The Adventures of Scott McCloud, Prologue

The sun was setting among the crops of the McCloud farm. The corn was harvesting into a golden-aura from the ultra-violet rays, creating a glow as beautiful as a Christmas tree. Rodney did a very good job this year, and who knows what the next year will bring upon the table.

The McClouds were around an thick, oak table, with delicious, home-grown food upon it. Steaming mashed potatoes, mouth-watering roast beef, ice-cold lemonade and some corn-on-the-cob. It all looked so delicious. This feast wasn't like their other dinners back then. This was dedicated to the return of the third-born son, Scott. He was sent away for the summer to compete in the new hit reality show, Total Drama All-Stars.

He made it pretty far in his debut, Revenge of the Island, but due to his elimination, the infamous shark (Fang) took a pleasuring disliking to him. He was severly injured to the point of death, when Cameron won that year. Thanks to Cameron, Scott lived to compete in the new season, in which the finale aired two weeks ago. Now the host told them that Scott would be coming home.

"Gee, I hope Scott won the million." The eldest, an carrot-haired, large boy, said. "Or at least a girlfriend." He sighed to his own compliment. "I sure wish I'd have a girlfriend."

"I'm pretty sure he did well, Rod." A teen girl, wearing a colorful shirt and bandana, with brown dreadlocks, reassured him. "After all, this evening is about peace and tranquility. I'm pretty sure Scott maybe have some interesting things to talk about."

"Laurie, you know Scott doesn't like to talk about his personal life." Mr. McCloud pointed out to his niece. He had orange hair, as do his other sons, but he was the only one to have a shaved beard. He was the leader of the McCloud clan, and he was about the kindest soul on the farm (except for Rodney).

"Uggh!" A young orange-headed child sneered. "When is he arriving? I wanna eat!"

"Now let's not be greedy." Mr. McCloud pointed out. "Your mother said she had to work late, so she wanted me to congratulate Scott for her. We are waiting for your brother to eat, got it?"

"Yes, sir." The McClouds chimed together, when a knock came from the front door.

*KNOCK KNOCK!*

The door opened to reveal a carrot-colored teenager, with freckles and was holding a fairly-used satchel. He was wearing his trademarked muscle shirt and denim-blue jeans. the other McClouds quickly became excited as they saw their brother/son enter their house for the first time since the beginning of the summer.

"SCOTT!!" Everyone cheered, as they approached Scott and gave him a group hug. Scott, however, wasn't excited or even happy. He actually looked depressed.

"Hey, guys." He moped. He then took his plate of food, and started to head into his room. The others were puzzled. All was quiet until Laurie broke the silence.

"I'm guessing he lost?"

Scott laid across his bedspread as he thought to himself. He wanted to be happy. Happy to see his family since June. But... he wasn't. Was it because he lost? Or is it that he hadn't achieved anything memorable. All he ever achieved was almost being killed by a mutant shark.

He can still remember that night.

Scott was sitting in his wheelchair, as he was inside the Hurl-of-Shame. He was covered head to toe with bandages, caused by today's challenge. Chef Hatchet was beside the gigantic catapult, grinning evilly.

"Finally," he said. "I always wanted to be the Hurl Master around here!"

"And you're gonna keep waiting." A voice chimed in, with a sound on an engine. It was Chris McLean, the host of the show. "You see, Scott, the Hurl-of-Shame is both shameful and painful! So, I've arranged a friend for you to share your journey home." He snapped his fingers, and a anthropomorphic shark with a huge grin jumped inside. He reached into Scott's casts and pulled a sharp tooth, and placed it in his gap.

"I really hope this teaches you a lesson, Scott..." Chris then glared at Scott. "...for flinging me in a pit of poo!" He then, pulled the lever and both Scott and Fang went flying into the midnight air. All he can remember from that point was Fang and a lot of pain!"

The flashback was interrupted by knocking on his bedroom door. Depressed, Scott yelled at the knocker.

"Go away!" mumbled Scott. The door opened anyway, to reveal that Scott's father was the knocker.

"You okay, boy?" He asked in a soothing voice.

"Sorry, Pappy." replied the teen. "I guess I'm just a little bummed, that's all."

"About the show?"

"I could care less about that stupid show. I'm bummed because..." He tried to say the next few words, but he couldn't. "Forget it."

"C'mon, Scott." His dad nudged his elbow. "Somethin' must be botherin' ya."

"*sigh* I'm bummed because... I haven't achieved anything memorable!" Scott felt more depressed and upset when he said that. However, Mr. McCloud was confused.

"But you did. You appeared on two reality shows and made the Final Five both times."

"But that's it, Pappy! They'll all remember me as a villain! I don't want to be remembered as a villain! I want to be remembered by being me! You get me?"

"Ahh, now I understand. You no longer want to be known as the Bad Guy, and want to contribute your mind to the Earth."

"Yes, exactly!" Scott grinned at his father. "That's exactly it, minus all the baby-sounding nonsense."

"Well, if you'd like," Mr. McCloud handed him the newspaper from today. "Maybe this might be your answer." There was a purple and gold sheet inside, with a picture of a winged "S," with the words saying below.

Scott scratched his head when he finished reading the flyer. Then, he turned to his pop.

"Me? Go to an academy?" He finally asked.

"Of course! You can achieve a diploma and possibly use it to get a bright future. Then, as far as I know, the world will be your oyster." Scott thought for a minute, as he let his father's words soak in.

"That's true, but how on Earth am I going to get a thousand bucks?"

"You remember Revenge of the Island?" His father asked, with a grin.

"Yeah, why would I want to... OH!!" Scott quickly reached under his bed and pulled out a glass jar full of money. It was the leftover money he had from the Fang incident a year ago. The operation was eighty thousand dollars, but the jar still had about three thousand left.

"Purpose, here I come!" Scott grins at his own reflection in the jar.