Welcome to the seventh edition of “Standing in the Shadows” for Panama: Exile Island! For those readers unfamiliar with it, each season our writers and mods “stand in the shadow” of a Survivor until their torch is snuffed. You get to read what we believe is really going on in the mind of each player. Without further ado. . . .
Ha! My family told me I'd be the first one booted off, but I proved them wrong! I'm a fire dancer, gosh darn it, and being a fire dancer, I have Pele, the goddess of fire on my side. Only, there was a problem...all the other teams got flint to start a fire, except for us. What good is being a fire dancer without a fire to dance AROUND? That's okay, I have other talents, like snow-making and massage therapy. Also, I'm a joker, a smoker, a midnight toker, and I get my lovin' on the run. OH wait. Where was I? Yes! My talents. Well, I'm part Native American....the tribe that's red-headed, pale and burns easily...so surely I'll be good with all of this "one with nature" stuff. I mean, I can already draw big hearts around dead turtles, so surely the gods will reward me. Hey, don't be telling me you don't believe my Native American heritage! I AM, at least that's what the
cult leaderelder told me. After they let me out of that cellsweat lodge after five days. Oh, the name of my native tribe? The Thetans! They have the coolest rituals, like donning these shiny metallic green suits, where they look like giant lizards...well, I've never really seen them without those suits. I guess they're suits! I really did hate the whole anal-probe initiation ritual though. OH yeah, so like anyway, I'm really saying too much about that, as we're kinda secret and all. But, between you and me, if I don't win Survivor, I'll drop back down to a level one and never reach "CLEAR" status with my people. I'm gonna kick ass...I have to kick ass....
That’s right…charter member of the young, beefcake boys! I’m gonna rule these young bucks. We’ll play a little island baseball and maybe we’ll even make a fire and build a little shelter. Well, those last two don’t seem to be anyone’s forte. We’re young and in charge, it won’t be a problem. I just need to stay in this until my manipulative lawyer skills can come in handy. Then it should be a cake walk for me. You can’t lie to me, and my cross-examining skills will always get the truth out of you. There we go. I knew we could beat the women. And now I’m going to play my waiting game.
*Nodding head* Yep. *Nodding head* The tribes are divided by gender, and then age. Yep. All I’m going to do is try my best to imitate a bobble head doll. Anything I can do to hide my secret. Shhhh!! Can I trust you? For sure? I won’t lie to you, so you don’t lie to me. Okay…here’s my dish…I’m not just some retired NASA geek who used to work on the space shuttle. I actually flew on the space shuttle. Yeah, that’s a huge advantage out here on an island with no technology whatsoever, so I don’t want anyone else to know. Well, anyone besides Terry. He’s a pilot and a Navy guy…he’ll understand. We just need to keep the teamwork happening and just work work work. Just like on space shuttle…as long as we are always working together and working smart, we’ll have no problems out here.
Okay, let's just get something straight right off the bat: I. Am. NOT. Old. I'm the youngest of the older women; I'm on the cusp of young and old. Also? I really don't like leaves, and YES I realize what show I'm on, but as far as I'm concerned, leaves do not equal survival. Am I right or am I right? You wanna talk about leaves, let's talk about that lumberjack lady. She's leaving, and she's taking her alone-sitting, Kumbaya-singing loud mouth with her. So what if she caught a fish? So what if she could single-handedly carry a tree to our fire pit? What matters is Cirie is still here, and Cirie still has a chance to be the ultimate survivor. And you know what Cirie is gonna do with the prize money? Well, first she's gonna pay the taxes on it... I mean lesson learned Mr. Hatch, lesson learned. And THEN Cirie is gonna get a nice new couch to go in front of the television set. Maybe a couch with a pretty leaf print on it. Yeah... that's the ticket. In the meantime, I gotta figure out how to keep my top on and covering my wobbly bits during the challenges.
Rock, paper, scissors. With the flick of a wrist, Fate decreed me exiled. I should have let the chesty one go ahead and volunteer to be the first exile. Still, I figured that if I had to be the first one banished, it just meant I had the first crack at finding the idol. It should have been simple to find - the island isn’t very big, you know. But that freakin’ clue Jeff left me made no sense. Maybe all that “behind” talk just meant he was checking mine out. I hear he’s got a thing for hottie Survivors...anyway, if I couldn’t put my hands on the idol, I was going to make for damn sure that everyone thought I did. I was pretty crafty. I tried to make it sound like I was trying not to let it slip that I found the idol. I think I pulled it off, too. Not bad for an exile who didn’t get to do any plotting while the rest of the girls had time to forge bonds. All I’ve got to do now is keep this backpack on me night and day, and I can cruise until someone pulls out the idol for real.
Oh for the love of Pete! Lumping me in with those other middle-aged weaklings was a real bummer. If it hadn’t been for me they would’ve stood around on the beach and talked about their men-o-pause problems until they starved to death. Heck fire, I had to sing Kum-ba-yah to get them in touch with their feelings before I could get any work out of them at all. *sob* I came to this island to honor the memory of my son Charlie. This was my chance to howl at the moon, and those vicious bitches voted me out before I was ready to go. That’s okay though, at the tribal council I had a revelation. I didn’t need the rest of them at all. I have everything I need, right here in my own two hands. I’ve already proved I was the strong one, and I said so when Jeff asked me. You city slickers and soft suckers keep on trying to win. I don’t regret a thing at all except not realizing my enemy was Cirie. Ha! I’d like to see her after a week or so, shambling through the sand with her mouth hanging open and her boobs hanging down. She couldn’t find her ass if I chainsawed it off, put it in a hat and handed to her. Scared of leaves, huh? Let me show you what I do for a living, honey. Here’s a hint, it doesn’t involve getting in touch with my softer side.
Yeah, so I'm thinking that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. First, I get stuck on Team Geezer. I mean, come on! I have nothing in common with these Viagra poppers. All these dudes want to do is work, work, work. What's wrong with relaxing for a while, kicking back on the beach? There's plenty of time to do all that boring stuff like building a shelter and making a fire. I bet the young guys are having a blast. It's not fair. Then, as if that weren't bad enough...I haven't had a cigarette in 31 hours. 31 hours! I'm dying here. Anybody have any Nicorette gum? A nicotine patch? Damn. I think I'm going to wander down the beach a bit, maybe one of the camera crew dropped a butt somewhere.
Good Lord! As the social worker, I'm supposed to be the touchy feely one. Courtney, you say pa-turtle, I say pa-deadle. I sure as hell am not going to be drawing hearts in the sand around dead creatures. *rolls eyes* If we got do-overs, I'd volunteer Courtney to stay on Exile Island. Of course, then she might have found the immunity idol. Never mind. The thought of Courtney pulling out that idol to save herself makes me sick. After our dismal performance in the reward challenge, it was awesome to come in first in the immunity challenge. After all, I need to stay on this show long enough that my high dark socks start a new fashion trend so I can quit my job and become a fashion mogul. I'm beginning to think that I really should have tried out for Project Runway.
I can’t believe that I am stuck on a team with all men. I love the ladies and I have to flirt with them. How am I going to get very far in this game if I have no one to flirt with? I wonder if the boys will mind if I flirt with them so I don’t lose my touch? The guys let me compete in the first reward challenge and I brought fire back to the team…I wonder if the ladies think I’m on fire? My tribe is good, we play baseball and don’t really worry about building fires or shelters, someone else will come along and do it for us. I am going to just focus on laying low and hanging out with the guys right now…wait, is that a female seagull over there? I need to flirt with something I guess that will have to do!
I don’t know about this Viveros Tribe, man. It’s a total sausage-fest, and there are no beautiful ladies. It’s just me, the baseball-playing dude, super white-teeth guy …and Aras. What is the deal with Aras? “Tell me when you start to feel a little bit of energy.” Dude! Seriously, I don’t want to feel energy or anything else coming off you! That’s not going to help us get fire, or build a shelter. *sigh* Man, I wish I had paid better attention in Boy Scouts- maybe it would have helped with our pathetic attempt at shelter building. I don’t think our “shelter” will really shelter us from anything. I wonder how the younger women are doing? I wonder what the younger women are wearing? I can't wait until we merge- I am totally the best looking guy here.
I swan, this survivin' stuff is harder than the time I had to lip-sync to "Love is Like a Butterfly" with Dolly Parton's second cousin right there in the audience! It's hot, there's bugs, and worst of all -- they put me in the older women category! Can't they tell by my perky Meg Ryan haircut that I'm not old?? I'm young! I'M STILL YOUNG!! How's callin' me old gonna help my career? Anyway, like my grandma used to say, you can want in one hand and poop in the other and see which fills up first, so I'm gonna let that go for now. When I make it to the merge, everyone will forget I was with the old women. Plus, now we've got rid of that crag-faced old lumber woman, the rest of us don't look so old anyway. What was wrong with her? All workin' her hind-end off all around camp, choppin' things and catchin' things and what-all. And then she went off and just sat by herself. Just sat there! Alone! That's just plumb weird, if you ask me. Who'd want to be alone? Ever? Alone with no
audiencefriends around? Not me.
You know the saying "older but wiser?" Well, it's true. The other wise guys and I will show those young whippersnappers how it's done. We got off to a good start when I smoked the kids (and the old broads) in that surprise reward challenge. Today's youth is sadly lacking in discipline which is something that is a big part of my life. After all, you don't have a taut stomach at my age without discipline. I was happy to learn that Dan was another military man and had even flown on a space shuttle mission. I may be bored to tears these days flying commercials jets, but my heart belongs to the military. Dan and I are working on our secret handshake to cement our alliance. I'm not sure about Samurai Bruce. He seems okay, but he doesn't appear to have spent a day in the military.
high-YA!!! Wood, coconuts, snakes...all are no match for me and my machete. I will use my experience as a black belt and lead my tribe to the end, Samurai chopping any who dare stand in our way. I'll have to keep a close eye on Terry and Dan, though. I saw them off by themselves, whispering to each other. Nothing escapes my watchful eye! Shane seems to be having trouble adjusting, but I will get him in line. First learn stand, then learn fly. Did I mention that I'm a fifth-degree black belt? high-YA!!! Have no fear, young grasshoppers...I will get more screentime next week!
Chicks dig the yoga, man. And, hey, chicks dig the Yoga Man, ifyafeelme. God knows the other dudes could feel my heat when we used our hands to make the Tower of Power. Oh yeah, my blazing inner fifth/sex chakra radiated down through everyone's paws. Plus, bonus, I could totally magnetize their auras. Even though he's kind of stubby, Austin's like, got a Tiger vibe going on. I'm pretty sure he'd kill for me. Totally angry energy. Bonus. Nick's a total Wolverine. Big. Strong. He'd just as soon eat a berry as he would this log. He'd kill for me too. And I have no idea what Bobby is. Yet. I'm pretty sure his lack of Tower action nearly cost us the challenge. Thank The Creator for the Tiger, Wolverine, and the Bobcat. Yeah, I'm a Bobcat. Both inside and in the sack, ifyafeelme. Oh yeah, let's just say there's more than one little goddess who's enjoyed a morning rice cake with me. Can't wait for the next challenge. Maybe that little blonde wild haired chick will look the Bobcat's way.
Yay me! I found one of the amulets. I ran my cute and fabulous tushy off. Not too shabby for a former beauty queen, huh? This certainly has been a whirlwind three days. It feels like forever since I was getting my pedicure, shopping with my daughter and filling my time with the PTA. This is just another way to fill my resume. I mean, c’mon. It’s not like I can hold a job for more than a minute. Teen queen, robocop, real estate, track coach. I get bored easily and with the hubby gone all the time, I can only lounge around the pool watching Carlos the pool cleaner gyrate his hips in a hypnotic motion for so long. Tonight at Tribal Council Cirie, Melinda and I decided to shake things up right from the start. We’ve all seen previous Survivor’s and realized that the strongest has to go now. Not later but now. She caught a fish by luck. Our shelter is built and we have fire. So long, lumber-bitch. We're off to have a pillow fight and make s'mores.
I've got wicked YUGE choppahs. Oh yeah, I may have lost us the first challenge right off the bat, but if we have fire trouble, I swear on my mothah that I'll light up that jungle with my teeth. Whatevah it takes to keep us young chicks around. I'm no lightweight like that Courtney chick. Total whacko. All her symbolism with the turtle bullsh**? Freakin' A. I didn't come out here to bond with Mothah Earth. Freak. Her face can bond with my fist. Should have left HER ass on the island. Freak ass, punk-haired, turtle lover. But thank God for rock, scissors, paper. Misty's fine and all, but if it's between me and her on a desolate, waterless island? You'd better believe my hand will be origami fast to crush WHATEVAH she's got.
We would like to thank the following writers for contributing to this article: Dinahann, hepcat, lucy, Mariner, mrdobolina, shazzer, speedbump, SueEllenMishke, Suncat7, totoro, wayward and Yardgnome77