked to by medical personnel* “He might be my competition, but that’s no excuse to not care about my peers.”
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
After a pause, the host directs to the group. “Alright, Zakee’s in the Burrow with our medical staff, and he’s safe. So yeah, I guess we’re going to continue,” Ludwig announces. A second serving is already being wheeled over by an assistant, four covered dishes being set up in front of the remaining competitors. “William, John, Eddie, Arron, are you ready?”
“As I’ll ever be...” the honey badger scoffs, frowning as the host motions the group to open the lids.
“This challenge is a must win for me. It’s the first time we’re facing one another to prove we’re the best, not just to save us from elimination.” *the honey badger takes off the silver dome, making a face at the fleshy item underneath* “Whatever this is, I need to get it down faster than the others. Final six and Alpha bragging rights are at stake.”
~Arron, 28, Honey Badger, Firefighter
As soon as the plate’s content is revealed, the four contestants all get a puzzled look, unsure what exactly was what they were looking at. However, William has an inkling of suspicion at second look, only letting a chuckling sigh as a response, waiting for the rest.
“What even...” John crosses his eyes, taking a step back. “Ludwig, what is this?”
The host’s expression is sporting an almost Machiavellian grin. “To put it educatedly, female pig genitalia,” he chuckles, taking in the shocked gasp of the contestants. “Don’t make that face, it is regularly sold and eaten in a number of countries…”
Andrew and Kenneth can’t stop snickering at the scenario, the polecat grabbing the badger’s shoulder and shaking it. “Aren’t you glad you lost now, Ken? I know I am!” he comments.
“Fuck yeah…” the badger retorts, struggling to keep his gaze on the remaining contestants as they get ready to consume their second dish. “Legit can’t even stomach the thought of watching them eat that thing, looks crazy gross...”
“Remember, the first two to finish it all are moving to the final round and you are instantly out if you upchuck,” the host advises the contestants. “Get through it, keep it down, show me an empty mouth and your chances to be immune will be doubled.”
“This isn’t gonna be nice...” Andrew winces, as Ludwig gives the signal to start to the other contestants. All four immediately throw themselves onto the meaty flesh, but some sort of hesitation immediately kicks in among the whole group.
*chuckles, shaking his head* “No one wants to come across as the one who can’t eat… that. But this is not only tough, but everything about it is just… off. It takes a lot of mental strength to get this down.”
~Arron, 28, Honey Badger, Firefighter
“With the eyes, it’s mostly like chewing down some kind of very stringy gelatine. You can easily pretend it’s that and turn off your mind enough to swallow ‘em down.” *Eddie is shown taking a big bite of his serving, his eyes scrunched close as he chews* “This one is a lot juicier, more flavorful… and not in a good way. There’s no use pretending it’s something else, so it might as well go down the gullet.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“I see all four are getting into the action!” Ludwig exclaims, as neither of the four is willing to be left behind by the rest. Halfway through his plate, though, the white stoat starts to cough up loudly - throwing his progress off as he begins to gag on the piece of meat he got between his fangs.
“John’s losing it…” Andrew comments, nudging Kenneth. The badger looks up, halfway between disgusted and worried, as he realizes both the jailer and Arron are having issues with the task - his closest friend in the Burrow spitting some on his paw as he feels his gag reflex kick in, heavily breathing in and out to calm himself. His expression changes as he sees a third mustelid.
“But look, William’s going at it like it’s popcorn. He hasn’t even winced,” Kenneth comments, impressed. “What if he wins this whole thing?”
Indeed, the weasel is taking in to the task with a lot more confidence than his opponents, methodically going through smaller bites of meat yet never relenting. “Him and Eddie are locked in,” the polecat says, matter-of-factly - a bigger frown forming on the badger’s muzzle as he realizes his lutrine rival is making big progress as well.
“I guess I just got a better threshold than these guys...” *shrugs* “I’m not spooked by food, I know where it comes from and what we leave behind, so I truly believe this is mine to take, as long as my rhythm is quick and I can keep it down, I’ll be back on track to winning these challenges.”
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
While most were soon to be done with their plate, a loud hurking sound pierces the challenge area. John is not looking as well as the other three, clutching the table’s edges with his paws as he desperately tries to finish his serving. On the other side of the table, William is thrown off by the sounds coming off the stoat’s throat - the weasel stopping in his tracks with one last small bit of meat on his plate as he spots the jailer doubled over, soon stepping away from the table before puking up his guts.
“John is out of the challenge...” Ludwig points out to the disoriented stoat. Soon after, a jeer is heard from the other edge of the table, the otter showing the host his empty mouth before immediately stepping back. “And two seconds later, Eddie is through! It’s now between Arron and William!”
Arron’s jaws are working overtime to close the gap, the honey badger still struggling with the tangy flavor of the meat. Noticing his opponent is getting a second wind, William snaps out of his distraction and forces himself to rush in that one last bite; a struggle at first to down the stringy offal without much chewing, but with a resounding clap he manages to swallow it down and signal to Ludwig. “I’m good!”
The host walks forward, inspecting the weasel’s fangs before throwing his paws up. “And William’s through!” he compliments him, Kenneth letting out a huff from the loser’s bench as he takes in the sight of Arron smacking the table in disappointment.
“Being at the mercy of another challenge after being knee-deep in this particular one is awful, but Eddie possibly being safe this round just makes it all worse. I am really hoping William can improve his track record.”
~Arron, 28, Honey Badger, Firefighter
“John, Arron, move over to the bench…” Ludwig says. As he makes his way to sitting down, Arron spits out that last bite he had with conviction, amusing the rest of the group.
Howeve, John is clearly not having an agreement with his insides - sitting down somewhat groggily after vomiting profusely, forced to taste all he ate up until that point. “I never… fucking throw up in my life, ever,” the stoat grunts.
Eventually, the two finalists scoot closer to the center of the table, bumping fists as the last serving is wheeled in. “How can this be worse than… what we just had?” William nervously chuckles, turning towards the otter looking as stoic as ever.
“Could be a trick question and not be worse… only more,” Eddie replies as well-willed as he can muster, knowing that the weasel deserved it. At the otter’s words, his opponent visibly gulps - putting on a strong front as Ludwig steps forward once again. “Eddie, William… we’re down to the main course,” he grins. “Once more I’ll remind you, whoever wins this is gonna progress to the next round without having to compete in the team challenge or the following duel - and of course, do you know of our thousand dollar cash prize?”
Both competitors nod, the host visibly grinning. “Well, since this is our first fully individual challenge, how about we double it?”
As Eddie and William clap their paws and cheer, most of the bench look over in shock. “Lucky bastards…” Kenneth mutters under his breath, twirling a strand of his hair as he looks over at the two finalists getting ready to uncover the final dish.
“You ready, guys?” Ludwig asks the final two, motioning them to reveal the plate. At the same time, they let out a huge sigh as the unmistakable shape of a porcine heart appears before their eyes.
“I’ve eaten heart before, so this is in no way shocking for me… I got no issues in tackling this and Eddie would be extremely remiss in counting me out. Right now, I have the opportunity to turn my luck, win immunity and make these guys eat it.”
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
“This heart’s what stands between myself and the beginning of my revenge.” *the otter eyes William, then the content of his dish* “It’s not gonna be nice, it’s not gonna be pleasant, but I’m itching to tear through it like it was one of my rivals’.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“This is a pig’s heart. It weighs about eleven ounces and is mostly made of pure muscle, so get ready to work your teeth and claws,“ Ludwig says, a peculiar silence falling on top of the two contenders as they look forward in determination. “The timer is set at fifteen minutes, and the first one to eat it all and keep it down wins. If none finishes, we will go by weight consumed.”
“You think Will stands a chance?” Kenneth asks the rest of the eliminees, trying to not look grossed out by the host’s words.
“He has eaten everything without even flinching, while Eddie has struggled at times. He would have won last time had Junior not heaved out his innards,” Arron replies, to the stoat’s annoyed glare.
The badger sighs audibly. “We can hope,” he mumbles, as Ludwig gets ready to call the beginning of the final task. “I don’t know if I’ll stand Eddie taking this…”
“Watching this challenge is tough as is, but watching it without being able to do anything about it is way worse. I do hope William is ready to finally step up to the occasion.”
~Kenneth, 24, American Badger, Roofer/CrossFit Instructor
“Eddie, William, you ready?” Ludwig calls out. “GO!”
Otter and weasel lift their heart to their muzzles and sink their fangs into it, juices pouring out as they tear the muscle into bits and get to chew. The first impact with the stringy flesh is tough, but neither competitor dares to flinch as they voraciously feast on the tough, raw meat.
Most of the group cheers William on, the Honduran making the most of his slow-and-steady technique as he shreds the meat into bits and chews them down. Besides him, though, Eddie is tearing through his heart like an otter possessed - his muzzle and paws soon getting stained red, juices running down his chin, the lutrine using mostly his fangs to rip the flesh apart.
“Jesus, this is hard to watch…” Andrew comments, unable to keep his eyes away.
It doesn’t take long before both contenders start slowing in their motions, their senses getting overwhelmed by the foul taste of the meat and the impossibly fibrous texture - forcing them to chew on it repeatedly before swallowing it down, the growing pain in their jaws adding to the discomfort. “Three minutes in, guys…” Ludwig announces, keeping an eye on both challengers as he walks up and down the line. “This is a challenge of endurance as well as mental toughness. You may want to quit anytime, but the stakes have never been this high in here so don’t dare give up,” he encourages the two mustelids.
Eddie is trying to rush down a bite when he suddenly takes a step back, starting to feel his insides ready to heave out their content. Noticing the otter breathing out loudly in an effort to get air into his lungs, Arron taps Kenneth’s shoulder. “That ain’t good...” he whispers.
The badger cocks his head. “He started too fast, now it’s all coming up,” he says. “I can’t fucking look at this…” The Navy veteran shuts his eyes close, seemingly on the point of giving up, but the tough moment is soon over as he swallows down his mouthful and immediately plunges his fangs back into the muscle.
“If Eddie starts gagging and having hesitation at this point, then William can take it, but only if he stops eating so damn slow. Come on Will, get moving! Do something!”
~John, 36, Stoat, Jailer
It’s clear to everyone that Eddie is ahead in the task, the weasel keeping up his methodical motions and refusing to even shoot a glance at his opponent. “Shut… up... “ William growls to the group between mouthfuls as they keep urging him to speed up his pace.
Besides him, the giant otter is getting a second wind after his moment of discomfort. The rest of the group openly supporting his opponent only seems to be spurring him on as he keeps wolfing down the piece of offal, red fluid bursting against his lips every time his fangs clamp on the meat and shred it to bits.
“I know they all wish William would win. Hell, if I was in their spot, I would support William too.” *the otter is shown closing his eyes as he gulps down* “But the truth of the matter is, I need this immunity, I’m not going to be put in a third duel in a row by these guys. And I fucking owe Crispin that much.”
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
“I can sense Eddie is struggling to keep up, I would bet he is even close to spilling his guts out. I’m kicking up the pace last second and that way I can catch him up, be it weight or by finishing this thing at once.” *the weasel starts taking bigger mouthfuls, showing less struggle than the otter to swallow his pieces down*
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
“Ten minutes, guys…” Ludwig takes a step back, enthralled by both mustelids’ determination as they keep attacking their hearts. Shooting a quick glance, Eddie can see William starting to catch up on him, although he still has a lot to eat compared to the lutrine. With a heavy grunt and a pull of his paws, he rips whatever’s left of the muscle into two and puts half of it in his muzzle at once, his aching jaws immediately going to chew as he closes his eyes and breathes out with his nose in an attempt to block the discomfort.
“He’s going at it like a fucking feral…” Andrew says, covering his mouth with both paws as the group watches in dreadful trepidation. “What if he gets this?”
“That’d be a hell of a comeback after his shitty luck last time...” John replies in a deadpan tone, both badgers visually tensed up as the giant otter swallows again on the huge mouthful. With a predatory glint in his eyes, he throws himself on that last bit of corded meat, his dripping fangs sinking into it without any hesitation.
“You think we can try grossing him out?” Kenneth turns towards Arron.
The honey badger lets out a sigh. “Doubt so, if all the stuff they ate hasn't done so...” he comments.
Both watch in trepidation as Eddie’s throat tenses up in a small cough, the otter getting caught off guard by the sudden contraction as he tries to keep down the content of his stomach. “Oh shit, here it goes…” the roofer whispers excitedly, trying to get the lutrine’s attention. “Ed… how Alpha will it be when you puke out your guts?” he asks in a loud tone, putting heavy emphasis on the last few words.
The otter barely cuts his attention from his chewing for just one second to show the middle finger to the badgers on the bench, who snicker amusedly in response. “Wait and see, he’s gonna lose it…” Kenneth elbows Arron, looking intently as Eddie is fighting to control his stomach’s convulsions. For a second, the lutrine seems on the verge of giving up, every bone in his body frozen in tension except for his jaws - until he forcefully slams his paws on the table, swallowing the last bite and baring his open muzzle to Ludwig between heavy pants.
The host steps forward, closely examining the insides of the giant otter’s mouth, then throws his paws in the air. “And Eddie wins safety!” he loudly exclaims, the Navy veteran pumping both fists in celebration as William dejectedly puts down what remains of his heart.
As soon as he manages to catch up his breath, Eddie roars at the top of his lungs, startling the rest of the group as well as Ludwig. “Ain’t going FUCKING NOWHERE!” he yells, looking straight into Kenneth’s eyes as he walks around the table with a menacing look in his eyes - his muzzle and most of his front visibly stained by the heart’s juices and adding to his animalistic display. “Damn right, this otter’s immune...” he says, pointing a fingerclaw towards the badger before setting in front of the host.
“Alright, Eddie, you won the challenge and the additional $2,000 cash reward, but most importantly… you will skip the next team challenge and progress straight to the next phase,” Ludwig says, patting the giant otter on the back. “As for the rest of you plus Greasy Z, we’re gonna meet tomorrow for the next one. Go back to the Burrow, I’ll see y’all later…”
“After two straight duels, I finally get to relax and I’m back in the winner’s circle, baby.” *the camera focuses on the six making their way back to the Burrow* “This one was especially dire, as it is the first peek at the ‘every mustie for himself’ phase, and I fucking killed it. Once the one-on-ones come in full swing, I’ll be waiting.” *smirks*
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
***
The camera hovers above Z, who is splayed on the biggest sofa in the room, his paws behind his head and his eyes closed.
*the hog badger grunts* “I’m honestly embarrassed right now. This challenge didn’t just expose one of my shortcomings, it nuked it. Right now, I feel my gas tank is running empty and my spark plugs have burst. It’s horrible.”
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
One of his ears swivels at the cacophony of the rest of his rivals coming back in from the challenge. “Hey, someone home?” Kenneth calls loudly, the hog badger not caring to answer as the entire group fills into the living room.
John closes the door behind himself. “Wouldn’t be surprised that he’d packed his stuff and went back to Texas…” he says to the badger.
“Here...” Zakee says, ignoring the stoat’s words. “Who’s safe from the choppin’?” he asks, notably less energetic than his usual boisterous self.
“Eddie, naturally…” Andrew says, immediately rushing to his friend’s side. “He eats like 20 thousand calories a day, so… What about you, dude? What went on?”
Zakee sharply inhales through his teeth. “I don’t wanna talk much about it. I just freaked out, that’s all.”
“Yeah, but like…” the polecat scratches the back of his neck. “We all had our ups and downs in here. Dude, I lost my freakin’ board shorts on the very first challenge…” he reminds the mechanic with a snicker. “Why is this different?”
The hog badger clearly doesn’t feel comfortable being asked with the bunch of rivals around him, trying to direct Andrew to divert the topic, using his eyes to communicate his intentions, looking at the set of stairs leading to their rooms.
The polecat immediately gets the hint. “Guys, who’s in for a couple beers? We oughta wash out this shitty taste from our mouths,” he motions to the group, most people perking up at the suggestion.
“Finally, someone says it!” Kenneth states in a huff, cracking up a couple of the other mustelids. “I swear I still got goo between my teeth...”
Andrew smiles. “Aight, you go ahead, I’ll join you on the patio after I’ve managed to empty my bladder…” he says, making his way upstairs as the rest of the group heads back outside.
*camera shows both Andrew and Z walking to their room, the hog badger laying on his bed while Andrew sits next to him* “Drew’s the only one I’m really completely comfortable with at the moment, and I know it won’t backfire if I spill my... guts... to.”
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
“So, can you tell me what went on out there?” the polecat asks in a concerned tone.
“Long story short, a guy that can’t stand to eat pork gets thrown into that and gets his mind fried, man...” Zakee shakes his head. “It’s something I don’t really tell anyone. If I’m invited to a barbecue, I’ll pass on the roasted pork, maybe take a bite or two if people prod, but nothing more ‘n that. So like, don’t wanna sound weak or anythin’, but to have that thrown at me in the worst possible way?”
“Cuz your pet pigs or somethin’ else?” Andrew asks, somewhat confused, but understanding of his friend.
“Picture if you’re served roasted Dobermann while you got one at home,” Zakee replies. “My pigs are more than that, I legit roll around with ‘em like they were my little kids... I know Pa and Ma raise their own for sellin’ to eat, but I managed to be all “‘kay, that’s life” ‘bout it as long as I didn’t see it, you know?” he asks back, the young polecat nodding along. “Again, ain’t gonna spazz at the sight a’ bacon, but you can’t pull that shit and force me to deal with the raw stuff. My mind goes to the piglets.”
“I get it now, dude…” Andrew scoots closer to the hog badger. “I know it fuckin’ sucks, but that’s gone now. You still can make it through this round if you can get your act together,” he tries to reassure him. “We gettin’ to the end Texas strong, right?”
Zakee chuckles dryly. “You bet. Just give me a while to forget this shit happened.”
Andrew pokes the hog badger’s mid-section. “Now come on, before the rest drink all the beer and leave us shit dry...” Both guys get up, bumping fists before making their way downstairs and out to the patio.
Meanwhile, the rest of the group has cracked open the few beers they could buy with their daily allowance, passing the bottles around in a close circle as they comment on the challenge. Most players are trying to put a strong front at their most dreaded outcome coming to fruition, but William is sort of tuning out of the conversation, still brooding over being outdone by Eddie in the final round.
“This sucks. I had that big statement challenge right on my grasp, I was finally on a battle ground I thought I could win, but… it’s back to the drawing board. This ain’t going to stop me, they’ll better be ready.”
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
John can’t help but shake this feeling off his head, with the alcohol eventually playing as a funnel for his unfiltered thoughts. “So guys, did you think Z’s faking it?”
“What do you mean, faking it?” Arron shoots a look to the stoat.
“The panic attack and all that shit. I’m not pretending the challenge was easy on anyone here, but he’s the only one who got all fucking dramatic outta the blue. Being escorted out by medical and all,” the jailer answers at Arron. “I tell ya, something don’t smell right here. Call it the perks of my day job.”
“Sure,” Eddie scoffs, looking over at Andrew and Zakee finally joining the rest. “Big words coming from someone who couldn’t even eat pussy,” the lutrine says, unsealing a bottle with a pull of his claws before passing it to the polecat - him accepting it gratefully and taking a long swig of the cool liquid.
*the camera shows the stoat frowning, then focusing on a cheerier Zakee* “I know something’s wrong. If everyone thinks it, I’ll be the first one who says “fuck it” and I’ll ask it.”
~John, 36, Stoat, Jailer
“What took ya two this long?” John asks up.
The polecat grunts. “I told ya, went for a piss…”
“Cut him some slack, can’t be easy enough to pee with that metal thing on the end of his tip...” Kenneth jokes, the rest of the group cracking a laugh at the badger’s jab.
“We were discussing the challenge, so you two’re just on time,” the stoat says, flicking the tip of his tail as he shoots a grin to the group. “Mainly like... what even happened on that first cut?”
“I don’t agree at all with what John is planning to do. It’s as bold as it is stupid, I’ll tell you that, brother...”
~Arron, 28, Honey Badger, Firefighter
“Hey man…” Andrew puts up one paw, realizing what the jailer is hinting at. “Do we need to keep talking about it all day long? Aren’t you wishing to forget it quick? I know I am!”
“I’m just thinking, we haven’t had a medevac since Crispin, so we gotta ask it up, cuz the... group… gotta... know,” John says, punctuating his words as if talking to a stubborn child. Zakee tries to shrink from the group, knowing exactly what was happening.
“I’m not a little kid, Blake,” Zakee finally speaks up, his attitude clearly souring.
“Well, answer the first time I ask and I won’t talk to you like you’re one,” John insists.
“Zakee’s just absolutely fake. He is just a childish ditzy lowlife trying to play pretend and make excuses for his poor performances.”
~John, 36, Stoat, Jailer
Andrew sighs, annoyed. “John, what’s that gonna do?” he asks, the stoat remaining unfazed. Even Eddie shoots a knowing look to the badgers, agreeing the situation was likely to go awry.
The hog badger shoots the jailer a look, a low sigh drifting from his muzzle. “What’s there to answer?” he asks, his voice slightly cracking. “I’ve had a moment. Like most people here.”
“No moment requires you to be babied like you did,” John comments, shooting a look. “So, what went on?”
“Who are ya to answer to?” Zakee cuts the stoat, in a clearly angrier tone. “Ya don’t speak to people like that!”
“And you don’t fucking fool anyone,” the stoat retorts. “Faking a panic attack to get some sympathy points and excuse yourself from failing? That’s low, buddy. Not even my inmates would pull off that shit…”
Zakee now starts to raise his voice. “Hey, I don’t play that shit and this place is not your fucking jail!” he grits his teeth, intimidating the bystanding mustelids, who never saw that side of the hog badger.
“How can this guy talk to me like that? Did I fucking call him an asshole for behaving like one ever since that first fucking bus ride? No!” *visibly shakes in anger* “So why is he so fucking invested in shaming me in front of everyone?”
~Greasy Z, 29, Hog Badger, Automobile Mechanic
“John, guys, not now, there ain’t need for this shit,” Kenneth insists to the group, mainly to the stoat.
William steps closer to the group, “Can you quit it?” he sternly asks.
“What kinda man are you?” Zakee growls. “Shit, what kinda dad are ya if you go treatin’ and raisin’ your son this fucking way?”
The stoat’s features immediately turn from mocking to dead serious, before smashing his open palm on the table and getting on Z’s face. “DO NOT DARE BRING MY SON INTO THIS!”
“Oh, I fucking WILL, Blake!” the hog badger insists, unfazed by the display. “If you want to fucking play detective, I can ask hard shit too!”
“I RAISE MY KID TO NOT BE A LOSER LIKE YOU!” John bares his fangs, having to be contained by Arron, while Andrew and Eddie get in between the two feuding competitors. “You’re fucking twenty-nine and still playing around like a punk kid… Who the fuck can take you seriously now?”
“John, fucking STOP it!” Andrew bares his fangs to the jailer.
“People want you out because you’re an asshole and will never be a role model for fucking anyone!” Zakee points, his voice raising up an octave as Eddie holds his arms to separate the tension. “You ain’t an Alpha, you’re a damn embarrassment!”
“Comin’ from you, that’s rich,” the jailer says, his tone full of disdain, now slightly placated as the hog badger keeps thrashing against the lutrine. “I’d be more embarrassed to be still living with my family as a grown-ass adult, without making somethin’ out of my shitty life...”
“IT IS FUCKING NOT YOUR BUSINESS, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Z yells, fruitlessly lashing at the jailer before getting dragged away to the inside of the Burrow, part of the group staying with John. “I’M THE LAST GUY YOU EVER FUCKING WANNA MESS WITH!”
“Take him out of here, take him out of here...” William commands the group to separate both feuding parties.
“Hey, what did I even say…” John raises his paws, as Kenneth and Arron escort him away from the confrontation. “Not my fault that moron can’t handle the truth…”
“Holy shit, this became deadly serious; I had to stop a murder from taking place for crying out loud. If John decides to keep hitting below the belt, things are going to get worse.” *the otter is shown calming Z down alongside Andrew and William*
~Eddie, 32, Giant Otter, Demolition Foreman
Arron gets to John’s face, with Kenneth on the side. “Listen, John, I don't know what’s your plan, but this ain’t it,” the honey badger says.
The stoat frowns, his fangs bared at the firefighter. “Arron, you know he came for my son, you can’t play that shit...”
“John, don’t do it, we can’t have that, and you know it ain’t your business,” Kenneth puts his paw down. “I don’t like whatever you trying to play, so cut it out,” he growls.
The jailer lets out a snort. “I’m not playing, buddy,” he says. “I’m damn serious here. If he gets anywhere near me, he’s gonna get that fuckin’ grin he always got stuck on his muzzle in a place where the sun don’t shine.”
“You just don’t fucking GO doing that,” Kenneth insists, staring John down. “If you do that shit, then I ain’t responding for what I need to do. And you know damn well you ain’t getting anywhere without me and ‘Ron,” he says.
“This is not the game I want to play. If this is the price of tagging with John to our benefit, then it’s not worth it. He can get eliminated for all I care, but I’m not going to go to the end with this kind of baggage in tow. Ken and I need to really talk out how are we gonna progress.”
~Arron, 28, Honey Badger, Firefighter
Inside of the Burrow, the other half of the group is trying his best to calm a hog badger shaking with anger. Andrew tries to get his friend’s attention. “It’s alright Zakee. Don’t do this to me, I can’t have you lose your shit right now.”
“I don’t fucking care about this anymore,” the mechanic hisses between gritted teeth. “That man shamed me in front of the entire country. Being called a liar and a fuckin’ overgrown bum when I’m actually recoverin’ from a damn panic attack? Nothing is worth that shit.”
“Stay right here, we will keep him away, we will get through this,” Eddie says.
“You just oughta pray, Eddie…” Zakee growls. “Pray that me and him never face each other until he’s sent packing.”
“Stay right here, cuz I don’t want him coming at you or viceversa,” Andrew cuts the group, as the other trio starts making his way inside the Burrow, attempting their best to keep them apart.
“YOU PUSHED ME TO THE FUCKING LIMIT!” Zakee yells as soon as he sees the stoat, his voice cracking from exerting his vocal chords.
John lets out a smirk, arms crossed over his chest as he stands between Kenneth and Arron. “Guess I was right… clown,” he says calmly, the hog badger struggling against Eddie and Andrew as he tries to get free to reach his rival.
“John, that’s enough,” Arron states, glaring at the stoat.
William looks at both groups, standing in the middle of the room. “I gotta say something,” he calls for the attention of all. “We are here to determine the Alpha between all of us, the pinnacle of mustelid well-being. This kind of energy, low-blows, and attitude is fucking embarrassing to me. Can we agree to put this behind?” he asks with weight in his voice.
“The higher the stakes get, the more fur will be flying in here. These people are seeing the title at paw’s reach, so it’s not surprising to me that they’re getting more and more aggressive as it goes.” *sighs* “Somehow, every conflict and fight that has happened so far, John had something to do with it, and without a doubt this is him at his worst. I guess we can all agree to kick the dead weight out of the Burrow.”
~William, 34, Least Weasel, Personal Trainer
***
