“Bachelor In Paradise” Meets “The Most Dangerous Game”

A retelling of the classic short story about a general who hunts humans on his island, set in the year 2016 on the reality show “Bachelor In Paradise.”

“WHO’S THAT?” said Evan.

The others stopped talking and cast their eyes toward the densely wooded stone staircase. The first thing they saw through the shrubbery was a pair of knee-high leather hunting boots, crunching deliberately down the steps to Paradise. Soon a tall, slender figure emerged from the darkness.

“Great, just what we need — another dude,” said Nick, knowing that the girls had control of the roses this week.

The man was older, but looked distinguished and singularly handsome. He wore a military jacket, and his dark, deep-set eyes were framed by high cheekbones, a thick black mustache, and a shock of white hair, upon which sat a khaki pith helmet. He was none other than General Zaroff, the world-renowned big game hunter.

“I don’t recognize him,” said Emily, one of the twins.

“He must be from Desiree’s season.”

Zaroff now stood erect at the foot of the staircase. He cleared his throat and began to speak. He had a slight, unplaceable accent, but with his crisp enunciation, every word rang clear.

“It is with great pleasure that I welcome you here to my island,” Zaroff said.

“Uh, bro, I’m actually pretty sure this is Chris Harrison’s island?” interrupted Daniel, who was doing triceps dips on a nearby rock.

Zaroff laughed cheerfully. “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is General Zaroff. I was born in Russia, but have spent my life traveling the globe in search of my next quarry. The grizzlies of the Rocky Mountains. The crocodiles of the Ganges River. The elusive white rhinoceros of South Africa. But alas, I have yet to meet my match. I am sad to say, I had grown bored of hunting — my one true passion in life. I needed to find a more formidable foe, a creature that relies not on instinct alone, but on cunning and reason. Which is why I’ve brought you all here to my island preserve.”

“Is that… Is that what your date card says?” Jared asked, glancing around at the others.

Zaroff again chuckled good-naturedly. “There seems to be a misunderstanding,” he told them. “There is no date card. We shall have some capital hunting, you and I.”

A hush fell over the group. Paradise was completely silent, save for the sound of Josh moaning while he and Amanda made out on a nearby couch.

“Whose season are you from?” asked Sara, breaking the silence.

The guys at the bar — Nick, Vinny, Jared, Grant, and Evan — now stood, sensing that something was amiss. They feared that this general had not been a part of the recent Bachelor shows, and was either from a much earlier season, or even worse, was an ex-boyfriend of one of the contestants, brought here to stir up drama.

“I am not from any season,” Zaroff replied curtly.

Daniel slowly approached Zaroff, his posture ramrod straight and his chest puffed out like a proud Canadian peacock.

“Bro, no offense, but I don’t think you’re allowed to be here if you weren’t on the Bachelor,” said Daniel, shirtlessly.

“On the contrary, Daniel,” the general replied, his red lips curling into a thin smile. “This is my island. Therefore, I make the rules. And besides, remember last season, Ashley I.’s sister came on the show? So you see, my dear fellow, there is precedent.”

Daniel glanced around, confused and hungry.

Suddenly, the familiar three dings of knife on champagne flute filled the air, as Chris Harrison meandered down the stairway and took his place next to the general.

“Gentleman. Ladies. I have good news and bad news,” Harrison said. “The bad news is, in lieu of a rose ceremony tonight, you will all be hunted for sport.”

At this, a smattering of disappointed “aw’s” capped by a sigh of relief from Evan, who found his chances of outwitting a master huntsman in the Mexican jungle slightly better than his chances of connecting with a woman.

“The good news?” Harrison continued. “Those of you who successfully elude the general for three days, will automatically receive a rose, and will be spending another week here in Paradise.”

This news elicited a hearty cheer from the guys, along with some murmurs of dissent among the women, who felt this twist was particularly unfair, since they had control of the roses this week, and were thus already safe.

“With that, I’ll leave you all here with General Z.,” said Harrison. “I’m sure you have a lot to discuss.” Harrison then ascended the stairway and retired to his private mansion, where he slipped on a robe, poured himself a mimosa, and stared at a wall for 14 straight hours.

Immediately there was chatter amongst the group. The girls huddled and chirped quietly about the general.

“He’s kinda hot,” said Carly, leaning excitedly against Sara as she peered over at Zaroff. “I… could be into this.”

The men, however, saw the general as a threat.

“I just feel like he’s not here for the right reasons,” said Evan, who noticed Carly making eyes at the newcomer. “We’re all here to find love. And I feel like he’s here to, like, murder us all or something.”

“He’s almost as bad as Chad,” Nick added.

The group quieted as the general spoke again.

“Well then,” Zaroff said as he poured himself a glass of red wine from a carafe. “I suggest you all get started. In a show of good sportsmanship, I shall not follow until dusk.”

Nobody moved.

“Come now,” Zaroff said. “Sundown is at quarter past 8. You won’t want to waste any more time. After all, you’re supposed to be the most dangerous game.”

“I thought the most dangerous game was Jenga, eh? Cuz like, what if it falls?” replied Daniel.

“No, no,” Zaroff said. “‘Game,’ as in ‘big game.’ As in prey, or quarry.”

He looked out among the group, who stared blankly back. Jared audibly blinked twice.

“Ugh,” said Zaroff. “Hide or I will kill you.”

Daniel scampered off directly into the ocean, where he turned into a dolphin and swam away. A few others slowly scattered, unsure if this was a real threat, or part of an elaborate group date. Carly, however, approached the general directly.

“Can I steal you for a second?” Carly said, grabbing Zaroff by the arm and leading him toward the tree house.

“So like, full disclosure, Evan and I went on a date, but it was weird and gross and we kissed and I threw up, and he almost died, but it was like, nothing,” said Carly.

The general was perplexed at her rambling, but assumed it was a diversionary tactic that only a human being with reason and intellect could muster — a tactic he had not come across in his pursuance of Bengal tigers or Cape buffalo.

“Anyway, I was like ready to just leave Paradise, and then you showed up, and I’m like, ‘FINALLY, a real man,’” said Carly. “Ugh. I’m sorry, I’m just, like, SMILING. You know? For the first time in Paradise, I’m smiling.”

At this very moment, out of the brush appeared Evan. The general always made it a point to thoroughly study his quarry, and made a mental note that Evan resembled the member of a boy band who’s clearly way too old so they sort of just hide him in the back and hope no one notices.

“Hey, can I…steal you?” Evan asked the general, who furrowed his brow in consternation.

“What is the meaning of this?” Zaroff said, standing up and straightening his jacket. “Why are you not all running and hiding, doubling your tracks, setting pit-traps, waiting catlike in the treetops, ready to pounce on me from above and slit my throat?”

“Look, I’m Carly’s protector,” Evan said.

“He’s not,” Carly mumbled to Zaroff.

“And as her protector, I feel like I have to step in, and say, like, I don’t think you’re here for the right reasons,” Evan continued. “We’re all here for a new lease on love. And it’s not fair for you to just waltz in here and ruin that for some of us.”

Zaroff laughed pleasantly, then drew a small automatic pistol from his hip and fired, producing a single gunshot wound in the middle of Evan’s forehead. Evan dropped to the ground, dead.

“I’ve, like, never been more turned on,” said Carly. The general turned and fired again, hitting Carly squarely between whatever’s going on with that whole eyebrow sitch.

Over by the hot tubs, Vinny, Grant, Lace, and Izzy turned to each other in concern.

“Whoa, what was that?” said Vinny.

“Sounded like gunshots,” said Grant.

“You guys, do you think that guy was serious when he like said he was gonna like hunt us down and like kill us or whatever?” said Lace.

“Who am I?” said Izzy.

Moments later, they spotted the general walking back toward them. He was holding a gun in one hand, and Evan’s severed head in the other.

“Perhaps I did not make myself clear,” Zaroff said with a genial smile.

But before he could continue, Jared told the others “I’m gonna go over and talk to him,” and walked toward the general with a hand extended in an attempt to make peace.

“Hey man, I think we got off on the wrong foot,” Jared said. “So let’s just, like, start over. Hi. I’m Jared.”

“The time for pleasantries is over, I’m afraid,” Zaroff responded. “It is time now to hunt.”

“Look,” Jared said quietly, as if offering the general a secret tip, “I think you’re a good guy. I do. I just think people would like you more if you weren’t going around murdering people.”

“Ah, there’s that regrettable word,” Zaroff said. “You see, Jared, it is not murder. It is sport. Your wits against mine. Your daring, your resourcefulness, versus mine.”

The general smiled. “Of course, I am a fair man. You need not play my game if you don’t wish to. I will give you an option. If you prefer not to hunt, the alternative is to spend 15 minutes alone with my…associate,” Zaroff said, gesturing to a cage that his men were wheeling in. Inside the cage was Ashley I.

“Hiiiii, Jared,” said Ashley.

Jared grabbed the gun from Zaroff’s hand and blew his own brains out.

“Invariably,” the general chuckled to himself, “invariably they all choose the hunt.”

“Now then,” said Zaroff, turning to the rest of the group. “The hunt begins.” He fired his pistol into the air, and the others dashed away, Lace quickly returning to grab three bottles of white wine before fleeing once more into the jungle.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the general sat patiently at the bar, sipping on a red wine, periodically checking his silver pocket watch, and drolly recounting his best hunting stories to Jorge the bartender. Jorge listened politely as Zaroff explained in great detail his methods for tracking wild boar in the Philippines.

“They are a slippery beast, the boar. Not to be trusted,” Zaroff told Jorge. “Kind of like that Samantha woman from last season.”

Zaroff glanced at his pocket watch once more, and, deeming his head start more than sufficient, set down his glass and bid Jorge adieu with a friendly hug.

The general stalked slowly through the woods, taking note of any footprints, bent twigs, or trampled patches of grass. Suddenly, his ears perked up. He heard a faint moaning sound in the distance. The general knew that Josh was nearby, either making out with Amanda or eating pizza alone.

“I’m getting close,” Zaroff said quietly to himself, though it was later edited to make it look like he was talking to a cockatoo.

Soon, however, the moaning stopped. There was a moment of eerie silence, followed by the sound of leaves being crushed underfoot, and an ominous whistling. The whistle, following the same short melodic pattern each time, grew closer and closer, until a Sasquatch-like figure appeared in the clearing. It was Chad.

“Who the hell are you?” Chad said, stopping in his tracks.

“I am General Zaroff,” he replied, taken slightly aback, as he did not expect to find Chad roaming the forest. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Chad.”

“How the hell do you know my name?” said Chad, taking a slice of rolled-up deli meat out of his pants pocket and eating it.

“I thought you were eliminated,” Zaroff said. “What are you doing here in the woods?”

“I live here now,” Chad said. “I got kicked off, so I came here, and now I live here.”

Chad chewed thoughtfully as he examined the general.

“Your helmet’s too big,” Chad said, cocking an eyebrow. The general self-consciously removed his pith helmet, fumbling with it slightly, but quickly regained his composure.

“You are truly my most prized quarry, my dear fellow,” Zaroff said with a grin.

“Whatever you say, Grandpa-From-Jurassic-Park,” said Chad, again preying on the general’s deepest insecurities and cutting him to his very core. “What are you, like, 60?”

Chad then bit into a pumpkin as though it were an apple. “You think you’re all big cuz you, like, what, shot a tiger?”

The general smiled a curious red-lipped smile.

“If you don’t stop smiling at me,” Chad said, “I will have to physically harm you.”

At that moment, there was a rustling nearby and the rest of the group gathered, one by one, behind Chad.

“You tried to scare us into splitting up,” said Nick. “But we stayed together. And you can’t stop all of us.”

The general scoffed and reached for his pistol, but to his surprise, nothing was there. He looked up toward the group with widened eyes, just as a gunshot rang out in the dark. Zaroff dropped to his knees, revealing a small silhouetted figure behind him. The figure stepped out of the shadows, holding a smoking pistol in his right hand. It was Jorge.

“…But how?” asked the general, blood spilling from his mouth.

“Easy, Mr. Z,” Jorge explained. “After plying you with glass after glass of wine, I pocketed your gun during our farewell hug. I then texted Chad and ordered him to do his trademark whistle, both throwing you off course and creating a perfect diversion. Meanwhile, I used your patented boar-hunting technique, which you so freely offered me, to track your path into the woods.”

“Bravo, Jorge,” Zaroff said weakly. “I have finally met my match…”

“Now,” Jorge said to the group, “who wants some margaritas?!?”

“Ooh, I do!” said Lace, taking a swig of wine straight from the bottle like she was JoJo’s mom.

They all cheered and followed Jorge back to the bar for an evening of food, drink, and revelry.

General Zaroff, however, took a somber limousine ride back to his island estate.

“It just…sucks,” Zaroff said, dressing his gunshot wound with a roll of gauze. “Especially cuz, like, I came here specifically for Leah, and she was already gone. So it’s like, what was I even here for?”

“I guess I learned that the most dangerous game,” the general added, choking back tears, “is the game of love.”