Wears Woldo

The contestants were told to gather in the garden behind the house while the judges made their evaluations, and obediently walked outside to await their fates, which wouldn't come too late, following the judges debates over a Speights.
'Garden' was a misleading term, as Desmond's outside-zone seemed more like the set of some horror film set in the mind of a kleptomaniacal maniac. However, Trixie paid little attention to the rusting cars and various dubious miscellanities. She was too busy trying to subtly approach nobody in particular without revealing the woldo she had tried to conceal down her pant-leg. The length of the woldo made this quite a challenge, and no matter how innocent Trixie tried to look, her awkward wobbling walk made it abundantly clear that she was hiding something.

Nobody in particular looked up at Trixie as she approached.
Trixie stopped wobbling, and tried to smile a disarming smile.
Nobody in particular was unarmed to begin with, so the smile had no effect.
“Uh.. hi again,” Trixie said, adding “buddy” on the end of her sentence in a desperate attempt to seem nonchalent.
Nobody in particular's eyes narrowed.
“Is that a six foot, four inches long handle with a spike on one end and a two foot, eight inches blade with a feather attached by a ring on it at the other end, the whole thing weighing three pounds, 15 ounces, stuffed down your pant leg, or are you just happy to see me?”
Trixie thought for a moment.
“Um... I'm just happy to see you?”
Nobody in particular's eyes remained narrow.
“Because, if that is a six foot, four inches long handle with a spike on one end and a two foot, eight inches blade with a feather attached by a ring on it at the other end, the whole thing weighing three pounds, 15 ounces, stuffed down your pant leg, then I would think twice about trying to use it on me.”
Trixie thought for a moment longer.
“Nope... I'm just happy to see you.”
The narrowed eyes bored into Trixie like a near-sighted boar.
Trixie had been trained to withstand torture and all interrogation techniques, but under the gaze of nobody in particular she felt herself starting to squirm inside.
It was like nobody in particular could see into her heart, and somehow interpret the blood pumping through it into thought processes, which must have gotten lost journeying from the brain to the arms, and read them as evidence of the plan which her brain had been attempting to pass on, namely: hit nobody in particular with the woldo.
It wasn't the most elegant of plans, but Trixie had liked it right up until this point.
Now she was unsure that it would be successful.

However, she was distracted for the moment by the return of the judges, who were accompanied by the surprise guest judge for the round, none other than Desmond the Disgusting himself, who had returned from tour temporarily in order to see what havoc had been reeked upon the reeking havoc of his house.
Like so many of the contestants on Extreme Makeover: Home Edition, Desmond seemed to be putting on a brave face, and pretending to the cameras that he really enjoyed what had gone on in his abode, when in fact he was wondering what the upkeep costs would be, and feeling unsure how much he would really use an indoor rollercoaster.

“Congratulations, contestants,” the lead Evans smiled, “You have all done extremely well in this challenge. You have made well-build, tidy, and cost effective improvements to this house, and made it a place that almost anyone would be happy to call home. The Goblin in particular has done a better job at renovations than I have ever seen on any show ever in the history of everything.”
The five remaining tributes smiled at each other, proud of what they had achieved, and the Goblin allowed himself a less-emotionless-than-usual smile.
“However,” the Evans frowned, “This house belongs to Desmond the disgusting, and I'm afraid to say that his idea of improvements are quite different to the general populous. As a result, and because his prized mold and dirt collection was destroyed, the contestant going home today is... the Goblin.”

There was utter shock and dismay from every contestant, but it was too late.
The Goblin vanished, and the contestants returned to the Tribal Circle, leaving Desmond to try and re-putrify his house before the tour recommenced.

Trixie waddled along with the others, still trying to ignore the woldo cutting into her leg, and pondering what to do now. The Goblin had been one of the major threats in the competition, but without it still being around, she could expect no more innovative weapons to aid her.
And only Taylor and Pam remained to help her defeat nobody in particular.
The stakes had never been higher, and Trixie, like a midget butcher, almost felt they were too high to reach.
However, as long as she was still in the competition, she still had a chance to defeat nobody in particular. She just had to make sure it was soon.

They entered the Tribal Circle.
Now that there was only four contestants left, the Circle had been reduced in size considerably. The blue flicking fire now had four plastic chairs sitting near it, and it was on to these that Trixie, Pam, Taylor, and nobody in particular sat to learn their next challenge.

“And then there were four,” a new Evans said, smiling in what appeared to be a bad imitation of Tyra Banks on ANTM.
“You have all done exceptionally well to get this far, but to go further in this competition, you're going to need to be fierce! You've got to want it! And you have to let your inner beauty shine out! Your next challenge...” Tyra/Evans said dramatically, “Is a photo shoot.”

Chapter Eighteen *** Chapter Twenty