*Note from BBA*

Okay, so the BBA ain't such a Big BadAss at coding. There was an important detail left out of the post separating John and Marlena. If you're read it once already, read it again. It's all fixed now.

Back to your regularly scheduled surviving....
confessed by Your Host, The Big BadAss at 10:54 PM

[Exhausted and worried, Laura sits quietly holding a sleeping Belle. Catching sight of a happily disheveled Marlena emerging from the trees, she can't help but laugh.] Well look what the cat dragged in? [Laura looks questioningly.]

Marlena: [Unable to keep from smiling, Marlena's eyes dance.] What?

What? [Grins], Don't play innocent with me...I just have one question--Can John still walk?

Marlena: [Marlena tries to look sternly but almost immediately dissolves into a hopeless fit of giggles.] Laura!

Well you were gone for so long...

Belle: [Awakened by the commotion, a drowsy-eyed Belle turns to Marlena.] Mommy! Look what I made for you. [Running quickly to the tent, she hurries back to show an expectant Marlena her daisy necklace.]

Marlena: [Smiles brightly], That's beautiful Sweetie. [Looking at her watch], You know what...it's after someone's bedtime. You ready for Mommy to tuck you in? [After a moment, Belle nods.]

confessed by Laura at 10:27 PM

*AHA!*

(The Big BadAss slams through the door to the Horton Cabin with a *bang.* The occupants of the bed don't even seem to notice.)

<ahem>

(No answer - John and Marlena, still wearing their shoes and completely dressed, are wildly going at it, unaware of anything but each other)

<AHEM>

(Still no answer - only the couple's grunts and moans as they roll over, putting Marlena on top of John. BBA rolls her eyes, crosses her arms across her chest, and steps up to the foot of the bed)

*A*H*E*M*!

(They *still* don't realize they're not alone)

(muttering to herself) Good grief this is getting ridiculous. (shrugs her shoulders and sighs) Oh, well. A BadAss has gotta do what a BadAss has gotta do.

(she walks to the side of the bed nearest the...um...busy pair and grabs the back of the waist of Marlena's shorts, yanks hard, and successfuly separates the two, to their immediate protest: "What the hell?" and "Oh, my" among them)

Uh-uh-uh! I wouldn't fuss if I were you.

(defeated, the two exchange glances - those nearly-inaudible voices whirring through the air again)

And cut the google-eye psychic-connection talk, all right? Man, you two can be annoyingly...sappy sometimes.

John: Look, we....

(cutting her eyes at him) Broke the rules. Uh-huh. You wanna know how *many* rules you two broke? Well, let's see....tribal swapping...consorting in an out-of-bounds area...no...make that *two* out of bounds areas - Bob saw you two in the shower earlier this morning....(glances around the room to see it in a mess - pillows thrown off of the couch with sheets and towels scattered about, an overturned vase on the table along with a rumpled runner and scattered silver and broken dishes on the floor surrounding it, a very crooked print hanging on the wall, obviously skewed by something...um...questionable...) Good *God,* do you two have no bounds? Sheesh. (talking over her shoulder to Bob) Remind me to call Alice Horton when we get back to the mess tent and warn her. This place is going to need some *serious* cleaning. Especially....EW...that table. (back to John and Marlena) What is it with you two and tables anyway? Bet you were fully dressed, too, weren't you? Not going to complain about that one, though, because if that wasn't one of your little quirks, I'd be needing some serious therapy, not to mention poor Bob here. I mean, come on, Marlena. You *know* what a thing he has for you.

(John's shoulders square, his hackles raised by the comment) Oh, chill out, MercMan. Your honor is safe with Bob. He has issues anyway. (shaking off all she has seen and slipping back into official Big BadAss mode, she grabs Marlena by the wrists and drags her toward the door) I think it's time to call this little party off. You, Doc, need to get your curvy little butt back to *your* tribe on *your* side of the island and keep it there. Go...go take a whack at BradySmurf. Knock him over for me. The little jerk deserves it. (She gives Marlena a firm push through the door as John strides across the room growling something about his son. BBA whirls around to face him, her short statue a moot point under her ominous presence)

And *YOU.* First off, I suggest you start listening to your wife about that freak kid of yours. It takes a sick sick soul to dress up like a skank just to make people think that she's switched sides, you know? (he gives her a royally confused look. she sighs and begins speaking slowly so he can understand) Brady made a wig and dressed up like Kristen so when Marlena went skinny dipping and Brady made his move, namely coming up behind Marlena and licking his way up her neck (she shudders at the thought alone), people would think Marlena was a les-bi-an. Get the kid some help, Black. He's twisted. Sick. Whack-o. But that's not my problem, so I'll shut up. *This,* however, (points toward the bed) is my problem.

I believe Bob told you that if he caught you sneaking off, you'd have to sing cabaret songs to your tribe, am I right? (John nervously nods) Well, Bob was a little off when he told you that. (John relaxes a little, BBA grins and clears her throat again, thinking that she needs to look into some cough drops soon) You'll find your John-Travolta-esque jumpsuit back at your camp, along with the 8-track player and a checkerboard dance floor that was the result of too much spare time by our crew who was *supposed* to be keeping an eye on you and Mar. Just so you remember *not* to do this again, Bob, Fred, and I will be waiting tonight, along with the rest of your tribe, for your own personal reenactment of Saturday Night Fever. You *do* know how to disco, don't you John?

(on his look of horror, BBA's grin widens as she turns and walks out of the hut) Watch the rules, Black, and make sure your lady watches 'em, too. Any more offenses and disco will be a *dream* compared to what you'll have to do....
confessed by Your Host, The Big BadAss at 8:45 PM

Hope Less confessional Tribe Epojetahwe

Hope Less slinks through the jungle underbrush, the tribe's cross dangling from her hand. She slinks toward Bob and his handy-dandy camera. She pauses to furtively stick the cross in her makeup bag. She then touches up her shiny nose with powder, arranges her tiara properly and heads off to the rock.

Oh hi there Bob. (she's grinning madly) Did you hear the good news?! The head writer who loves *me, me, ME* the post is coming back! (nods her head furiously) Yes, that's right. Who needs Tom Langan who couldn't write his way out of a paper bag. Who needs Jim Reilly who just totally misunderstood me and punished me all because I couldn't create any chemistry with his bo. Tis wonderful! Sheri Anderson, the lovely Sheri, who penned my best storylines, who loved Bo and Hope more than any other couple, is returning to Days! Now Bob I'm not quite as happy as I should be. I've heard that skank has been slinking around with mah mawhn. That's why I've decided to take drastic measures! Besides getting Jahnwn to relive our passion, I'm going to take care of Ms Goody Two Shoes! And if I don't, well Sheri will. She'll have me back to the numerou uno island dame in no time! Ta ta!
confessed by Hope Less at 8:17 PM

Sami *Final Words* Tribe Epojetahwe
What can I say - I deserve this. No amount of Blue Nail Polish can help me now, although I did think that was a really cool shade of blue. I know I wasn't around much and I know the Tribe will do better without me. I've been watching from the sidelines a little and let me just say that I've done some pretty sick stuff in my time but nothing to match what Brady and Jim Reilly have been up to. . .. Watch your backs, people.

Belle, honey, I'm leaving my cell phone for you in case you need it but if I find out you've been using it to call Austin, I'll hunt you down. And don't let Brady get his hands on it - he likes those 976 numbers.

I'm outta' here but I'll be back if you people ever decide to go Island hopping again.
confessed by Woo Hoo at 3:32 PM

Belle *Confessional* Tribe Epojetahwe

(Belle watches a recovering Timothy sleep off his ordeal with Brady. She doesn't know why Brady does such psycho things. But after seeing his dead mother and the way she's been acting on the island, it's all starting to make sense. She's worried about what Brady said about her dad and his slut… oh no, she thinks, he's got me calling her that too! Where were they? Did that sick Tom Langan guy have *them* too? She works steadily on removing the blue nail polish from her nails and Timothy's fur, trying to figure out what to do about what she saw in the woods, and the business about Brady and that Reilly guy. How weird was it that Reilly had been torturing both of them like he was. What a sicko!)

If I could just find Daddy I know he would be able to save Jennifer… oh! I think Jennifer's mother is on the other team… if only I could find her. She needs to know about her daughter being tied to a tree next to that big vegetable thingy. Maybe I should tell that one guy. Yeah, the guy I heard people calling Governor. He must be a law kind of guy if they call him that, huh Timothy? Isn't a governor like a cop? Or the head of something?

(Timothy responds by letting out a loud snort in his sleep.)

(Belle suddenly remembers that Bob is taping her. She looks up at him and thinks once again he's looking at her perky breasts. 'Damn it's the pits to be so cute. But how come Shawn doesn't look at them? He used to be all over them when we used to share a play pen…. Cousins! Oops, I mean BOYS!')

Bob, how come you don't like believe me about seeing that Langan dude in the woods like I did? Why'd you think I'd make up something so weird and freaky? [Bob scratches at his blue beard, feigning deep thought.]

Yeah, well I know he was supposed to not be on the island anymore, but I swear I saw him. Should I tell the governor guy? Maybe he'd believe me and he has all kinds of crazy computers and stuff it'd be like right up his alley and stuff. Hey, will you watch Timothy while I go look for my dad? And if I can't find him I'm gonna get that law man. We have to save Jennifer. (Belle jumps up off the tree stump and skips away.)

Later….

(Belle looks in the governor's hut with the computers but he isn't anywhere to be found. She stomps a flip-floped foot and turns her cute little butt around and hikes off. Soon she finds herself in forbidden territory (once again). Right in front of the Horton cabin… the place Reilly told her she was born. She tip-toes up and peeks in the window.)

Oh! Mom! Dad! Mom and Dad! (She squeals. But they don't seem to hear her. She watches her mom sitting on the side of the bed tying the shoe laces of her sneakers as her dad relaxes on the bed just watching her. He's talking…. Belle can't wait to tell them both what happened, and about Reilly. She goes to the door and pulls it, but it refuses to budge. She yanks and yanks it with perky persistence, the door banging loudly. Then she tries knocking, yelling, screaming… squealing…. Nothing happens. They don't come to the door. She pops up to look in the window again and still they are on the bed… talking, as if they've never heard her. She goes to the door and tries it one last time….

She sighs with desperate relief as it finally opens and she steps inside.

Shew, I didn't think I'd ever get in here. Mom and dad… why didn't you….

(Belle stands stunned. Her blue blue very blue eyes squint into searing brightness. She's not inside the cabin at all. Her parents are not on the bed. There is no bed. The brightness eventually fades and she sees she's in a beautiful valley. Her flip-flops on green grass, under a gorgeous blue sky with marshmellowy clouds. She steps forward and looks around bewildered, but suddenly mysteriously happy.)

Where am I?

(As she strolls forward, she sees a sign that says "Welcome to Sorasville - Where Age and Real Time Never Meet"….)

Sorasville? Why does this place seem familiar? Why do I feel so yummy happy here? I'm all goose pimply!

(As she explores the streams and flowers, Belle suddenly hears what sounds like a child crying. She follows the sound and comes upon a little boy sitting under a willow tree. He looks up at her, and she smiles at him. Tears flow down his ruddy cheeks. Belle squats down next to him and wipes away his tears.)

What's the matter little guy? Are you lost?

(The boy nods his head slowly. Belle takes his hand and tells him that she'll help him. She leads the little boy toward the direction she came. She is sure someone on the island will be able to help him. As they get closer to the lone, rustic door perched on the hill suddenly the little boy rips his hand from her and runs away. Belle chases him, but stops when she loses all sight and sound of him. Quickly she runs back toward the door, hoping she will be able to get someone to come with her to find him and get him back to his parents….)

confessed by Belle at 2:07 PM

*Tribe Epojetahwe Has Spoken*

With quite the low turnout (where *are* you people, Tribe Epojetahwe??), Tribe Epojetahwe has voted off their second tribe member.

Sami Brady, please extinguish your torch and feel free to say a few parting words.

Sorry to keep this so short, but Bob and Fred have alerted me to a little <ahem> illegal...um...conjugation going on in the woods.

You know, you're gone for a few days and hell just breaks out all over. Tsk, tsk, tsk.
confessed by Your Host, The Big BadAss at 12:21 AM