A couple of notes: You’ll notice we’re only covering the first hour here; the second will follow. Also, you’ll notice it’s broken into pages. I’ve got nothing to gain from pageviews, so believe me, it’s not that. I just think the look of it gets really long and unmanageable when it’s all one big string of text, so I think this is somewhat better. If you hate it, we can always go back.
The sun is rising over Gabon, which can only mean one thing: hippo party! And indeed, here are some hippos. And what are they doin’? They are havin’ a party. A large group of elephants is running to the party, frightened of being left behind (not in the Kirk Cameron sense), and a lone gorilla is all, “Wait for meeeeee!” That gorilla will be first to fall asleep, and his bra will wind up in the freezer. Various other animals text each other (“r u goin?” “hpos r LAME”) about their plans. One gorilla stands in a tree and pounds his chest, like, “This? Is this what you want to see? Am I a clown to you? Is this all you think there is to us? Or did you want me to do my Tarzan yell?”
And now, Jeff “I Took The Money I Would Have Spent On A Tie And Bought Me A Third Testicle” Probst stands on a hill in his dweeby ball cap, which makes him look oddly like Michael Scott on Beach Day, and tells us that we are in Gabon, “one of the last untouched places on the planet.” He does not add, “Until now, because: touchy touchy touchy! I am touching you, Gabon! I am touching you!” We see that Gabon does have stretches of beach, so the producers have not entirely left the format of the last bazillion seasons behind. But Gabon also has waterfalls, hills, and a collection of eighteen American dorks who will, in one year, be available for the red-carpet premiere of your direct-to-DVD movie starring Tia Carrere and Hunter from Survivor: Marquesas as an artist and the FBI agent hired to protect her from a stalker. (I made it up, but doesn’t it sound good?)
I love how they show the USA on a globe, and then they spin the globe, like, “And Africa is aaaaall the way over here.” I have to say, I feel that I have a certain amount of expertise in the area of Africa, because whenever an African person flies from Africa to Chicago, he kind of flies over the part of the country where I live, and I poke my head out the window to make sure everything is going okay, because that is my job. YOU’RE WELCOME. Jeff announces that the group is being dumped “with nothing but their street clothes.” And thus does the Wardrobe-A-Tron rotate back to “let’s see a lot of people trying to rock a pair of underpants at tribal council.” Sigh. There is one fellow whose “street clothes” for Survivor include a bow tie. (“Bob wears a bow tie everywhere he goes. Except train stations at three o’clock in the morning, in which case he wears a tuxedo.” Joke just for myself!) This will be great if it turns out that one of the challenges requires the operation of a slide projector and a laser pointer.
Jeff says that these eighteen dorks come from “different walks of life,” and one muscled woman tells us she is an 2004 Olympic gold medalist in the women’s 4×400 relay. Yikes. She tells us she will use “blazing speed” to “win the hell out of this game.” The hell will be won out of this game, do you hear? Game, you will soon be devoid of hell; what do you say to THAT? Bow Tie Bob says that in the winter, he’s a high-school physics professor, and in the summer, he works in commercial fishing. I like Bob, but really, don’t walk around with an actual blade of grass hanging out of your mouth, Bob. When it comes to contestant associations, I am pro-“hee” but anti-Hee Haw. A young, tattoo-wearing man says that he did many bad things as a teenager, but he’s here to – you know it – win! Let me guess: his name is Aspirationz. Hopez? Dezirez? Planz?
Bald-n-Snotty says that he “grew up very well.” On the Concorde and “in the best hotels with money.” Yes, that’s how we all hope to spend our childhoods: in the warm embrace of the hospitality industry and rolling in dough. I never grow tired of returning to share Thanksgiving dinners with the same waiters from whom I ordered room service as a child. “Walter,” I say, “It is wonderful to see you; how are your children, if you have any?”
Young Frathead says that “this is Earth’s last Eden.” See, I totally think the government of Gabon came up with that to keep people from eating all their fruit. Do so at your own risk! You may be naked and not realize it! Thank you for not ingesting our knowledge! Do not feed the snakes! No flash photography! As the dorks are led by a young woman in a coral sack dress, Jeff Probst declares that there will be only one winner. One winner? SURELY YOU ARE NOT SERIOUS! All these people, and ONLY ONE WINNER? (Hey, I have covered this speech a lot of times; you would be sarcastic and bitter also.) Suit-Wearing Hottie says that his arrival was “completely awesome.” Pardon me while I note that for the next edition of Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations under “Travel To Africa, Feelings Regarding.”
“Thirty-nine days, eighteen people, one survivor!” says Jeff Probst, who has stopped hanging out of helicopters for this moment and now does it while standing on a hill in his little cargo shorts, like Winko the camp counselor in some crap-ass ‘80s movie with Michael J. Fox and Nancy McKeon. Boo.
Credits. Somewhere, someone thinks he can already tell who wins.
“Yodel-a-ee” says the music as somewhere, the only lonely goatherd in Africa thinks, “Oh my God, I am FINALLY getting a girlfriend.” The dorks pull up to a clearing and stop, where Jeff says the “Earth’s last Eden” thing to them again. He tells them that they’re going to go down the line, and they’ll introduce themselves and say what they do. This should be good.
