The Total Jumbo Jet banked over the Seine, the Eiffel Tower piercing the morning mist like a giant iron needle. Paris, the city of romance, art, and—if the producers had their way—utter humiliation. But as the contestants looked out the windows, the mood was anything but romantic.
Chris McLean stepped onto the tarmac at Charles de Gaulle, wearing a beret and a striped shirt that looked remarkably like he was trying to audition for a mime troupe. He looked at his watch, then at the camera.
"Paris in the springtime!" Chris announced. "The air is full of love, crepes, and the sound of my producers screaming in my ear because the ratings for Courtney's elimination were 'too high' for their comfort. They want more drama? I'll give them art."
The Puzzle of the Louvre
The challenge, "Now Museum, Now You Don't," took place in a massive, specially cleared wing of a museum. Each team was presented with a pile of shattered marble fragments—remains of some of the most famous statues in history.
"Your task is simple," Chris said, leaning against a velvet rope. "Put the pieces back together. First team to restore their masterpiece wins. Last team to finish... well, you know the drill."
Team Victory was assigned the Venus de Milo. Harold was busy trying to calculate the mathematical curvature of the marble, but he was interrupted by a blur of blonde hair.
"Oh! I know this one!" Lindsay chirped. She didn't hesitate. She began grabbing pieces of marble, fitting them together with the speed and precision of a master clockmaker.
"Wait, Lindsay, you have to consider the structural integrity of the—" Harold started, but he stopped mid-sentence. Lindsay had already completed the torso. She was moving with a focus that left the rest of Team Victory—Bridgette, DJ, Ezekiel, and Leshawna—standing with their mouths hanging open.
"How are you doing that?" Bridgette asked, stunned.
"It's just like accessorizing, silly!" Lindsay giggled, snapping the head into place. "You have to match the textures and the lines. It's basically just a giant, heavy 3D puzzle from the 1700s!"
Team Victory finished in record time. Lindsay was, without question, the MVP of the day.
The Breaking Point of the Geek
Across the hall, Team Amazon was falling apart. Sierra was in the middle of a full-scale meltdown. She had cornered Cody against a statue of a dying Gaul and was sobbing loudly—a high-pitched, obviously fake wail that echoed through the marble halls.
"Cody-wody! You didn't look at me once during the flight! Do you hate me? Is it because I accidentally used your toothbrush to clean my shoes? Say something!"
Cody looked like a man who had spent forty days in a desert without water. His shoulders were slumped, and his eyes were hollow. Heather, trying to glue a piece of a Greek vase, finally snapped.
"Sierra! Shut. Up!" Heather hissed, pointing a glue-covered finger at her. "He's not talking to you because you're a terrifying stalker who doesn't understand the concept of personal space! Get a grip or I'll glue your mouth shut!"
Sierra let out an even louder, more dramatic sob. "See? Everyone is mean to me! Cody, protect me!"
Cody didn't move. He just looked up at the ceiling, took a deep breath, and walked away. He didn't go back to the puzzle. He walked straight up to Chris McLean, who was busy arguing with Chef about the quality of the local croissants.
"Chris," Cody said, his voice quiet but dangerously firm. "I'm done. Either you move me to another team—any team—or I'm quitting right now. I can't do another hour of this."
Chris stopped mid-sentence, looking genuinely surprised. He looked at Cody, then at the hysterical Sierra, then back at the boy. He thought for a long moment, rubbing his chin. Moving a contestant mid-game was a huge breach of "producer protocol," but then again, Chris wasn't following the rules anymore.
"You know what, Cody?" Chris said, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I like the initiative. The Amazons have been a bit too crowded anyway. Consider yourself traded. As of right now, you're the newest member of Team Myrmidon."
Cody's eyes widened with relief. "Thank you. Seriously."
The Myrmidon Mistake
The trade, however, didn't help Team Myrmidon win the challenge. Alejandro was too busy trying to figure out how to manipulate Cody to focus on the statue, and Noah was distracted by the sheer absurdity of the puzzle. They finished last.
Back at the elimination ceremony, under the flickering lights of the Eiffel Tower, the mood was grim.
"Well, Myrmidons," Chris said, sitting on a folding chair. "New member, same old results. Last place. Someone's going home."
Alejandro didn't hesitate. He knew he couldn't target Noah yet, and Cody was too new to be a fair target. He looked at Izzy. She was currently trying to eat a baguette she had found in a trash can, making loud airplane noises.
"Izzy is a liability," Alejandro whispered to Cody and Noah. "She's unpredictable, she's mad, and she's the reason our statue had three legs and no head. We need to cut the dead weight."
Cody, wanting to stay in Alejandro's good graces after his "rescue" from Team Amazon, nodded. "Yeah, she's... she's a lot."
Noah just rubbed his temples, staring at his ballot. He knew Alejandro was playing Cody like a fiddle, but he also knew Izzy was... well, Izzy. He cast his vote for Alejandro, but it wasn't enough.
The Reveal
"The votes are in," Chris announced. "Izzy, the 'Drop of Shame' is calling your name."
Izzy stopped chewing. She stood up, brushed the crumbs off her shirt, and suddenly, the "crazy" look in her eyes vanished. She stood up straight, her posture becoming professional, even graceful.
"Wait," Noah said, his eyes widening. "What just happened?"
Izzy looked at Noah, and for the first time in three seasons, her voice was calm, articulate, and completely sane.
"Honestly, Noah?" Izzy said, a small, tired smile on her face. "I was just playing the part. I wanted to be a 'character.' I figured if I was the 'crazy girl,' I'd get noticed by film scouts. I thought if I acted like a cartoon, I'd finally get a role in a real movie. But I realized today... nobody actually sees me. They just see the act."
Noah's jaw dropped. He had spent months thinking she was a lost cause, a chaotic force of nature. To realize she had been acting the entire time to get a career boost... it was a level of meta-gaming that even he hadn't anticipated.
"You... you were faking it?" Noah asked, stunned.
"Not all of it," Izzy winked, her old spark returning for a second. "I really do like explosives. But the 'Brainzilla' stuff? The talking to spiders? That was just for the ratings. Anyway, good luck, Noah. Watch your back with the Prince of Persuasion over there."
Izzy didn't wait for Chef. She walked to the edge of the plane's open door, looked back at the stunned faces of her teammates, and took a graceful, professional dive into the Parisian night.
"I'm coming for you, Hollywood!" she yelled, her voice fading.
Noah sat in silence, staring at the empty seat. He had voted for Alejandro because he thought Alejandro was the biggest threat. But he realized now that he had completely missed the person sitting right next to him.
Chris McLean watched the whole thing, a look of genuine intrigue on his face. "Wow. Even I didn't see that coming. Paris really is the city of masks, isn't it?"
He turned to the camera, his eyes sharp.
"Don't go anywhere. Because we're heading to Newfoundland next, and I have a feeling things are about to get even more... authentic."