Chapter Text
"Rise and shine, my dear contestants!" Dhar Mann yells into his megaphone, tearing the door open with such excitement that he rips the entire thing clean off.
"Ah, that's just lovely. Not only do we have to sleep on these shitty beds, but now we won't even have any noise cancellation." Logan whines as he climbs out of his baby cot, back cracking from straining his body all night to fit in there.
"Oh? You're talking as if you think you deserve to sleep comfortably." Dhar Mann shakes his head at Logan, voice full of disappointment. "A-Ah! Sir! I was... uh, just, umm... kidding! I-I think??" Logan stutters, sweating enough to fill an entire swimming pool.
"If you insist. This is your last warning. It's 5pm, so start preparing for your shift. Also, Logan, mop up that sweat. Don't even think about bathing in it." Dhar Mann grits his teeth as he walks out, cringing at the thought of one of his boys taking a nice little dip in the pool.
The very second that Dhar Mann is out of sight, Logan rips his shirt off and dives head-first into his sweat puddle He lays flat on the ground face-down and begins doing freestyle. Andrew Tate doesn't want to miss this opportunity to flex his muscles and tats, so he strips down to his Thomas the Tank Engine boxers and joins in on the fun.
With two men already going at it, it doesn't take much longer for Childe to join in on the idiocy, his ginger chest hair showing in its full glory.
Gordon covers his eyes whilst Dream huddles in the corner, feeling insecure about his obesity. Trump goes over to him in an attempt to reconcile with him, but is pushed away in an instant.
He stumbles over backwards and slams down onto his back. The disturbing cracking sound causes the boys to stop swimming in midair for a moment.
"D-Donald!!!" Dream rushes over to his ex-lover of a few hours, 3D cube-shaped tears flowing down his face in honor of his Minecraft addiction. "A-Agh... D-Dream... I'm s-sorry... for... ch-cheating on you. Forgive me, please..." Trump chokes his final words out before dying cutely.
"Donald!!! DONALDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!" Dream yells, violently shaking Trump's shoulders in an attempt to wake him up from his eternal slumber.
There was no response, as expected. Trump might've believed he was great, but not great enough to rise again from the dead, it seems. The boys end up having to forcefully pull Dream away since he was being obsessive at this point.
"Mate, he's a goner. His fall... yeah, it killed him." Gordon converts into a realist.
Dream falls to his knees crying and wailing. Dhar Mann barges into the dormitory with a tray of soggy cereal and spoiled milk.
"WHAT IN AUTISM ISN'T A DISABILITY IS GOING ON IN HERE!?!" he reaches to tear the door open before realizing he'd already done so before. Now what will he take his anger out on? He is blessed with the sight of Trump's vertebrae sticking out of his body and a trio of shirtless men soaked in sweat. He almost drops the tray in shock at the sight of such a disaster, but his muscular hands were locked onto it far too securely.
Dhar Mann facepalms, carefully setting down his breakfast. The room is silent except for Dream's quiet sobs, adding to the puddle of sweat.
"Everybody..." Dhar Mann takes a deep breath. "GET OUT!!!" he screams so loudly that deaf people hear again for the first time, the method proving to be even more effective than the world's best hearing aids.
All of the contestants hurry out of the room single-file, with Dream at the back of the line dragging himself along. It was quite the miserable sight. Everyone takes a seat in the main lobby, trying to compose themselves after what just happened. Logan, Andrew and Childe shake the sweat off their bodies, trying to dry off from their swim session.
Dream twirls his luscious locks between his short, stubby fingers in anticipation, stressing over the charges of manslaughter. He would have stayed by Trump's side, but Dhar Mann is too scary to defy.
Dhar Mann reenters the room with a calm expression and peaceful smile. Nobody could tell whether it was genuine or not until he answered the question himself. "I am extremely disappointed in all of you. Firstly, you three..." Dhar Mann ditches t-shirts at the speed of light at each of the boys faces, a loud slapping sound echoing throughout the room upon impact.
After they equip their shirts, Dhar Mann continues. "Now, then. Trump has been eliminated because... well, he's dead! But... the exciting news is that you won't be getting a replacement! Everyone's behaviour today was horrendous."
He slams a box of stale cereal down on the table, along with a carton of unrefrigerated milk. "Your shift begins in ten minutes. Eat up, everybody."
"Yes, sir." the contestants agree in fear of what would happen if they don't, forcing themselves to eat.