Season 20, Episode 9 “Shawn of the Bed”
“Shawn of the Bed”
As rain clouds loomed overhead, my eyes darted from the worn trail by the rock to the bank of overgrown ferns where the show’s muddy tractor trailers had parked. Then I finally found what I’d prayed to see… Giant toy rocket launchers with neon foam artillery lay by the art department’s pop-up tent.
We’d descend the rock face in pairs, ringing ten staggered bells along the way.
Meanwhile, the rest of the cast would fire the foam projectiles from below to impede us.
“The five slowest times are up for elimination, but if you miss a bell, you’re automatically in the Trial,” Ecklund said.
“Melange, because of your medical issues, you—”
“Head straight to the Trial?” she supplied.
He nodded. “But! You’ll determine who’s there with you if you’re a good shot.”
“Well, you’re about to see my talent from the Miss Texarkana Belle pageant in action.”
“And as our last Tribulation winner, you’ll determine the order everyone goes in too!”
Melange beckoned me, Imogen, PB, and Erika over as she began writing her list for Zara. “Obviously Barnes goes first so I can serve him a heaping helping of the Dick Cheney special.”
“Put me with Barnes,” PB said. “That way I’ll guarantee my time is slower.”
“Never thought I’d see you hell-bent on taking one for the team,” Imogen sighed.
Since no one else knew about his contract, PB had told the girls his intention was to atone for his shenanigans in China, but I still understood Imogen’s reservations.
He put an arm around my shoulder as he kept talking.
The week before, I’d have shook him off instantly, but given the circumstances, I needed him. At least for now.
We paired Erika with Fortune next, only to realize where this math left us. I was grateful Imogen volunteered to go with Shawn, even if it meant I’d be paired with Greta.
“And I’m sorry, but I can’t fire on Shawn,” Melange said. “He screwed up royally, but he was a good partner to me. I can’t kick the puppy.”
“I get it,” I said, glancing to where Shawn sat hunched in a folding chair by craft services. His hoodie was pulled up, bare knees shivering in the crisp air, more specter than man.
Once we began, Melange’s aim proved peerless, even with the rain wafting intermittently through the forest. She shot Barnes twice in rapid succession, hitting him so precisely she even damaged his mic, Troy soon announced.
After Barnes then missed the fifth bell and was DQ’ed, PB made good on his word and “forgot” to ring the last one.
Erika and Fortune both managed to complete the task before Shawn half-heartedly descended alongside Imogen, though the slippery terrain tripped him up. At one point, he collided into the rock, and it escaped before I could censor myself: “Careful!”
Despite his vacancy, Shawn completed the Tribulation, even if he was way behind Imogen. I knew his time would likely land him in the Trial, but it wasn’t my job to defend him anymore. Honestly, the sooner he was gone, the simpler this would become.
When my turn arrived, I stood on the promontory with Greta, Zara, and the stunt team. I peered down the rock face as I got in position, praying it wouldn’t trigger an encore panic attack like at the hotel in Shanghai.
My boot soles slid on the rock as soon as I rappelled over the side. I quickly identified a patch of moss and leapt to take advantage of the friction, steadying myself to smack the first bell.
To my right, an orange blur sailed into Greta’s back, a valentine from Melange. “I quit! Bring me up!” Greta instantly capitulated, still no fan of heights. Zara called to her in vain, but Greta was freaking out too much to properly hear that this was a one-way trip.
“Greta!” I shouted, trying not to detain myself. “They can’t pull you up. You can only rappel down, see?” I demonstrated on my rope for her, and she grudgingly followed suit, conceding a defeated smile as she passed me on her way down, already DQ’ed.
I continued with the bells, though they got trickier to reach each time.
Right as I approached the final one, I heard a piercing screech below.
I glanced between my legs to see Greta had landed clumsily in the mud, but the fall hadn’t prompted her exclamation.
She was scurrying from Shawn, who raged at her, words indistinguishable.
And then it started. I gasped as he pitched handfuls of soupy mud at her. I released my carabiner, dropping rapidly, Shawn’s ragged cries growing more distinct as I sank: “… set me up? You put those videos on his phone yourself!? You were supposed to be my best friend!”
An hour later, Erika recounted the whole awful saga in the van.
While Greta and I descended, Shawn had overheard Troy on a network call, relaying how the machinations Greta disclosed to me might affect storylines on Beverly Blonde—which is how Shawn learned the woman he’d once trusted so genuinely had orchestrated every recent calamity in his life.
Of course, that’s not what viewers ultimately see in the episode.
A furious Shawn bolts past Fortune to inexplicably confront Greta the instant she touches ground, prompting PB to wrestle him away.
Greta escapes through the mud on all fours as Imogen and Erika rush to her, Melange hobbling behind, orange rocket launcher still farcically in hand.
Shawn howls about betrayal (certain details adeptly excised from the final sound mix), and Barnes seamlessly joins PB in dragging him off.
I then plummet gracelessly into frame right as Shawn rounds on Barnes, releasing the single, solitary punch that lands squarely across his jaw.