The ever-shrinking population of tribe Gallifreya gathers around the campfire on a cold, grey morning as Bernice desperately tries to cook something faintly edible. "Why," she mutters under her breath, "do we keep voting out our ruddy cooks?"
To make matters worse, the Monk has not brought back any sloths for two days now. "The truth is," he admits, "I'm doing it because I don't think they really appreciate me. I mean, it's my birthday in two days, and do you think any of them got me a present?"
Peri, meanwhile, has an argument with Ben. "I'm next in your silly reverse-alphabet voting strategy, aren't I?"
"Umm, er, I don't know what you're talking about!"
"Oh, come on, Ben, we all know that one vote for the Rani last night was yours. You're too chicken to vote for real!"
"Oh, come on, that's not fair, Polly. I mean, Peri! Peri! Your name is Peri!"
Peri leans off and slaps him. "Kitten. Neck. Snapped." She stalks away.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
Ben is lying on a makeshift cot on the side of the hill where the Gallifreya tribe lives -- watching everyone else do work, as per usual. "Man," he says to Bernice as she traipses by, having just returned from an uneventful hunting excursion, "I'd sure love some fish and chips right about now."
Suddenly, a large crate full of fish carcasses falls from the sky and beans him right in the head. Bernice fishes out the newspaper, and realises that it contains a hint about the next Reward Challenge. "Oh boy," she mutters. "This one is going to be fun."
"Does it involve nipple clamps?" asks the Monk.
"Um, no. Balancing on bamboo or something, I think."
"Oh, shame."
"Maybe afterward we'll get to shove the bamboo right up y--"
Some time later, the WHOvivors all stand before a large bamboo construction, made of ramps which climb higher and higher. At the very top is a large plate of fish and chips with a very prominent "Flavia's Fish & Chips" logo branded on the side.
"Well," says our host, the insurmountable Jeff Probst, "all you have to do is balance on the ramps and platforms -- made by the good folks at Rutan Construction Inc. -- all the way to the top. There first one there wins -- get this -- not just a heaping meal of Flavia's Fish & Chips (the Gallifreyan treat!) but also a phone call to anyone, anywhere in time and space, courtesy the Capitol's own Matrix Communications."
"Product placements deals finally come through, eh, Jeff?" pipes up the Rani.
"Oh yeah. WHOvivors ready? Go!"
All of them take off except Leela. She lags behind and starts pushing people off the bamboo platforms from behind as they balance precariously. Finally, she is the only one left and saunters up to the top, where she devours the fish and chips voraciously.
Jeff sighs as the other castaways pick themselves up off the ground, battered and bruised. "Somebody get that woman a napkin, will you?"
Later, Leela prepares to make her call. "And who are you contacting?" asks Jeff. "Andred and the new baby, right"
Leela ignores him and places her call. "Hello, Flavia's Fish & Chips? I wish to make an order. Delivery. The Death Zone. Hello? Hello?"
It is the Monk's birthday; as predicted, nobody's bought him any presents. "Davros would have had something for me," he sniffs.
In fact, things go worse than he would have thought. "I'd planned to spend all day in my Saturday Night Fever outfit," he reveals. "But all of the rest of them jumped me, tore it off me and burned it. Bernice said something about needing it for fuel, but I know the truth.
"So then I was thinking about maybe just running around naked all day. But, you know, even I've got some sense of decorum."
Later, Jeff appears (and seems to be quite relieved that he missed seeing the Monk during his Travolta or nude phases) to announce the latest Immunity Challenge.
At the base of the Gallifreya hill, a huge pile of old books has materialised. "Hey," remarks Susan, "why are most of these written by somebody named 'Peter Haining'?"
"No reason," says Jeff, coughing furiously. "Anyhow, the whole idea is to pile as many books as you can over in the fire pits we've got set up yonder. There's a little string over each of the pits. The first person to burn through their string, or the first person to completely obliterate twenty-five copies of 25 Glorious Years, wins Immunity at tonight's Tribal Council.
"Oh, and by the way, the Braxiatel Collection reminds everyone that book burning is a crime. Unless they're really crappy books like these. Visit the Braxiatel Collection on the Hyperglobalmeganet!"
"More tedious product placement?" asks the Rani.
"You betcha."
Then, at a signal from Jeff, the castaways begin. he race is tight, but it is the Rani who pulls away in the end. As her string snaps, she hops up and does an incredibly embarrassing little dance. "Sorry," she mutters. "I don't know what came over me."
That night, the seven remaining WHOvivors make the long trek from the Gallifreya campsite to the Dark Tower for Tribal Council...
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