Squirrel Girl stood in the sand of a beach that didn’t really exist, breathing in the air that didn’t exist but was formulated for their consumption, and playing host to a game that, well, unfortunately existed, though she was eager to watch it. Excited, even.
The beach seemed to be like any
other beach. The waves sounded as real. The wind as cool and refreshing. The
smell of salt brought back memories. The sun beamed as if it was Earth.
It wasn’t.
All holographic. All fake. All for
ratings.
But something was missing.
Something was off. It was on the tip of her tail…or maybe it had something to
do with her tail. She’d figure it out.
“Welcome to the first, and probably
only, season of Marvel Survivor Island.” Squirrel Girl clapped her hands with
all the excitement of a fan-girl. “Cause I am.” She winked toward no one. Not
even a camera.
“It’s too
warm for those full bodied costumes.” Squirrel Girl pressed a button and all
the costumes changed into swimming trunks, shirts, bikinis or whatever they’d
wear to the beach. She did a lot of research. It was creepy.
Jamie Madrox’s eyes widened, and he sighed when he saw he still wore his specialized shirt.
She dug her feet into the white sand grinning at twenty-seven heroes plucked from comfort, fighting, dining or whatever. None appeared pleased about their new surroundings. Except Deadpool.
“How can
you tell if I’m pleased?” He looked down toward his pants and then pointed to
his face. “Mask.”
“Shut-up
black, red and dumb. My forth-wall, not yours. Butt out.”
“Why have
thy taken me? What abduction is this?” Thor pointed his hammer toward Squirrel
Girl.
She grinned.
“Mighty godling, let me explain this mighty predicament to you and,” she
gestured to everyone, “everyone else.” She bowed. “And Deadpool.” She glared at
him… “…with hate.”
“I’m
glaring at you with more hate.” Deadpool glared at Squirrel Girl. “WITH HATE!”
She
shrugged. “Mask.”
Deadpool
Growls. “WITH HATE!”
“Calm down,
Wade. No need to get your ego in a panty.” Wolverine picked his teeth with a
single middle blade.
“That’s so
2000 X-Men first film.” Deadpool folded his arms.
A man in a
blue, multi-pocketed shirt turned in a circle looking at every ounce of beach
he could take in. “Where am I?”
Squirrel
Girl jumped and turned. “Oh, right. You.” She clasped her hands. “I didn’t
forget. I just misplaced you in my thoughts.”
“You’re
dressed as a giant squirrel.” He closed his eyes, rubbed his temples and took a
deep breath. “I don’t know what I drank or who put what in my drink, but I
cannot wait to wake up and swear it off forever. That time couldn’t come quick
enough.”
“No, no, no
Mr. Probst, this isn’t a dream.” Squirrel Girl moved toward him, reaching out
her hands. “It’s real. It’s just not your
real or the real you came from that those reading are used to…either.” Again
she winked to no one. “Right, this is a book. No pictures. No point in doing
that anymore.”
Mr. Probst glanced
around. “I don’t see any cameras. Who are you talking to?”
Squirrel
Girl pulled out a remote. “There are cameras.” She pressed a button. Several
floated in the air around everyone on the beach. “Not many people here are
going to be happy about who they belong to.” She looked at Cyclops. “Sorry.”
“Mojo?”
Cyclops raised his eyebrows. “You’re working with that fat slob?”
Squirrel
Girl shook her head. “This is failing at a rate faster than nuts in spring
time. I assure you this isn’t as bad as it seems. I need everyone to just calm
down.”
“What do you mean marvel?” Emma Frost picked at her fingers. “I see nothing worth marvling over here.” She scoffed and turned away from Jean Grey. “Ginger.”
Jean Grey’s
eyes glowed a red-orange and flames flickered. “Care to go round two?”
“Ladies.
Ladies.” Squirrel Girl held up her hands. “We haven’t started the game—”
Guns
clicked. “I don’t play games.” Domino grinned. “Send me back.”
“What is
going on? This looks like a comic book come to life.” Mr. Probst gawked. The
floating cameras moved up and down avoiding anyone from touching them and at
the same time trying to get every angle imaginable. He stared at one. “Call
someone. Anyone. I’ve been kidnapped.”
Squirrel
Girl groaned and fell to the sand, crossing her legs. “I didn’t want to have to
do this.”
“What?” Mr.
Probst asked.
“This.” She
pressed another button on the remote and everyone, including Mr. Probst, fell
silent. They sat in the sand as if they were in kindergarten getting ready for
story time. And no one moved. She stood. “Better.” She smirked at Deadpool.
“Much better.”
He growled.
And mumbled something unintelligible.
“His M.O.”
Squirrel Girl smirked. “Mr. Probst, or as I like to call him, Jeffrey, is going
to tell you all how we’re going to play this game.” She dialed a number into
the remote.
He shook
his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re the
host of Survivor.”
“Yeah, in
America. With rules. Not a place where you can just kidnap—” He disappeared.
“He’s useless. Whines too much. Useless.” Squirrel Girl dropped her shoulders. “He’ll be back in my tent. He’ll teach me how to be a host and then I can send him back.” She turned to the twenty-seven heroes. “As for all you lovelies, I’m the host of this important game.”
She changed
her voice in a mock tone. “What kind of important?’
She
reverted back to her normal voice. “The important kind.”
“What does
that even mean?” Looking to the right she pretended she was actually speaking
to another person. When she wasn’t.
“Or I was.
It means that if we don’t play this game that the world will be in grave
danger.”
“What
kind?”
“The deadly
kind.”
She rolled
her eyes at her own statement, by the way. “Just tell the story. What do you
mean deadly?”
“Well, to make matters more serious, this game is going to either entertain Mojo or it won’t. And if it doesn’t, well he’s going to invade Earth with a bunch of bomb babies and kill a bunch of people who love babies and that’s going to be a baby lovin’ mess and we can’t have that.”
“Oh. So we
have to play the game?”
“Yes. And
if we can make it through the entire season without incident, no bomb babies
will be used and we have saved the world. And the babies.”
“Why were
these twenty-seven picked?”
Squirrel
Girl beheld the twenty-seven heroes sitting in forced silence. “I thought they
were the best for the job. That they’d be the most entertaining. Oh, and I have
one more surprise.” She pressed a button on the remote.
Forge appeared hair in every direction but combed. He needed a shower, his clothes needed washing and he probably smelled worse than his appearance. Squirrel Girl didn’t flinch at any stench. Good sign. He waved with excitement reserved for someone that couldn’t wait for an event to start.
“Forge will
be creating all the challenges that’ll be power accommodating.”
“Glad to be
of service.” He waved a wrench in his other hand.
“Why are
you glad to be of service? I kidnapped you as I did everyone else.”
“I was
bored. This’ll keep me entertained. I need that. I’m important again.” He
grinned. “Well, at least for a little while.” He hanged his head.
She shook
hers. “Silly.” Pressed another button and Forge disappeared.
“I hope that you have all seen at least one episode of Survivor.” She looked at everyone and everyone looked at her. No one gave any indication that they heard her. “I hate this freeze button. I can’t tell if anyone’s paying attention. Especially Deadpool. I hate that mask. It not only blocks me from seeing your gross face, but it’s just a stupid mask. Looks like a five-year-old’s failed awesome project for craft’s class. Second rate crappy.”
She pulled
the remote close to her mouth and said, “Split into tribes.” She clapped. “I
picked the names. I hope they make you giggle.”
Three mats
materialized on the sand at different locations. Each mat had its own special
colored flag that had a name written on it.
“Tribe one is called Monkey Joe.” – Red
“Tribe two is called Slippy Pete” – Gold
“Tribe three is called Tippy-Toe” – Orange
“And yes, all named after
squirrels of mine. The honor is yours.” She lifted her right leg and smirked.
“Anyway, with a press of a button you’ll all be teleported to your very own
part of the island where you’ll set up camp, make fire, find food and wait for
the immunity challenge, where a tribe will lose and the losers will go to tribal
council where they’ll have to listen to me ask them lots of probing questions.”
She paused and laughed. “Probst.” She clapped her hands again. “Exciting.”
“I hate monkeys.” Deadpool folded
his arms.
“Too bad.” Squirrel Girl pulled
out squares from her belt’s pouch. “And here.” She tossed one to each tribe.
“More information on what’s going on.” She hit a button and everyone teleported
away. She appeared in a tent somewhere off in the digital island.
Jeff shot to his feet. “Why didn’t
you do research on YouTube? You don’t need me.”
“I don’t do YouTube.” She wiggled
her fingers. “Ruins my nails.”
“What?”
Squirrel Girl said, “Jeff, can I
call you Jeff?” She waited two seconds. “Jeffrey, how do you run Survivor?”
Jeff stared at her. “You’re
dressed as a squirrel.” He looked her up and down.
“We’ve been over this.” She
nodded. “My name is Squirrel Girl.” She wagged her tail.
“Not a question.” Jeff pinched
himself.
“Technically,” she turned around
and allowed her tail to dance, “it’s real.”
Jeff pinched himself, again.
“Where am I and why am I here?”
Her eyebrows danced. “Another
universe.” She grabbed two mugs and filled them with coffee. “Come. Sit.
Discuss.” She placed the steaming mugs on the table, sat and patted the empty
seat.
Jeff walked over, but didn’t sit.
He folded his arms. “This isn’t any universe.”
“I’m from the Milky Way, just like
you.” She shrugged. “Just not from the same Milky Way. This place we’re in
now.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s different. It’s devious, icky and stupid.”
“I can’t wait to wake-up.” Jeff
sat. He pulled his mug toward him. “I was never a comic book reader. How I
could dream of people I never read about…?”
Squirrel Girl placed a finger to
her lips. “I know that we’re in a comic book and that stupid brain dressed as a
deranged ninja Santa knows, but everyone else believes this is the only
reality. The main 616 one.” She
took a sip of the coffee and made a face. “Ugh, juice is better.”
Jeff took another sip. “Not as bad
as one would think.”
“The writers have to get something
right.” Squirrel Girl spun around as if not knowing where to settle her eyes.
“No offense.”
“Who—nevermind.” Jeff snickered.
“So if I help you be a host, I’m free to wake up?”
“Sure. You’re not asleep, though.”
Squirrel Girl went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of apple juice
and poured herself a glass. After drinking some, she smiled. “Much better.” She
shivered. “Makes my tail tingle.”
Jeff’s eyes widen. “Uh, let’s get
down to business, then.” He held up his hand. “Before I teach, explain to me
what the hell’s going on.”
She skipped back to the table.
“You believe it’s real, now?”
Jeff shook his head. “No. If the
dream starts to make sense, then I might be forced to believe it’s real.”
Squirrel Girl’s shoulders and tail
drop as if a weight pulled them down. “That’s not happening for you and the
readers. I’ll give you an explanation.”
“Readers…? Again, nevermind. The quicker this passes the less time I have to spend in abomination land.”
She touched her chest. “I’ve met Abomination and this is much better. Mojoverse might be an attention whore’s paradise, but it’s not Abomination. Feel blessed.”
Jeff sighed. “Go on. Explain.” He
slouched in his chair.
“Mojo is a fat jaundice looking meatbag. He’s literally spineless and needs mechanical spider-legs to get him around.” She puffed out her cheeks and rocked side to side in her chair. “Anyway, he has baby-napped the X-Babies and A-Babies. He’ll strap bombs to them and attack earth if he’s not fully entertained by this game.”
“I don’t know those people…”
She put her clawed hand on his
shoulder as if to comfort him for some reason. “I know. I can fill you in.”
He shook his head. “Nah, get to
why this game and why me.”
“Right. Mojo is a ratings lover. He needs high ratings. Survivor is a fantastic game. Mojo loves fantastic, plus death and violence. But Survivor is only fantastic. It does, however, have high drama and entertainment. It was a safe sale. I sold it.” She leaned back and rolled her neck. “Better than the alternative. We play it out, give him high ratings, save the A and X-Babies and eventually save the world. Yet again. All in a hard 39 day’s work. Or longer.”
Jeff sat up. “Can I meet him?”
Squirrel Girl shook her finger in
the air as if stirring. “He’d want to keep you in a museum.” She grimaced. “I
advise against that.” She stood and walked behind a dressing screen. “You can
tell me if I look the part. In a minute.”
Jeff sipped on his coffee. “Why
me?”
Her voice sounded distant for a
moment, probably pulling a shirt over her head. “You’re a great host.” The
shirt flew over the screen and landed near his feet. “I want to be a great
host.” Her brown stockings flung in another direction, over his head.
Jeff sunk in his chair. “I’ll give you tips and you return me.”
Squirrel Girl hopped out from
behind the screen dressed in khaki shorts and a deep blue-two-pockets-on-the-breast
short-sleeve shirt. And a black hat with the logo on it that said: Marvel
Island Survivor. She tossed out her hands as if wanting a hug from anyone that
loved her style. “You love it, huh Jeffrey?” Her tail waved behind her.
His eyes squinted. “It’s like you
went into my closet.”
“I did.” She ran over and pinched his cheeks. “Which means you can’t say you hate, cause you are wearing the same thing.” She wrapped her left arm around Jeff and threw out her right hand. “Say cheese!” And she snapped a picture with her phone. “So going on my instawhatevertosharewiththewholeworldgram.”
Squirrel Girl sat Indian-style on
the ground. Two squirrels plopped right in her lap from somewhere. She petted
them. Her nose scrunched. “You two need bathes.” Her tail whipped to one side,
twisting her around to face Jeff. “So what do you have to say that’ll make me
the best hostess ever?”
Jeff leaned on his knees inches
from her face. “Be fair.”
One snap of the fingers and the
squirrels bounced away. “That’s it?”
He leaned back in his chair and
nodded. “Send me back.”
She stood. “If this doesn’t work—”
“It’s not just being fair. It’s
being fun and fair. You’re everyone’s friend, but you’re not there to tell them
how awesome they are.”
Squirrel Girl lifted her remote
and pressed a few buttons. “I fear I might not be liked.”
Jeff laughed. “You don’t seem like
the kind of person that cares what others think.” He nodded toward her tail and
pointed back toward the brown stockings.
She flipped the remote in the air
and caught it. “I’ll have you know those are sexy.”
He swallowed a laugh. “See?”
“If this advice is found to be sucky, you’ll be right back in this tent and I won’t be returning you. CBS will have to find another host.”
Jeff shrugged. “Okay, Squirrel Girl.
You see me in my dreams tomorrow.”
Squirrel Girl snickered. “You’ll
realize this isn’t a dream.”
“How—”
She punched him in the eye.
His hands went up. “Why’d you do
that?”
“Something to remember me by. Bye-bye Jeffrey.” She hit a button, and he disappeared. “Let’s watch some Survivor YouTube videos.” Her nails clicked on her laptop’s keys.
to be continued...
to be continued...
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