With the ousting of Adric at the previous night's Tribal Council, the partying at the Gallifreya campsite continued long into the night. The big discussion, of course, was just how that meteorite penetrated the Gallifreyan defense shields, for which nobody could offer an explanation. Bernice wondered aloud what the odds of a meteorite that size actually hitting a person dead center like that, then realised that the only person anal enough to compute the probability was the guy the meteorite hit.
In the cold, harsh light of dawn (well, mid-afternoon) though, there was only concern: with Adric gone, who would be come the official Tribe Whipping Boy?
Peri, meanwhile, was thinking strategy. "I suggested to Leela and Susan that maybe we should form a women's voting block," she admits. "There are six girls left and only three guys. We can totally dominate the next three Tribal Councils and get rid of the boys. And to be honest, I'm starting to think that might not be such a bad idea, because Ben got really drunk last night on whatever stuff Bernice had left, and started making weird analogies about choking kittens or something."
The Monk, meanwhile, is growing increasingly confident. "The little voting bloc I started with Davros, Leela and the Rani is really holding together well. We're the only people left from the Thal tribe now that we finally got rid of Adric, but the Kaled people seem really disorganised so I don't think we have to worry about them voting us off one by one. They're just too darn nice to do that. Besides, if need be we can always have Leela rough them up a bit, you know, put the fear into them."
Indeed, Ben is contemplating a voting strategy far different from the Macchiavellian concept of secret alliances. "I really like everybody here," he says, "they're all a good bunch. Even that Rani bird, if you get good and drunk enough, then beat your head against a rock for an hour or two. So I'm thinking... wait for it... this is really cool... alphabet! Isn't that great? Course, the only problem is, I guess that means I'll be first. Hmmm. Well, that would only be fair. Okay, no wait, this is even better... reverse alphabet! Yeah, that's it. So I'll be voting for Susan at the next Tribal Council, but of course I totally don't mean anything by it. I'm voting my conscience, right. I'm just very lucky that it happens to be directly in tune with the alphabet. Backwards."
Our host, the ineffable Jeff Probst, shows up in hologrammatic form to announce the latest Reward Challenge to the hungry, partied-out WHOvivors of Gallifreya Hill. "This was going to be about your family and loves ones," he reveals. "But most of you losers don't have any family or loved ones, so it's going to have to be about close acquaintances instead."
A Time-Space Visualiser suddenly materialises in the air next to Jeff, and a series of images begins to play before the entranced castaways.
"Oh boy!" squeals Liz. "I didn't think I had any close acquaintances!"
The first segment is set on war-ravaged 22nd century Earth, where a distant figure is seen dodging Dalek exterminator bolts. He sees the camera, runs toward it and stops. "Susan!" says David Campbell. "I love y---oh, crap, my leg! Ow! Ow! Ow! It's gone numb! I can't walk. For the love of G--"
"Yeah, that's enough of that one," says Jeff.
Next up is a shot of a mature cat defouling a t-shirt with the name "Jason" written on it. "That's my Wolsey," sniffs Bernice.
The third image is of a prim-looking blonde girl dressed in tacky Sixties fashions. "Ben Jackson," she declares. "If you're fooling around with anyone up there in that Death Zone, I'll..."
"Next, please!" moans Ben.
Clip four is of a dopey-looking Gallifreyan Capitol Guard. "Um, hi, Leela," says Andred. "Um, I love you, or something, I guess. Yeah, I suppose that's right. Um, take care or whatever."
Next up is a large burly warrior-type with impressive facial hair and mascara. He takes one look at the camera, picks up a large mace and starts bashing it to pieces while screaming savagely. "He still loves me," Peri announces with a sniffle. "Ben, we've got to break off our fling. I'm so sorry."
"That's okay that's okay that's okay," replies a petrified Ben. "Oh cripes, Pol's gonna string me up, oh cripes, oh cripes."
Sixth is a shot of a Dalek rumbling through war-ravaged 22nd century Earth. He is pursuing someone who looks suspiciously like David Campbell. "THIS-ONE-IS-FOR-YOU-DAVROS!" he announces, shooting down the man, who appears to be speaking into some sort of camera.
The next clip is the shot of a rubbery-looking tree, swaying slightly in the breeze. "What?" says the Rani as the others stare at her. "I really liked that one. Well, after I turned him into a tree anyhow."
"Here you go, Monk," says Jeff as the visualiser suddenly depicts a slim, bare-chested Greek lad waving at the camera but saying nothing. "Oh, is that your son?" asks Peri. "Son..." muses the Monk. "Um, yes, yes, son, that's the ticket."
Suddenly, the screen goes dark to everyone surprise; all eyes turn to Liz. "Sorry, Liz," says Jeff. "We couldn't actually find anyone who admits to knowing you for more than twenty-five weeks, let alone who wanted to go on camera."
Liz sighs. "I knew I should have gotten out more."
(Editor's note: I really can't beat the actual scene from Survivor for sheer strangeness, so I'm not even gonna try. Just picture Greg's sister making monkey noises at the camera and Greg talking about how other people are thinking about feeling her, and you'll understand. For the sake of completeness, the WHOvivors have a quick little archery contest and the winner of the chance to send a TSV message back to his or her close acquaintance is, oh let's say... Davros.)
Having now spent three-and-a-half weeks in the Death Zone, life at the Gallifreya campsite had basically become a routine. The Monk would go hunting for food, sometimes accompanied by the Rani or Leela. As three of the four members of the still-secretive Thal Alliance, they'd take the opportunity to try to decide whose exit from the Death Zone they should attempt to engineer next. Davros would stay back at camp and cook, occasionally running over people's feet with his travelling machine for kicks. The other women, Bernice, Liz, Susan and Peri would take care of the sleeping quarters and the other meagre edifices. Ben would go hide in a corner and muse on his backward-alphabet voting strategy. At night, everyone would gather by the light of the everlasting matches and make fun of Adric.
So it went on Day Twenty-Four, except of course for the latest Immunity Challenge. Demonstrating that the WHOvivor producers back in the Gallifreyan Capitol were entirely running out of ideas, this one involved the castaways lashed to a variety of ropes, running around like chickens with their heads cut off, and collecting a bunch of shiny little objects. Some of the WHOvivors quickly gave up, with the Rani deciding that she wasn't interested in playing with ropes. "Well, not this way, at least." In the end, it was a race between Peri and Susan, with Peri winning by a cup size, giving her immunity for the day.
That night, the nine remaining WHOvivors make the long trek from the Gallifreya campsite to the Dark Tower for Tribal Council...
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