We’ve seen WAM in all kinds of media – art, animation, television (no shit!), movies, sequential art, music videos and even pornography. So, it’s got me pondering what the ultimate WAM videogame would be like.

Here are a few games which come to mind for me as potential inspiration. The first is Above Average Guy, a flash game which pits you against your will in a Japanese gameshow. I’ve not finished it, but there were no messy elements in it. However, the “plot” sounds a lot like more than a fair few WAM stories nevertheless.

Another one which comes to mind is the 2013 Tomb Raider reboot. In it, there’s a scene where Lara escapes capture by diving into a chest-high pool of blood. Two things came to mind when I first saw it. First of all, eww. Second, the way the blood sticks to her for a while after (and the way Lara’s appearance as a whole gets rougher throughout the game) is pretty fantastic. I’d imagine similar technology or whatever could be used in a more… pleasant setting.

On a much lighter note, I think Nintendo have a fair few games where one could get inspiration. I’ve been playing Mario Kart 8 a lot lately, and it features underwater sections (and on one track, an underhoney section) as well as an item that summons a squid to shoot ink at your opponents to impede their vision. Here’s a video of the aptly named Sweet Sweet Mountain track. Nintendo also recently announced a game called Splatoon. Basically, it’s a game where you and three other people battle four other people to cover a map in your team’s colour of goo. The trailer’s here.

The only thing I think we’re really missing is the idea of using mess as a forfeit/punishment. I’m not as into that as some of the others here, but I don’t think the perfect messy videogame would be complete without it. However, the setting of AAG (some kind of bizarre game show) with the light-hearted kookiness of MK8 or Splatoon and mess delivery of Tomb Raider could be a good starting point. So, now I need to flesh it out a bit.

So, this gameshow would have you and one other person working together to complete various minigames, with messy consequences for the losing team. You’d have a selection of characters to choose from with different stats, as well as a character creation option. The characters could also have their own distinct personalities, with a set of archetypes for player created characters (snob, loner, shy, friendly, joker etc.). As for the actual look, I’d go with a fairly realistic look but verging towards the bright and colourful.

Anyone got their own ideas for a messy videogame?

Disclaimer:  This story is purely a work of fiction for personal enjoyment. The story does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence.

In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

Note:  Been a while since I’ve had the time to do one of these, and I’ve been sitting on the concept for a bit.  Another genre exploration, it’s shaping up to be a lengthy one, so I’ll probably split it into a few pieces.  Full disclosure, this portion is a lot of table-setting and barely meets the minimum mess requirements.  But that will change.  So enjoy.

 
#1   Origins

Three police cruisers pulled away as a clump of photographers rushed to snap pictures. Inside the brand-new bank, a janitor was sweeping up crystalline crumbs of reinforced glass.

“Oh Jenny, you missed everything! It was crazy! They were bank robbers!”
Joan Tullamore, chief field reporter for Channel 3 News, paused in the middle of her excited recounting. She glanced at her cameraman, and then back to her friend, who had just reappeared.

“Wait, where’d you go?”

Jenny Wheeling grinned sheepishly.

“Uh, I went and hid… In the bathroom, as soon as the robbers burst in…”

“Typical. Well, you should’ve seen it! The Gray Lady showed up and turned them upside-down, without breaking a sweat. Honestly, I don’t know why anyone would try and rob a bank these days, especially at the grand opening… Seems like just asking to have your butt handed to you. And even so, you still always run off at the first sign of trouble.”
Jenny shrugged and Joan shook her head.

“I’m telling you Jenny, you’ll never get out of the blogs if you don’t show a little more back-bone. Journalists need to have a nose for trouble!”

Jenny smiled at her more ambitious friend and adjusted her glasses, “I’ve got a nose for it alright, I guess I just don’t like the smell.”

Joan rolled her eyes, but patted her friend on the shoulder anyway.

Jenny was a wonderful person, but to say she was “mild-mannered” was a tremendous understatement. Maybe it was the way she dressed; always too casual to be professional, but too bland to be stylish. She had a nice face, hidden behind a pair of gawky glasses, and her reddish-auburn hair was permanently in a ponytail. She was a perfectly serviceable reporter too, serving as a Swiss Army knife for a number of online news outlets. Her photos, video, and copy were all adequate. She had an occasional knack for breaking open huge stories and getting jaw-dropping exclusives, but much more reliable was her knack for somehow missing the action anytime something dramatically news-worthy happened. But Joan was her friend, and even though she was ostensibly the competition, she tried to help Jenny grow in the industry.

“Suit yourself. But at the very least, as a personal favor to me, please at least try to do something about your wardrobe. I swear, I probably wouldn’t recognize you if you weren’t wearing ratty jeans and sneakers.”

Jenny shrugged with a noncommittal grin, causing the reliably glamorous reporter to give a matronly tut-tut.

“Well, anyway, I’ll see you later Jen.”

They exchanged a wave and, while the TV crew packed up, Jenny left the bank.

As she made her way through the city toward her unremarkable third floor apartment, slouching and shuffling along the sidewalk, Jenny Wheeling smiled a private smile. If only Joanie knew just how often she failed to recognize her unassuming friend…

Jenny didn’t think being a super hero was too big of a deal. After all, it was essentially the family business. For centuries, the women on her mother’s side have exhibited extraordinary abilities beyond explanation; family lore said it had something to do with a bit of benevolent extraterrestrial meddling in the inherited gene pool a very long time ago.  Her ancestors generally tried to ‘do good’ with their little genetic heirloom, but it was Jenny’s grandmother, the original Gray Lady, who first put on a costume and took up the life of semi-public heroine. The identity eventually passed to her mother, then to Jenny in turn.

It wasn’t until her twenty-first birthday that Jenny became the full-time Gray Lady, but she had been training for the role since before she was a teenager. Now, nearly six years into her tenure, she really felt like she knew the ropes. Throughout all of downtown, there was no other hero as trusted and renowned as the Gray Lady; maybe only a few others in the entire sprawling metropolitan area.

Letting herself into her building, Jenny climbed the stairs to her floor slowly, measuring her pace carefully. She was always very careful, even in her own building. Because it only takes one foolish slip-up to shatter a secret identity.

Once safe inside her cozy, two-bedroom den of justice, Jenny finally let her guard down. She loosened her affected slouch, standing flagpole straight, and removed the prescription glasses she burdened her exemplary eyes with in the interest of misdirection. Fishing a tightly folded square of papers from her pocket, she examined the note from Detective Carpenter.

The detective, a veteran of the Major Crimes Squad and the decorated head of the Costumed Villainy Task-force, was a loyal friend and ally of the Gray Lady. While the other officers were cleaning up the bank robbery she foiled earlier that afternoon, Detective Carpenter had slipped her the note. It was their usual method of exchanging tips and information discreetly.

This note was an unsigned page, typed up plainly, and a small yellow sticky note bearing a message in the detective’s cramped longhand.

This came into the precinct anonymously. Seems like something you might find interesting. Let us know when it’s time to pick up the pieces and do the paperwork.

The Gray Lady, C/O The Police,
This letter is a warning. The criminal Vivian Pitts, AKA the Violet Viper, has recently been sighted within city limits. We have reliable information that she will attempt to ambush the PNR Security transport tomorrow at 12 PM, when it is in the middle of its route. Take notice, the Violet Viper is no small-time crook, and should only be confronted by an experienced crime fighter.   Respectfully, A concerned citizen

She didn’t know much about the Violet Viper, but the name did ring a bell somewhere in the back of her memory. In spite of herself, Jenny grinned. Don’t take it the wrong way; by no means did she want a crime spree in her beloved city. However, because the city was so well protected, it had become a sort of proving ground, where callow criminals and amateur antagonists came to try and make their bones. Which meant Jenny dealt with a lot of bafflingly brazen would-be bank robbers and one-note, bottom-tier, masked thugs… She popped the joints in her shoulders in unconscious anticipation. Going up against a proper villain would definitely shake up her routine. Much as she might try to deny, the Gray Lady was looking forward to it.

…

#2   Fwoosh!

The next day, at noon on the dot, Jenny was running alongside State Route 3. It was a rarely used stretch of two-lane road which curved around the rural outskirts of town. Pretty much just farmland and trees out there, dotted with the odd utility pole or.  Which was probably why PNR Security liked it for transporting valuables. Jenny was running late.  She, technically the Gray Lady, had stopped on her way out to save a kitten stuck up a tree.  Deeply cliched, but not really the sort of thing she could ignore. And anyway, she would only be a few minutes late.

Actually, she thought, as her superhuman legs sped her effortlessly down the road; the truck ought to be coming up. Just a few miles more, and it would more or less be out of her hands… It’s not like vigilante heroes had jurisdictions or anything, but in multi-hero cities unspoken rules generally governed who protected what and where. And the Gray Lady’s sprawling swath of guardian territory ended somewhere around here. Fortunately, just then, she spied a blocky shape about two miles away.

It was an armored car alright, battleship gray with a red and yellow paint scheme. And it was tipped on its side. She slowed to a jog to close the distance, taking in the crime scene.

The reinforced PNR truck had apparently been ambushed at a sharp bend in the road. The boxy vehicle, overturned and motionless, was in the wide grassy shoulder at the apex of the turn. There were three PNR employees sitting bunched together near the front tires. As she got closer, Jenny could see that two of the men were unconscious. All three had their hands bound with their belts and one who was still awake had his neck tie knotted securely over his mouth. There was a large bruise blooming on his temple, but his eyes were wide and alert. Jenny put a finger over her mouth as she crept up silently. Hopefully the guard would recognize her, or if nothing else, her costume would be enough of a hint.

As the Gray Lady, she wore a full length jumpsuit, with leather boots and gloves, a small domino mask, and belted the whole thing with a trailing sash. Naturally, the jumpsuit was pale gray and everything else a darker shade of the same… What it lacked in color and style, the costume made up for in sturdiness and practicality, and therefore had changed only a few times since her grandmother was the Gray Lady. Admittedly, the current design was cut far more flatteringly, and exponentially more form-fitting, but Jenny did try to maintain the spirit of the outfit. Her red-brown hair billowing freely, she gave the incapacitated security guard a reassuring wink. She could hear, thanks to her heightened senses, someone rummaging around in the back of the tumbled truck.

After a few seconds, a voice came from the car; it was sweet but venomous, and seemed to be directed at the frightened guard.

“Seriously, you guys make a big deal about some pretty piddling swag. I heard PNR hauls all the good stuff, but this is turning out to be an awfully weak haul. Total small potatoes.”

In her most commanding voice, Jenny replied to the unseen criminal.

“Actually, it’s funny you mention potatoes… Because you’re about to get mashed.”

Almost immediately she regretted the line.

A head popped over the edge of the broken transport, quickly followed by a shapely acrobatic body. The woman balanced steadily on the side of the armored car, giving Jenny a skeptical sneer.

“Are you for real? That’s honestly the best you could come up with?”

Although it was just an educated guess, Jenny fairly sure this was the Violet Viper. She was dressed in some kind of taut leotard made of synthetic snake skin in dark purple, with slits along the sides and midriff displaying marble-white skin. Her lithe arms and legs were bare but for a pair of lurid amethyst boots that reached to her thighs. Thick satin-black hair fell straight down her back. She was gorgeous too; with a captivating smile, even when sarcastic, and cheekbones like cut glass. Her eyes were green and hypnotic, currently emphasized with dramatic violet stage make-up. In her left hand she held a bulging cloth sack bearing the PNR Security logo, and in her right, a black bullwhip with a round purple crystal on the pommel.

Jenny shrugged.

“Ok, yeah, that was terrible. But I promise I’m not nearly as weak as my jokes… How about you put down the bag and come quietly?”

The woman on the truck looked like she was about to respond, but then stopped and squinted at something over Jenny’s shoulder. Literally the oldest trick in the book.

“Huh. I’m flattered the infamous Gray Lady called in back-up on my account. Thought I heard you worked solo?”

Jenny was just about to fire off another half-baked retort, when she heard the thrumming whine of a small, powerful engine rushing in from behind. She made a half turn, to see the new arrival without taking her eyes off the snake. A red and black blur, shaped generally like a petite woman, came soaring in at a steep angle. Pulling up at the last second, she stopped, hovering a few feet in the air and forming a triangle with Jenny and the thief.

“Vivian Pitts. Once a promising archaeologist, who turned to a life of crime after accidentally accepting the powers of an ancient Central American snake idol. You became the Violet Viper and have been looting and burgling your way through life ever since. Abilities include enhanced senses, super-human flexibility, and rather nasty skills with a whip.”

The Violet Viper nodded approvingly.

“Sounds about right. I’m impressed.”

Jenny scoffed.

“Don’t be. She’s reading it off that stupid eyepiece. What are you doing here Decker?”

“Same as you, I’d imagine. And I think you know my name is Clout.”

Suzanna Decker, or Clout, was the only other hero in the city who was a match for the Gray Lady, in either ability or popularity. The woman who would become Clout was a successful inventor and entrepreneur by the time she was twenty. A gifted scientist, her business acumen provided her with the resources to perform increasingly complex experiments; until one day when she was twenty-two, a lab accident altered her cellular structure, making her body super resilient and allowing her to go weeks without sleeping.

A philanthropist already, Suzanna Decker decided to take advantage of her accident and, after designing some cutting-edge equipment, became the heroine known Clout. Although Decker Industries was one of the largest companies in the city, Suzanna quickly made an even bigger name for herself through her heroics, using a combination of technical brilliance and brash attitude to combat criminals. She played it fast and loose with her dual identities as well; it was a winking secret that the brazen hero was also the CEO of Decker Industries.

Which was a large part of why Jenny didn’t like her very much. Maybe the woman wasn’t just chasing fame and accolades, but she didn’t shy away from them either. And it certainly wasn’t because Clout cut a more glamorous figure than her own alter-ego; although that was certainly true. Suzanna Decker was a small woman, but very pretty. She had a perfect pixie nose, downy ash blonde hair cropped at neck-length, and twinkling blue eyes as effective in the boardroom as staring down a mugger in a dark alley.

Her current costume, the fifth or sixth version, was designed with visual impact in mind as much as functionality. The base layer was hi-tech black spandex, outfitted with a variety of armored sections. The armored portions were bright red and glinted in the sunlight. The shiny alloy shell, laden with proprietary engineering, encased her chest, included shin-high jet-boots, and covered her right arm from fingers to elbow. The whole setup was connected with thick cybernetic wiring and controlled through a computerized eyepiece, which looked like half a pair of futuristic crimson-tinted sunglasses.

“Fine, Clout. Whatever your name is, you can head back to your lab, or penthouse, or wherever. I’ve got this.”

Suzanna gestured at the Violet Viper with her mechanically augmented arm.

“Yeah ok sure. But why should you get to deal with this one? She’s the first legit super villain we’ve had in ages. I am so tired of busting car thieves.”

“Well for starters, I got here first. Not to mention the fact that you’re in my zone…”

Although it was never put down on paper, it was understood among concerned parties that the Gray Lady patrolled the downtown portion of the city, while Clout handled crime uptown.

“What are you talking about?” Suzanna paused, and her eyes darted back and forth, pulling up information on her built-in computer. Jenny rolled her own eyes impatiently.

“Pssh! Yeah, the boundary is right around here, but you know there’s no exact line! I’ve got as much claim to Snake Chick as you do!”

“Oh come on!  Just because it isn’t on Google Maps doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist! And anyway, you snooze you lose!”

“I was like twelve seconds behind you! I…”

The Violet Viper cracker her whip, clearing her throat in the silence that followed.

“Ahem. So, as much fun as it is listening to you two bicker, I think I’m just going to take off…  Let’s do this again some time!”

Before either of the territorial superheroes could react, the woman standing on the sideways truck suddenly produced a few small pellets; an impressive feat given her skin-tight costume. She threw the pellets down and a thick cloud of lavender smoke erupted.

Suzanna muttered a curse and jetted up above the smokescreen, while Jenny dashed straight through it after the villainess.

Hot on her heels, Jenny could see the purple pilferer just breaking the tree line. That was a problem; the Gray Lady might be faster, but it wouldn’t matter much if they were both winding around tree trunks… Jenny pushed herself harder, and was gaining ground, when a bolt of light slapped into one of the outlying trees, just a few feet away. There was an ozone odor mingling with the smell of pine, and a singed black patch on the nearby tree was lightly smoking. Livid, she spun around and faced Suzanna, who was hovering above the felled security truck, still aiming her gauntlet.

“Are you completely insane!?”

Jenny marched back to the road, where the smoke had nearly cleared. Suzanna pointed at the fleeing thief.

“What gives?  So I missed.  You know she’s getting away right?”

“What’s the big idea? What are you doing blasting away like that?”

Suzanna scoffed.

“Geez. It’s set to stun. I thought the mighty Gray Lady was made of sterner stuff.”

“Ha. Please. You’ve yet to invent anything that could even make me blink! But you are shooting lasers right into the woods… You know how easy it is to start a forest fire? Only takes a spark.”

“It’s hardly a laser…”

“Save it, nerd. And now look, thanks to your itchy trigger finger, the first real villain in months got away. Amateur hour.”

Suzanna bristled. For all her wealth and status, the insult still stung.

“I see. I had no idea you took fire safety so personally.”

“Well, somebody has keep an eye out for the city.”

“No no, you’re right… In fact let me help.”

Jenny had been on her way to go untie the guards, but when she heard this, she stopped in the middle of the road. Folding her arms, she glanced expectantly at her floating rival.

Suzanna twisted her metal-masked wrist a few times, and then pointed it at the rusty yellow fire hydrant which sat half-hidden in tall grass on the other side of the street. She flicked her right thumb, and another burst of energy spat out of the bright red gauntlet. This one was not a stun blast however, and the targeted shot shattered the iron end-cap on the hydrant like a baseball through a plate glass window. In half a second, a massive stream of water rushed out with a liquid roar, gushing right into Jenny.

The Gray Lady tumbled under the pressure of the water with a tiny “Eep!”. The powerful improvised water-cannon knocked her clean off her feet and into the grass beside the truck. The impact itself was next to nothing, but the shock of the cold water and the indignation of the situation caught her by surprise. She had no trouble standing up against the horizontal flood, which was already slowing as the pressure eased, but she was completely drenched. Her soaking costume now looked almost black and squelched with every movement. She shoveled a handful of heavy sopping hair out of her eyes, making sure her mask was in place, and glared up at the smirking blonde hovering just out of reach.

“See?  Now you’re practically fire-proof! I’ll send the mayor a check for the damages.  See you around.”

Suzanna winked, then flew up high, before arcing off toward her side of the city.

As Jenny stood in the sudden puddle, dripping from every inch of her body, beside three bound security guards and a ransacked armored car, she was seething. And her fiery feelings had embarrassingly little to do with the escaped criminal. This definitely wasn’t over.

…

Another episode of Guess the Video. The first girl gets the pie; the second escapes.

Mud game from a few weeks ago.

Interesting trailer for this WGN show. Is anyone watching this series? Does the ducking stool feature?

…when there’s a gunge vote between a man and woman, if the woman is voted to be gunged then the man usually gets gunged too, but if the man is voted to be gunged then the woman doesn’t get a drop on her? Just a few recent examples:

• That husband vs wife vote where the husband had to be a gentleman and get in with his wife for the second bucket, even though a lot of people had paid good money to save him.
• The UCB vote where Jess got the most votes, but the men got gunged as well after she had been gunged.
• The recent Gunge A Linguist at Sheffield University. The female team ‘won’ the vote, and they should have got all eight buckets of gunge each, as had happened the previous year with a male candidate. But instead they only got two buckets each and the rest went to two male teams, one of which actually got four buckets each! Also, the announcer as good as admitted that they were going to gunge the male teams as well because the result wasn’t what they had hoped for.

Now reverse the above situations. Can you imagine that any of the above female parties would have got a drop on them if the votes had gone the other way? It’s pretty clear that they thought themselves shoe-ins to avoid the gunge, and were very surprised and dismayed at how the results turned out.

I know, at the end of the day, that the people running the vote are free to do whateverthehelltheywant (although, when donations are involved, not honouring the vote could be viewed as fraud). But even so, I do feel ired. As female WAM fans, it feels like we have to pedal against an incline all the time.

Anyway, [/rant]. Enjoy the rest of the weekend!

I’m watching this without sound, so I can’t tell you whether the music’s any good. What I can tell you is that a girl gets covered in a large amount of red and black sludge.

Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction for personal enjoyment. The story does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence.

In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

Note: This is the second portion the story, the first can be found here.  It’s fairly serialized, so reading the first part will probably be helpful.  Hope it’s enjoyable.

 
#3   Glourp!

Suzanna was on patrol. As Clout, she had her protectorate portions of the city well-observed. She liked to say that she knew about crime taking place even before the perpetrators did; while that wasn’t technically true, a volunteer program, which routed security camera footage from local businesses through a dedicated Decker Industries server, got her pretty close. Today was a light day anyway, for both the hero and the CEO. Not so much as a scale had been seen of the Violet Viper since the interrupted armored car heist a couple days ago, and preparations for the new corporate product launch next week were nearly finalized. So, even though it wasn’t strictly necessary, Suzanna was looking for trouble. Mostly, she liked the excuse to get out and fly. The flying was one of the major perks of this whole superhero thing, and it just wasn’t the same when there was some kind of disaster or conflict going on…

As she was buzzing an elementary school, waving at children and derailing a dozen lesson-plans at once, the satellite radio attached to her computer system chirped in her ear. Lily Pfennig’s eerily even voice was on the other end. On the books, Lily was Suzanna Decker’s personal assistant, confidant, and general factotum; off the books, she served much the same role for Clout. Despite the woman’s outwardly jarring unflappability, she was an efficient resource and a close friend. Lily was characteristically curt on the radio.

“An alarm has been triggered at the Pleasant Farms Country Desserts plant. At the sugar refinery, specifically. Someone broke in and chained the doors to the office building, locked the employees inside. You’re not far, and can get there six minutes before the nearest police unit. I’ll inform dispatch you’re responding and send the directions to your display. Anything else I can do for you?”

Suzanna grinned, adjusting her flight-path to the new destination.

“Nope.  Sounds like fun.”

She reached the dessert factory quickly, and proceeded to make a few looping passes above the place, using her suit’s optics to ferret out the problem. The Pleasant Farms Country Desserts plant was a field of industrial structures. Pipes crisscrossed around warehouses, smokestacks loomed over shiny steel tanks of all sizes, and the whole installation was enclosed by several layers of tall wire fencing. There were no obvious breaks in the fence, but… Bingo. She spotted the likely culprit and dove down to intercede.

She landed a few yards behind a figure dressed in black, from ski-mask to boots, who seemed to be fumbling with the release valve on one of the factory storage tanks.

“Excuse me, but could you give me directions to the gift shop?”

The man in black spun around, startled, and in doing so, gave Suzanna a bit of a shock as well. In addition to the normally expected number of arms, this guy had an extra pair, seemingly sprouted from the sides of his ribcage. Apparently he had cut holes in his turtleneck and sewn on homemade sleeves for the additional limbs.

“Hey hey hey, I don’t want any trouble, lady!”

“Looks like you’ve already had a bit… What’s with the arms?”

“Mind your own beeswax. What’ll it take to get you to shoo?”

“I was kind of interested in what your whole deal is, but I’m about over it. Got a bug-thing going on, got it, cool. Ok then, uh, I guess get ready to get squashed.”

“Ha! You think I’m scared of you blondie? The common pavement ant can lift one-thousand times its own weight; want to find out what I can do?”

Suzanna sighed, bringing her gauntlet up to point at the stranger.

“I mean, I did a minute ago. Now you’re becoming a pest. Buddy, I don’t even know who you are…”

“He calls himself Abhor-Ant, and he definitely can’t even lift twice his own weight.”

Both Suzanna and the man in black were surprised by this addition to their conversation.  Even more so when the Gray Lady appeared, out of the shadows among a nearby maze of pipes.

“His real name is Chuck-something. He was a scientist, working on a new form of genetic based pesticide, but not a very good one. One thing led to another, and he ended up an ant-themed super villain. But only in the most generous sense, mostly he just goes around ruining picnics.”

Abhor-Ant spoke up.

“Hey! Screw you!”

The Gray Lady gave him a glare and he shrank back.

“You see the arms? That’s basically all he’s got. Climbs pretty well, but only because all four of his thumbs turned into these dumb little hook things. Oh, and he can command any ants he runs into…”

“Well, that one isn’t totally sucky. Probably could do some damage with that.”

“Eh, not so much. He has to talk to them one at a time.”

“Oh. Lame.”

“Yeah. You know, you being a genius and all, I’m surprised you don’t know anything about this guy. He’s been around for a while. What, your computer drawing a blank?”

Suzanna blushed. In fact, her system had been running a fruitless search on the bug-man since the conversation started.

“Nah, I just don’t generally bother with insects. I leave them to second-stringers like you.”

It was Jenny’s turn to blush.

“Speaking of which, what exactly are you doing here? Run out of jay-walkers to bust downtown?”

The Gray Lady smiled none-too-sweetly at her rival in red armor.

“Well, after last time I just assumed we were sharing territory now. I was hoping for the chance to help you out, like you helped me. And good thing I caught wind of this mess, because otherwise you’d have had no clue about…. Damn!”

Jenny pointed. Abhor-Ant had taken off while they were talking. He had nearly reached the first fence ringing the Pleasant Farms Country Desserts complex. Just twelve yards and three eight-foot fences kept him from a clean getaway.

“Scurrying. That’s his other one. He’s really good at scurrying.”

Jenny tried to line up a shot, but he was moving too fast, and she was flustered. She jumped into the air, preparing to give chase.

“Wait! Hang on! I know this guy. Give me your boot!”

Confused and slightly cowed by the legacy heroine’s authoritative tone, Suzanna returned to the ground.

“For real? My boot?”

“Yeah. Either one. Quick, before he gets past the fence!”

Suzanna sat down, leaning against a large domed metal tank. She initiated the computerized release sequence on her left boot and began to remove it.

“Fine, just a second. What was his master plan anyway? What’s his endgame?”

“Steal a whole bunch of sugar? I don’t know, something stupid and ant-themed. Ok, give it here.”

Puzzled, Suzanna handed her shiny red alloy jet-boot up to Jenny. Abhor-Ant was at the top of the first fence.

Gracefully the Gray Lady drew her arm back, paused for a split second, and whipped the boot like a lop-sided boomerang. In spite of its aerodynamic flaws, the crimson missile sliced through the air, soaring in a shallow arc to strike the black-clad mutant in the head with a dull thunk. When it hit him, he had been queuing up a leap from the top of second fence to the third. Instead, he dropped like a rock, landing in an unconscious heap between the fences.

Half-shod, Clout looked up at the Gray Lady with a flash of new-found respect.

“Hey, wow. Nicely done! But, wouldn’t it have been easier with a rock, or something more balanced? How come you had to use my boot?”

Jenny grinned down at her.

“Because, I’m pretty sure you can’t fly with just one of them.”

Suzanna’s brows knit. She glanced at her bare foot, then at her boot, easily a hundred feet away. Her eyes narrowed as the realization landed.

“Oh. Ha. Ha. Ha. Oh that’s hilarious. So freaking mature. You happy now?”

Jenny shrugged.

“I’m getting there…”

Before Suzanna could react, much less stand up, Jenny delivered a sharp, lightning-fast left-hook to the tank she was leaning up against, a foot above her head. Her powerful fist put a basketball-sized dent in the thick metal, and punched a hole clean through the center of the dent. In the panicked instant, Suzanna recalled earlier reading “MOLASSES” emblazoned across the tank. Sure enough, a swelling globule of the thick, deep brown syrup bubbled out immediately.

It grew then fell, landing on Suzanna’s head with a soft gurgling sound. The dark molasses oozed slowly but steadily, spreading over her white-blonde hair, covering her shocked face, and dribbling across her bright red shoulders. The tank was large and nearly full, so the waterfall of sugarcane gloop kept coming. Her entire upper body was coated in molasses before Suzanna was able to pry herself off the side of the tank and awkwardly scoot out of the languid flow.

Half-barefoot and half-stickier-than-previously-thought-possible, the hero known as Clout gasped, smearing enough molasses off her eyepiece to partially see. Her hair was plastered flat beneath the smooth mess and the syrup had managed to sneak into every nook and cranny of her costume, giving even the non-metal parts a glistening sheen. She gave Jenny a one-eyed stare of utter disbelief. The Gray Lady smirked at her and shrugged.

“Hey, don’t look at me; you shouldn’t start what you can’t finish… I’ll send them a check for the damage. You’ll probably want to go get your other boot before the cops show up. See you later!”

Jenny waved, then took off running, much too fast for Suzanna to keep up with on foot, even if she wasn’t wearing a few gallons of treacle.

With a groan of self-pity, she heaved herself off the ground and began trudging toward her missing boot, leaving a dense trail of dark droplets back to the leaking tank. There was a burst of static in her ear, then Lily’s ever-staid voice. Well, at least the radio still worked.

“Boss? I’m receiving some very strange diagnostic readings from your suit systems. Is everything alright over there?”

Suzanna had to mumble to avoid tasting too much of the strong syrup.

“You picked a hell of a time to chime in there, Lil…”

“You don’t sound so good. Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?”

“No, not really. Not yet anyway. Actually, on second thought, go ahead and cancel my appointments for the day after tomorrow.”

Suzanna peeled one of her saturated forelocks off the eyepiece. Miss Wheeling may have won this round, but she wasn’t done yet.

…

#4   Ker-Splut!

“You’re certain this tip is legit? Seems to have cropped up kind of suddenly, doesn’t it? I haven’t heard any rumors or anything.”

Joan rolled her eyes. The Channel 3 chief reporter was checking her appearance in a small compact.

“Yes, I’m sure it’s legit. It just so happens, I have a more fully developed network for sniffing out leads than you. No need to get jealous. Besides, of course you haven’t heard about it, because we break the news… Real-life isn’t like the internet; out here, we don’t get all our stories from blogs.”

Jenny shook her head.

“Ha! Jealous? What was your big scoop yesterday? Oh yeah, that’s right, it was a guy who swore he had a herd of zebras living in his backyard. How’d that one turn out?”

“About how you’d expect… But, around here? Stranger things have happened. Like the day before last; I covered that break-in at the dessert factory uptown, where the bug guy claimed he got his clock-cleaned with a boot. That was news!”

The online journalist smiled.

“Yeah, you’re right about that one. I liked that story.”

“Right? And anyway, when this tip pans out, it’ll be the top story for a solid week. You have any idea when was the last time a meteoroid landed in the city? Seriously, do you have any idea, because it would be good info for my package and I have no clue.”

“Uh, no, I don’t know either. Can’t say I remember it happening before. Is it always such short notice? You tipster at the observatory just called you up this morning and said a chunk of space rock was going to drop-in today?”

“Yep, basically. But apparently I wasn’t the only one who got a call…”

In addition to the team from Channel 3 News and Jenny, who Joan had called, there were at least a dozen other reporters, photographers, and A/V crews on the scene. All of them were milling around, chatting and waiting for the big event.

“Apparently not. If it makes you feel any better, nobody else called me. But hey, I get that these astronomy types are smart and all, but can they usually predict the exact place where one of these things is going to hit? That seems awfully specific. Are you sure it’s not dangerous to be out here?”

“Geez, you and danger, huh? I swear, you’ll avoid absolutely anything if it seems a little risky.”

“I’m just cautious is all.”

“Oh I can tell. I’m not sure how they know exactly where it will land, some kind of new telemetry tracking technology, or something jargon-y like that. And, yeah, the thing’s going to land in the middle of the field, so we’re totally safe over here.”

The small crowd of media personnel was gathered together at the edge of a large patch of fallow farmland. Apparently the plot, a modest farm at the edge of the city-proper, was for sale and the charming little farmhouse off in the corner was uninhabited. The whole place smelled like rich earth and new green growth. It was a cloudless sunny day, the latest in a string, yet the empty dirt still looked freshly turned and quite wet. Jenny chalked it up as yet another mystery on a day full of them.

It had now been nearly a week, and she still hadn’t managed to find the trail of the Violet Viper. Admittedly though, until recently, she had been somewhat preoccupied with the disagreement she’d been having with Clout. Luckily that was settled now; their last encounter was sure to stick in Decker’s mind for quite some time…

She was rattled from her reminiscing by a poke in the shoulder from Joan. For someone excited to finally have a chance at a real news story, the attractive blonde reporter could be very fickle.

“How long are you going to stay here? I’d hate to miss it and all, but I’d also hate to spend the day standing around some farm for no reason…”

They were interrupted when Joan’s cameraman, along with several others, pointed up at something in the sky.

“Look! Up there!”

“Is it a bird?”

“No, it’s a plane!”

“It’s… headed right at us!”

The mysterious object in question appeared as a silvery flash across the uninterrupted blue. At first it seemed far away, but rapidly appeared much closer. Indeed, it did seem to be flying straight toward them.

Calm in the face of danger, Jenny tensed her every muscle, preparing to do whatever possible to prevent disaster… Time seemed to slow as adrenaline flooded her bloodstream.

Then, in the midst of the rising panic, anxious voices were pointing out something new.

“Wait!” “What’s that?” “It’s red!”

A second slash of color was now on a collision course with the first. The two objects screaming through the air met, joining and changing direction ever so slightly. They were now hurtling directly at Jenny.

It was the Gray Lady’s well-honed observational powers, as well as the adrenaline coursing through her superhuman system, which gave her heightened senses the time to take everything in and process what she was seeing. In a snap, she put it all together.

By now, the red blur was near enough that she could easily and obviously identify it as Suzanna Decker, wearing some sort of bulkier-than-normal Clout armor. Furthermore, all of the mysteries and strange happenstances plaguing her day suddenly made perfect sense. If anyone in the city could plausibly fake a meteoroid, it was Decker. In any other situation, Jenny could easily get out of the way, or at the very least do something to screw up this elegantly scripted farce. However, at the moment, she was surrounded by like fifty video and still cameras, gleefully recording whatever was about to happen next. That crafty little… As much as it galled her, Jenny couldn’t do a single thing without revealing her very special, very secret, set of abilities.

In the split-second it had taken her to assemble the facts of the matter, Clout had gotten close enough that even those who weren’t endowed with super-powered eyesight were beginning to recognize the red blur streaking toward poor Jenny Wheeling. There were some gasps, and a couple of relieved sighs, but it was all happening too fast for anyone to properly react. Jenny just had to stand rooted on the spot, like everyone else, and accept the inevitable. Suzanna’s voice, amplified by some speaker in her headset, called out a warning; she knew better than anyone that no normal person would have time to heed it…

“Watch out! Coming in hot!”

Fuming, and doing her best to present a surprised expression for whatever cameras might happen to have her in frame, Jenny watched as Clout turned in mid-air, deploying drag-flaps on her suit armor and angling the jet-equipped boots at the ground. In this particular case, the ground was loose, waterlogged mud. The boots’ jets, combined with Suzanna’s serious momentum, created an effect just like that caused by an ice-skater stopping short. Except here, the results were precisely targeted. An unholy plume of soil, water, and mud was thrashed into the air by Suzanna’s “emergency” breaking maneuvers.

The cloud of clotted dirt rained over Jenny in clumps and clods and a wash of soupy mud. Out the corner of her eye, before it was obscured by a wad of muck, she saw Joan jump practically out of her skin to avoid the lumpy spray; maybe she secretly had superpowers too… Quickly all her thoughts were consumed by the thick coat of gunk she was now wearing over the entire front of her body, from head to toe.

Jenny let out a sputtering half-shriek which was only partly acting. Her thick-framed glasses had been knocked somewhere in miniature mud-storm, and the pelting had jostled part of her ponytail loose on top of soiling her hair. She had been wearing a striped blue button-down shirt, but she wasn’t sure anymore; whatever it was weighed nearly fifteen pounds and was uniformly gray-ish brown. Her pants hadn’t fared any better and she was certain that there was already mud in her shoes. She dragged her fingers through the stuff caking her face, leaving tracks in the mottled mush.

“Is everyone alright? Whew, that was a close one, eh?”

There was some light chucking, nervous and spiced with relief. Jenny slowly inched her eyes open.

Suzanna Decker was floating in front of the crowd, beaming cheerfully. Her Clout armor was different from the standard version, featuring heavy-duty jet boots that reached to her knees, some sort of finned metal backpack, and an enormous red gauntlet on her right hand. The huge, barrel-cuffed gauntlet was made of a different material than the rest of the armor, and rather than a metallic shine, had dull finish almost like stone. In the giant mechanical glove was clutched a small, roundish chunk of smoldering rock.

“We almost had quite the catastrophe didn’t we! Lucky I was around to lend a hand…”

The laughter was louder this time, the audience more confidant that disaster really had been averted.

“When I heard about the possibility of a meteoroid landing, I figured I’d just go watch the show. Glad I decided to bring along the new suit! It’s a prototype, designed for assisting disable planes with landings. But it did the trick!”

“I’ll say! Remind me to never trust another astronomer…”

This was Joan, dusting off her pantsuit from when she dove for cover behind the news van.

“Well, Ms Tullamore, don’t be too hard on them. They don’t often get up close and personal with their research! Oh no!”

Suzanna made a show of noticing Jenny for the first time. She flitted over and landed in front of the drably-dressed reporter marinating in mud.

“Oh I am so sorry! I was just going too fast and couldn’t slow down quick enough! Oh it’s completely my fault! I should’ve warned you earlier, given you a chance to get out of the way!”

Her tone was pitch-perfect. Apologetic, sweet, and concerned, with just the right amount of sympathy. But even squinting, Jenny could see the flicker of a smirk at the corners of her mouth, the tell-tale raised eyebrow.

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up about it! It’s a shame, but better a bit of dirt than a flaming rock! We’re all very grateful, Jenny too, right Jen?”

The woman who was secretly the Gray Lady was very tempted to chuck her friend Joan in the mud. Instead, she forced a smile.

“Right, I’m fine! And very, very, grateful! I don’t think I’ll ever forget what you did here today.”

“Terrific! I’m already feeling better!”

Jenny’s strained smile faltered as she glanced to each side. Not even a fleck of filth had landed on any of the other media folks assembled.  Seriously?

“Ah, and I think these are yours…”

Suzanna was holding out her mud-smeared glasses, dangling them by the stem.

As Jenny placed them on her nose, her imaginary gratitude was worn down to its last thread. The only thing keeping her together was the thought of a quick trip home. She’d tell Joan she was calling a cab, then put on the emergency costume in her bag and jog back to her apartment as fast as she could, may be run through a creek or something on her way. But Suzanna was two steps ahead. The tapped her headset with her left hand.

“I just called a cab to take you home. It’s on me, of course! Should be here in just a little while.”

“Huh? Oh, no! I mean, you don’t have to…”

“It’s the least I can do! And by the way…” She turned to Joan.

“Ms Tullamore, I’m sure they need you back in the news room, but do you think you could escort our friend home? I’m sure she’s ok, but she did take a little bit of a pummeling there, so better safe than sorry right? You know, just make sure she gets back alright.”

Joan gave Jenny a dainty pat on the shoulder.

“Sure, no problem. I’ll walk her right to her door.”

“Great! I’d do it myself, but you know,” she gestured with the smoking “meteorite” in her over-sized fist, “I should really get this to the appropriate experts.”

Jenny’s shoulders sagged. She turned to go look for a towel in the Channel 3 van, resigned to a squishy, crusty afternoon.

“Hey, hang on, Jenny was it?”

She locked eyes with Suzanna, the hidden fire in her gaze visible behind both glasses and mud. Her voice was gratingly upbeat.

“Yes?”

“I really do feel terrible about all this. I’ll send you a check for the dry-cleaning. Or if you want to just replace the clothes… Also, you’re a reporter, right? Look me up sometime and I’ll give you an interview, about whatever you want. You could do a piece about a day in the life of a superhero! I’m sure it would be very informative. Well, I really should be going! Bye-now.”

Suzanna took off, zipping over the treetops in a matter of seconds.

“Whoa. An exclusive interview with Clout would be front page material. That’s a coup, even for you.”

Jenny ignored her friend, continuing her search for a towel.

It wasn’t really a surprise that Suzanna knew her secret identity, or that she knew she could get to Jenny through Joan. She had half suspected the tech savvy CEO kept tabs on anyone in the city who wore a mask for a while. Sneaky as she could be, Jenny didn’t have to worry about being outed as the Gray Lady. There are some lines you just don’t cross. But Decker had made use of the prized information, annoyingly effective use, and that opened up a few doors for Jenny as well.

Sure, she just got taken for a ride. A very muddy, very public ride which wasn’t going to end until after a forty-five minute cab trip… But if Suzanna thought she was going to fold, smarty-pants had another thing coming. She didn’t win the game; she just upped the ante.

…

Some new episodes from this perennial obstacle course game show from China. No mess here, only water, but on the plus side no padded jackets either. Just cute girls in their regular clothes.

Plenty more from the uploader.

Although this story mentions real persons, corporations, TV shows and places, it is purely a work of fiction for personal enjoyment. The story does NOT describe real events and should NOT be taken to accurately portray any real entity mentioned.

In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

Suzanna “Suzi” Mia Harrison was a familiar face to all gunge fans who may have been watching the World Cup. After all, her own gungy TV show, Suzi’s Slop Drop, had been such a success that she was a natural choice to fly out to Brazil and join the hosting team for the CSWWC, a CSWL spin-off. The CSWWC (or Celebrity Supporters’ WAM World Cup) had an array of hosts including herself, Gabby Logan and Sarah Carbonero (after all, they needed someone to be impartial during England’s ill-fated matches). The studio had been altered too, as per the designs of Natalie “r1vetgrrl” Orwell from Panicked Productions. The tanks were made wider and longer, giving the occupant some room to move around. However, there were nozzles all over the top and bottom of the tanks making it impossible to completely avoid any gunge, especially since they were capable of articulation. They weren’t so much gunge tanks as what Logan had dubbed “gunge chambers”. The traditional dunk tank and dessert tables were retained, though the latter was scaled down a tad. There was also a pillory with a white line about 11 metres away from it. Clearly, some rules had changed…

Dressed in a glitzy blue dress and her usual footwear (that is to say, none), Suzi took her place between the two gunge chambers and began her duties of hosting the show. “Welcome to the latest CSWWC. I’m Suzi Harrison and tonight, we’re in Sao Paolo for a Group H game. It’s South Korea against Belgium. Belgium are currently top of the group on six points while the Koreans are at the bottom. However, if they and Russia win, and if South Korea win by two more goals than Russia, then both teams playing here tonight will go through. That’s not even factoring in what a tie in that match would mean.” She then gave a quick glance to the women in the gunge chambers. “What we’re really interested in are our two special guests, who have bravely volunteered to motivate their team by joining our little bit of messy fun. Let’s meet the first one. For South Korea, it’s K-pop star Hyuna.”

The camera turned to the right and revealed the occupant of the chamber perched on a barstool. She had a slightly nervous smile, with her bare feet swinging gently. “Hi, I’m Hyuna,” she said.

“Hyuna, you’re one of the most successful K-pop stars around, but like most of us Brits, pretty much all we know about K-pop is that Gangnam Style was a thing. So, tell us a bit more about yourself.”

Hyuna giggled a little bit. “Funny you should mention Gangnam Style, since I did my own version of it with PSY.”

“I feel so educated already!”

“I also used to be in various groups like Wonder Girls and 4minute, but now I’m a solo artist. I’ve also done modelling and advertising work, mostly for Korean stuff most of your viewers have never heard of!” Hyuna said with a laugh.

Suzi nodded. “Sounds very similar to what a lot of pop stars do in England, really. So, are you feeling confident tonight?”

Hyuna shook her head. “Not really! The Taeguk Warriors have not had a good tournament so far and they’re up against the team at the top of the group. Still, I hope they do well and stop me getting too messy!”

“So, not an overwhelming display of confidence from Hyuna. Let’s see if our Belgian representative is any more or less confident. Let’s meet her. From the metal band Bliksem, it’s Peggy Meh… Me-yoo… Mee-urr…”

“Meussenn. It’s really not that difficult,” the Belgian lady said as the camera panned over to her. Like Hyuna, she was sat on a stool in her chamber, but she seemed a bit more relaxed for some reason. Perhaps it was because the odds were in her favour or perhaps it was simply that she didn’t fear getting a bit messy (or a lot messy, as it could have been).

Suzi sighed. “Sorry Peggy. Anyway, tell us about yourself.”

“It’s fine. Anyway, I’m Peggy Meussenn, and I’m the singer from the thrash metal band Bliksem, which means ‘lightning’ in Dutch.”

“Cool! Some of my best friends are in a metal band. They’re called The Kayotics. Ever heard of them?”

Peggy nodded. “Heard of them, yeah. They seem pretty crazy.”

“They are pretty crazy. Still, it would be amazing to see you tour with them. For now though, we’ve got a football game to watch. Hyuna’s not overly confident. How about yourself?”

“Like you guys said, we’re top and Korea’s at the bottom. I don’t mind getting a bit messy if things go wrong for Belgium, but they won’t!” the Bliksem singer said with a grin.

Suzi grinned and turned to the front. “Well, quite a contrast of feelings in the chambers tonight, but it’s not just the score that dictates how messy our two guests will get tonight. Naturally, for each goal, our two plucky young singers will an absolutely thorough splattering of gunge from the nozzles. For the first, it’s their opposing team’s colours, their opposition’s second colours for the second goal, their own first colours for the third and their own second colours for the fourth. If we end up with five or more, it will go back to the start and continue like that. There are nozzles from above for the shirt colours, and below for the shorts colours.”

Suzi looked down at the desserts as the camera pulled back to reveal the trolley. “Then there’s yellow cards. Each yellow card a player gets will get their representative pied in the face. If they get a red, then they get this.” Suzi pulled out a bucket of some kind of red liquid. “Some lovely gunge, the same shade of red as the card, which will be pumped in and splattered on the appropriate guest. Whether it’s from above or below, I couldn’t say! On top of all that, the more of an effort each team puts in will allow our two guests the chance to cake each other. Each shot equates to one dessert, which has to be thrown from 11 metres away from the other. A shot on target, however, can be delivered at point blank range. So Hyuna, let’s say South Korea make seven shots and three are on target. You get to throw seven puddings at Peggy, and three of them will be almost impossible for you to miss!”

Hyuna giggled. “That sounds like fun!”

“Doesn’t it just?! What’s more, she’ll not be able to dodge as she’ll be in the pillory while this is going on. Of course, she’ll have the chance to get you back if Belgium make any shots of their own!” Suzi winked. “There’s one last thing, and that’s the dunk tank. We’ll reveal what’s inside at the end, but if this game’s not a draw, one of you will be going in it! If Belgium win, it will be Hyuna, and if South Korea win then it will be Peggy.”

“What if it is a draw?” Hyuna asked.

Peggy smirked and said “I think Suzi should go in if that happens!”

“Then I’ll hope for an actual result! Draws suck anyway! Now, just one thing to clear up before kick-off. Goal and card-related messes will happen as they happen. Everything else will be settled up after.” The camera cut to the actual match, with small shots of Peggy, Hyuna and Suzi’s reactions as the game began. “Good luck, ladies. This is going to be sloppy!”

The match began, and the three women watched with much the same mindset they’d demonstrated before. Hyuna looked nervous, Peggy looked confident and Suzi looked on in anticipation of what was going to happen. For most of the first half, it didn’t seem to be much of anything. Then, thirty-five minutes in, both Peggy and Hyuna gasped in horror as Hong dragged Mirallis down to the ground. The referee held the yellow card aloft and Hyuna cringed. “That’s a booking for South Korea!” Suzi announced.

“Oh no…” Hyuna mumbled. Her trepidation about the upcoming mess belied just how relieved that the match hadn’t actually gone worse thus far.

Suzi picked a thick, creamy custard pie from the table and opened the door to Hyuna’s chamber. “Come here, Hyuna!” she grinned. Hyuna sighed and resigned herself to her creamy fate. All things considered, it could have been a lot worse, and there was a real feeling among pop detractors the world over that pop stars were spoilt divas with a fear of ever getting their beauty tarnished. This was her chance to prove them wrong. After all, that was why she was there.

SPLAT!

Before Hyuna could really prepare, Suzi slammed the pie straight in the pop star’s face and stepped out the chamber. All Hyuna could really do was laugh and bear the brunt of the penalty. She sighed and wiped the worst of the cream and crumbling crust from her eyes, before returning to her seat. The rest of the pie seemed to stay in place really well, much to her discomfort.

The game continued on, with no goals. Half time was rapidly approaching, when something happened that made Peggy’s heart sink. What was Defour doing?! Stamping on Kim Shinwook’s leg, apparently. No wonder the ref had sent him off. “Wait,” thought Peggy. “That means that–”

Before Peggy’s train of thought reached its destination, she felt something splashing on her pretty little toes. The gunge nozzles from below had kicked into life, splashing her feet in a bright red mess and running up her legs. In the space of a few seconds, she’d been thoroughly splashed with cool, red ooze. She pouted and looked at herself in the reflection from the glass of the chamber walls. Crimson streams of sludge splattered all over her face and body, some soaking through her dress. It felt cold and she looked silly, but she couldn’t help smiling. Certainly, she liked the look of her penalty more than Hyuna’s. Looking over at the other chamber, it seemed the pop star didn’t share that opinion. She looked a bit scared of the gunge-covered metal singer. Whether it was the actual gunge or just Peggy’s new, Carrie-esque look, she didn’t say.

The match continued on without incident for the rest of the half. As the whistle went, the studio became the focus of the show once more. “Well, it’s goalless at half-time, but we’ve seen a bit of dirty play. Just how I like it!” Suzi grinned. “Let’s start with Hyuna. Sweetie, you look delicious!”

Hyuna blushed a little underneath the creamy remains of the pie. “Thanks?”

“A bit of a tactical foul from one of your players, but a foul nonetheless. Still, Belgium are down to ten men. That’s got to be good for you.”

“Yeah, I’m a bit more confident now! Plus, red really suits Peggy!” The Bliksem singer just scoffed at Hyuna’s comment.

“I don’t think she agrees, somehow,” said Suzi as she went over to the other chamber. “Peggy, you’re down to ten men. Think you can still win this?”

Peggy nodded. “Yeah, we’ll definitely score in this half. Our team wears red, so we’ll see who really suits it by the time this is over.”

“Well, let’s see what happens in the second half. Who’s going to get showered in glory, and who’s going to get showered in gunge? Let’s find out after this break!” Suzi said as the show cut to adverts.

——

Part two began and the second half kicked off. Peggy was still dripping with goo, with Hyuna dripping with cream. It took about five minutes for Peggy’s heart to sink again, as Dembélé did something pretty silly and got himself a yellow card. Hyuna couldn’t help grinning smugly as Suzi approached Peggy’s door, cheesecake in hand. The Belgian singer just sighed and approached the door, her bare feet splashing in the red gunge puddles on the floor. Suzi opened it and in one swift moment, smashed the cheesecake into Peggy’s face. It didn’t splatter as dramatically as Hyuna’s pie, but stuck fast. Peggy tried in vain to shake it off, before deciding it might have been more fruitful to just rip off a large chunk of it with her fingers and throw it on the ground. Underneath the cheesecake, she was feeling very disappointed. Not just that two of her country’s players had been caught playing dirty, but that she was paying the price for it.

Suddenly, Peggy’s spirits were lifted. Vertonghen scored! She cheered as the gunge nozzles kicked into action over in Hyuna’s chamber. Waves of red gunge began to splash upon Hyuna, displacing the pie on her face and completely covering the K-pop starlet. There was the odd yellow highlight, fitting with the little details on the Belgian kit. Hyuna didn’t even try to fight back against it – after all, it was coming at her from every angle. There was no escape from her gungy fate. She just bravely grinned and took it, despite Peggy’s incessant laughing. The gunging only lasted a few seconds, but it was enough to cover every square centimetre of Hyuna’s body. She shivered and looked down at her clothes. Hopefully her costume people could get it sorted out for future appearances. “Looking good, Hyuna!” Peggy teased from her chamber. Hyuna just chuckled and watched the rest of the game from beneath her gunky red covering.

A few minutes later, the final whistle sounded. The game was over, and Hyuna sighed as she resigned herself to the fact she’d be getting dunked later. All she hoped was that she could get Peggy extra messy before the dunking. The doors popped open and Suzi stepped forwards. “Well well! A scrappy 1-0 win for Belgium leaves both of our guests gungy and with desserts on their faces. It’s not over yet though, as we’ve got the shots punishment to go through, and I’m worried we won’t have enough! Tonight’s game was hotly contested, after all,” Suzi said, before turning to Peggy. “Peggy, your team were victorious tonight. That means that you’re the first one in the pillory, but also that you’ll be the one doing the dunk later.”

“It’ll make it all the better!” Peggy grinned with a playful malevolence as she and Suzi walked over to the pillory. Suzi opened it up for Peggy to put her head and hands through.

Suzi walked back over to Hyuna with a wry grin on her face. “There were a lot of attempts at the goal in that match, as you saw, and not only did South Korea have more of them, but they had more on-target. To be precise, it’s 18 shots, of which 12 were on-target. Shame none of them ended up as goals, but those are the breaks! Still, you’ve got twelve desserts to mess Peggy up with now, then six from the line.”

Hyuna and Suzi walked over to Peggy with the trolley. “Can I use any of them?” Hyuna asked eagerly.

“Yup. If it’s in a tin or on a paper plate, it’s good,” Suzi said.

Hyuna looked over the dessert table and decided to start with a trifle. She held it above Peggy’s head. The Belgian bit her bottom lip and closed her eyes tightly. Hyuna turned the trifle upside-down and dumped it on Peggy’s head. The cream flowed down the side of her head while the custard went down her face, distributing lumps of jelly throughout the mess. Hyuna followed it up quickly with a custard pie in Peggy’s face. The redhead shook her head and sent little globules of mess off in all directions. “Do all the desserts have to go on her face?”

“Normally I’d say yes, but I don’t think you could mess her face up much more. Go nuts.”

Peggy gasped. “What?! That’s just messed–EEK!” She squealed as Hyuna slapped a custard pie into her backside, the bright cream standing out on the dark, gunge-stained dress. “I am so getting you back for that!” Hyuna just giggled at Peggy’s threat and grabbed an array of desserts. Without mercy, she peppered Peggy’s body with them, covering the Belgian with an array of sweet treats. She had come into this as a tough-looking metal frontwoman in a black dress adorned with skulls and roses, but now she looked like a colourful blob of cream, crust, icing and gunk. It was a weird sensation to be covered in such a tasty array of things, but she was thankful that soon it would be over. All that was left before she’d be freed was the long-range barrage of mess… or so she thought.

“You’ve got two left before the off-target shots bit,” Suzi announced.

Peggy sighed impatiently. She was so sure that Hyuna had used up all her free shots, but apparently not. She saw Hyuna walk towards her with two custard pies in hand, but she walked past her and out of view. “What is she doing?” she thought.

A moment passed, and Hyuna was back in view. “Take a step forwards,” she said.

“What for?” Peggy asked.

“Just do it, please.”

Peggy quickly put two and two together and winced. She raised her slimy left foot up and cautiously placed it slightly forwards, sinking her toes deep into the cream. Wincing in disgust, she decided to just stomp the right pie with her right foot. Hopefully, most of it would displace rather than smother her foot, as had happened with the left. She then cringed as Hyuna and Suzi took their positions at the penalty line. A black forest gateau was the first dessert from Hyuna’s hand, and it hit Peggy square in the face. “Fluke shot!” Peggy teased, but so it turned out to be. The remaining five desserts splattered harmlessly on the actual pillory – not that it was likely possible to get Peggy much messier!

“And that’s it for Peggy’s penalties,” Suzi announced as she and Hyuna took the dessert tray over to the pillory. She let the glop-stricken girl out, but didn’t quite expect the reaction she got. Peggy wrapped her arms around Suzi, wiping a load of the mess on the host. “Ugh, neither England nor Germany played today! No need to punish me!” she said with a slight grin. It just wasn’t one of her shows if she didn’t get some kind of mess, after all!

“You’re German?” Peggy asked.

“Only a quarter. My mum’s mother is,” Suzi explained. “Anyway, you can mess me up if Germany play Belgium!”

Peggy just smirked. “But I’m having fun now!” she said as she ruffled Suzi’s hair, mashing cream into it.

“Can’t you have fun with Hyuna?” Suzi said with a slight glare.

“Oh, fine then!” said Peggy as Suzi put Hyuna into the pillory.

“Peggy, I can announce that Belgium had fifteen shots, eleven of which were on-target. It’s slightly less than what Hyuna got, but I’m sure you’ll have no trouble messing her up,” Suzi said, looking down at her cream-covered dress. Her attempt at humour made Hyuna feel a bit more relaxed in her unenviable position – a feeling which was shaken by the squelching noise of a strawberry gateau being smushed against her face. Three custard pies followed this up, and Peggy took great delight in smearing their contents into Hyuna’s hair. The slimy pop star could only stand there helplessly as Peggy grinned meanly and turned the creamy mess that was her hair into a makeshift beehive style. She then wriggled in discomfort as Peggy shoved a chocolate cake down her top and crushed it into a sloppy mess. Thankfully for Hyuna, Peggy was a lot more merciful with the rest of the free shots, and settled with turning the red-splatted Korean pop princess into a pie-stained, red-splattered Korean pop princess.

Peggy then took the trolley to the penalty line, trailing creamy footprints behind her as she went. She threw two lemon meringue pies, which hit each of Hyuna’s hands. It was an unusual choice of target. “Why did you do that?” Hyuna whined.

“So you can’t wipe yourself off too easily,” Peggy smirked as she threw a custard pie. It missed the intended target of Hyuna’s face, splattering on her left knee instead. A second custard pie found itself dead in the centre of Hyuna’s face, though. Her final shot was a trifle, which spun in mid-air and dumped its mix of cream, custard and jelly on the splattered beehive that was Hyuna’s hair.

“And that’s it!” Suzi announced, releasing Hyuna from the pillory. “We’ve just got one last messy punishment left, and that’s the dunk tank. Let’s uncover the tank!”

Natalie “r1vetgrrl” Orwell and a couple of stagehands moved the tarp over the large vat away, revealing the contents. It was thick, green gunge with the words “COME ON YOU REDS” written in blue – no doubt a reference to the fact that both Belgium and South Korea’s primary colours were red. There were steps leading up to a platform behind the dunk tank seat, with a lever stage right. Hyuna looked at it, seeming to be slightly intimidated by it and the large cylinder poised above the tank. It too seemed to be filled with gunge. Peggy couldn’t help grinning at it. “Not gonna lie, but going in there kinda looks like it could be fun!”

“Oh, it’s not the worst possible thing,” said Suzi, recalling the time she and her former boss did some promotional material for Slop Drop’s first series. “It’s what’s we’ve got lined up for Hyuna, though! So, if you’d take your place on the Seat of Shame, and Peggy, you take your place by the lever.”

Hyuna pouted, but walked up to the seat. She clambered onto it cautiously, trying not to take an early dive into the gunge vat beneath her. As she looked down on the slimy pit from the seat, it suddenly seemed a lot bigger. She crossed her legs and whispered something in Korean, no doubt hoping that it would be done with at any moment. She didn’t even notice Suzi walk up to her and say something. “What was that?” she said quietly.
“I asked if you’d had fun here,” said Suzi.”Oh! Well, my team lost but I enjoyed watching the game and messing Peggy. I just wish it was her going in the pit and not me!”Suzi chuckled a little bit and walked back towards Peggy. “Well, that’s not the case. Now Peggy, your team won the game tonight.” she said as Peggy gripped tightly onto the lever, waiting for Suzi to give her word. “How are you feeling?”
“Slimy and sticky, but great! I might have to try this look in a video or something,” Peggy said, though with a clearly joky tone.”Alright, now pull that lever and dunk Hyuna!”Peggy yanked down on the lever with so much force, that Suzi was worried she’d rip it off. Hyuna jerked forward and flopped forwards into the green goo. She disappeared underneath for a brief moment before resurfacing, only for the cylinder above to dump its payload of light blue ooze on Hyuna’s already absolutely trashed hair. Suzi and Peggy couldn’t help laughing at her as she flopped around in the gunge, playfully making the most of her slimy predicament. Maybe the others were really laughing with her.Suzi walked over to the dunk tank and sat on the edge of it, her bare feet sinking into the goo. “Hyuna, come here a minute,” she said. As Hyuna waded over, Suzi shivered but also smiled. “Can I just say that sitting with your feet in this thing is nice, weird as that sounds?”Peggy walked over and dipped her feet in. “It’s way thicker than the stuff in the chamber too.””Yeah, I like it. Anyway, how do you like it, Hyuna?”Hyuna pouted. “I don’t know what you guys see in it!” she said, splashing Suzi and Peggy, who just laughed and kicked waves of gunge back at her.”Will you be back at the next World Cup?” Suzi asked.Hyuna shook her head. “Probably not. This has been fun, but it’s a once in a lifetime thing, I think!””And you, Peggy. Will we see you again?””You kidding? I’ll be here for the next round probably!”Suzi smiled. “Well, there you have it! That’s it from the three of us here in Sao Paolo. From our victor Peggy Meeussen, our graceful loser Hyuna and I, your always awesome host Suzi Harrison, good night!”As the credits began to roll, Peggy lifted her legs out of the tank and pushed Suzi forwards. The hostess tried to resist, but couldn’t get away thanks to Hyuna grabbing onto her ankles and pulling her into the tank with her. She just smiled at the inevitable happening. After all, what was one of her shows if she didn’t get more than her fair share of the mess?——I originally had a few ideas for CSWL stories based on the World Cup. I pondered doing one with Angela Gossow and Alexis Brown for the Germany/USA game, but canned that for this. I also thought of doing one purely with OCs for England vs. Italy – one of the Kayotics (most likely Kassidy or Michelle – Becky would have been too eager for her own good, Chloe would probably not agree to it, and Yumiko would likely to want to represent Japan) vs. a character from an unfinished story on my blog. Her name’s Cristina Ferro, and she’s an Italian football player who was hired by the Mudford Raiders F.C. – more specifically, their women’s team, The Amazons. She would have gotten a messy initiation ritual in a story heavily influenced by the Shireburgh series and thewhitelady’s works.I hope you guys like my second ever attempt at CSWL. I don’t plan to do any more. It’s not really my thing (I’ll not bore you with why yet again), but the lack of stories when there was a big discussion about it before and a recent demand for more celebrity stories got me thinking that someone ought to give it a go, so why not me?On a non-WAM note, I’d highly recommend checking Bliksem out. They might have a female singer, but their sound is more thrashy than most female-fronted metal bands. They remind me a fair bit of Anthrax – fitting, as they’re doing a show over there supporting them. Peggy’s also known to take the stage barefoot fairly often (including the one time I saw them), so there’s that too!Not sure what I’ll post next. It’s between Part Z of the A-Z (which seems to have halted again…), part of my much-delayed WAMiversary series, or a discussion topic at the moment.

Somebody wrote me an email in which, among other matters, they expressed appreciation of my short story “The Gooseberry”. I must say that this story, my first non-celeb piece, written three years ago in a single afternoon and evening, remains among the works I am most proud off. Incidental with this, I have recently been playing around with the program Calibre and its e-book creation tools. I decided to put together an e-book version of the Gooseberry. So now you can read this story on the train or plane (if you don’t mind strange looks from people that glance over your shoulder).

Below are EPUB and MOBI versions. I’m working on the PDF version but what I’ve done so far looks ugly. I don’t possess an e-book reader myself so I’d appreciate feedback on how the files behave. If there’s demand I might make an e-book version of Summer School.

EPUB version
MOBI version

Shout-out to amos grove who shook me from my slumber a bit by letting me know how appreciated the series is (could be only by a handful of people, could be a larger number, could just be one bloke/blokess). I am planning two installments after this! I desperately want to finish the series but I also want to do so properly.

Disclaimer: Although this story mentions educational institutions, TV shows and places, it is purely a work of fiction for personal enjoyment. The story does NOT describe real events and should NOT be taken to accurately portray any real entity mentioned. The people described are fictional and any resemblance to any person is purely coincidental.

In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

This story contains adult themes.

This story is set within the same decadent parallel universe as “Slime” and is written with deep respect for the original which inspired me to write this rather extended story (part of a sequence). It features a gameshow with the same morals (lack of) and dark undertones produced by the same company as “Slime”. All previous installments and background on the characters created by Tellygunge readers are linked to below. I recommend you at least read part 7a.

Tuition Free Show 1, Contestant Guide, Tuition Free Show 2, Tuition Free Show 3, Tuition Free Show 4, Tuition Free Show 5, Tuition Free Show T6a, Tuition Free Show 6b, Tuition Free Show 6c, Tuition Free Show 7a

It was the tie-break…

Inside their sensory deprived tombs: Ali, Stephanie and Maia were waiting on the final bucket…all three were intensely gooey, cold, clammy bundles of nerves. Ali and Stephanie both were more notable for dedication to partying rather than their studies. Maia was considerably dedicated to modern conceptual art. How you stood on her worth depended thoroughly on whether you thought that her style of art was a legitimate comment on society or a complete load of bollocks.

Brown-haired Croat Ivona had revealed a surprising sadistic side in deliberately inconveniencing Ali and Maia. Stephanie, who frankly it was a surprise that she was even left in the competition, had been gifted a question about an element of Biology that she had managing to actually take in between hangovers, cocktail bars and takeaways. Stephanie was quite a sight with her sodden hair and pink underwear. She was attempting to stamp off the rest of the black squid ink clinging to her chubby calves and toes, her face in a gurn of unpleasantness. Conventionally beautiful but surprisingly potty-mouthed Ali  and curvy, tattooed Maia were both completely cloaked in hoods  of black sticky cephalopod secretion. Ali’s long legs swung freely beneath her frame whilst Maia lounged with hers apart in an unladylike fashion.

“Ladies, before we do the tie-break, I think we’ll make this a level playing field.” Three girls approached the bound and blindfolded trio. One was notably more bedraggled than the others, with dark black stains on her skin and a face like thunder. It was Ali’s friend Kris, who had earlier been given a very sticky humiliation. Another was a bright-eyed mixed race girl dressed in hippie garb, who moved vivaciously towards the stage. Completing the trio was a nervous looking brunette in a cream summer dress.

“Now girls” remarked Gez “We’ve got your friends here to make this a fair fight and clean your feet, make sure that all of your sensory receptors can receive all of the muckiness we’re about to provide you with.”

With buckets and sponges the three girls set about the task with varying degrees of interest. Maia’s exotic looking friend took friendly care of removing every last morsel, Stephanie’s plainer looking friend handled each foot as if it was a small animal capable of biting, Ali’s friend Kris was rather rough (obviously p*ssed off at her earlier off-camera deluging in chocolate).

As the three backed away Gez stopped them with a gesture: “I’d stick around if I were you because there may be a surprise at the end.”

A voice came piped through each one of the headsets “I think before we continue let’s clean your bodies up a bit.”

With their noise limiting headphones on, all of the contestants were completely oblivious to the large metal firehouses being pointed assertively in their direction. Unsurprisingly; this rendered their spluttering gasps and screams all the more hilarious as they were hammered with a stream of ice cold water. Any of Stephanie’s exposed skin that was not covered by her shocking pink underwear came out in goose-pimples; Ali was swearing her head off, her yellow shirt clinging to her body.

Stephanie and Ali could count themselves lucky, however, compared to Maia. The extravagant van Gogh Starry Night painting which covered her upper body was unable to stand up to the force of the blasts of the hose. The strands of liquid latex were ripped to shreds; exposing beneath them the glowing skin of Maia’s pendulous breasts and un-toned stomach. Her nipples stood unmistakably to attention: bullet-hard baby pink pylons atop two hillocks. Was this from shocking cold? Fear? Arousal? It was hard to give a definitive answer.

The Last Bucket

So wiggling toes were yet again dipped into another gooey foodstuff. The audience could tell that it was a lime, chemical green. It was more a gooey solid than a sticky liquid and appealing looks of concentration appeared on each contestant’s face.

The question was : “For this substance, seven million of the main vegetable inside it are sold in the run up to a notable sporting event. Name the sporting event.”

A strange question…a difficult question. Would they guess or try to work out what they were dipping their feet in and work it out from there.

Stephanie’s mouth garbled “The Olympics” before her brain could even engage. Maia was at least slightly more contemplative, waiting a few seconds before saying “the Football World Cup”.

Ali however was oddly quiet. She thought how no British or European event had a culture of using large quantities of sticky substances. She thought about the alternatives. Could this be a North American event??

She thought of the trip had taken a long time a go to Miami. The amount of Spanish that was spoken there.

With remarkable clear-headedness her mouth stated these words “The event is the Superbowl. The substance is guacamole. The vegetable is the avocado.”

“Kris, Grace and Hannah” Gez said pointing to the friends who had given the contestants character references on the application form “It is time to remove the headsets” The friends obliged, revealing Maia and Stephanie’s frightened, exasperated faces alongside Ali’s confident one.

“Now as you all signed our forms as character references for our contestants” Gez said, gesturing at Kris, Grace and Hannah “So I reckon if your friend is eliminated you should share in their punishment”

To huge cheers from the audience the three non-contestants reacted with shock at this prospect. Grace with an extroverted scream, Kris with smouldering resentment and Hannah with a meek, lip-biting acceptance.

The camera panned to a pained, nervous Stephanie; a now strangely excited (and topless) Maia and Ali, looking straight ahead.

“ALI, YOU ARE CORRECT WELCOME TO THE NEXT ROUND! STEPHANIE AND MAIA WE’RE GOING TO ELIMINATE BOTH OF YOU IN THE SLOPPIEST POSSIBLE WAY….AS WE MAKE YOU INTO……

…….HUMAN BURRITOS!!! (a mariachi band invaded the stage)

…Maia hollered an ironic “Yay!!”. Her friend Grace in a supremely comic display, attempted to dart offstage but was caught by a combination of Lucinda Crow and a bouncer and dragged back to the stage, legs flailing!

.Stephanie looked like she wanted the world to swallow her up. Her housemate Hannah was kicking of her shoes in sullen acceptance.

Arriba Arriba

So it was burrito time!! The four of them lay prostrate upon a white flour tortilla. Stephanie and the vengeful recipient of her household butter theft on one side. looking rueful and sheepish. Maia and Grace sat the other side. They were giggling.

First there’s the rice and refried beans. Rather anticlimactic for the audience the cascade of fluffy rice tumbled onto the contestants.

Now the spicy salsa. A thick, liquid tomato mixture oozed out of the delivery tube, splashing onto Maia’s bare chest, Stephanie’s bare skin, Grace’s floral dress and Hannah’s plainer dress. Maia and Grace collapsed into greater hysterics, as the liquid spurted on them from neck to toe. Stephanie and Hannah were subdued, covering their faces with their hands.

Now sour cream. If there were massive portions of salsa the amount of sour cream was truly monstrous. Stephanie reflexly screamed as the white goo enveloped her, Maia and Grace reared upwards with Maia cheering. Hannah lay stock still.

“That was amazing” remarked Maia as her and Grace played with the gunk, two gooey slimy creatures.

Next the cheese. Warm,  melted cheese was spread on each contestant, Maia imploring the stagehand not to spare her ‘tits’ to the crowd’s obvious joy. She licked her lips saliciously before Grace tackled her back onto the burrito.

The Guacamole. For Stephanie and Hannah this was the worst. Thick, cold and smelling definitely unfresh. It plopped onto their bodies and clung to their skin and clothes, working it’s way unpleasantly into the crevices.

Now let’s roll you up. In a scene of abject hilarity the vast flour tortilla was wrapped up by some burly technicians. Grace helped the combined effort by climbing and lying down on top of her near naked coursemate. Stephanie and Hannah were less keen.

“You got me into this Han. You filled out the form.” she shouted whilst being manhandled.

“Well I thought there’d be some mess and you’d be brought down a peg or two but….nothing compared to this” she spluttered.

The burrito was rolled up. Well technically it was a taco as it was open at both ends. Four sets of bare feet at one, four fairly messy heads at the other. The bundle was surprisingly tight, in fact almost straitjacket tight, each one of their bodies was in contact with three others.

The sight of prone, messy women raised the hackles of Lucinda Crow. Even in her casual clothes she sashayed like a panther towards them.

“Now there’s been a bit too much covering of faces from certain contestants.“ So I am going to redress the balance. Lucinda took a handful of each bowl and rubbed it gleefully through each individuals hair. She took another handful of guacamole and rubbed it in the face of the serial face cover-er Stephanie.

Stephanie’s mouth lay next to Hannah’s left ear. “I promise when I get back to Durham I’m going to be a way better housemate.” Hannah smiled as best she could “I suppose I did put you forward for this, so it’s only fair that I share too.”

Maia and Grace were still as effusive as ever. “A dream come true!” was the line that Maia kept repeating in her Yorkshire lilt.

From the tightly bound package Grace raised a lone and salient point “Erm…how do we get out?”

Lucinda smiled wickedly.

“If I was you I’d start eating!”

After almost three and a half years at the helm of this blog, I’ve decided to take a back seat. I’d like to devote more time to other things, in particular developing as a writer (for a mainstream audience), so I’m relinquishing my role as administrator of the blog with almost immediate effect. I’ll still be around, and I plan to continue writing 7DS, but I won’t do much on the clips side anymore (and no more Civilian Sundays, I’m afraid). MessyUniversity will continue to be updated until the present queue runs out.

Anyway, time to introduce the new administrator, except that no introduction is needed. He has been part of this blog’s heart and soul since 2011, and his contributions include Top of the Slops, Suzi’s Slop Drop, and Music Monday. An adept WordPress user, he is a long-serving editor of the blog and also has a blog of his own. He is well-connected in the WAM community, being an active member of EC Gunge, Wam Amine Funland, and (crucifix at the ready) the UMD. He has even stood accused of being my girlfriend. I have no doubts that the blog will enjoy a bright and messtastic future under his wise leadership, so please give a warm welcome to VanillaXSlime.

A little bit of co-ed mess in this trailer for a spin-off of one of my favourite guilty pleasure shows. The girl gets splattered with what looks like tomato soup and with a great shot of it happening at roughly 18 seconds. There’s also a brief aftershot featuring both the guy and the girl at 30 seconds. Pretty decent, if you don’t mind seeing the man get a bit messy too.

This story is purely a work of fiction. It does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence. In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

Although this story mentions real persons, corporations, TV shows and places, it is purely a work of fiction for personal enjoyment. The story does NOT describe real events and should NOT be taken to accurately portray any real entity mentioned. In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

—

So the last story was a hit, which I’m glad! I got a right taste for the games to continue as soon as possible, and began more or less two days after the last episode was up. I may start the next one soon again too – I never tire of this series and I have new ideas and characters to use!

As I like to remind anyone who doesn’t know, the adults, reasons and even the kids are all created by two of your fellow readers.

ALL GAMES AND THE GUNK DUNK QUESTIONS ARE DECIDED WITH A COIN TOSS. The only part that is not, is “Pie Jinks”, as that’s like a personal ‘Goo Who’ for myself based on the case put forward from the lovely readers. Now, over to Dave…

—

“KIDS AND KIDS, GROWNUPS EVERYWHERE, ARE YOU READY FOR THE SPECTACULAR -”

The camera panned round quick to show the GYOB set covered in smoke and lights blazing everywhere.

“AMAZING.”

The camera moved right by the rows of kids watching, who were cheering.

“AND THE MISTIFYING – agh, eh ehm, woah, agh!”

The camera came around to show a figure coming through the smoke, coughing and almost bouncing in some ways. It was of course Dave, putting on an act as though something had gone a bit wrong with the opening. The voice had of course also been his, masking it terribly.

“Oh agh, blimey! Well that didn’t go well, we had fireworks and lightening effects all lined up and all! Oh no, right well this Get Your Own Back! Welcomeeeee, welcome one and allll! HAHAHA!”

Dave held up his hands and span laughing as the titles rolled. The new series was fully in swing, and Dave was loving it. They had had a great response to the shows less celeb angle, and it truly felt like the good old days. It came back to Dave who had now gotten over his fake coughing and was grinning as he usually was.

“That’s right it’s that time again for some adults to meet their just and very sticky end! And just how sticky will it be? Well keep watching to find out, but that awful stuff behind me is a major clue as to what will happen!”

The camera very quickly moved to Dave’s side to look at the looming Gunk Dunk set, present throughout the show, and then cam back to looking at him.

“I think we better meet today’s teams! Today for the yellow’s we have 10 year old David!”

A young boy came running in from the left, with short blonde hair, and wearing yellow. He stood next to Dave cheering happily. Dave motioned to the other side.

“And for the blues, here today we have 11 year old Nicole!”

From the right a young girl came jogging out, waving like mad. She had brown hair which was done up in a poly tail. She continued to wave as Dave smiled at the camera.

“Alright then David, let’s start with you, and this was your letter!”

Dear Dave,

I would like to get my own back on my babysitter Eva. I am 10 years old and I do not need a babysitter any more. Eva is useless and just sits there the whole time talking on her phone and never lets me have any fun. When she lets me watch a film she always has to choose it and it’s always a boring grown up movie about love and kissing and then she just sits there talking or texting on her phone the whole way through her rubbish film so please could you give Eva what she deserves and cover her in the gunge. GUNGE HER DAVE!!!!!!

David

“Oh dear. A babysitter. One of my least favourite kind of adults. Alright bring her in!”

From the left a yellow cage rolled in, pushed by two crew members, and booing ensued. In the cage was young woman of 22. Eva had chosen to go with shorts to accompany her yellow top, and her legs were stunning, slender and looking very smooth. Her shorts were hugging her legs and behind, which was a nice shape, rather tightly. Her body shape was curvy and she was of an average height. Her hair was brown, and she was wearing it long and wavy. She had the slightest bit of makeup on her pale and elegant looking face and she had slightly prominent chin, but not overly so. As the cage came to a stop, Eva stood gripping the bars slightly near her hips. She was smiling slightly with the corners of her mouth, and looked from Dave to David, and back to Dave who spoke.

“Eva, welcome to the show! Now honestly. Romance films with lots of kissing and all..Davids not interested in all that!”

Eva closed her eyes a little and looked to her side, her mouth open and smiling, and sighed quickly, trying to find an answer. She spoke with a soft voice, that had a slight hint of an Albanian accent.

“Well, he seems to watch them with no problem. He might have brought me here today, but he never tells me no. Unless of course he is scared of me.”

“Scared? Well you never know I suppose. David, do you want to tell her what you really think of all those movies she makes you watch?”

“Yeah sure. Well they’re really really boring first of all, the acting in them is usually really bad too. In fact some of them make me fall asleep instantly, and even make her fall asleep. Simply Dave they’re awful, but she doesn’t accept it. EVA THEY STINK!”

This prompted one or two chuckles from the audience, and Eva opened her mouth, smiling still but tried to look a little shocked, opening her eyes wide too.

“Oh well he told you didn’t he! Well I’m sure David you’re looking forward to the show, and Eva you better get ready because you aren’t allowed to just sit around and be useless today, oh no! And I’d be prepared too because by the end of the show, those movies may not be the only thing that stink, you might do too! HAHAHA!”

Eva quickly snapped her head forward to look at the camera in front of her, keeping the same expression yet slightly frowning now too. Dave turned to the young girl on his other side.

“Nicole, this was your letter to me.”

Dear Dave,

My name is Nicole and I have to have to have to be on your show to get my own back on my big sister, Elizabeth. In most ways she’s a great sister. She’s an aspiring stand-up comedian and is really really funny…but she recently added a bit in her act which is not funny at ALL! She has started telling embarrassing stories about me! And while she certainly finds them hilarious, I do not. They’re embarrassing and annoying and will not take them out of her act even though I’ve asked her. And the worst part is she posts her act on youtube so all my friends have heard her stories and tease me about it now! Now it’s my turn to embarrass her in front of all of her friends. Please please please give me that chance!

-Nicole

“Oh no, so we have a babysitter and now a big sister! Right then, bring her in!”

The two crew members pushed a blue cage in, with 23 year old Elizabeth stood inside. She too was holding the bars in front of her and was pulling a fed up, yet half smiling looking face. Her hair was auburn, and went just a little past her shoulders, not as much as Eva’s did. She was more full figured than she was skinny, and was a little busty. This was evident from her firm fitting blue GYOB top. Just like Eva, she wore shorts which were a little looser than Eva’s. Her legs also looked very soft too, but she appeared not to be wearing even a hint of makeup. Her cage stopped and she shook her head at her sister and looked to Dave.

“Right then, hello there Elizabeth. Now, your sister thinks you’re really funny, and you probably are. But it’s not very nice is it to embarrass your sister?”

Elizabeth smiled and grinned widely.

“Well actually it is rather fun! I mean, if it helps me be more funny then…well, why not? Besides she’s joking, she loves to remember those stories too. And she isn’t embarrassed by the videos afterward online, she’s lying – she finds it funny too!”

Elizabeth smiled at her sister who looked away frowning.

“Nicole, I’m sure you’re going to argue that aren’t you?”

“Yeah. It’s DEAD humiliating. It’s not funny AT. ALL. She put a story in once about me going to school with no shoes because I was too tired and everyone loved it but me. What I think I would love, instead of embarrassing videos of stories about me is a really, really embarrassing video of my sister, covered from head to toe in really awful gunge. THAT would be a funny video -”

Elizabeth shook her head and went to the side of the cage near Nicole.

“Uh, no it wouldn’t.”

“Yeah it would.”

“No. It wouldn’t -”

Dave laughed yet intervened.

“Woah, woah, woah, save the sisterly rivalry till the games girls! Oh, Elizabeth is not in Nicole’s good books, and in fact neither is Eva with David! And that’s not a good thing at all, because if you come with me just over here you -”

Dave walked up to the camera and tapped it, and it followed him as he walked, animated, toward the Gunk Dunk behind.

“Because, later on this horrid stuff will be ready and waiting, why? Because one of those two ladies over there will be sitting right above it, admiring it’s colours and looks – in fact one of them will end up going head first into it!”

The camera then looked from Dave and right to the edge of the tank. The gunge was a vile looking mixture of greens and yellow, with bits of dirty greyish white splodged all over it. It was a horrible mixture of colours, and in fact looked as though it was some sort of vomit. It was bubbling today, and looked extremely thick, lumpy and even congealed on top. There was a very slight shine on it, showing that the top seemed to have thickened into more of a dense sludge, like old yoghurt in a pot. There were streaks of bright red and pink which made out the words, “Plunge em’ in the Gunge!”.

“Oh yes it’s the worst it’s been this series so far, see we haven’t cleaned it out for a long, long time!”

The shot changed to Eva looking back and then forward again, slightly smiling in the corner of her mouth like before but was biting her lip a little, seemingly put on edge on being reminded of the goo. Elizabeth looked forward again, a disgusted looking smile, and mouthing no, more to herself than anyone else. Both women were disgusted by the gunge, and both clearly anxious by their smiles, not to go in later on.

“Ha-hey! It’s very messy in there, but who will end up messy along with it? Time to play some games and find out! Yessss!”

Dave waved his arms up in the air madly as the first title card came on.

- Round 1: Wall of Gunge -

The camera panned down to show an inflatable course, which was quite large. There were a few walls and a couple of small trenches in it, which were filled with a bit of green slime. Scattered around were blocks, both blue and yellow ones. Towards the back, Eva and Elizabeth were both sat in perplex gunge tanks, and above each of them was a considerable amount of gunge. The gunge was the opposite of their team colours, the gunge being blue for Eva and yellow for Elizabeth. In front of their tanks were long rectangular holes. Dave came bouncing in at the front of the course to where the kids stood.

“Right, a good old messy game to get us started off here – this is wall of gunge! Behind me, and in front of our two nervous looking adults there are two slots for walls. But the walls themselves are scattered around this course. What both David and Nicole have to do is run around this slippery course, picking up either a blue or yellow block, depending on their teams colour, and construct the wall again. The walls have to be assemble properly so that the GYOB logo is correct – unless it’s correct, there will be no winner! Now the walls are fragile however, and our two adults back there will be throwing tennis balls to try and knock those walls down! BUT, if we look above their heads, there is a nasty surprise waiting for them!”

A camera panned slowly down Eva’s tank, first showing the bubbling blue goo above her head, and panned right down to her smiling ahead toward Dave and the kids, one hand on her bucket of tennis balls, and barefooted in the tank. It then cut to Elizabeth who was also barefooted, and she was adjusting her bucket and giving a firm, determined look at the camera as it panned up, to finally focus on the bubbling yellow above her.

“That’s right, there is a load of gunge ready to douse one of those two back there, but it depends who finished the wall and releases it first! 60 points up for grabs here folks, I’m going to get this game off to a great start – three, two, one, GO!”

Dave ran off the course as David and Nicole ran back and toward it. Both of them grabbed a block at the same time and made their way to near the tanks. Both women were getting balls ready, but neither of them actually threw any at the kids at all, but instead waited whilst the two children placed their blocks into the rectangle foundation. Nicole ran back through the course and picked up another block, as David did too.

“I love this game, plenty of gunge, plenty of fun! Now both of these two kids look determined today, and you know what? So do both of their adults there – neither of them wasting their balls on hitting the kids at all! Both contestants now though have slotted their first blocks in, and are just slotting their second ones in as I speak! Right both of – woops! Oh my, Nicole has slipped on that wall in front of her there – I think she is ok though, but David is now in front of her. His babysitter there is throwing a ball at him but he isn’t bothered as he slots in his third block!”

David ran back into the course as Nicole, slime spattered came back toward the foundation and slotted her third block in. Elizabeth now had let herself be a bit more harsh after watching his sister fall, and was pelting balls at Nicole with an evil smile on her face. Eva was throwing a few balls at the wall in front of her but it was hardly doing a thing as David ran up with his fourth block. He slotted it in place and corrected it whilst there, tasking a couple of hits.

“Oh now, good tactic from David there, so far he has four blocks and has also made the GYOB logo look right ready for later! That may pay off – oh! He slipped a little there but he’s back up and is getting his fifth block now, Nicole however is still slotting her fourth in place. She’s doing alright though but look at her sister Elizabeth – what a nasty piece of work she is loving throwing the tennis balls at her little sister! But as for David he is placing his fifth block in now – well done there David.”

David ran back, taking another hit from Eva who was now pelting her tennis balls as fast and hard as she could at the nearly complete wall in front of her. Elizabeth was mainly laughing, throwing balls at her sister when she came close and placing her fifth block in the foundation. She continued to as David came from the course with his final block and placing it down. Eva threw one more ball but was out and put her bucket down looking at David, her hands coming and slightly touching her cheeks.

“Oh David’s got all six blocks down now, but he just needs to quickly adjust it…and, there we go the GYOB logo is looking correct there  - BRACE YOURSELF EVA, HAHAHA!”

Dave’s laugh rang out, along with cheering of the audience. Eva’s face went from one of dreading anticipation to one of shock as the blue gunge from above spurted out from above her, hitting her on the head and going everywhere behind her. She let out a girly scream as it did, scrunching up her face with her mouth wide open and screaming. She even raised her right leg up a little as she was being gunged, more than likely a natural gut reaction from the cold and wet feeling the goo had. It continued to pour thickly and spattering everywhere to her sides, until it domed a couple of times over her, covering her wavy brown her. Finally, much of the blue sludge spattered forward and slopped over her face, and as it did she raised a blue covered hand up to her face which was now slathered in gunge, and held her nose as it continued to pour down. After a few moments, the gunge slowly stopped, leaving a coated Eva still and silent in the tank, the gunge had mostly covered her top, but some of it’s yellow colour still was visible, although messy. Some of the gunge had pooled in her lap, and was dripping down her slender legs, which she had now huddled up, her feet moving a little in a small puddle of blue. Dave came running in right next to the tank as she motioned both of her hands to her face to wipe the blue away.

“Now that was worth the wait! Priceless reaction there, and this is only the first round! Haha! You look GORGEOUS in blue there Eva – NOT! Hahaha!”

Eva wipes the gunge back and looked at Dave, mouth wide open but slightly smiling with a “How dare you” reaction written across her face. She smoothed back some of her hair and wiped out from of the slime from her lap as Dave continued.

“Great round there for you David, all six blocks are in place and your GYOB wall is complete, along with getting Eva a little messy! 60 points! And as for you Nicole, nice try but you only got five blocks there, but well done anyway, 50 points!”

Both kids cheered and Dave clapped along with the audience cheering. Eva was no longer smiling but was now wiping some of the gunge from her top and off of her knees. Elizabeth was smiling with sweet victory over her sister and of course the messy Eva to her right, taking in her counterparts situation with glee.

“Brilliant game there. You heard the points just then though, 60 to the yellows and 50 to the blues!”

—

Dave’s Bit On The Side: Yellows

(New feature I’m trying out. Not to do with the points or anything. It’s more to make the kids feel more real, and some extra humiliation to these adults who are based off real people. There’s not really a set format for these skits though, just a bit of fun!)

The title card faded to show the set of the Gunk Dunk, steaming away, but at the wall of it on a small bench, Dave was sat between Eva and David, and was peering over his shoulder. Eva was now clean from all the gunge earlier on, and had a fresh yellow kit on.

“Eww, you can hear it popping. Yuck, yuck, yuck, yuck! Right now I’m sat here with David, and our Eva of course here. This is just a small feature where I want to find out more about you guys. Be aware though, some stuff may come up that is HUGELY embarrassing for you Eva so I hope that’s fine.”

Dave said the last line cheekily like it was no matter for Eva, but the camera went for a close up that showed her smile at the corners of her mouth again, showing she was a bit uncomfortable already.

“OK, I have some simple questions I’m going to ask you David, all about some goings on when Eva has been babysitting you. Answer them as best as you can ok!”

David smiled big and nodded, loving the chance for some extra fun at Eva’s expense.

“Sure.”

“Alright then, tell me about the ketchup incident.”

Eva immediatley covered her mouth and let out a small but nervous giggle. David laughed and nodded.

“Oh yeah I remember that! Eva made me burgers for tea, which was actually nice. She made one for herself too but was kinda greedy and had extra in hers. She also put on lots and lots of ketchup. When she took her first bite though it squirted out a little bit and it went all down her chin and stained her top a little bit. She didn’t have a fresh one either and so for the rest of the night she was there had a stain and smelt a little of ketchup!”

Eva had placed her head in her hands and was laughing, half in humiliation but also because at the time it was actually quite funny. The audience was laughing along with Dave and David. Dave turned to Eva though.

“I thought he was meant to be the kid! That’s greedy though Eva, and making mess, tut, tut!”

Eva looked up and laughed again before putting her hands on her knees and looking at Dave.

“It wasn’t loads! It was just a little bit more.”

“Yeah that went on your top according to David!”

“Well…yeah. No I know. Ugh.”

Eva rested her elbow on her knee, and her chin in her hand and looked away smiling a little bit also going a tiny bit pink.

“Next thing I want to as you though David, is about how your dog loves Eva right?”

David began giggling right away, as Eva continued to look away, posed as though she was fed up but smiling slightly still.

“My dog loves her. Every time Eva comes over, my dog Dexter jumps up and on her all the time and doesn’t leave her alone. She has to put him in another room so he stops. But it’s really funny because if she is sat on the couch and falls asleep when we’re watching her boring films, I let him into the room and he jumps up to her and licks her lots. She always wakes up screaming, covered in slobber! Haha!”

Dave was laughing halfway through the story but continued to after it was done. He turned to Eva who was once again covering her eyes now with on hand, still resting her elbow on her knee.

“Aw, Dexter loves all those films with kissing in so much that he wants to kiss you lots too! Isn’t that cute, come on everyone let’s aw for Eva and Dexter, AWWWW!”

The audience did as Dave said and Eva laughed, but then held her head down, folding her arms across her knees and burying her face downward.

“Ew being covered slobber, reminds me of what will happen to either you or Elizabeth later on. Do you love Dexter to Eva?”

Her speech was muffled slightly.

“No. He’s a nice dog and all but he’s annoying and gross at times.”

Dave was smiling a lot and turned to David again.

“Well thank you for sharing about how Eva get’s covered in ketchup and slobber a lot. But if you do well of course you will get her covered in something worse than both of those things! Let’s go to our next game!”

- Round 2: “Shaky Singing” -

The title card came away to show Dave standing with Nicole next to a box. Behind them there was a large orange wall with hooks on, and by both sides of it were large mock speakers.

“Alright then, time for our next game. This is shaky singing! All our contestants have to do is grab a record from our box – bit like this, here we go – then run over here to the wall, so follow me, come on!…Bloomin eck all this running…right, once at this wall they put the record onto the wall like this, there! Ten points for every record on the wall at the end of the game. Simple!”

Dave began to walk over to the side however where Elizabeth was standing, next to a similar box and in front of a microphone. She stood holding her hands together by her stomach, looking at Dave with a sort of challenging face – to her, he was like an extra rival for the day, knowing that he was there to take the mick of her.

“But, here at GYOB it’s never that simple oh no. Because we have here Elizabeth who is going to be gracing our ears with her wonderful voice I’m sure! Nicole is your sister a great singer?”

“Ew no. I hear singing in the shower at home and the dogs next door start wailing.”

Nicole’s ‘as if’ expression, along with what she said raised a chuckle with the audience, and with Dave. Elizabeth shook her head, half smiling at her sister, staring daggers and then stuck her tongue out at her younger sibling.

“Right well you have the chance to prove her wrong – maybe – so don’t worry. Now the louder you sing, the more that wall behind will shake and so theres more chance of a lot of records falling off. Now you’ll be happy to know that your sister chose the track you will be singing was chosen by Nicole. And she chose for you to sing a great song, ‘You’re Beautiful’ by James Blunt!”

Elizabeths challenging expression suddenly crumpled and she put a hand to cover her face for a moment as she laughed in embarrassment and then shook her head at Dave.

“Great.”

“Right well just in this box here I’ve got all sorts and I have…let me find it…ah here we are, a balloon guitar for you to pretend to play and er, ah well here we go put on this blazer here…thats it! Not perfect but you’ll do! Nicole get ready, Elizabeth Blunt get ready too, 3, 2, 1, GO!”

Dave ran off, and Nicole reached into the box. The famous song started playing out, but Elizabeth wasn’t singing just yet. She was still shaking her head, moving awkwardly next to the mic and not being able to bring herself to do it. Meanwhile Nicole was now running to the wall with her second record, the wall not moving, and ran back for her next record. Elizabeth got out about three pathetic sounding words but then began to laugh again. Nicole put up her third record on the wall, which was again staying still.

“Now I love this game, but I usually prefer it with the singing. But by the looks of how Elizabeth is acting, it’s torture for her and that’s good enough for me! Oh hang on I think I hear something now.”

Realising she needed play along, Elizabeth began to start reading the words off the autocue. They weren’t really being sang, but she began to speak a bit louder and the murmur started to sound musical of some sort. The wall had finally began to shake now, and Nicole ran up to place her fourth record on the wall, but none fell off and so she ran back again. Her sister had started to get used to being in front of the audience and was starting to half sing a little bit to the tune, but her face was bright red and every few words she couldn’t help but laugh nervously.

“She is hating this isn’t she? Oh wow, well Nicole there is running up with her fifth record, the wall’s shaking a bit more though now – OH! There’s a record there that’s fallen, she better get that. Her can you here that? Sounds like a cat being strangled – oh no it’s Elizabeth! HAHA!”

The chorus came up, and Elizabeth, though looking like she was in hell, shut her eyes tight and sang it louder than she had earlier. The wall bounced a bit more and the record Nicole had put back on the wall fell yet again, as she put her sixth record on it. She ran to the record on the floor and picked it up, but another record fell at the other side.

“Only ten seconds left, blimey I need to get out there in a moment and stop this for the sake of our ears!”

Elizabeth shouted one or two words to the tune as Nicole replaced a record, but one more fell off before the klaxon sounded. Straight away the music and and singing, if it could be called that, stopped. Dave ran out and toward the wall.

“OK Nicole time to count your records, but before I do let me just say, I feel sorry for you having to put up with THAT singing coming from the shower every morning! Elizabeth right, that was so funny that, oh wow. OK, let’s see though how many record are left…1, 2 , 3, 4, 5…but that one’s fallen on the floor. Still, good score, 50 points!”

Nicole threw her arms up and cheered, along with the audience who cheered too.

—

There was a quick show of the GYOB logo and the camera once again showed Dave standing next to David now who was looking rearing to go.

“OK, same game, different team. That’s right it’s time for the blues to have their turn, and of course it’s time for our lovely Eva to prove her worth at the microphone. David, have you ever heard Eva sing?”

David pulled a grimace.

“Well…yeah but my ears hurt for a week.”

“Oh no, well you’ve been warned you guys at home! Haha, right now I’m coming to you Eva…just over here…here I am! OK, Eva now I’ve heard you’re a big big fan of Lady Gaga…”

Much like Elizabeth before her, she cringed and covered her face for a second. In all honesty she didn’t mind Lady Gaga, however the songs to her did sound silly and of course Dave would have some props. And some props he did as he pulled out a blond wig with long hair.

“Here we go stick that on…lovely! Now Lady Gaga often has a lot of weird outfits and stuff on her face so I have some assorted stickers here, the best we could find to be honest, so hold still for a mo!”

Dave quickly stuck the animal stickers on Eva’s face and then ruffled the wig. The poor babysitter stood with her arms at his side as he ruffled it, making it messy, and bits of it covering her face. Behind the hair, she was also pretty embarrassed at Dave’s ‘torture’, but took it in good faith and did not stop him. He then turned to run off the set.

“You’re singing Pokerface, so without further ado, 3, 2, 1, GO!”

Despite looking and feeling silly, Eva brushed the hair from her face and started right away singing. Her singing however sounded with half effort and was a little whiny, however she herself was trying to sing loudly as she could. After being covered with gunge earlier on, she would do everything she could to make sure she wouldn’t be later on. David had already placed a record on the bouncing wall however.

“Good grief! This may be even worse than Elizabeths singing! Oh no! Right well David has now placed his second record on the wall, well done there, he’s off for the next one. And look at Eva, you know she really does not want to go anywhere near that gunge later on does she? David placed his third on the – wait no he doesn’t it’s fallen already!”

David did a double take and replaced the record, but as he did the other two fell down. The wall was shaking a lot due to Eva’s singing, which was loud and sounded awful. It was however making hard work for her young adversary. He picked up the other two and ran back for another record, but as he did the same two fell again. He came back to put the record he had on the wall, and replaced the other two but once again another fell.

“Eva is doing a really good job I must say, she might look daft but she is still trying! David’s put the other two back now, times nearly out but he’s off for a 5th one…Oh no! No, three have fallen, that’s bad luck!”

David ran back, putting the record he had on the wall, and managed to put one more up before the klaxon went. He sighed, exhausted with three records on the floor but two still on the wall as Dave ran in.

“Oi Eva, coming to you first!…OK now stand away from the mic, come on back! And just so you don’t get the chance to sing, HERE!”

Dave stuffed a cloth in Eva’s mouth, and then once again ruffled her hair up so it created a mess. Her face burned red and as Dave walked away shut her eyes tight in embarrassment and stood pathetically with her arms at her side, gagged and with messy blonde hair that was everywhere.

“Hahaha, only on this show can I do THAT! Now let’s see what’s here David…1, 2, ok only a couple of records on the wall, but still good try David, 20 points!”

David cheered as Dave smiled at the camera.

“Eva you did a good job, want to congratulate David anyway?”

The young woman shook her head, the wig getting a little more messed and made a noise through the cloth in her mouth.

“Mmff. Mmpph.”

“Didn’t quite catch that, but let’s look at the scores as they stand now! The yellows are sitting pretty on 80 but the blues have now stormed ahead with 100 points!”

—

- Round 3: “Pie Jinks” (formerly Goo Who) -

(This time decided with coin toss as well – can’t make my mind up who I prefer to go in!)

The camera panned down from focusing on the large Gunk Dunk in the distance and showed Dave standing between Eva and Elizabeth. All three were looking behind them until the camera came closer.

“I’ll tell you ladies it’s horrible that stuff, it really is! You will hate it in there!”

Behind them, at the gunge tank, one of the two gungs started squirting some green into the pool, the goo mixing in with the already greenish yellow colour, and making it look even more vile.

“Ew, right well time to see who may be getting closer to going in that gunge, follow me girls!”

—

He walked forward along with the two adults and toward a table and pie booth which was now featured in every episode. The table was full of pies as always, and there were two water pistols on the table too.

“I love this part of the show, and I’m sure you guys at home will too. Both Eva and Elizabeth will have the chance to say why their opposing counterpart should go into the gunge that’s sitting over there behind us. The audience will then have a chance to vote on who they want to see in the goo later on, and then…well, I’ll explain the rest of it then! Now Eva, you’re going to go first if that’s ok, look to that camera there and on the count of three tell us why Elizabeth should go in the gunge! 3, 2, 1, go!”

Eva smiled and took a deep breath getting ready and then started.

“Embarrassing sisters are the worst, let’s face it. The stories she tells about Nicole are out of order and really humiliating, she has no right either so she should be punished! And plus, they’re not even funny, in fact it’s far from it so she should go -”

The klaxon sounded and Eva stopped right away mid sentence. She took a step back for a moment though and smiled over at Elizabeth who was shaking her head. Dave nodded his head and exclaimed that it was a good try and then faced Elizabeth with the same terms. She couldn’t wait to have her say and the starting klaxon sounded.

“Well I think babysitters are worse than sisters. In Eva’s case though she is SO BORING. Imagine watching a film with smooching in all the time, and having to sit through it while she plays on her phone? I mean that’s so lazy and so unfair to the kid, she should be gunged -”

The klaxon sounded again and Elizabeth smiled, folding her arms and nodding her head in satisfaction. Dave stood for a moment with his hand on his chin.

“You know you two are evenly matched there if you ask me. Not sure who I would go for, but it’s up to the audience of course on who goes in! Right well let’s start with Eva. If you want the babysitter from hell go in, cheer now!”

The studio was filled with noise, not the loudest it had ever been, but was still pretty noisy. Eva folded her arms and looked around with a fed up looking smirk on her face. Dave called for silence and waved his hands downward.

“Quite loud there. OK, if you want to see our annoying big sister go in the gunge, shout now!”

Again the audience cheered and the studio filled with noise. This time though, it wasn’t nearly as loud as it had been for Eva, and Elizabeth took pride in this by throwing her arms up and shouting “Yes!”. Eva though folded her hands and looked down, not looking forward to the next part as Dave began to lead her over to the pie booth.

“So everyone here would love to see you Eva take a good and messy trip down into that horrible gunge! So in that case you have to step in here, so stick your head and arms through…that’s it, and here’s two small water pistols for you, although you can’t do much with them! OK I’m going to come over here now to Elizabeth. Now, you have a simple task – throw these sloppy pies over at Eva! Think you can do that?”

“I think I can Dave yeah, I use to be good at throwing things in sports!”

“Oh, did you hear that Eva? That’s not good! Every pie that hits Eva in the face will add on 10 points to David’s score, thus increasing the chances of Eva going in later, and you staying dry Elizabeth. Ready, you only have 20 seconds. 3, 2, 1, THROW!”

Dave backed out of the way as Elizabeth picked up the first of the pies and chucked it at the booth. Eva had scrunched up her face as soon as the first pie was picked up, but was engulfed right away with cream from the pie. She couldn’t do much but stand there as a second came flying in, hitting her. As it slowly fell away, she opened her mouth for a moment for air, a dark “O” in the cream on her face, but was hit by a third pie from Elizabeth. As the pie once again fell away, her mouth was now filled with cream ,which she spat out of her mouth, and it fell down her slightly protruding chin. The audience was now counting down, however a pie came flying in, splattering her forehead and causing cream to fall. The klaxon went and she allowed her self to open her eyes but squealed as one final pie covered her in even more cream, even having been thrown after the klaxon.

“OK Elizabeth stop with the throwing, stop, stop, stop!”

Dave came beside the older sister, and behind them in the booth Eva stood with her mouth wide open, spitting out the last of the cream and breathing heavily. She could see, but could feel every eye upon her, and every smile and bit of giggling focused on her predicament.

“Well done there Elizabeth, every pie you threw hit! Now you threw 5, however one hit her after the klaxon and we can’t allow that I’m afraid, do that’s 40 points we add onto Davids score, bringing the yellow team up to 120 points, well done!”

Dave looked to his side though and to Elizabeth, half smiling at noticing Eva no longer in the booth.

“But I think we should let Eva make up for that last pie, don’t you?”

He then motioned behind her and she turned.

“What no wa – MMF!”

The cream covered Eva planted a pie directly at arms length into Elizabeths face, causing a huge cheer from the audience. As the startled young woman backed up a little bit, her expression was of shock, her mouth wide open and clearing her eyes.

“UGHHH WHAT, THAT’S NOT FAIR!”

Dave laughed as the freshly pied Elizabeth growled a little and Eva began to wipe some cream from her cheeks, smiling.

“Right well the new scored now are 100 to the blue team, but back in the lead are the yellows with 120!”

Dave quickly hopped off the screen as the next title card came on.

—

Dave’s Bit On The Side: Blues

It came away to reveal Dave sat on the bench in front of the gunge, now in between the blue team. Elizabeth had her arms folded on her knees watching Dave with another challenging look, and on the other side, her younger sister Nicole was smiling at the camera. Dave shuffling his cards in his hand.

“OK, here we are once again sat in front of the gunge, just checking to see it’s becoming nastier for the adults later on. We’re also here though for the next part of my little interview into the teams. Just as before, I’m going to ask Nicole a couple of questions to see what life is like with you two sisters. Once again, Elizabeth, these may turn out to be a little embarrassing for you -”

“HA. Do your worst Dave, my sister is the one who people laugh at when I tell jokes about her.”

“Ooooh! Bit stroppy there! Well this is all true and people may end up laughing at you, you know! You ready to dish the dirt on your sister Nicole?”

“I can’t wait!”

“OK, what happened on a family holiday a couple of years back?”

Elizabeth, snorted as though the question was pathetic, and stared at her sister unfazed.

“We were all at the beach, and it was fun apart from Elizabeth chucking sand at me. But anyway eventually, we decided to paddle our feet in the water. But when we were in there, there was some fish of some sort too I think. Like a big baby, she suddenly screamed lots and tripped up into the water with a splash. Oh my God it was so funny. She got up screaming, all sopping wet and ran out claiming she had been bitten or something by a crab, and it was even funnier because there was some seaweed stuck to her bum on her shorts as she ran out, but we never told her about it and the whole day she walked around like that.!”

Dave was nearly in tears and the audience were chuckling along with Nicole quite a lot. Her sister though was staring at her, shaking her head and sighed.

“Well it bit me hard.”

“Oh my, that is funny, and well no no Elizabeth, it’s the fact you walked around with seaweed stuck to your bum, ALL DAY! Hahahaaaa! Great story there Nicole, I’m sure she looked right silly!”

“It’s not funny to laugh at my pain Dave, my foot hurt an awful lot after that.”

Despite this, Elizabeth was smiling slightly.

“You’re right there, I’m sorry. Deary me though haha. OK then Nicole, keeping with feet however, you have a bit of a big complaint don’t you?”

Elizabeth slowly lost her smile and shook her head, staring daggers at her younger sister again like she had earlier.

“I do yeah. See the thing is, whenever we’re in the house, she always walks around barefoot, being too lazy to put anything on her feet. The thing is though, like a typical sister her feet really do stink a lot. She keeps sayin -”

“THEY DO NOT.”

“THEY DO. She keeps protesting it all the time, but she can’t deny it. Our auntie and uncle once came around unexpectedly, and they complained there was a bad smell in the house. My sister tried to tell them a lie but even our parents laughed at it and said that it was Elizabeths filthy feet! It’s because of all the running she does outside, and doesn’t bother to wash them!”

The audience and Nicole were laughing at Elizabeth as she opened her mouth, sighing in annoyance and closed her eyes. She started to go a little pink and shook her head. Dave however pulled a right face at her.

“Eeuurghh! That is horrible! Come on everyone, EWW!”

Much like earlier, the audience joined Dave in an overreactive sound of disgust. Elizabeth was embarrassed but didn’t accept it quietly.

“THEY DO NOT SMELL. These are lies, they’re nice and fresh, honestly!”

Dave immediately stood up however, leaving the protesting Elizabeth and jogged over the the front row of the audience where a young boy was sitting and Dave kneeled down.

“Who are you?”

“Eddie. I’m Nicole’s best friend.”

“You go around her house an awful lot and see her sister sometimes, what do you say, is Elizabeth telling the truth by saying her feet are fresh?”

“No way! When she walks into Nicole’s room to bug her, a disgusting scent follows her. I think they might smell worse than your gunge!”

Elizabeth had given up and folded her arms, pulling a red and mockingly angry face as Dave sat back down.

“Well it’s been fun to learn about you guys – although, not nice to learn about you’re horrible feet Elizabeth. They may be smelly at the moment, but later on you might end up the same way because of that stuff right behind you! Time now though everyone for our last game!”

- Round 4: “Dodgy Diner” -

Dave and the two kids stood between two tables, with an assortment of tables behind them and the Gunk Dunk set visible in the back of the large studio. To either side of them stood one of the adults, both wearing chef hats and aprons. Eva was stood with her arms at her sides and was waiting patiently, whilst Elizabeth stood with her hands on her hips and looking ready to play. She did however fiddle with her hat a couple of times as Dave started up.

“Alright then time for our last game now and both of our teams are ready and rearing to go. What both David and Nicole have to do in this game is run through this maze of diner tables like so…then to pick up one of these trays full of milkshakes…and then back over here to one of these tables. The trick is to try and have all of your shake glasses standing at the end of the game. 10 points for each one still standing however, both of our angry chefs at the sides will be doing all they can to try and stop our contestants from getting points! This is of course now the last game before the gunge. so I’m giong to get it underway. 3, 2, 1, GO!”

David and Nicole both ran toward the back two tables, but right away foam pieces of food started flying in from their adults. Eva was throwing hers as much as possible, whilst Elizabeth was more carefully picking her shots. Both however didn’t seem to care that their respective opponent weren’t actually carrying any trays, however as both kids reached the table this changed. David picked up his and began to swiftly navigate his way back, and Nicole wasn’t far behind, however as she walked back, a glass fell off her tray due to wobbling, but she placed it on the table with most of the glasses upright. David was already navigating his way back to the table at the back with the glasses, with Nicole in tow.

“Both David and Nicole seem to be doing a good job right now, not as easy as it looks this game isn’t to be honest. Both of the kids have to make sure that they have a very steady grip on their trays and don’t spill anything. Here we are they both have their next trays now, David I think has the slight edge here. Nicole has already dropped a glass earlier so she is being more careful now. Davids reached the table and placed his – OH NO! But look at Nicole! Oh bless, she got right the table but her big sister aimed a bit of food right at the tray as she did!”

Elizabeth had got a good shot, and the food had bashed most of Nicole’s glasses off of the tray, much to her dismay but she turned around and went straight back for more. David was already there, grabbing a tray full of glasses but as he turned around, he dodged a bit of foam food from Eva. This caused half of the glasses on his tray to fall off but he continued anyway. Nicole had now reached the table as well, turning around she spilt a glass right away but followed David through the maze of tables. Eva was throwing her food a bit slow now, compared to the beginning but wasn’t exactly a good shot, most of them missing her young contestant. Elizabeth was having more luck, managing to hit her sister more, but Nicole was trying not to let it phase her, only letting one more glass spill before she placed the tray on the table.

“Well done there Nicole, another tray on the table. You know for a woman who doesn’t want to go in the gunge, Eva isn’t doing a great job at throwing them pieces is she? Haha! Elizabeth though clearly is, and look she’s managed to get her sister once more – some of those glasses falling off. David has dropped a couple now on his way back to the table though. Not long left of this game though!”

As Dave said it, the audience were beginning to count down. Both kids were only halfway through the course though and so when the countdown ended, they were both at the far table and out of breath as Dave came running in.

“Stop! OK good game there guys, but blimey Eva you’re a terrible shot, you must not be that bothered about the – OI!”

Then audience, David and Nicole and Elizabeth all laughed as Eva cheekily chucked a foam sausage at Dave. Dave himself was half laughing as he pointed at Eva.

“Hey, wha – I’d watch it if I were you Eva it’s my show and I can do what I like, so you better behave! OK, come on in David, Nicole come on, let’s count these glasses. David let’s count yours first, oh my theres a few…1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10…11, blime..12. Wow, what a HUGE score there, 120 points!”

David threw his arms up and cheered, looking up at the ceiling as he did. It was a large amount of points, as Eva knew all too well. Sh was watching from the side and pulling a genuine grimace as she did a quick math in her head of the points. Dave had started with Nicole’s glasses though.

“Let’s get counting these ones then, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7. Good score there, 70 points go to you Nicole!”

Despite it not being as much, Nicole cheered anyway, but it was half heartedly due to her catching her breath still. She could almost feel though her sisters smug smile to her left as Dave looked at the camera.

“Some brilliant scores there, this is what the final points look like heading toward the gunge! The blues are sitting on 170 points, but in the lead with a whopping 240!”

—

The camera panned around from the cheering audience to a close up of Dave and the kids. Behind the, the lights of the gunk dunk where active and ready but the three of them were obscuring the set itself.

“It’s been a great time on the show so far today, and theres been a lot of point handouts also, but the best is yet to come because we’re now going to find out which of these two, will put their adults into a large tank of big slimey, sticky, goo! That’s right it’s time now for the Gunk Dunk! Yessss, hahahaha!”

Dave threw up his hands and laughed maniacally at the sky as the audience cheered and the title card came on.

- Round 4: “The Gunk Dunk” -

(The points were random through the show, but the rounds were decided on coin toss. Despite it being a 60 gap, I think I’ll leave it to only one notch head start as normal.)

As the title card fell away, the camera was right by the surface of the gunge, and looking slightly upward toward both Eva and Elizabeth, focusing quite close. Both women were sat on their chairs with relaxed postures. Eva was rubbing the sides of her upper legs, her feet were pointed into each other and looking delicate. Her nails were painted a very light pink. She was peeking over her knees at the gunge, biting her lip a tiny bit as she had done a few times during the show. Elizabeth had her hands in her lap, her legs looking quite beautiful along with Eva’s. She had shuffled her feet around a little bit, crossing on foot over the other.

Both of them though were nervous as only a few centimetres below their feet was the gunge. Over the course of the show the colours had mixed even more. The greens and yellow were still prominent as were some of the dirty grey-white colours, but some of the gunge in places seemed to have mixed into a light brown sort of colour. There were specks of brown now all around the vomit coloured pool. It was still bubbling as it was earlier in the episode, but as each bubble popped with a quiet squelch, the top of the gunge slowly wobbled. It truly was just sludge and mush on top like old yoghurt, in fact one of the crew had dropped a prop in earlier which had clung to the surface for a moment before falling in. When he had pulled it out, it was covered in large globs and swells of gunge, showing just how thick it was. Underneath though it was more than likely more slimey, along with the cannons which usually sprayed out in the finale. This meant there would be a contrast of sliminess and thick sludge. Both of the girls however didn’t really want to find out the contrast though as Dave got to his podium.

“It’s all led to this! Oh yes, here we have bad babysitter Eva and sly sister Elizabeth both sat above my gunge and ready for the ultimate messy plunge! But how will either of them end up in there?”

As Dave spoke about what would happen during the round, the camera right at the surface panned up from the gunge slowly. It continued up, and showing just inches above a pair of feet which uncrossed and clung to the edge of the seat. It didn’t stop however, and continued up a soft pair of legs until it panned all the way to showing Elizabeths face. She half closed one eye and pulled a very fed up/craky looking face at the camera.

“The questions will be on all sorts of topics, and there’s 5 notches.”

The camera then changed again to another, which was the same sort. It panned up from the gunge and showed a pair of feet which were right at the edge of the seat now as well, looking as delicate and soft to touch as earlier. It continued up Eva’s legs until it showed her. Unlike Elizabeth though she didn’t pull a comical face, but instead pulled a quick sad and scared looking expression before the camera pointed back to Dave.

“So the first adult to get to the top, will be then chucked down into this yucky slop with a very big yucky plop! Hahahahaha! But! I want to hear what our resident joker things is the worst thing about this stuff down here?”

Dave turned to Elizabeth, who laughed a little nervously and then looked down at the gunge. Immediatley she looked back at him.

“It stinks.”

“No question about it there! It does smell pretty bad yeap. Just how we like it! But, Eva, you’re always playing boring films for David when you’re babysitter and frankly, well I mean he thinks they’re gross. What about this stuff now, do you think this stuff is gross?”

Eva smiled a little at Dave and then leaned forward to look at the mess. She took a moment and hunched up her shoulders, shaking her head and trying to say something, anything about the stuff in front of her.

“Er…well…uhm…”

“It’s not very nice is it Eva?”

“Uh…No, haha. No it really isn’t, it looks pretty…nasty.”

“It’s very nasty Eva, very nasty indeed. And hey, you might be the one to find out just how much, because seeing as David’s points have been really high, we’re going to rise you up high too. Up you go one whole notch Eva!”

As soon as Dave said it Eva closed her eyes, opening her mouth wide open in a reluctant smile and tilting her head away from him as she rose up. It came to a stop and she closed her mouth, brushing her hands up and then down her upper legs again.

“I don’t think she liked that one bit! Good! OK, without further ado, let’s see who’s going to be flung into the goo! Got the tricky questions here, first one. What number makes up a dozen?”

There was a moment of silence until a buzzer went off. Nicole had pressed her button faster then David, causing Elizabeth to roll her eyes and look at her sister.

“Twelve.”

“Twelve is correct, up you go Elizabeth!”

“Is it not Thirteen? I thought it was Thirteen.”

Elizabeth tried to put on a quizzing look as she rose up and looked back and forth at Dave and her sister. Dave was adamant though and corrected her saying that she was getting confused with a bakers dozen.

“Next question, on what continent is Egypt?”

This time the bell of the yellow podium sounded as David leaned forward eagerly answering with Africa. Dave declared it right, and as needed sent Eva up a notch. The babysitter simply looked down at the gunge and didn’t say or look at anyone. She wasn’t smiling as much as before though, suddenly feeling every eye in the studio on her.

“OK 2 – 1 to the yellows there. Next up, what colour is a cabbage – oh straight away David!”

“Green.”

“That’s right, up you go Eva! Bit of a weird question that was actually.”

Eva once again stared blankly at the gunge, however she started biting her lip a little now, and then looked at Dave as he leaned toward her and spoke.

“Hey if you go in this Eva you will be as green as a cabbage! Hahaaa!”

At this Eva smiled and closed her eyes, then covered them with her left hand and laughed quietly but nervously as Dave continued.

“What instrument did the musician Beethoven play?”

There was again, silence until the yellow bell sounded again. At this Eva closed her eyes again and looked down, an annoyed smile on her face as she sighed.

“David, right away!”

“Was it a piano?”

“Eva was it a piano do you think?”

The young babysitter looked down at her knees and pulled another worried grimace. She put her hands in her lap and cringed at the embarrassment, and then nodded knowing full well it was a piano. Dave declared it right and once more she was lifted up. At this, she cracked a little into embarrassed laughter and kept her eyes closed as the chair stopped.

“4 notches to 1 now over here, just one more notch and Eva could soon be going down there, eww! But you’re just happily chilling aren;t you Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth laughed and nodded, looking at Dave and smiling. She had been enjoying watching Eva go further up.

“I am yeah, I think she has a good chance of going in. Can’t wait.”

“Oh well we will see, stranger things have happened on this show, believe you me. OK, another question now, who is the boy that will never grow up, with a fairy named – OH DAVID!”

David was jumping at his podium as he pressed the button. Eva meanwhile had covered her mouth and was looking at him, and then to Dave and back to him.

“Peter Pan!”

“Is the right answer, we all know what this means, and Eva does as well! What do we do!”

“Ugh NO…No.”

Dave held up his right hand and grinned as the audience cheered. Eva’s chair rose upward and on it sat a very different Eva all of a sudden. As it rose up she pulled a worried and upset looking face, watching the gunge go further away and then out of view as the chair rolled backward on the ramp at the top. It came to a halt and the sirens blared out, Eva shuffling her feet close to each other in fear and digging her fingers into her upper leg a little. Elizabeth meanwhile was enjoying her escape, clapping and cheering with the audience. Dave spoke up though finally.

“Ohhh Eva, there you are at the top. But we will deal with you in a moment. Elizabeth! You’re very happy!”

“Oh I am, I really am!”

“You get on your sisters nerves quite a lot with your jokes and all at her expense, and you could have easily been the joke today but you’re not, you’re clean and you’re going home dry. Have you had fun with us though?”

“Yeah I have Dave, it’s been really good to be honest. Got new material for  -”

Dave began to laugh and cut her off, turning to her sister.

“Oh for goodness sake, Nicole you can take one of those pies from earlier and threaten her with it if need be. Have you had a good time with us today though?”

Nicole smiled, nodding even though she was disappointed.

“Yeah, I have thank you.”

“Good stuff, good stuff, now you can both be witness to this. I think you will enjoy it!”

Dave looked up at Eva who was looking at her hands, pulling the same face as before. She could suddenly smell the gunge below strongly, and although she couldn’t see it, all she could think about was the congealed sludge. She suddenly thought about her hair, which was long and at her shoulders, how cold the goo might be on her legs and feet, the smell of it following her around even. She felt a shiver on her legs and up her spine, and felt her cheeks burn.

“Now look up here. Eva isn’t looking to pleased at all. And so she shouldn’t! David. Your babysitter is the worst in the world isn’t she? She comes in, and never lets you have any fun at all, she sits there talking and texting all night on her phone while you watch really boring movies, which you said and I quote ‘stink’. You’ve had enough of it and got her above this extremely smelly gunge now, so have some fun, and make Eva really smelly too! Pull that lever and Get Your Own Back!”

David cheered and threw back the lever. Sparks flew at the top of the ramp as Eva moved closer to the edge of the drop. She was digging her fingers into her legs as it got nearer and nearer. Her face was full of humiliated fear, and she curled her toes around the edge of the seat. She could be heard over all the cheering however, protesting at the situation.

“Oh no, no…NO…N – “

Her last ‘no’ turned into a high whimper as the chair got to the drop and fell downward, Eva on top. It dropped suddenly that she bobbed on it for a moment, her hair bobbing with her a little. She continued to whimper as she descended, but as she neared the bottom, she began to put her hand to her nose. Right before she did though, the chair for a second moved slower and there was a sudden squirt of bright pink. It covered the right side of her face and a bit of her hair, causing her to scrunch her eyes right up, and open her mouth wide, screaming. She continued to scream as the chair continued and catapulted her off a moment later. She fell forward through a stream of blue and yellow, coming out the other side and going into the gunge face first. Her scream gurgled out, and there was a loud ‘spludge’ as she hit the surface, but it she slowed a little due to the thickness of the congealed goo on top. She had been thrown hard though, and her legs, which escaped a coating but picking up flecks of gunge, went right over her. There gunge rippled and churned thickly in waves as two delicate and soft legs stuck out for a moment, and then started to kick. Underneath, Eva was met with a wet and very cold feeling slime, different from the sludge she first felt. She had her back resting on the floor of the tank, having done a front flip. On the surface however, both canons were spraying the kicking legs which were sinking into the gunge. They sank below the surface a moment later with a loud and disgusting squelch, one of the feet slowly for a moment rising back up, covered with gunge and then finally underneath the gunge. David was cheering like mad, along with the audience. Dave was simply grinning widely in shock and Elizabeth was clapping and cheering too. Nicole was covering her mouth, hiding a giggle. Dave spoke as he watched the surface wobbling and slowly rippling, a few bubbles popping on top.

“Ugh yuck, that was really gross and – woahhh!”

Two muck covered arms shot up from the gunge, with a coated Eva following. Her hair was caked in the stuff, having fall over her face now too, as she stood up, wobbly. She moved forward a little only to be hit by a stream of white, which domed over her. She waded slowly forward, and brought her hands to her hair, slicking it back and to the sides. Her face was also slathered in bits of green and yellow, and a bit of white was around her nose. She wiped her mouth, and was about to wipe her eyes when she suddenly wobbled, throwing her arms out to balance herself. But with comedic effect, she tumbled forward anyway, and landed face down on top of some of the congealed brown sludge near the wall of the tank with a ‘splut’. She lingered there for a few moments, sinking down a little bit, raising up. Unbelievably though she fell right away again as a cannon from behind blasted red at her. For the third time, poor Eva fell beneath the gunge with another squelch, much to the joy of the audience. She finally surface, freshly covered, her hair over her face again and drifted back into the middle of the tank slowly, clawing her hair back.

“David, you look like you had so much fun there – fun that she never allows you to even have. How do you feel right now?”

“INCREDIBLE! I’m so happy – WOOO!”

Eva, who had managed to wipe her face a little looked back at David and then back again. Her expression was of utter disgust at the gunge, which she could feel all around. Her legs were below the gunge, feeling slimy, and it was all in her top and shorts too, something that made her go a little red again. Her arms and hands, poking in and out ofd the sludge of a gunge on top felt heavy. Her hair also felt clogged with muck, and she was freezing. Adding to all that, the smell was stronger than ever. She couldn’t do much but sit there, cold, messy and embarrassed. She began to wipe her face slowly as Dave spoke.

“Well David and Nicole you both get some great prizes, a photo album of memories from the show, some GYOB goodies – Elizabeth, you will have to hang up a certificate to never include Nicole in your act again! David, you also get a fantastic t-shirt, with a photo of your gunged babysitter down there, which also has on it where to find her gunging online! You should play that everytime she comes round now! Hahaha!”

There was a sudden yell as a stream of red hit Eva below, it splashed all over her hair, and ran down her face, and she once again waded forward. In front of her though a cannon sprayed out yellow like a hose pipe and she was covered once again.

“Ohhhhh….ugh!”

There was a low groan as she turned away from the cannon, not knowing where to go. There was a weak spattering of red from above again as Dave went to close the show.

“And as for you Eva, you can stay in there. But hm, I think something is missing…David didn’t you say Eva usually gets covered in slobber from your dog at home?”

David laughed and nodded, as there was a sudden spurt from a cannon near the ramp. It squirted a thick and silvery glob of slime, intended to mimic dog drool, right at Eva and it splattered across her face. She wobbled back, her mouth creating a comical ‘O’ in the goo covering her face, and turned. For a final time she lost her balance and wailed quickly as she fell forward in the gunge again with a mucky spludge, face down in the gunge again.

“That’s all from us here at Get Your Own Back. I’ll see you next time where we will be ready to gunge more adults in this horrible big gunge! Bye bye! Byeee!”

The camera focused on the mound of goo that was Eva, which slowly looked upward, dripping with strands of thick gunge. She looked left and right as the camera zoomed out to show a very horrible, mixed up gunge. The final shot was of Eva bringing her hands to her face, wiping it and scrunching up her face in true disgust. She spat out some of the slime covered hair from her mouth and held her hand near her face for some reason, sticking her tongue out slightly in the process.

—

Eva really did get it bad there, but serves her right, maybe next time she won’t be such a bore and will late David have some fun. I have to admit, I didn’t really have a preference in this episode. I felt they both deserved the gunge, and both were attractive enough to go in. Even the sole part where I decide the outcome (Round 3) had to be down to coin toss!

Thanks to the two people who pitched the adults and reasons for being on the show!

I tried out a new feature this time, in an effort to make the kids and adults feel more real and there too. Would love to hear what you think on that if possible guys.

- MsM

This story is entirely a work of fiction. The story does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence. The events and activities described in the story may NOT be legal, ethical or safe, and this site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.

Chapter Twelve

When you’ve got this many police milling around a crime scene, it usually entails a dark red puddle and a chalk outline marking the bodily configuration of the unfortunate as the black rolled in from the edges of their vision. In this case, however, the puddle is paler in shade and distinctly sweeter smelling than blood, and the victim shuffled not so much off this mortal coil as off the stage, leaving behind a pair of pinkened stilettos and a trail of footprints.

A police photographer circles the irregular splatter, which extends over three metres in diameter, its extremities now semi-solid from the warmth. He could easily be snapping a new addition to the Tate Modern. The place barely feels like the same Town Hall, now that the audience have been turfed out, replaced by uniform and non-uniform officers diligently combing the aisles. Only the pink-splattered Miss Grumford stage backdrop (sponsored by HeadsYouWin^®), and the synthetic touch of my bikini underneath my hastily pulled-on shirt and trousers, remind me that I was competing in a beauty contest half an hour ago. The deflated quiet is punctuated only by a conversation between Penny Black – who has not wasted the petty opportunity of plonking her silicone butt in the Mayoress’ seat – and a Cockney-accented reporter who has finally given up pestering me for an “in’erview”.

“Yeah, her name’s Patricia Wang. Far too short to be a model, in my opinion”, Penny leans back and puts her feet up on the judges’ desk. “Very geeky too. Into science and all that… w..what’s so funny?”

“Heh heh, Wang!” The journalist, despite being grey and middle-aged, grins like a schoolboy who has just planted a whoopee cushion under the teacher’s chair. “Y’ know, i’s a word for a bloke’s rood par’, heh heh! No’ tha’ you ‘ear i’ a lo’ these days. I’s all abou’ dick an’ cock, ini’? Heh heh, Wang!”

I freeze in my tracks. There, amongst the childish guffaws and glottal stops, lies the answer to the riddle.

Patricia Wang… P. Wang… P. Cock… peacock. Classy, Assassin, classy.

Grace and I couldn’t have been more off-track with the Latin names. Smiling wryly to myself, I exit the hall and retrace Charlotte’s suspected steps. The way down to the under-stage space is on the same staircase as leads up to the loft. The room at the bottom turns out to be quite cavernous, and shares the loft’s musty smell, though it’s nowhere near as cluttered. Against one wall, a puddle of the ubiquitous yoghurt has collected. Cassie stands by the puddle, chatting with a freckled, pigged-tailed girl in a Forensics lab-coat.

“Hi guys, so what’s cooking?”

The girl from Forensics indicates a rather menacing-looking contraption against the wall, cobbled together from various pipes and valves, out of which yoghurt still oozes. “It’s hooked up to the mains water supply”, she explains. “The water is passed through this canister of concentrated yoghurt powder here, and is then blasted upwards. Pretty nifty really.”

“Operated by remote control”, Cassie adds.

“Remote control?” A shudder of uncertainty washes over me. We didn’t find any such item when we searched Wade. If the device was activated remotely then that weakens the case against her; it could have been anyone.

I go to the stairs and shout up to a uniform constable who is standing guard. “We’re looking for a remote control! Turn this place upside-down until you find it!” I then turn back to the freckled scientist. “Don’t suppose you found any prints, hairs, etcetera?”

“Nope”, comes the reply. “Nada, nil, zip.” I already knew that would be the answer, having been the case in all four of the previous incidents, but my heart sinks nonetheless. “There was this, though.” The girl hands me an evidence wallet, which contains two items.

One of the items I was expecting to find – the latest calling card. What I wasn’t expecting is that it depicts a human being – specifically a woman languishing on a golden throne, wearing a flowing green dress and a tiara over her short, light-brown hair. I turn the wallet over to find the customary V.P.A.F inscription on the back… but it’s upside-down. Well that’s odd. Could be an error, I suppose, but the attention to detail put into these cards makes such a sloppy mistake implausible.

The second item stands out for its plainness next to the decorative card – a white notelet, on which is printed in monospaced font:

Hard luck Ash! Let's see if you do any better next time. Seeing as you're struggling, I've made this one really easy.

Best regards,
The Catwalk Assassin

“The bad luck is all yours, Charlotte. There won’t be a next time”, I say, trying to sound triumphant but letting a wobble of doubt slip into my voice.

My phone rings. It’s my superior, DS Sambrook, informing me that Charlotte is ready for interview at the station. “I’ve gotta go to the station”, I tell Cassie. “I’ll be back later.”

Chapter Thirteen

“I had a feeling you was up to something, Wednesday”, Charlotte scowls at me diagonally across the table, between sips from a polystyrene cup. “That weird ‘make-up artist’ is a pig too, I s’pose?”

“We’re here to scrutinise your actions, Ms Wade”, I reply aloofly. “Not mine or anyone else’s.”

Charlotte is about to flash something back, but is cut short by the entrance of DC Sambrook, a stocky man in his early thirties. “Everyone ready?” He seats himself next to me and pushes down the chunky red button on the recorder (amazing – we have all of Cassie’s technical wizardry at our disposal, and we’re still recording interviews on cassette).

“This tape-recorded interview is being conducted at Grumford Police Station and may be used as evidence in a court of law. It’s Wednesday, the 14^th of May 2014, and the time is 13:52. I’m DS Tim Sambrook, and my colleague is…”

“DC Ash Wednesday.”

“And if the interviewee could give her full name…”

“Charlotte Amanda Wade.” Although prompted by Sambrook, the peroxide blonde keeps her grey eyes glaring at me as she recites her name in staccato.

“And the interviewee’s legal representative is…”

“Francis Halfpenny”, squeaks a slight, balding man opposite me.

Sambrook rattles through the legal gubbins and then commences the interview. “Ms Wade, during the time that the attack on Miss Wang took place, you absented yourself from the main hall, as witnessed by DC Wednesday and many others. Can you account for your actions during this period?”

“The Mayoress asked me to get her a tea, and so that’s what I went to get”, Charlotte answers. “Go and ask her if you don’t believe me.”

There’s actually no need to consult the Mayoress on this point, because I’ve already listened to the recording from Charlotte’s pocket bug, and it is indeed the case that when the Mayoress beckoned Charlotte over to the judges’ desk, she requested a cup of tea (skimmed milk, one Canderel).

“Yet you returned without a cup of tea”, I point out.

“Yes, well, before I had a chance to make it, I heard all the noise and went back to see what was going on. Can’t leave that lot alone for five bloody seconds.”

“We found the remote control, Charlotte”, I lie. “So you can stop wasting our time and tell us the truth.”

“I don’t know nothing about no remote control”, Charlotte rebuffs my bluff in triple-negative. “All I know is, I went to make a cup of tea, I came back when I heard the noise. That’s it.” She takes a draw from the polystyrene cup. “Speaking of tea, this tastes shite.”

“We take pride in tailoring our products to our customers”, I retort.

The squeaky solicitor interjects. “Whilst I’d love to spend the afternoon discussing the intricacies of tea-making, I’m more concerned by the fact that you have subjected my client to a very public arrest and deprived her of her liberty without a shred of evidence against her.”

“Fear not, Mr Halfpenny. We have plenty of evidence to discuss. Operation Cleanbreak, for instance.” I sit back smugly having delivered my gambit.

Charlotte snorts. “What’s that got to do with any of this?”

“Oh come on now, Charlotte. ‘the most spectacular event of the campaign so far’… involving the tank of shampoo in the stage-loft… a few hints leaked to the press but the details must stay under wraps? It doesn’t take Sherlock Holmes to draw a link.”

“You was up in the loft?! I knew someone was there!”, Charlotte exclaims.

“Yes, I think you did know, which is why you changed your plans. But I’ve got bad news for you, Charlotte; we’ve got an audio recording of you discussing the plot with your accomplice.”

“Lawfully obtained, I hope”, creeks Halfpenny.

“Lawfully obtained”, I assuringly nod, far from confident that that is the case (good thing he doesn’t know about the lipstick bug). “So you’d better tell us who you were on the phone to. And bear in mind that we’ll check with your mobile provider.

“Check away”, Charlotte shrugs. “It was Sir Christoph I was speaking to.”

“Conrad?”, I blink in surprise. Talk about the scandal going all the way to the top.

“Know any other Sir Christophs?”, Charlotte replies derisively. “Look, Operation Cleanbreak ain’t a plot or nothing. It’s just a silly PR stunt Conrad came up with. Basically, the tank of shampoo is gonna be lowered onto the stage, and the kids from Grumford Primary will each fill a bottle and present it to the second runner-up. It’s a lame idea, if you ask me, but Conrad’s the one who writes the cheques. He wants to make the point that HeadsYouWin is safe for kids. It’s had a lot of bad publicity, you know.”

“I know”, I murmur, Charlotte’s words squashing the remaining optimism out of me like the air from a crushed drinks can. Beside me I can sense Sambrook bristle. He knows what a howler I’ve made with this arrest. But to save face, and to avoid admitting error in front of Halfpenny, he presses on with the interview. He slides a sheet of paper across the table.

“For the benefit of the tape, I’m showing Ms Wade a list of the dates and locations where the assaults attributed to the so-called ‘Catwalk Assassin’ have occurred. Ms Wade, were you present at any of these incidents?”

Charlotte swills the tea in her cup as she scans the list. “Nope, nope, nope, nope. Don’t even know where Bi-cester is”, she mispronounces.

“Can you account for your whereabouts on the dates in question?”, enquires Sambrook.

“Honestly, I ain’t got a clue, off the top of my head. My professional and social life is very busy.”

“If you had put these questions to my client in more civilised surroundings, she could have consulted her records”, Halfpenny adds, an icy edge to his falsetto tone.

The prospects of pressing charges are slipping away by the second, but I’m determined to give the dice one last roll. “Do you enjoy your job, Charlotte?”

“What can I say? It pays well. Keeps me in Malibu and cokes and holidays in Magaluf. I get a discount on some labels, too.”

“And what do you think of the models you work with?”, I ask.

“You really want me to answer that? Put it this way, they’re not the sort I’d go on a night out with.”

Halfpenny twitches in response to my line of enquiry but I press on. “Are you envious of them?”

The beta pulls a face. “Uh, no. Why would I be envious?”

“We models attract a great deal of envy for our beauty and style, especially from women whose own looks are…” I flick back my hair. “…unremarkable.”

“Well not from me… hang on, did you just call me unremarkable? Whatcha mean, unremarkable?”

“Well, I don’t wish to labour the point”, I smile sweetly, “but you’re more Kevin Keegan than Michelle Keegan. More Dot Cotton than Fearne Cot…”

“CHEEKY MARE!” Charlotte springs from her seat like a jack-in-the-box, thrusting the cup forward. A luke-warm gobbet of bitter Police tea splashes into my face. Sambrook murmurs something that sounds like “good shot”.

“You’ve done it now!”, I splutter at the glowering Wade, blinking away the stewed brew. “Attacking a police officer…”

“No, you’ve done it!”, screeches Halfpenny, nearly splitting my eardrum. The weedy little man can sure pack some volume when he’s got a legal axe to grind. “It’s clear that you arrested my client on no other basis than your petty personal prejudices. I shall be filing a lawsuit for harassment, wrongful detainment, and defamation of character!”

Sambrook rests his forehead on his palm. “Enough! Interview terminated at 14:13.” He stops the tape. “A word outside, Detective Constable.”

“She’s guilty Sarge, I know it!”, I insist, as we close the door of the interview room. “Even if this Cleanbreak thing is a red herring, she must have been the one who planted the device under the stage. Who else could know where Patricia would be standing?”

“We have no choice but to let her go”, Sambrook sighs. “We can’t lock people up without any evidence against them… not in normal circumstances anyway.”

This case would be a lot easier if Wade were Muslim. “But Sarge, she’s planning another attack! She wrote me a note to say so.”

Sambrook shrugs. “Sorry Ash.” He reopens the door. “Ms Wade, you’re free to…”

I storm off down the corridor; I’m in no mood to hang around for Charlotte’s smarmy reaction at being released. My heart pounds with fury, but while I direct that fury at Charlotte, I know that its true target is myself. I know exactly where my next port of call must be – not that I’ve received any summons or advisory to the effect, but sure enough, the secretary is expecting me. I’ve no time to redress the damage Charlotte’s tea-slinging wrought on my make-up, and I hope that the stains on my white shirt aren’t too noticeable – nor my bikini underneath.

With a deep breath, I enter the office. The papers are still piled up on the desk, albeit reshuffled and repositioned, like a mountain range remoulded by the passing of millions of years. Amongst these clerical columns, the owl perches, hazel eyes piercing across the room as if trained on an unfortunate mouse. In this moment I wonder whether the Superintendent is capable of turning his head 360°.

“Sir.”

“DC Wednesday.” This time there is no invitation to sit down. A bollocking it is. “I’ve been on the phone to the Mayoress. She is very distraught”, Tawney informs me, as if that’s all that matters.

“I don’t suppose Patricia will look back on today with fondness either, Sir.”

“I knew I was taking a gamble when I drafted an inexperienced DC into this sensitive undercover role”, Tawney philosophises. “But even under the most apocalyptic scenarios envisaged in my risk assessment, I didn’t foresee as monumental a balls-up as this. Did you know that Frank Halfpenny is the most pernickety lawyer in the county? I’m going to have to call in a few favours at the golf club to make this mess go away.”

“I’m sorry for my shortcomings, Sir”, I grovel. “But with respect, I prefer to see this as a setback rather than a failure.”

“Then I’d hate to see what constitutes failure in your book!”, the Super snaps, his strigine eyebrows angling in a V-shaped scowl.

I persist. “We failed to stop this attack, I admit, but we can still prevent the next one.”

“Which will be weeks or months away, in some other part of the country”, remarks Tawney. “Some other Police force’s problem. We had our chance, here in Grumford, and you blew it.”

“Sir, the Assassin left a note saying ‘better luck next time’ and ‘this next one’s really easy’. It was addressed to me. That suggests a second attack here at Miss Grumford.” Tawney’s expression remains sceptical, so I add, “Sir, I think the next victim might be the Mayoress.”

That certainly made him sit up straight. “The May..Mayoress?” The eyebrows quiver.

I nod. “You see Sir, the latest calling card shows a woman sitting on a throne. A princess or a queen – a member of royalty. Now, not only does the Mayoress’ surname Royale have an obvious connection, but I did a check on the internet, and her first name, Sabrina, means Princess.”

All colour drains from the owlish skull. “Ok, th..thank you for the information, DC W..Wednesday.” Tawney bats aside a stack of papers and yanks out his telephone. “Hello, Sergeant? I want the uniform presence at the Town Hall doubled; the Mayoress is in danger… I don’t care if there’s a ram-raid at the jewellers; there can be a break-in at the bloody Bank of England for all I care! Just get your officers to the Town Hall and protect the Mayoress!”

With a curse most unbecoming of a Superintendent, Tawney shoves the phone back down, toppling another pile of papers in the process. He spends the next thirty seconds staring into the distance, respiring deeply and repeatedly combing back his silver hair with his hands. He seems to have forgotten I’m here.

“Sir?”

“That’ll be all, DC Wednesday”, the Super breaks his silence.

“I’ll get back to the Town Hall then, shall I?”

“No, your time on the Miss Grumford case is over. DS Sambrook is heading the investigation now.”

“DS Sambrook is a bone-headed idiot!”, I think aloud before I can restrain myself. “Sir.”

“Then he’ll do a damn sight better than you”, Tawney retorts. “You shall return to your previous case, DC Wednesday. The one you were anxious not to leave, remember?”

“Yes, Sir”, I reply through gritted teeth, and turn towards the door. Then a thought grabs me and I turn back. “Is Cassie off the case too?”

“Dr O’Pier will continue under DS Sambrook’s command. Her work has been exemplary.”

I think this is a little unfair, seeing as it was Cassie who drew attention to the red herring in the loft, and failed to find the contraption under the stage, but the point is beyond arguing. I slouch my way out of the office. As I reach the door, another idea pops into my mind. “Sir?” I know I’m asking for trouble, but since I’ve already dug this big a hole, I might as well smash my spade into the bedrock once more. “I wonder if I may continue as a competitor in the beauty contest. I’ve been one of the top scorers so far, so it would be a pity to bow out. Obviously I’ll take the time as holiday…”

Tawney’s head looks set to detach from his body, swoop across the room, ingest me whole, and spit me out in pellet form hours later. “DC WEDNESDAY!! Have you lost your marbles!? I don’t want you anywhere near the Town Hall. You hear me? STAY AWAY!”

Chapter Fourteen

I’m not sure which round of the contest this is, but the packed rows of eager faces in front of me indicate that it’s a popular one. At the judges desk, Wamdale sits wearing that disconcerting expression of carnal anticipation, the Mayoress buries her nose into a jar of smelling salts, and Conrad is his usual impassive self.

It comes to my attention that my perspective is lower than usual – lower even than if I had neglected to put on my heels – and I realise that I am bent forwards in what must be a most ungainly posture. I hasten to straighten up, but something hard prevents my neck from moving. Instinctively, I try to discern the source of the confinement with my hands, but my wrists too are constrained. “What the…?!” My social embarrassment yielding to panic, I twist my neck one way and then the other in a fruitless bid to free myself. Struggling to see past my loose, hanging hair, I can just make out the gleam of dark, varnished wood. It evokes a flashing recollection of one of the props I saw in the stage-loft, stowed away between annual use at the town fête. “I’m in the stocks!”

“The pillory, actually, DC Wednesday.” A pair of impeccably shiny black shoes step into my field of vision. I manoeuvre my gaze upwards to take in the shiny buttons of a senior-ranking police uniform. My eye muscles refuse to strain any further, but I know that an owl’s head is fixing me with a cold glare atop pipped shoulders. “The Mayoress is very distraught”, Tawney intones gravely.

“Sorry Ash, but we had no choice”, sighs another male voice from my other side. I swivel my head to clap eyes on the chunky abdomen of DS Sambrook.

“Harassment! Wrongful detainment! Petty Personal Prejudice!”, screeches a voice a good octave higher. Francis Halfpenny has appeared in front of me, denouncing me with jabbing points of a scrawny arm. Beside him stands Charlotte, looking like a cat who got the cream, and balanced in her hand is a large mound of actual cream, in the form of a pie.

“It ain’t tea this time!”, Charlotte grins, as she slams the confection into my prone face. The impact is simultaneously hard and soft, enveloping my features in a cold, creamy embrace – up my nose, between my lips, over those killer cheekbones, outwards and upwards into my hair and onto the top of my head. Surprisingly, the cream hasn’t obscured my eyes, though I rather wish it had done; the gleeful expressions of the audience – and above all Charlotte herself – set me burning with humiliation and rage. I stamp my foot – the only gesture I can muster in these restraints – while the three judges hold up numbers to appraise Wade’s performance.

If I thought that humiliation at Charlotte’s hands was bad enough, things only get worse as a trolley creaks into view, wheeled by a familiar vinyl-clad, silicone-endowed figure. “O. M. G.”, purrs Penny Black. “Look at you, Tuesday!” She bends down to the lower shelf and hauls out a towering, wobbling gâteau, similar to the one she brandished at Cassie. “Shall I?”, she asks the audience, drawing back the monstrous dessert in front of me.

The audience answers in the affirmative.

Penny, however, withdraws the hulking cake. The clatter of her stilettos on the stage recedes to a position behind me. “Or shall I?”

There’s no dispute that the audience favours this latter option. It dawns on me that I have no idea what I’m wearing behind the pillory, but as the gargantuan gâteau smashes into my behind, the answer seem to be ‘not a lot’. The layers of silky cream, velvety chocolate, and sticky fruit swallow up my entire ass, splurting up my torso and dripping down my thighs. The sensation elicits a half-scream, half-moan from within me, and the audience’s cheers rise in symphony. Again the judges raise their scorecards, Wamdale giving the spectacle especially high marks.

The ordeal rolls on, with my fellow models each stepping forward to participate in my public shaming. Kristina hurls a slime-filled balloon at my head with military expediency. The Grant twins stand either side and administer a pie sandwich. Lacey pours a bucket of something over my head, but due to inexplicable bungling, manages to miss with most of it. I slump there in the pillory, soaking up the goo and the jeering, but miraculously my eyes clear instantly after each dousing and pelting.

Next up is Cassie, but instead of approaching me she lingers by the edge of the stage, seven or eight metres away, perching a pie on her upturned hand. A hush sweeps over the hall and from somewhere a drumroll sounds. The blind girl draws back her hand. Her face turns upwards as if sniffing the air for a reference.

She won’t hit you from there, I tell myself. There’s no way she can. Keep quiet, Ash. If she can’t hear you, you’ll be ok.

The drumroll intensifies. Cassie arches her arm forward and pitches the pie. SPLAT! The hit couldn’t have been more accurately centred to give me a full white mask of cream. Wamdale, Conrad and the Mayoress hold up three 10s.

Now Patricia stands before me, attired in a dressing gown, her hair damp and matted, flecks of pink clinging to her here and there. She cups a yoghurt-soaked bundle of cloth in her palms. “I didn’t fancy eating my bikini bottoms”, she explains, “so I thought I’d leave that job to you.”

Before I can protest, Patricia stuffs the gooey garment into my gob. The yoghurt is of a cheap, artificial variety – oversweet and with a poor synthetic substitute for strawberries – but it’s the only thing standing between my taste buds and Patricia’s girl-tang, and for that I am grateful.

While I grapple with the yoghurt-soaked gag, a camera flash disorientates me further. I look up to see a fair-haired man wielding a camera. He looks familiar – the kind of familiarity you associate with some long-ago and vaguely unpleasant acquaintance, like a strict teacher or school bully. It is only when he speaks, in a soft Suffolk accent, that I make the connection.

“You’re doing great Ash! Just one more cake in the face and then we’re done.”

A muffled cry fights its way from my gagged mouth. I flash back to the home studio in the unassuming semi in Bury St Edmonds. The plastic sheeting on the floor. The buckets of slop hurled in quick succession. The cheesy script I had to deliver between taking pies. What is he doing here? Does this mean they all know about that shoot? (Does it matter if they know about it, given what’s going on right now?)

I follow the photographer’s line of sight, to discover the pretty, Afro-Asian countenance of my flatmate smirking down at me. “Gwaif!?”, I exclaim through Patricia’s smalls. So even my best mate couldn’t resist coming here to rub it in my face – quite literally. Grace clasps a chocolaty dessert below me, mere centimetres from my chin.

“Ash, would you like some chocolate cake?”, she enquires, tantalising me with the rich, shiny frosting. A blob of cream plops down from my pied face, white contrasting with the decadent dark brown. The aroma is overwhelming. Give it to me Grace, I want to say. I don’t care that hundreds are watching me; already they are melting from my vision. Smother me with that cake, Grace. Screw it into me…

“Ash? I got you a cake”, Grace repeats softly.

As the heaviness of the chocolate scents wafts upwards, the Town Hall continues to distort and dissolve behind Grace, like a plastic poster in a fire.

“Ash? hellooo, Ash? Cake?”

With a spasm, the dissolving aether snaps to the sharpness of reality. I’m in the living room of the flat, and beneath me is the lumpy softness of the sofa. Gradually, I recollect that this is where I sprawled out for a nap some time earlier. I test moving my wrists and neck, and find to my relief that they are unrestrained. I put a hand to my face and find it clean and dry.

“Ha ha! I knew the smell of chocolate would wake you up”, chuckles Grace. “Hey, are you ok?”

“Yeah, had a weird dream, that’s all.” A least I think it was a dream. I apprehensively scrutinise my surroundings, half expecting Wamdale to be lurking in the kitchenette.

“I thought you deserved a bit of comfort food after the rigours of the contest”, Grace explains of the cake. “Plus, it’s an apology for my outburst. I just panicked, Ash; I don’t have the nerve for your line of work.”

“It’s alright, really”, I assure her. “Didn’t make any difference to the way things turned out. Still, the cake’s very welcome, but I think you should cut it into pieces rather than smush it in my face.”

“I was never going to smash it in your face”, laughs Grace, as she heads to the kitchenette. “Sounds like you’ve let the Assassin get to you. Glass of wine while I’m here?”

“Please, a full one”, I request, switching on the TV for the news. I almost drop the remote when the Super’s owlish countenance glares out of the screen at me. Am I still in the dream?

“…I can confirm that a 28-year-old woman was released without charge earlier today”, Tawney briefs the assembled press. “The arrest was made by an inexperienced detective officer, who has since been removed from the investigation. We remain on high alert…”

“Fuck off!” I punch standby.

Grace returns with the cake and wine. “I phoned Patricia a short while ago. She’s more or less cleaned up. In fact, she says the yoghurt’s done wonders for her hair, and she might start using it regularly. Oh! And you’ll never guess who I met while I was waiting outside the Town Hall – Mayoress Royale!”

My wine goes down the wrong way. “God G..Grace”, I cough. “You d..didn’t say anything to make the situation any worse?”

“No, I don’t think so”, says Grace, looking a little hurt. “I just apologised for causing a ruckus, and she said it was understandable given the circumstances. She really nice, Ash – speaks very highly of you – and she was interested when I told her I’m a science teacher. She started an engineering degree, you know, before her modelling career took off. Oh, and guess what else!”

Grace grabs her handbag and pulls out a paperback copy of the Mayoress’ autobiography, Royale Ascent – My Journey from Grumford Girl to Fashion Monarch. “I took this along this morning just in case. Glad I did.” With a proud grin, she hands over the tome.

I turn over the cover to reveal the Mayoress’ autograph adorning the title page in royal blue ink. Sabrina’s penmanship is, as expected, dainty and elegant, though I notice she’s smudged a few of the letters. It goes to show that nobody’s perfect.

“Well go on, read it out”, prompts Grace eagerly.

“If I must.” I clear my throat. “Dear Grace, may you always stay true to your name. Best wishes, Sabrina Royale.” My attention is then drawn to Oxfam, 99p, scrawled in pencil at the top of the page. “You should have rubbed that out!”, I scold, pointing to the graphite insult.

“If she saw it she didn’t say anything”, Grace shrugs. “So whadaya think, Ash? Sweet autograph, huh?”

“Yeah, it is”, I nod, hoping my jealousy isn’t obvious. “Shame she smudged it though.”

“Ah well, I can’t complain. I’m a terrible smudger myself, especially with a fountain p…” Grace is interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. “Wonder who that can be?” She gets up.

I wonder too, and I’m not optimistic. If it’s that Cockney repor’er cum rand wan’ing an in’erview, he’ll get the cake in his face and a knee in his nuts.

“Someone to see you, Ash.” The visitor led in by Grace isn’t a journalist, Cockney or otherwise, but a certain spindly blonde from the competition.

“Fis… Carley, hi!” I get to my feet and make the introductions. “Have a seat. Umm, would you like any wine or, uh, cake?”, I ask, already knowing the answer. I’m rather embarrassed that such a saintly dieter has caught me in the act of consuming such calorific treats.

“No thanks.” Carley remains standing and brushes back a wisp of hair with a bony arm. “I’m sorry to disturb you at home. I found your address in the Phone Book; there aren’t many Wednesdays in Grumford. I came because I have urgent information that might help you with your enquiries.”

“Not my department anymore”, I smile ruefully. “You need to contact Grumford Police Station and ask to speak to DS Tim Sambr…”

“It’s about the girl you were with – your make-up artist”, Carley blurts. “I knew I’d seen her before, and I now I remember where. She was at the Thomas Queen shoot in Bicester.”

I shake my head. “She can’t have been. You see, Cassie doesn’t work in the fashion industry. Hell, she doesn’t know her Prada from her Primark. She’s actually a geek from Police Tech Support…”

“It was definitely her I saw at Bicester”, Carley insists. “Same appearance, same dress-sense, same peculiar mannerisms and avoidance of eye contact. I noticed her doing something on the bridge before the shoot; she was fiddling with some kind of toolkit. I should have said something sooner, but what with all the drama that day, I forgot all about it…”

And so Carley continues her account of that fateful photo-shoot. She sure seems convinced in her IDing of Cassie; in fact, I reckon she’d bet her bathroom scales on it. As her testimony winds on, a chill wraps over me. What if the Catwalk Assassin has been operating under my nose – in my trust – all the time? What if Cassie deliberately distracted me with the shampoo tank in the loft, all the while constructing the yoghurt fountain below the stage? Remote control electronics – that’s her speciality, isn’t it?

Carley concludes and I thank her for the information. “You did the right thing coming to tell me. Please do stay for some refreshments if you’d like.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want to impose on you any longer.”

“Not even the tiniest slither of cake for the road?”, I offer, as I show my guest to the door. This girl needs to feed up.

Carley flits me a wan slime and bids me good night. Returning to the living room, I throw myself on the sofa and down my wine in one. “We have our Assassin, Grace”, I remark grimly. “Pity, I’ve taken quite a shine to Cassie.”

“There must be an innocent explanation”, says Grace. “Perhaps Cassie was trying to find the booby trap.”

“Uh-uh. The case file says that there was no Police presence at the stately home until after the incident occurred. And Cassie told me herself that this was her first time working in the field.”

“Ash, don’t go jumping to conclusions”, Grace warns. “You’ve had a long day and…”

“Left-handed – check. Technical expertise – check”, I mentally tick the boxes of the suspect profile between mouthfuls of cake. “Access to the infrastructure – check. And whoever left that message with the calling card already knew I was working undercover – check. Who else knew that apart from Cassie?”

“I shouldn’t encourage you… but what about Lacey?”, suggests Grace. “She followed you into the loft and overheard your conversation.”

“Lacey, the Catwalk Assassin!?”, I scoff. “That girl couldn’t plot her way home on a map, let alone a complex operation like this!”

“Ok, if you think it’s Cassie, then answer me this”, Grace challenges. “What motive would she have?”

“Easy”, I answer, recalling the conversation in the car. “She doesn’t like modelling and beauty contests because they concentrate on the superficial, on the visual. She resents that world because her blindness excludes her from it. Oh, and another thing, she solved that anagram clue real quick.” I snap my fingers. “Like that. I know she’s clever and all, but nobody’s that fast.”

This has morphed into one of those raging arguments Grace and I have from time to time, and neither of us are going to back down. “So you really think that a blind girl could attack Florence Reaping with half a dozen pies, then evade security guards on foot?”, Grace sneers. “And that she drew those cards? Come off it Ash.”

“Maybe… maybe…” I tip my head back pensively. “…Maybe she’s not blind at all. It would explain her uncanny abilities.”

Grace’s jaw falls wide open. “Now you’re away in Cloud Cuckoo Land! You can’t fake a severe impairment like that, not for months on end anyway. And didn’t you just say her motive stemmed from her blindness?”

“Er…yes…but…”

“See Ash, you’re not thinking straight”, Grace sighs. “Forget the case for this evening and come back to it fresh in the morning. Have another glass of wine and relax, hey?”

“I’m not sure I can relax”, I fret, “thinking about how that girl will be back in the Town Hall tomorrow, with the Mayoress at her mercy.”

“Sleep on it, Ash”, pleads Grace. “If you’re still concerned in the morning, you can tell your colleagues about your suspicions.”

I shake my head. “No way. Even if they take me seriously, I’m not having that dolt Sambrook take the credit for catching the Assassin. I’m going to do this my own way. Screw Tawney’s orders; I’m going back to the Town Hall and I’ll damn well catch that girl red-handed!”

Grace’s expression grows yet more worried. “I think I need another glass of wine”, she remarks, getting to her feet. “You should be careful. If you jump the gun and make a second wrongful arrest, it could be curtains for your career.”

“Fear not, I’m going to set up a trap and let her incriminate herself. Cassie may be clever, but she has her blind-spots, pun intended.” As I sit brooding over the last crumbs of chocolate cake, the excitement of my epiphany turns to anger. It isn’t just those messy models that Cassie has humiliated; she’s made a fool out of me too. The esteem my colleagues held for me has been tarnished, and the national media are now portraying me as a bungling bobby with boobs for brains. Meanwhile, she’s getting praised for her “exemplary” work.

“What’s more, I’m going to give Cassie a taste of her own medicine”, I announce.

“You don’t mean…?” Grace sticks her head out from the kitchenette. “Now Ash, don’t be harsh. She is blind, after all.”

“So what?”, I shrug sweetly. “I’m all for equal opportunities.”

Public Domain

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Probably not my usual taste in music, though I guess appearances could be deceptive. I’ve only seen this one without the sound on.

Anyway, in this one Italian singer/dancer/general purpose entertainer if Wikipedia’s to be believed performs a song where she gets covered in paint (first from a roller then directly from buckets), then takes a clothed shower. Her hair and face don’t get messy, though I suppose that makes sense when she’s singing. Still, quite a fun little video.