*sniffles* She referenced Monty Python, Hamilton, and Star Wars????

IF ONLY I WAS STILL HERE!!!!

Also, Host, are you Riddler or Mirax? 

Ok, I so I will be camping for about a week, please keep this thread alive.

I give you fair warning, this next chapter is a little bit weird. Just a little. Anyway, here's day five:

Day 5 Part 1

The CBers at breakfast looked like they had been through a battle. They had dark circles under their eyes and haggard expressions. Their shoulders slumped, their eyelids drifted closed. The Host looked frightened at their arrival.

"What happened?"

"Well," Bookworm said, yawning, "we had a movie marathon-"

"How late did it end?" The Host looked incredulous.

"Not late, actually," she said. "But then we had a light saber fight." 

"That would be where the pool noodles came from-?"

"Yeah. And then Fúdìmó joined...but, well..."

"He took it a bit too seriously," Brookeira said. "And since some people ended up with...altered appearances..." Arwen experimentally flexed her fingers while Kestrel rubbed her nose self-consciously. "We had to change them back. Which took a while."

"Well, is everyone okay?"

"Yeah, we're good."

"Okay then. Time to announce the next challenge! Today's challenge is a pie-eating contest." 

Masked Piester leapt out of her seat and gaped at The Host. "Pies?" she said, sounding oddly sane.

The Host braced herself. "Yes. Pies."

MP exploded. She grinned wickedly and crowed, "My time has come! You'll all wish you appreciated my pie prowess now! Just you wait! I'm winning this."

But MP had unintentionally referenced Hamilton...

"There's a million things I haven't done! But just you wait!"

"Alexander Hamilton, Hamilton, just you waaaaait!"

"Where's your family from? Unimportant, there's a million things I haven't done but, just you wait, just you wait."

Unfortunately, the phrase was used in several songs.

The room began to descend into chaos. Only one person wasn't preoccupied with flying pie exclamations ("You are ALL going DOWN." "Calm down, Masked Piester!") and Hamilton references ("When he was ten, his father split-" "I am not throwing away my shot!" "So so so-" "We get it!"). 

Arwen was severely displeased. Bad things happened when Arwen was severely displeased. Most of the time, Arwen was just a slightly (slightly) crazy Æ who liked cupcakes. But on very rare occasions (about 0.245 times a year) someone displeased her so severely as to move her to seeking true vengeance. This was one of those occasions.

The night before, Fúdìmó had transformed Arwen's arm into a salamander. Arwen usually had no quarrel with salamanders; she found nothing about them particularly unpleasant. However, today, for some reason, the amphibian filled her with flaming rage. At the time, she very nearly boiled over, but in the end just barely managed to regain her composure and decide she must seek revenge through surreptitious means. And without Leafpool to calm her down, Arwen's rarely-awakened rage continued to grow. Her desire for revenge would be satisfied, of course, by itching powder. 

Arwen stealthily crept into the kitchen, where Leafpool was assisting in the baking of pies (that is, taste testing. Elimination wasn't so bad). The Æs eyes widened at the sight of the only person who could identify and defuse her anger (she only got to be really, truly angry 0.245 times a year! Couldn't Leafpool let her have her fun?). Taking care to be completely silent, she pulled out a packet of itching powder (the edible kind! She wasn't a monster.) and poured its contents into the pie conveniently labeled with Fúdìmó's name. Elated with her success, Arwen left the kitchen. 

You should never have turned Arwen's arm into a salamander, Fúdìmó. It has set her down a very dark path, one lined with blackberry pies and bags of itching powder.

To the top!

I never want this to die!

PLEASE LET SANDRA BE ELIMINATED!!!

Uh, what? Sorry, but how about you get eliminated instead?

Excuse moi? You have been nothing but a nuisance since the day we got here.

Well, the only people who should win are people who know right from left!

Well, sor-RY if I didn't want to use your ability to fly as an advantage! I mean, come on. I may be many things, but I am not a cheater.

You are, however, an optomist, a weirdo, a lame-o, a person who doesn't respect my incredible abilities to cheat and steal stuff from Russel, and you're a complete bookworm. And movie-worm. And game-worm. Those movies were awful, those games were boring, and seriously? Why are you such a bookworm, Bookworm?

Um... oookay...

Also, I need a ride home on Saturday. I'm going to Piester's room for a sleepover.

But you can fly, and you'll never be leaving this building anyway, so why do you want me to drive you home?

I meant a ride on your shoulder.

Cool, cool...

Also, on a completely unrelated note, I bought a clown car online for 800 bucks. By bucks, I mean deer.

Deer!?

Oh, yeah. they sold for 100 dollars a pop.

ARE YOU KIDDING ME???

Noperdoosies! So if you do want to drive me home from Piester's...

No. Way! I gave you wings when I created you, so use them!

~~~~~~~

Host, it would be funny if you put the arrival of the clown car in the ski lodge!

Top!

Love it so far! 

New chapter will be here tomorrow! Not quite finished with it yet. I would like to tell everyone that I am not anyone who's been guessed yet, which I know includes OTR, Mirax, and several others whose names I can't recall. Sorry for not replying to all the guesses!

Well. If you thought the last one was strange...

Day 5 Part 2

Leafpool found Arwen stewing, which was a bad sign. Stewing implied anger, and, well...Arwen's angry moments could be compared to those of a certain Dr. Banner when it came to magnitude. Though Leafpool managed to calm her down, when she tried to get information about the manifestations of the Æ's rage, Arwen clammed up. This left Leafpool with nothing to do but continue with the challenge as planned and hope for the best.

Well, Leafpool would settle for not having to go to court.

At any rate, nothing was to be done, for the pie-eating contest was about to start. The contestants watched as the blackberry pies were brought forward, their expressions ranging from ecstatic- Masked Piester- to deeply concerned- Mrs. Elton- to outright terrified- The Riddler's CAPTCHA, Charles, who had a deep-seated phobia of pie. No one was sure of its cause, but there it was. Charles was deathly scared of the pies.

"Alright, every-" The Host was cut off by a loud poof, and Owlgirl suddenly appeared in the middle of the grassy yard (the Host had had a feeling things would get a bit messy and didn't want to ruin the floors).

"I've got it! It was Gandalf with Burr's pistol on Tatooine!"

With another poof, September appeared opposite her. "No! It was Gandalf with the Elder Wand on Tatooine!"

"Wait, what?" Owlgirl said, "I thought we ruled out the Elder Wand."

"But Gandalf has mysterious cloaking powers," Septemeber wiggled her fingers for emphasis. "Remember?"

"Ohhhh, right. That makes sense, thank you." Seeing the shocked CBers around her, Owlgirl explained, "Fandom CLUE."

And with a final poof and a lovely bit of purple special-effects smoke, the two girls disappeared.

"Um...okay!" The Host said, recovering. "This is the fifth challenge! The last person to finish their pie loses!"

"YEAH!!!" MP shouted, then paused. "Question: once I finish, can I use my pie blaster to shoot the slow people?"

"...No." Crew members placed blackberry pies at each place of the long picnic tables that had been erected in the yard. "Everybody take your places! Your pie will be labeled."

"Um, okay," Mei said, searching for her pie. MP began to eat hers right away.

"We're not starting yet!" Another pie was placed in front of MP, who looked disgruntled at the interruption, though not upset by the idea of more pie.

"Okay, everyone situated?" After general affirmation, The Host began to count down. "Alright. Timer starts in Three...Two...One...Go!"

After a moment of awkward staring, the CBers began to eat their pies. The only one who was really racing was MP. The others were just eating somewhat energetically, while Mrs. Elton was daintily wiping pie off her face with an embroidered handkerchief.

Fúdìmó hated many things. Pie, though most likely one of them (Fúdìmó hated pretty much everything, excluding himself and  immortality, of course) was not foremost among them, and so the irritable wizard was not entirely averse to partaking of it. He was, however, averse to aggravating itches, which he suddenly seemed to be developing several of. Fúdìmó scratched his shoulder, but the itch persisted, along with a particularly irksome one on his nose. He frowned. He was the Dark Lord! He would not be cowed by simple itches! He was not bovine in any way! He was-

"Fúdìmó, are you okay?" Kestrel asked. "You look kind of red."

"Is that a rash?" Arwen's voice dripped with incredibly fake-sounding concern. 

Kestrel called Mei, who had finished her pie, over. "Is he okay?"

He certainly didn't look it. Fúdìmó currently bore a striking resemblance to a kettle about to boil over. Arwen began to inch away. Fúdìmó would certainly attempt to punish her for her prank, and he was probably quite eager to do so. Best stay away.

A crew member who just happened to be an expert on skin ailments (they were all experts on one thing or another) came over. "Itching powder," he said, the response as immediate as that of a Sorting Hat declaring Draco Malfoy a Slytherin.

Arwen was openly grinning now. And quite wickedly, too. Her vindication had cleared her of common sense.

"Arwen, did you do this?" Leafpool asked, even though she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

She was suddenly brought back to reality. "Um, haha, why would I do that? Poor, poor, Fúdìmó. He looks as if someone fed him Prankster Patrick's All-Purpose Edible Itching Powder. Such a shame."

Brookeira raised an eyebrow from where she was trying to restrain Masked Piester from using her blaster.

A large portal filled with swirling colors (mainly purple) appeared among the tables. Shadowmoon stepped out dramatically.

"Arwen, you might need to work on your acting skills," she said. 

"What? I have absolutely no clue what you're talking about. Are you insinuating that I- dear, sweet, Arwen- could have committed such a heinous act as put itching powder in my beloved friend Fúdìmó's pie?"

"Yes," Fúdìmó said flatly, his cold rage evident (though whether his red face was the result of anger or an awful rash was unsure).

"But-"

The Host pulled out a rule book. "Tampering with the pie of another contestant is grounds for disqualification. Disqualification may be repealed if rule-breaker can recite the poem 'The Raven' backwards upon time of disqualification," she read. "Can you do that?"

"Um...Yes!" Arwen hurriedly replied. "Nevermore, quoth the raven! On...Thursday. With waffles. I know there was something about...yes, waffles! With jam!"

"It was a nice try," the Host offered. "But I still have to disqualify you."

The disqualification ceremony would have commenced then and there, if not for the Chaotic Plot Twist that, out of nowhere, appeared in the form of a colorful clown car crashing into the clearing. The chaos continued when Sandra carefully clambered out, crying, "I object!"

"Sandra, this isn't a court," The Host said. 

"I object to that too!" 

"Again, that has no effect-"

Suddenly a pie hit Mirax in the face. Then several more careened through the portal, which was still open and swirling. MP had retrieved her blaster. 

"Sandra! Sandra, what the heck are you doing! Get off that clown car!" Sandra cackled as Bookworm leapt into the air, trying to catch the unruly bird.

"PIES FOREVER!!!" 

"I AM NOT THROWING AWAY MY SHOT!" Stan shouts.

"Excellent non sequitur!" Mrs. Elton says, somehow managing to sound both prim and sarcastic. She then looks shocked at her momentary failure in manners.

The portal swirls more violently, then veers to the left, sucking up the clown car.

"My clown car!" Sandra wails.

It sucks up MP's pie blaster.

"MY BLASTERRRRR!"

"Oops." Shadowmoon darts over to the portal and jumps through. The portal closes. For a moment everyone just sits, stunned.

"...We'll try a new challenge tomorrow." The Host says faintly.