BJP: Monkey Business (The Re-Cap)

No one was voted off last week. So for the precious 15 minutes that I get inside of Jeff's head this week, I didn't have anyone to heckle as they took that long walk of shame. I figured I had a little time to visit Chuay Jai camp and chat up the remaining six. It would be a great opportunity to hear from their own mouths how they thought the end game would play out.

Actually talking to these people while they were still in the game wasn't something I really looked forward to, since I was looking for laughs, and this bunch had already proven that they were the most boring, least entertaining group Survivor has ever had. But although the Chuay Gahn Five had said very little to clue the viewers at home into their back-cave alliances and pecking orders, I thought they'd be putty in my, er, Jeff's hands as I showed up at camp unannounced. But as usual, these folks had very little to say. But you can't blame a guy for trying, and as lame as this column is, you have to work with the material you're given.

Naturally, I headed for the one person who was the odd man out. The guy who was now on the outside looking in. When I hit Chuay Jai camp I made a beeline straight for Jake, the last member of the original Sook Jai tribe.

"Hey Jake."

"Whoah," he said in that slow Texas drawl, startled out of a glazy-eyed funk. "What you doing here? Is ta-day a challenge partner?"

"No, nothing like that. I was just in the neighboorhood. Came by to see what's up around camp."

"Well," Jake said, "if you want to get the real scoop, then there's somebody that knows everything."

"Oh yeah? Who?"

"That damn monkey," Jake said. "He sits up at the top of that cave and hears everything they said. But as soon as I mosey on over there, they all clam up. I must be losing it because my tall tales don't work with the guys, and my sweet talk sure ain't winning over the ladies."

"But you're in it for the long run, right Jake?"

"I'm in it until the fat lady sings. But I think I hear her warmin' up. Now maybe if you guys gave me a challenge I could win, like a canoe race for example, then I can win it all."

I got up and crossed past the fire pit. I came across Jan and Helen, and they were, of course, cleaning up the cave and cooking food, respectively. They both acknowledged me pretty matter-of-factly, as if the host visited camp all the time.

Jan greeted me with that inimitable Southern drawl of hers, like she was full of moonshine on a humid summer night, "Hiyah Jeff. You bring me some beer?"

"No Jan."

"Yah wanna see mah pet cemetary?"

"No Jan."

"What's it going to take for you to win, Jan?"

"Will there be a beer challenge?"

"No Jan, but if you win it all, you can buy all the beer you want!"

"Then I'm going to win it all and buy mahself a beer pub!" Jan gushed.

"You go, girl." I quickly moved on to Helen. Jan resumed her sweeping.

Helen spoke to me in a low, confidential tone, glancing over at Jan as she talked, "If I had a pistol, I'd shoot her first and me second. That's why I don't carry a gun."

"Well, that's good of you. Anyway, I came over to--"

"Talk about recipes. I've got this great one for butterscotch squares. You take the scotch--"

"Helen--"

"--and you mix in two parts of butter--"

"Helen!"

"--then you fold in the egg whites--"

"HELEN!"

"Oh, I'm sorry Jeff. You probably want to try the lemon squares."

"No," I said. "I'm trying to find Magilla the monkey."

"Well, ask Ted. He actually talks to the monkey. I guess that's better than spanking it."

"Were's Ted?"

"Playing golf with the other guys on the beach."

"Thanks Helen," I said.

"You sure you don't want my recipe for Baked Alaska?"

"Listen Helen, if you win this whole thing, you should think about writing a cook book. It would be huge." I saw a light go off in her head.

"All I have to do is win it all?"

"That's the ticket," I said.

"Then I am going to win it all!" Helen said. "And then I'll write a cook book. Now how about a recipe for--"

But before she could start up again, I was already heading down to the beach.

I came across Ted, doing yoga by himself.

"Ashanti! Auuuuum!" Ted said, in lotus position. "How are you Jeff?"

"Fine. You?"

"I'm still pissed," Ted began, stretching one way, "about getting the three votes."

"It's part of the game, everyone gets votes at one time or another."

"I don't like to lose, and someone is trying to beat me," Ted replied, stretching the other way.

"It's called a game. You have opponents. They try to beat you."

"No one beats me. I'm the winner."

"So, you're the winner?"

Ted breathed out and flexed his biceps. "Yes, Jeff, I will win it all. Because I hate to lose."

"Well, anyway, I came looking for Magilla. I understand you talk to him all the time."

"Who told you I talk to Magilla?" Ted asked.

"I can't really say at this time."

Ted rolled his eyes at me. "Well then, I don't know where he is. Ask Clay or Brian."

I was beginning to think I'd never find that monkey. Then I came up to Clay.

He was off to the side of the makeshift par-3 course, watching Brian line up a putt. "How you doing Clay?"

"I'm playing golf. The King and I. Well, Brian calls it golf, but his mouth just overloaded his butt."

"What does that mean?"

"It means he's talking sh*t! And -- whooo-eee -- it sure does stink!" Clay said.

"Sounds like fighting words," I said. "And it looks like he's winning the golf game."

"It don't matter. I might lose the golf game, but I'm gonna win Survivor, what they don't know."

"So, Clay," I said, "You're going to win Survivor?"

"They got a diamond in the rough is what they don't know," Clay said. "And this diamond is going to win it all!"

Clay started walking away from the golf game. So I went over to watch Brian sink the winning putt.

He stroked and the ball bounced across the sand and landed softly in the middle of the makeshift hole. Dead, solid, perfect. Brian had won. He pumped his fist like Tiger Woods.

"I win!"

"Nice putt. But Clay's already left."

"Well you know, it's good to be the King. Clay couldn't stand watching me beat him again."

"The King goes for the kill."

"I move very sharklike," Brian said.

"So Brian, everyone tells me you know where Magilla is."

"Who?"

"The monkey?"

"Clay?"

"No, the monkey that raided your camp. The one that Ted talks to."

"Oh yeah, that monkey," Brian said. "Well, I'll let you in on a little secret. That's my monkey. My own little rally monkey. I trained it do to things like untie boats and steal food. All to make the other people look bad."

"Clever. How'd you train him."

"Jeff, one thing I learned from the high-line world of used car sales is everyone has their price. Even a monkey."

"And now that monkey's going to help you win it all."

"Jeff," Brian smirked, "This is a business trip. And I'm here to take home my million dollar check. Then me and my wife are going on vacation to Fiji."

"So you have it all worked out, you're the winner of Survivor?" I asked.

"I am the winner," said Brain. "I am the King. The ruler. All of the others will be waiting like lost sheep to give me the money."

But before I could ask him another question, I had run out of time. But at least I had gotten this re-cap monkey off my back.

And just like that, my fifteen Probstovich minutes were over, and I was headed home until next week. Who will be voted out next, just so I can rag on them before they leave for good?

UP NEXT: 5 L'il Survivors

Copyright © 2002 Lawrence Green