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"Like wut," Chef growled, crossing his arms. Man, that fake blood was getting all over him! "Yew jus' up and vanished right before the last camper got gator'd, and yew expect me ter be okay with yew showin' up like this?"

He looked away carefully, doing his best to avoid hostgaze. Many men and interns had fallen to it, including Chef. Chef himself just wanted to sulk and be pissy for a bit longer.

"Ah would be, if yew didn't use it ta scare me half to death man."

Chef snorted, shaking his head. "Yew? Change? Huh! Must've sent the wrong host back, 'cause ah don't think the Chris ah know would've passed a chance to scare some campers up with that!" He nodded to the host's outfit, adding, "'course if yew want to let the campers be... 's fine with me."

Aww, how touching!

But not really.

Figuring he was probably going to be forced to sleep in the flea-infested intern den sooner or later, Chef did something unthinkable. He grabbed Chris, and drew him close...






...and then promptly ruffled his hair. Heeheehee! "Nah, o'course ah missed yew too man. 'sept ah had to have an intern fire the gull-gun. They managed to get a couple campers pretty well at first, but then they slacked off. Ah would've had yew mannin' the gun, man."

Very few as in one and only one? Yeah.

...Okay, maybe the producers would count too, but as if they would risk getting Chris!haircare products onto their hands!

"Ah know, which is why ah wanted you there to run it, but nooo, the producers had me go ahead and run th'challenge without yew man." Chef sulked, releasing the host. "Mmm... that's an idea man! Wanna see who can hit the most campers? Heh heh heh."

Chef blinked and actually stumbled in surprise when Chris pulled on him. "Fine! Fine man, but -" he reached out and snagged his hat back, plopping it back onto his head. "Ah'm wearin' mah hat. Period -- yew go git yer own!"

"Ah put it up at where Challenge 5 is," he said, pointing towards part of camp that had its own small cliff for campers to climb up. "See? Yew can still see some of the mines on th' cliff side smokin'. If yew look around, you'll see th' gun pointing towards a pit with beavers'n'play balls. I'll meetchu there, man."

While waiting for the esteemed host to show up, Chef had been busy catching and reloading the seagulls. "Catching" wasn't really an accurate term for it, come to think of it. He simply had to pick them up and stuff them into the launching cage before an animal wandered by and ate them.

"Yo! Chris-man!" He called, waving as the host made his appearance. "Yew like mah obstacle course?"