[Tree Mail:]
The nights are long, get on the ball,
Come all Survivors, short and tall.
If arms are strong, and aim is true,
Immunity will come to you.
[Immunity Challenge. The eleven remaining Survivors have gathered in neutral territory, a pristine clearing covered with a fresh blanket of snow. They stand in their separate groups, and await the instructions of the host.]
JEFF PROBST: Survivors, welcome to another Immunity Challenge. First, I’ll need to take the Immunity Idol back from Sampo. [Once again, Mickey turns it over, grudgingly.]
Now, as you may have guessed from reading the Tree Mail, your Challenge today is a game of skill in which you must hit a target. As you can see, we’ve set up some targets, of varying sizes and distances. Your task will be to hit as many of the targets as you can.
ROGER: Well, what all are we gonna shoot with?
EULABELLE: Flaming arrows?
MICKEY: Clay pots?
MELISSA: … Walnuts?
JEFF PROBST: No, as much fun as that sounds, for reasons having to do with corporate liability, we have decided that it would be unwise to give you people potentially lethal weapons. At least not in the sense that you’re used to.
Now, as I’ve said on several previous occasions, the Inuit people indigenous to this region have survived for thousands of years using very simple technology. They have developed a missile, which they call the kaliiak, actually made of a sphere of compressed snow.
NEIL: Snowballs? You expect us to believe that they can bring down a charging polar bear with snowballs?
EULABELLE: I don’t see no targets, Jeff.
JEFF PROBST: The players on the opposing Tribe are your targets. Once you’re hit, you’re eliminated. Last person remaining wins Immunity for the Tribe. Sampo, since you have an extra person, one will have to sit out.
[The Sampo Tribe huddles briefly to determine who to have sit out.]
ROGER: Well, Ah never seen snow before, so Ah don’t know if Ah’d be any good at this.
MELISSA: … Please, not me. I just know that Jeff is going to try to tell me the rest of his life story.
RUBY: Well, how about B? Look at his spindly limbs; he probably can’t throw worth a crap.
MICKEY: On the other hand, he’s a small target. Whisper-thin. Hard to hit.
KITTEN: I’m pretty slippery, myself!
MR. B NATURAL: So it’s Roger then. See you later, Roger!
[Roger heads for the sidelines.]
JEFF PROBST: Survivors ready? GO!
[The battle ensues. Aside from Georgia and Ruby, the remaining Survivors have come from warm climates, and have little experience with the snow. Melissa forms a snowball, and hesitates, unsure what to do with it. She’s the first one hit, but is followed rapidly by most of the others, until only Glen and Mr. B Natural remain. Glen has avoided being hit mainly by taking a position several hundred yards away from the rest of the group, while B’s strategy is to prance and mince across the field in an unpredictable fashion.]
MR. B NATURAL: Yoo hoo! Glen! Missed me! Missed me! Now you gotta kiss me!
GLEN: Dammit, it’s like trying to hit a flea with a sledgehammer. Hey, that gives me an idea.
[Glen picks up a pile of snow and forms it into a ball roughly the size of the Epcot Center. He takes aim, and…]
NEIL: Whoa! Incoming!
[The giant snowball comes hurtling down from the sky, and buries B, along with Jeff Probst and most of the crew. After a few minutes, they dig their way out.]
JEFF PROBST: Nice shot, man. Konga, Immunity is yours. Sampo, I’ll see you tonight at Tribal Council.
[Sampo Campsite; Ruby, Kitten, and B are planning how to vote.]
MR. B NATURAL: Well, I think that if there’s one of us they’d vote for, it would be me. I’m an outcast!
KITTEN: Or me. Somehow, they found out I have votes. I wonder how that happened?
RUBY: Ummm… maybe Lobo told them. Listen, I think we should all vote for Roger.
KITTEN: If we go into a tie-breaker, they’ll probably ask some plastic mental-type questions.
MR. B NATURAL: Well, I can’t imagine Roger knowing anything that I don’t know, because he’s a hillbilly cracker redneck, and I’m a fey music sprite!
RUBY: Well, Roger’s dumb as a brick all right, but there’s probably things he knows that you don’t.
MR. B NATURAL: Such as?
KITTEN: Stuff about cars, sports, the difference between a monkey wrench and a Stilson wrench…
RUBY: Military history, what to do with a woman, the Three Stooges…
MR. B NATURAL: OK, you’ve made your point.
KITTEN: Still, I think B’s our shiniest chance if it goes to a tie-breaker. I think it’s really important that B go up against Roger in the tie-breaker.
MR. B NATURAL: Girlfriend, now you’re scaring me.
[Tribal Council]
JEFF PROBST: Welcome once again to Tribal Council. Before we get started, anyone have any thoughts they’d like to share?
MELISSA: … Ummm…
JEFF PROBST: Yes?
MELISSA: … Nothing.
JEFF PROBST: OK, let’s vote.
[The six members of Sampo cast their votes, and the last to vote returns the bowl to Jeff.]
JEFF PROBST: You’re all familiar with the procedure, so I’ll tally the votes.
First vote: Roger.
Second vote: Roger.
Third vote: Kitten.
Fourth vote: Kitten. Two for Roger, two for Kitten.
Fifth vote: Roger.
The final vote: Kitten. [Kitten jumps up, ready to leave.]
KITTEN: Well, goodbye, everyone! It’s been creamy!
JEFF PROBST: Ummm… not so fast, Kitten. Sit it back down. We have a tie. Roger and Kitten each have three votes. Is everyone clear on that?
ROGER: So we both gotta leave? Shoot! Ah didn’t see that coming!
JEFF PROBST: No. This is what, the third Tribal Council for all of you? See, I thought I wouldn’t have to explain the procedure EVERY TIME!
MELISSA: … Well, you keep changing the game in the middle, so we didn’t know.
JEFF PROBST: OK, point taken. Here’s how this works: Roger and Kitten will not vote again; the rest of you will. But first, Roger and Kitten will have the opportunity to present their case as to why they should not be voted out. Roger?
ROGER: Well, Ah really got nuthin’ to say. Here Ah am. Ah guess that’s it.
KITTEN: Yeah. Roger the square! He thinks he’s the whole bottle and then a drop! Bookies and pushers make more than preachers! They could drop the bomb tomorrow, poof! So why worry? [At this point, Kitten breaks down and starts sobbing.] How I got this far, I’ll NEVER know! But at least I have my dignity! I was tempted to betray someone, but I didn’t! I’ve upheld my ethics and I feel creamy, all shiny bright with a big white hat!
JEFF PROBST: Wow. Compelling. All right, it’s time for the re-vote.
[The remaining four Survivors cast their votes.]
JEFF PROBST: Before I read the vote, I need to mention one thing. B, I know that Tribal Council is nerve-wracking and tense, but you’re going to have to stop putting your head between your knees like that.
MICKEY: Yeah, you’re creeping all of us out. Everyone.
JEFF PROBST: All right, the votes: Kitten, Kitten, Roger, Roger. Deadlock. Big surprise. OK, the next tie-breaker is how many votes you’ve received in previous Tribal Councils. Roger?
ROGER: None that Ah knows of, but then again, Ah am intensely stupid.
JEFF PROBST: Correct on both counts. Kitten?
KITTEN: Uhh… a couple?
JEFF PROBST: Yes. A couple. Four, to be exact. Kitten, come up here… [Kitten is already in front of the council]. OK, now go back and get your torch. Hold it steady. That’s it. [Hurriedly:] The Tribe has spoken. [Extinguishes torch; Kitten, Ruby, and B exchange a tearful farewell.]
[Confessional]
KITTEN: Well, it’s over. That’s the Kitten doll for ya: Just wind her up, and whichever way you point her, she turns up lousy. [Sobbing] Every time I see something all bright and shiny, I have to pull it apart to see what makes it run. Then it never runs any more. Go on, rise above it! [Composes herself somewhat:] I had a creamy white time in the Yukon, and I still have my dignity! I’ll be a CELEBRITY!
Day 19-20
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