The First Course: Testicle Terror
After the boys had enjoyed their surprisingly soft beds in the Screaming Gophers' cabin—thanks to the secret handiwork of Ezekiel and Cody long ago—the final ten campers were summoned to the mess hall.
"Congratulations on making the Merge!" Chris shouted. "To celebrate, we're starting with a lovely little dish. Chef, bring out the appetizers!"
Chef Hatchet slammed a large platter in the middle of the table. "Course one: Beef Testicle Meatballs!"
The reaction from the boys' side was immediate and visceral. Duncan, the resident tough guy, turned a pasty shade of white and leaned back in horror. DJ looked like he wanted to bolt for the exit, and even Owen, the human garbage disposal, gagged and covered his mouth. The mere thought of what those meatballs were made of made every male at the table pale with sympathy pains.
However, on the girls' side, things were different. Driven by a fierce competitive spirit, Leshawna, Gwen, Heather, and Lindsay all reached for the meatballs. They grimaced and choked them down, determined not to lose the first point.
Bridgette, however, sat still. "I can't do it, Chris," she said firmly. "I'm a vegan. I don't eat meat, and I'm definitely not starting with that."
DJ gave her a small, understanding nod; as someone who rarely ate meat himself (unless it was his mom's legendary chicken), he respected her stance.
Because Bridgette refused, the girls didn't get the point yet—but then, something happened that stunned everyone.
While the other boys were still trembling and staring at the plate in disgust, Ezekiel reached out. Without a word of complaint, he popped a whole meatball into his mouth. He chewed slowly and methodically, his face showing absolutely no emotion.
"What? eh," Zeke said after swallowing. "On the farm, we use every part of the animal. It's just meat. A bit rubbery, but it's fine."
Duncan and Owen stared at Ezekiel in absolute awe. Their jaws literally dropped. In that single moment, Ezekiel earned the total and undying respect of every guy at the table. Duncan gave him a slow, silent nod of approval, realizing the "homeschooler" was way tougher than he looked.
Despite Zeke's effort, most of the boys still couldn't bring themselves to touch the platter.
Chris checked his clipboard. "Since the majority of the girls ate, and only Zeke stepped up for the guys... The first point goes to the GIRLS!"
Course Two: The Crawling Pizza
Chef Hatchet marched out with the next round of boxes, and the smell of melted cheese briefly gave the campers hope. But as the lids flipped open, that hope vanished for the girls.
"Course two!" Chris announced with a smirk. "The Jellyfish and Grasshopper Pizza! Topped with live, jumping grasshoppers, a thick layer of spicy jellyfish mucus sauce, and wriggling live anchovies!"
The girls immediately recoiled in horror. Lindsay shrieked as a grasshopper leaped toward her face, and Heather looked like she was about to pass out from the sight of the twitching fish. Even with their competitive drive, the "moving" toppings were making them hesitate.
But for the boys, the momentum had shifted. After seeing Ezekiel dominate the meatballs.
Ezekiel grabbed a slice, pinned down a struggling grasshopper with his thumb, and took a massive, crunching bite. "The jellyfish sauce has a nice kick to it, eh! And the bugs are basically just crunchy croutons!"
Following Zeke's lead, the boys went into a feeding frenzy. Duncan folded a slice in half, anchovies and all, and wolfed it down. Owen was practically inhaling the pizza, his eyes bulging with joy. Even DJ and Harold joined in, realizing that compared to the grey sludge they usually ate, this was a gourmet feast.
The boys finished their platters in record time, but they didn't stop there.
"Hey, Chef! Is that all you got?" Duncan shouted, slamming his hand on the table. "We're still hungry over here!"
"Yeah! More! Want more!" Owen roared, his face covered in jellyfish sauce.
Chef Hatchet froze. He was used to campers crying or vomiting at his food, not demanding seconds. He scrambled back to the kitchen, frantically trying to catch more live grasshoppers and slather them in sauce. He was sweating profusely, his hands shaking as he tried to keep up with the boys' relentless appetites. He looked completely stressed out—for the first time, the campers were breaking him.
Chris watched in disbelief. "I've never seen Chef this flustered. The boys are actually eating faster than he can cook!"
The point for the second course goes to the BOYS! The score is tied: 1 to 1.
Course Three: The Hairball Soup
The boys were still laughing and high-fiving after their pizza victory, but the mood soured when Chef Hatchet brought out a steaming, blackened cauldron. The smell was like a wet dog that had been left in a dumpster for a week.
"Course three!" Chris announced, holding a handkerchief over his nose. "Hairball Soup! A thick broth made from Chef's private collection of shower drain clogs and floor sweepings!"
He lifted a ladle, revealing a grey, matted ball of hair dripping with slimy liquid. The girls looked like they were ready to forfeit. Heather was gagging, and Lindsay was on the verge of tears.
But Bridgette stood up, her eyes narrowing with a sharp, tactical focus. "Girls, listen up!" she whispered urgently. "The only reason the boys are winning is because they're not thinking. We need to shut our brains off. If we can't see it and we can't smell it, it's just liquid!"
Bridgette quickly distributed clean towels and nose clips from her gear. "Blindfolds on, noses plugged! On my signal, don't chew—just tilt your heads back and swallow it like a shot of wheatgrass!"
The boys—Ezekiel, Duncan, and Owen—watched with smug expressions.
"What's the matter, ladies? Need to hide from your dinner?" Duncan teased, leaning back.
But the smirks vanished seconds later. When Chris yelled "GO!", the girls acted as one. With their eyes covered and noses blocked, they couldn't see the disgusting texture or smell the stench. They lifted their bowls and drained them in seconds. Gwen, Leshawna, and Bridgette slammed their empty bowls down simultaneously.
The boys were stunned. Unlike the girls, they were looking at their soup.
Harold picked up a spoonful, saw a long, curly black hair sticking out of it, and his face turned a translucent shade of green. He started to retch immediately. DJ, being an animal lover, was so disturbed by the thought of where the "fur" came from that he couldn't even bring the spoon to his lips.
"No way!" Owen cried, staring at the girls. "They're machines! They're like blind, hungry machines!"
Chris blew the whistle. "Incredible! Thanks to Bridgette's brilliant 'Out of sight, out of mind' strategy, the girls have completely outplayed the guys on this one!"
The point goes to the GIRLS! The score is now 2 to 1 for the Girls.
Course Four: The Worm War
The momentum was swinging back and forth, and the girls were leading 2 to 1. Chef Hatchet, still looking frazzled from the pizza round, brought out the next "delicacy."
"Course four!" Chris announced. "Earthworm Spaghetti! Thick, juicy nightcrawlers served in a sauce of fermented swamp mud. And yes, they are still very much alive and wiggling!"
The girls immediately prepared their blindfolds and nose clips again, but the boys were starting to waver. DJ looked at the twisting, pink worms and felt his stomach do a somersault. Even Duncan hesitated, watching a worm try to crawl off the edge of his plate.
Harold pushed his glasses up his nose, his eyes narrowing. "Wait. My ninjutsu training taught me that sensory overload is just a mental barrier. But Zeke is right about the physical part."
Ezekiel leaned in close to the other boys, his voice low and confident. "Listen, eh. On the farm, we treat worms like fertilizer—they're just earth and water. Don't try to chew 'em like a steak. Just treat 'em like raw oysters. Use that 'ninja focus' Harold is talking about. Tilt your head back, let 'em slide, and don't think about the wiggling."
"It's about the Flow of the Internal Spirit," Harold added, striking a dramatic pose with his fork. "If you believe it is spaghetti, your stomach will accept it as spaghetti!"
Owen didn't need any techniques. "It's organic!" he shouted, and proceeded to vacuum up an entire bowl of worms in seconds, letting out a massive, buggy burp.
Inspired by Zeke and Harold, Duncan and DJ closed their eyes and channeled their inner "ninjas." Using Zeke's "oyster-slide" method, they began to swallow the worms at an incredible speed. The teamwork was perfect—Zeke provided the logic, Harold provided the mental discipline, and Owen provided the raw power.
The girls were doing well, but the sheer speed of the boys was overwhelming. Lindsay started to struggle when a worm tickled her nose, breaking her concentration. She shrieked and pushed her bowl away.
"I can't! It's too ticklish!" Lindsay cried.
Chris blew the whistle. "And that's a point for the Boys! We are all tied up again! 2 to 2!"
Course Five: The Eye of the Storm
The score was tied 2 to 2, but the atmosphere in the room changed as the next dish approached. This wasn't just food; it was a biohazard. Chef Hatchet emerged from the kitchen wearing a full gas mask, his hands trembling as he carried a single, heavy silver platter.
"Course five," Chris announced, pulling his shirt over his nose to muffle the stench. "Chef's most dreaded creation. The Kreaton. A quivering, purple mass of mystery jelly, centered around one massive, giant eyeball."
As Chef lifted the lid, a sound of collective gagging filled the room. The "jelly" was pulsating slightly, and the giant, clouded eye sat in the middle, staring vacantly at the ceiling. The smell was a horrific mix of rotten eggs and old gym lockers.
The girls didn't even reach for their blindfolds. Heather scrambled back, nearly knocking over her chair. "Absolutely not! I have a reputation to uphold, and I am not putting that in my body!"
Gwen and Bridgette just shook their heads in silent horror.
Everyone turned to the boys. Owen leaned in, his fork shaking. He opened his mouth, but the smell hit the back of his throat like a physical punch. His face turned a shade of grey-blue.
"I... I can't," he whimpered, dropping his fork. "My stomach just sent me a legal notice. It's a no-go, guys."
Ezekiel, the boy with the iron stomach from the farm, leaned over the plate. He looked at the giant eyeball. He took a small breath, but his survival instincts—honed by years of identifying spoiled crops and sick livestock—screamed at him to stay away.
"Eh... no," Zeke said, pushing the plate toward the center of the table. "There's a limit to what 'protein' means. If it's looking back at me with that much judgment, it shouldn't be eaten."
Duncan sighed with relief. "If the homeschooler and the human vacuum are out, then I'm definitely out."
Chris blew the whistle. "A total forfeit! For the first time in Total Drama history, a dish has defeated everyone. No points awarded!"
The score remains tied: 2 to 2.
Course Six: The Stink of Death
The mess hall was still recovering from the sight of the Kreaton when the next "delicacy" arrived. This time, Chris and Chef didn't even try to be brave. Both were wearing industrial-strength nose clips, and Chris stood as far back as the door would allow.
"Course six!" Chris shouted, his voice muffled by the clip. "The Durian Fruit! Known as the 'King of Fruits' in Asia, and the 'King of Stink' everywhere else! It's been described as smelling like rotten onions, raw sewage, and unwashed gym socks combined!"
The moment Chef sliced the spiked fruit open, a wave of invisible, foul gas hit the room. It was like a physical wall of rot.
Heather, Lindsay, Leshawna, and Gwen didn't even hesitate. They scrambled over each other, clutching their stomachs, and bolted toward the communal bathrooms. The sound of their collective retching echoed across the camp. Bridgette followed close behind, her face a pale shade of grey. Harold and DJ weren't far behind them, leaving only three boys at the table.
Duncan was struggling. His eyes were watering, and he was gagging into his hand. "Ugh... it's like a dumpster fire in my nose!"
He managed to choke down half of a segment, but then his face turned green. He stood up and stumbled toward the exit. "That's... that's all I got, man!"
Now, only Owen and Ezekiel remained.
The two looked at each other. The smell was horrific, but their competitive spirits were stronger.
Owen took a deep breath through his mouth and shoved a huge chunk of the creamy, stinky custard into his mouth.
"It... actually tastes like... sweet... garbage?"
Owen choked out, tears streaming down his face as he swallowed.
Ezekiel didn't even flinch. He picked up a large piece, sniffed it, and shrugged. "On the farm, we have a compost pile that smells way worse than this in July, eh. It's basically just pudding with a bad attitude."
Zeke ate his portion with calm, methodical bites, even licking his fingers afterward.
Chef Hatchet, watching through his gas mask, looked like he wanted to give them a medal—or a bar of soap.
Chris blew the whistle. "Unbelievable! With Duncan's half-effort and the 'Dynamic Duo' of Zeke and Owen cleaning their plates, the Boys take the lead!"
The score is now 3 to 2 for the Boys!
Course Seven: The Dark Side of the Deep
After the stench of the Durian, the mess hall was suddenly filled with a surprisingly delicious aroma. Chef Hatchet brought out a platter of steaming, perfectly grilled hot dogs.
"Course seven!" Chris announced, finally taking off his nose clip. "These are premium Dolphin Hot Dogs! Probably the best-tasting thing on the menu today. Dig in!"
The group froze. Bridgette and DJ looked like they had been hit by a truck.
"No way!" Bridgette cried, her eyes filling with tears. "Dolphins are the angels of the sea! They're kind, smart, and they're my favorite animals! I won't eat them!"
DJ pushed his plate away, his lip trembling. "They're like the puppies of the ocean, man. I can't do it."
"Actually," Harold began, "infanticidal behavior—that is, the intentional killing of young—is relatively common in the animal kingdom. Bottlenose dolphins (Tursiops truncatus) exhibit extensive intra-specific agonistic behavior, and infanticide has been documented in numerous dolphin populations worldwide."
The table went silent. Everyone stared at Harold as if he were speaking a foreign language. Lindsay looked completely lost.
Duncan rolled his eyes so hard it looked painful.
"Okay, let me translate 'Nerd' for you guys," he snapped, leaning forward. "He's saying that dolphins are jerks. They go around intentionally killing their own babies. Even sharks have more class than that."
The shock on Bridgette's and DJ's faces was priceless. The image of the "kind, smiling dolphin" shattered instantly.
"They... they murder their own infants?" Bridgette whispered, her voice trembling with a mix of horror and sudden rage.
"According to the data, they're the bullies of the ocean," Harold added, taking a calm bite.
Bridgette's sadness vanished, replaced by a fierce, vengeful resolve. "Fine! If they're going to be monsters to their own kind, then they're just... lunch! Pass the mustard!"
Bridgette started eating with a ferocity that made even the guys back away. She finished her hot dog in record time, followed closely by a deeply conflicted DJ.
Chris blew the whistle. "Whoa! Thanks to Harold's 'Science Hour' and Duncan's 'Street Translation,' the Girls take the point!"
The score is now tied: 3 to 3!
The Cockroach Catastrophe
The score was a dead heat: 3 to 3. The air in the mess hall was thick with the smell of Durian and Dolphin, but the final challenge was about to turn the room into a literal disaster zone. Chef Hatchet brought out a massive industrial blender, filled it with live, crunchy Madagascar Hissing Cockroaches, and hit the "liquefy" button.
Whirrrrrr-crunch-crunch-crunch!
"The final round!" Chris shouted, holding his nose. "The Cockroach Smoothie. Last ones drinking win the game for their side!"
The field narrowed down to the strongest stomachs. For the girls, it was Gwen and Leshawna. For the boys, it was Ezekiel and Owen.
The glasses were poured—a thick, brown, pulsing liquid with bits of leg and wing floating on top. Ezekiel and Leshawna went head-to-head first. Zeke drank with a grim, farm-hardened determination, while Leshawna focused her inner strength. But after ten glasses, Zeke finally hit his limit, and Leshawna turned a shade of purple before collapsing.
Then, it was down to Gwen and Owen. Gwen was drinking like a soldier, her eyes closed, forcing the sludge down. But Owen... Owen was in a different dimension. He wasn't just drinking; he was chugging.
"More! More! More!" Owen roared, slamming glass after glass onto the table.
He drank twenty, fifty, then hundreds of glasses. The sheer volume of cockroach juice inside him defied the laws of physics. The sight—and the sound of Owen's wet, buggy burps—was the final straw for everyone else.
Gwen was the first to break. She let out a muffled sound and bolted for the door. Then, like a domino effect, the rest of the campers followed. Duncan, Leshawna, Bridgette, Heather, Lindsay, DJ, Ezekiel and Harold were all doubled over, losing their lunch simultaneously.
But it didn't stop there. Chef Hatchet took one look at a cockroach leg stuck to Owen's lip and turned green, sprinting behind the counter to retch.
Even Chris McLean, the man with the iron stomach for cruelty, couldn't handle the visual of Owen drinking his 200th smoothie. Chris leaned over the porch railing and joined the chorus of sick campers.
THE ENTIRE CAMP WAS COVERED IN VOMIT.
It was a sea of green and brown sludge. The cameramen dropped their gear to run, and the sound of collective retching echoed across the lake.
In the middle of the carnage, Owen stood alone at the table. He was the only one who hadn't vomited. He looked around at the chaos, at his green-faced friends and the heaving host, and wiped a brown smudge from his chin.
"Hey, Chris?" Owen asked, his voice echoing in the now-silent mess hall. "I'm a little parched after all that protein. You think I could get a soda or something? Maybe a chocolate milk?"
Chris, still clutching the railing, weakly pointed a thumb toward the dock.
"You... urp... you win, Owen. Just... get away from me. The cruise is yours. Please... someone get a hose..."
The Boys win the challenge!
After the "Cockroach Catastrophe," the boys (Ezekiel, Owen, Duncan, Harold, and DJ) spent the rest of the day enjoying their prize: a luxury cruise. They spent hours soaking in hot tubs, wrapping themselves in fluffy towels, and eating food that had absolutely nothing to do with the swamp. But despite the luxury, the guys didn't forget the girls they left behind in the mud.
The next morning, the boys returned to camp.
The girls were sitting on the dock, still looking a bit pale and smelling faintly of "Brunch," but their moods shifted the moment they saw the boys carrying overflowing gift bags.
"Hey, ladies!" Owen shouted, holding a massive stash of snacks. "We brought back a little 'survival kit' from the ship!"
The boys lined up to hand out their gifts:
* Ezekiel walked straight up to Gwen. "Thought you might want a taste of home, eh," he said, blushing as he handed her a bag of her favorite foods and sweets. But the real treasure was at the bottom: several bars of expensive, fresh-scented soap. Gwen's eyes lit up; after weeks of the filthy communal showers, this was better than gold.
* Harold gave a deep, dramatic bow to Leshawna. "A token of my undying loyalty, my lady!" He presented her with her favorite candy, a bouquet of fresh flowers, and a stack of those same fragrant soaps. Leshawna giggled, clearly touched by the gesture.
* DJ approached Bridgette with a kind smile. He brought her favorite snacks, her favorite flowers, and a pile of soaps. "To help wash away the memory of that dolphin hot dog," he whispered. Bridgette beamed, her heart melting at his thoughtfulness.
* Duncan, with his usual "bad boy" swagger, tossed a bag of sweets and soap to Heather. "Don't tell anyone I was being nice, but I could smell the swamp on you from a mile away," he smirked. Heather rolled her eyes and gave a huff, but she clutched that soap like her life depended on it.
* Owen, despite his own legendary hunger, honorably handed over a mountain of candy and soaps to Lindsay. She squealed with joy, reacting to the soap as if she'd just been given a diamond necklace.
The tension from the disgusting brunch had completely vanished. The teams were gone, but these small gifts proved that in the new world of the Merge, friendships—and the smell of clean jasmine—meant everything.