Leshawna

When the show returned from the commercial break the blue set floor had been polished and cleared of surf board debris and torn clothing. "Welcome back to Total Drama Fetish," greeted Blaineley. "Three girls have been transformed and there are ten more to go. Let's see who'll be our next victim." The bucket of names was wheeled over and Blaineley picked out another card. "And our next lucky lady is going to be... Leshawna!"

The audience applauded but that did little to instill confidence into the contestant. She stood up and made her way from the peanut gallery over to Blaineley. "Everything alright, Leshawna? You look nervous."

"And I have every right to be! I'm onto you, Blaineley," accused Leshawna. "Let me guess: you're got some kinda serum or **** that's gonna make my butt even bigger and get a rise out of me. Well the jokes on you! I like having junk in my trunk and can handle a little extra padding. So go ahead. Do your worst!"

"Our worst huh?" Blaineley cupped her hands and shouted. "You heard her boys! Do your worst!"

A flash of regret crossed Leshawna's face right before it scrunched. "Yow! What the-!?" Looking over her shoulder, Leshawna saw a dart was sticking out of her buttocks. She turned her anger to the stagehand holding the dart gun and then the hostess. "What the hell did you put in me?!"

"Good question. Guess we'll find out in a second."