Week One
Getting Warmed Up


[Camera up on Jeff Probst of Survivor, standing on a large motorboat. Behind him stand a motley crew of eight "Survivors".]
Jeff Probst: Welcome to Survivor! I have here our new group of potential survivors, ready to outwit, outplay, and outlast! Let's have a look! Now, due to recent downsizing, we've only included eight survivors this week, meaning two teams of four will compete and vote off members until there are only two from each team. Then, the tribes will merge and fight for that final million! Now! Our first tribe, Tribe Wagani!
[CO on a slim, athletic, blonde young woman in a bikini top and Hawaiian skirt.]
Jeff Probst: First we have the dashing model Samantha, kick boxing instructor, yoga practitioner, and adamant vegitarian from Los Angeles, California!
[CO on a burly, tanned, very tall man of about 25.]
Jeff Probst: Christian, college footbal quarterback, athletics instructor, and owner of a large chain of Gold's Gyms from New York City!
[CO on a 45 year old woman with short brown hair and a vicious scowl.]
Jeff Probst: Lacy, mother of five...[aside to camera] wow...that's enough to win this...[coughs] Mother of five, firm believer in transcendial meditation, and aerobics instructor from Fairfax, Virginia!
Jeff Probst: Kenny, avid fisherman and kayaker from Hillsborough, North Carolina! [Camera back to Jeff Probst] And that makes up Tribe Wagani! And now, their challengers...Tribe Kamikazi!
[CO on a young man of about 27 with baby blue eyes and a frightened look.]
Ringo: [under his breath] I can't believe you guys talked me into this...
Jeff Probst: Ringo Starr, a.k.a. Richard Starkey, drummer for the Beatles from Liverpool, England!
[CO on a young man of about 25, looking very determined.]
Jeff Probst: George Harrison, lead guitarist and composer for the Beatles, also from Liverpool, England!
[CO on a man of aobut 27 with large sideburns and a smug look.]
Jeff Probst: John Lennon, rhythm guitarist, singer and composer for the Beatles from...Liverpool England!
[CO on a young man of approximately 26 with mussed hair and a confused look.]
Jeff Probst: Paul McCartney, second half of the Lennon/McCartney composition team...
Paul: FIRST half!
Jeff Probst: But...it's Lennon, then McCartney...
Paul: Oh, that's becuse John suckered me into that with all that "it sounds so much better that way" crap! He's just jealous! [shoots an oblivious John a withering glare.]
Jeff Probst: Right...well, that's Paul McCartney, bassist and singer for the Beatles from...er...Liverpool? Again? [shrugs]
[Wide shot of both teams, Jeff Probst in the middle.]
Jeff Probst: We're here in the China Sea off the charming island of Tikiwiki where these two tribes of survivors will be competing! To start off this month-long challenge, we're giving both teams two minutes to salvage everything they could use for the stay from the motorboat. At which time, both teams will be asked to leave the motorboat and head for the island! Ready...
John: Two bloody minutes??
Jeff Probst: Set...
John: That's not much time!
Jeff Probst: GO!
[All the survivors rush to grab every wooden crate in sight...except John...]
John: I mean, good Lord, that's not nearly enough time!
[Tribe Wagani cuts off their raft from the side of the motorboat and pile it high with crates. Ringo grabs an axe and tries to cut off their raft, but drops the axe in the water. Paul approaches with an armload of bath products and shampoos.]
Paul: Oh, smooth.
Ringo: [pointing to the cosmetics] What the hell is all that?
Paul: [blushing madly] Er...it's just...uh...
John: Two minutes to grab everything? I think five might be just a bit more reasonable...
[Christian and George both grab the same crate. Christian is clearly a foot taller than George and much more muscular. Regardless, George glares at the burly Wagani.]
George: I may be small, but...
Christian: What, small fry? [snarls] I've got at least a hundred pounds of muscle on you, weakling!
George: Uh...as I was saying...I may be small, but I can...run fast!
[George releases the trunk and sprints the other way, running smack into John.]
John: Seriously now! Can't we be a bit more diplomatic?? For Chrissakes, two minutes??
George: ONE!!
John: One?? That's even worse! Good God! What are you waiting for, we've only got one minute!!
[At this point Wagani has already pushed off for the island, having claimed every crate but the four crates claimed by Kamikazi.]
Ringo: Gad...four crates...I hope it's good stuff...
Jeff Probst: Time's up!
[With a solid push, Jeff Probst shoves the four off the side of the boat and into the water. They climb onto the raft, cursing and sputtering.]
Paul: Hey! We were going! Jeez...
[Jeff Probst tosses four oars over the side of the boat, managing to hit George.]
George: OW!! Watch it, will ya?? I'd like to survive the first day, thanks!!
John: [rolls eyes] Well, let's row, lads...we're all in this together...
[Wagani has already reached the island, so the Beatles steer a few miles up the beach to distance themselves. On the way there, however, Ringo gets a sick look on his face.]
Ringo: Er...I think...I'm gonna...
John: CLEAR OUT! He's gonna BLOW!!!
[The other three Beatles throw up their hands to protect themselves as Ringo takes a deep breath...and sneezes. He smiles and shrugs sheepishly.]
Paul: [sighs deeply] Bless you.
Ringo: Thank you.
[The four land on the beach, and George kisses the sand as the others pull the raft ashore to the edge of the dense jungle.]
George: Aah, land...lovely land...
[The other three prop the raft up against the tree as a temporary shelter. George pulls out a crowbar and starts work on opening the first crate. The other three stare at the crowbar.]
John: Where did you get that??
George: Ringo's suitcase.
[All eyes on Ringo, who just shrugs. George finishes opening the crate and gasps.]
Paul: What? What is it??
George: It's...it's...baked beans...?
John: Eeeew...
Paul: Well, at least it's something to eat...not much, but...[pauses] No ketchup?
Ringo: Don't we need a can opener?
George: Well, yes...
Ringo: We don't have one, do we?
George: [nervously] There are still more crates!
[George jumps to the next crate and starts prying it open.]
Paul: Well, it can't be much worse than baked beans, can it?
George: [peering in] Weeell...
John: What is it?
George: [pulls out a huge ball of bright orange yarn] It's...yarn.
John: Oh, great. Yarn. No knives? Axes? Guns? Nothing fun like that? [the other three give him frightened looks] I mean...nothing useful like that...?
George: Er...no...but there're still two more...
[George pries open the third crate.]
George: Uh...heh heh...
Ringo: What? More baked beans?
Paul: More yarn?
John: Guns? Knives? [rubs his hands together]
George: It's...empty.
Ringo: I thought that one felt a little light...
John: You brought that one?
Ringo: Well...er...
George: We can use it for wood.
John: [menacingly] We can ALSO use it to...
Paul: Relax, John.
[George opens the last crate.]
George: Hey! All right! An axe, a fishing pole, a machete, and a bow with some arrows...
John: Yes!
George: You get the fishing pole.
John: What?? Heeey!
[George hands a dejected John the fishing rod. Ringo reaches for the axe, but Paul grabs it instead.]
Paul: Remember what you did with that last one?
Ringo: Aww, c'mon...
[Ringo claims the machete while George grabs the bow and quiver of arrows.]
John: Great. Just...great. I hate fishing...well, let's see...Paul, you've got the axe, you can chop some wood for firewood, some to build a shelter...and some to...
Paul: Chopping wood?? [tosses Ringo the axe] I forgive you! You can have the axe!
Ringo: [tosses it back] Ohh, no, remember what happened last time?
[Paul dejectedly head off into the jungle, axe over his shoulder, to look for wood.]
John: Ok, Ringo, you've got the machete, there's a bunch of coconut trees over there...you can climb up and see if you can cut some down to eat later.
Ringo: But...I'm allergic to coconuts!
[John isn't paying attention, so after trying in vain to catch his eyes, Ringo sighs and heads for the palm trees.]
John: George, you can use the bow and arrows to find something for dinner.
George: I've never used one of these before!
John: You're a quick learner. Go to it. I'll see if I can catch some fish...
[John heads down the beach to fish, leaving George standing confusedly on his own. He slings the quiver over his back, draws an arrow, and puts it on backwards, heading for the jungle after Paul.]
[Cut to Paul, who's chopping through the thick jungle.]
Paul: Bloody jungle...I hate this show...
[He comes upon a large growth of bamboo.]
Paul: Ah! What luck! This stuff'll be great for building material...
[Paul brandishes his axe and starts chopping.]
[Cut to Ringo, who's shinnying his way up a tall palm tree, machete in his teeth.]
Ringo: [thinking to himself] If this is what it takes...that million is mine...I can beat the whole bloody lot of 'em...Beatles or no Beatles...
[He reaches the top, planting his bare feet firmly on the trunk and swinging the machete madly until he chops a few down. He throws a bad swing and chops one in half.]
Ringo: Oh, dear...
[He starts sneezing terribly, dropping the machete to the beach below and clinging helplessly to the tree to keep himself up. Eventually, he loses his grip and falls off the tree onto the sand.]
Ringo: OOW! Ah CHOO!
[He finally stops sneezing and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gathering up the fallen coconuts, holding the half shell and arm's length and trying not to inhale, he bites down on the machete and heads back towards the camp.]
[Cut to George, tiptoeing through the jungle. He's replaced the arrow on the bow properly and is currently on the trail...]
George: [stops to sniff the air] Whew...something smells...I'm close...
[He hears a chopping sound and his ears perk up.]
George: Ah HA! Sounds like the rare...er...rare something...I saw it on National Geographics once, honest...
[He creeps through the bushes, the noise growing louder as he stalks thought the underbrush. He notches his arrow and with careful aim, lets it fly at the source of the sound.]
Paul: HOLY MOTHER OF GOD!!!
George: Ooh...that sounded a lot like Paul...you never see this on National Geographic...
Paul: GEORGE!! GET YOUR SORRY ARROW SLINGING ASS OVER HERE!!!
George: That's my cue...
[George quickly sprints the other way, bow in hand, quiver bouncing on his back. He flies out of the jungle and collides with Ringo, knocking the both of them to the ground. Ringo drops all the coconuts but manages to keep ahold of his machete. He sighs in relief, then lets loose one violent sneeze. The machete flies from his mouth straight at George, who quickly ducks. The sharp projectile ricochets off a few trees, a pile of rocks, and the sand before imbedding itself deeply in a nearby tree with a resounding THUD..]
Ringo: Nothin' but net.
Paul: GEORGE!!!
George: Uh oh...
Ringo: What did you do now?
[Paul comes stumbling from the jungle, axe in hand...and an arrow deep in his foot, poking through his shoe.]
Paul: I'm gonna DIE!! [pauses thoughtfully] No, YOU'RE going to die!!
[Paul limps over to George and with one leap tackles him to the sand.]
George: Ringo!! HELP!!
[Ringo opens his mouth to speak but quickly shuts it.]
Ringo: I...uh...need to go get my machete...[to himself] If they pick each other off, I'm that much closer...
[Ringo nonchalantly heads off towards the tree where his machete is imbedded, turning his back on the commotion that has finally caught John's attention. He begins to wade ashore.]
John: Hey! What's going on?
[He wades up onto the beach head, fishing pole in hand. John's pants are rolled five times, gathered in massive rolls at his thighs. As he walks, he...waddles. Paul and George stop fighting to watch, snickering madly.]
John: What...? What??
[Ringo whips out his machete and turns around triumphantly. He takes one look at John and is rolling in the sand laughing.]

Later that night...

[The four are gathered around inside a pitiful make-shift hut of bamboo. Paul sits with his foot on John's (now covered) knee, the arrow protruding at a crazy angle.]
John: I still wish you would've let us get it out earlier...
Paul: [wincing] I'm ok...
[WIth one swift pull from John and a loud cry from Paul, the arrow comes out. John gently unties Paul's shoelaces and carefully eases it off his foot.]
John: Paul...it...didn't hit your foot...
Paul: What...?
John: [tossing the shoe aside] It was stuck in your shoe. It didn't touch your foot.
Paul: [wiggling his toes] Are...are you sure?
John: Positive.
George: HA!
Paul: Oh...ok then...
[Paul sheepishly removes his foot from John's knee as George rolls his eyes behind him. Ringo sits in the middle, trying in vain to light the tiny stack of matchstick-sized wood.]
Ringo: We need matches, is what we need...
John: Here, let me try...
[John takes over, grabbing two sticks, a slightly dished rock, and a length of yarn. He constructs a simple machine to rub the sticks together and quickly lights a good-sized fire.]
Paul: Nice going John!! Were you a boy scout or something?
John: No, I saw it on Jerry Springer.
Paul: Uh...I'm not even going to ask...
[The four split the fish John caught that afternoon and crack the coconuts Ringo chopped down. Ringo uses a clothespin he found in his pocket to keep his nose shut while eating. With one swift chop, Paul splits the last coconut. As he drains the white milk, a piece of paper falls into his lap.]
Paul: Hello, what's this?
[The other three gather over his shoulders as he unrolls the paper and reads aloud.]
Paul: "This piece of parchment you've no doubt found
To find the council, you'll need to look 'round.
Look fast as you can, and don't be late
Who's gonna get booted? Don't trust your fate..."
[The four look at each other.]
John: The council...we need to get there to vote who's going to leave...but after only one day? I thought we had a whole week...?
Paul: Well, let's find out...


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This is quite obviously fiction. The Beatles weren't that young when Survivor showed up, so it's really obvious in that respect. I don't work for Survivor, either (or the Beatles, for that matter).