(Ryan walks into the confessional room wearing tan pants and an olive-coloured long-sleeve t-shirt that has a picture of a squirrel with a thought bubble above its head that has two acorns in it. The caption beneath the squirrel reads “Nuts!” He spins the chair around and sits on it backwards, leaning forward into the camera.)

Hi. How goes? You should have known I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight.

Actually… you probably did, ergo this room. Hmm.

Well, I absolutely had to avail myself of the opportunity to explain why I’m taking off for Okinawa in six hours. Who knows… they might even air a part of this little discourse. If they do, it would serve to explain to some of you why I suddenly became so interested in my familial background that I would “go to Ukraine” for two months on an exchange when “I could lose my job.”

Although… I guess I could lose my job. Oh well. Such is life.

Firstly, I’m in this because my major at the U of M was Psychology and part of me never left the lecture hall. I was as intrigued by the study of human behaviour as I was obsessed with abusing its intent. I’ve studied everything from Eysenck’s personality trait theories to good ol’ Freud in an effort to understand the minds of others, mostly so I could screw with them. I’m kind of evil that way. (shrugs) Oops.

By the way, anyone back home who was surprised to hear that last bit, well… you were probably one of my test subjects. Sorry ‘bout that, eh?

(Ryan gets up again, spins the chair back around and sits facing the camera, hunched forward, clasping his hands together and staring intensely into the camera.)

So now I get to abuse Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and watch people break as they are pitched back down to the base level of his pyramid. God, that’s exciting. I’d do this just as an observer if it wasn’t for my competitive side, which brings me to my other point… my modus operundi, so to speak.

I’m tired of watching people play hide & seek with themselves over the course of 39 days. Anyone playing under the radar is fair game at the next Tribal Council. I can’t stand to let someone lapse into effortlessness. I fully intend to stir the pot lest its waters smooth themselves. There shall be ripples at all times and I fully intend to ride said tides to victory. Yes, it is high risk, high reward, but it’s the only way I know. Wish me luck.

(Ryan starts to stand, but a grin spreads across his face and he sits back down and leans back in the chair.)

Oh, one last thing…

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for they will be useless in challenges.
Blessed are they who mourn, for they know they are going home next.
Blessed are the meek, for they will be too timid to prevent their downfall.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst, for they shall become frail and easy to beat.
Blessed are the merciful, for their votes are predictable.
Blessed are the pure of heart, for they are generally stupid and indecisive.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they are going to make targets of themselves.
Blessed are you when I insult you and persecute you and utter ever kind of evil word against you falsely because it gets me further in the game. Rejoice and be glad, for the food is good in Loser’s Lodge.

I call it the “Survivor Beatitudes.” My full apologies go out to the original author, Saint whoever.

(Ryan stands up and winks as the camera as he walks out.)

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