My entry for the Ice Bucket Challenge Challenge. Featuring Jen, the main character from my upcoming new story series. This is a teaser of what’s to come in the future…

This Story Contains Strong Language 

Well, it looks like I’d better do this Ice Bucket Challenge thing then, I’ve been nominated enough times on Facebook already! Five nominations in total, so does that mean I have to use five buckets or just the one? Fuck it, I’ll do 5. It’ll be fun!

Right, I decided I would do it at work as I don’t actually have any private outdoor space back at the flat to do it in and I don’t want the inside of the flat to get soaked. Plus, I managed to find 5 massive 40 litre bins out the back of the kitchens that I can use. And this way, I can also raid the freezers for ice! I’m gonna make sure these buckets are freezing! ‘Why would she want to do that?’ you may ask, but it’s the kind of weird thing that I get a kick out of. I mean, nothing beats a good pie to the face or a jug of custard over the head, but I guess an ice cold bin-full of water also does the job. Also, this is one of the only times that I can get away with such behaviour in public without getting funny looks!

Ok, I’m gonna do it now that my shift has ended for today. Alex has kindly decided that she will pour the water over my head. Little does she know that I’m gonna nominate her so she can go through this too! Time to fill these bins up and get going…

I’m in position now,  all five bins are full to the brim with ice cold water complete with chunks of ice floating on top, the camera is set up and Alex is ready to pour. She’s loving this, and still has no idea that I’m gonna nominate her to do it too! Can’t wait to see her face.

Ok, the camera is rolling…

“Hey, I’m Jen and this is my Ice Bucket Challenge. I’ve decided to go all out and use five times the amount of water, considering that I’ve been nominated five times!” I’m starting to get a tingle of excitement in my stomach now, it’s gonna be freezing, but secretly I can’t wait!

“I nominate my flatmate Ellie Fisher, my friends Kate MacLean and Nicole Wilson and finally Alex, who is here pouring the water over me today.” You should see her face! She wasn’t expecting that!

“Right, here goes! Pour away, Alex!” Shit, here it comes. Gotta brace myself.

FUCKING HELL! It’s freezing! It’s only the first bin-full and I’m soaked. My white blouse had turned virtually see-through and my black skirt is now stuck to my legs, much like my hair is stuck to my head. Time for bin number two!

Ouch! There’s more ice in this one, it hurts when it hits you right on the top of the head! My bra must be fully on show now, this is gonna make a good video for all my guy friends on Facebook to watch!

Bloody hell! The next wave of water has gone right down my neck and down my back. It’s so cold! Alex is gonna pay for this when I get my revenge!

Oh shit! Alex caught me off guard there, throwing the fourth bin-full right at me from in front, soaking the front of me further. My makeup has started to run down my cheeks and I don’t think this blouse is gonna be able to hold on for much longer. My legs got a soaking there too, they had stayed dry before.

The final bin’s just gone over my head, forming a dome from the top of my head as it pours. And there goes my blouse! It opened right up and has fallen off my shoulders! How embarrassing, especially on video!

I’m shaking after all that ice, arms folded across my chest to shield the camera from my boobs, now only protected by a bra. My soaking blouse is now hanging basically around my waist and my skirt is completely stuck to my legs. From the outside, it looks like I hated that. Secretly on the inside, I loved it! You can always rely on a simple bucket of water over the head to do the job!

“Well, that was my Ice Bucket Challenge, it’s your turn now girls. I look forward to getting my revenge on Alex! Don’t forget to donate!” Right, time to upload this to Facebook for the world to laugh at. Then I better get dry, change clothes and head home.

SHIT! Just remembered, I wore my uniform to work today, no spare clothes! I’m gonna get some strange looks on the tube like this!

First of all, here’s whom you would have got for each option:

Suzi or Natalie: Natalie. Nothing to say really!

Best Friend: Clara Clark. Since “show, don’t tell” is such a big deal in writing, I’ll be brief. Clara and Kirsten have been friends for a long time and have a lot in common with one huge exception: Clara doesn’t like Black Veil Brides at all.

In-universe celeb: Bryony Dupree, an acoustic singer-songwriter whom Kirsten finds annoying. Bryony did a song about regretting not going on a gungy game show, and is in a currently unfinished story.

Real celeb: Jenna McDougall (Tonight Alive singer). I can see Kirsten liking her and her being game.

Real, mainstream celeb: Selena Gomez. Enough said.

As for the final results, I was a bit surprised that the two real life celeb options placed third and fourth. I wonder if outright specifying that the first “real celeb” option would be someone outside the mainstream would have altered that? In the end Kirsten’s best friend won the poll though, so that’s the story that we’ll get. I’ll be working on it throughout next week.

My 14-year-old self would have loved to see JLo messy back in the day. My current 24-year-old self will happily take this though. What are we taking? Clear, oily goo applied to Jennifer’s body.

The full version is out, but the song’s pretty much just four minutes of what you get in the teaser. You really don’t need to hear more than that in my opinion. The video, however, isn’t four minutes of what we got in the teaser. It’s kind of misleading in that sense. I’d also have oiled up Iggy Azalea…

Mutations – don’t you just love ‘em?

The ice bucket challenge meme has been a real boon to our community, with hundreds of “wish list” celebs getting doused alongside thousands of civilian vids. On top of that it’s raising a sackload of money for charity. It therefore seems churlish to find fault with this craze, but if, like me, you’re a messy fan who views wetlook as “WAM lite”, you might be quietly ruing that the challenge doesn’t involve something more substantial.

Well fortunately some participants have taken the initiative to add their own messy twist. There are also new crazes emerging such as “Pies for Parkinsons”. I’ve collected a few of my top pics below. Apologies if any are reposts; I’ve been away for a bit and haven’t had time to keep up with all the finds.

“Look at them, Phillipa. They’re such ruffians. I can not believe that we have to be the support act for them!” Those were the conceited words of Eleanor Constance Cleary, the guitarist and lead singer of indie-pop band Hymenium. She was 1.7m tall with a flawlessly thin body and flawless 34C cleavage. Her heart-shaped face was similarly flawless, with wide hazel eyes and a small nose which seemed to be pointed up very slightly. Her hair was flawless too, in curly blonde locks which reached down her body to her hips. As for her clothes, they too were flawless. An expensive-looking white halter top with matching skinny jeans held on with a black leather belt and golden buckle. She was wearing white pumps on her feet. The look was rounded out with a red plaid top, just for a touch of indie cred. A plain black guitar strap was slung over her shoulder, holding up her Schecter Banshee-6 FR Passive guitar – pink, of course. “How anyone could ever consider them to be musicians and not noisemongers is beyond me!” she said as she watched an all-female metal band performing on the stage they were hiding behind.

Phillipa Buckingham-Lennox was a little bit shorter than Eleanor, at just 1.6m. She didn’t look as flawless as Eleanor, being a blue-eyed brunette with short hair down to just her shoulders. She had more of a “girl next door” look to her. Were she not the keyboardist in a band, one could almost imagine seeing her in the street and feeling smitten. She was wearing a cute little red dress and brown cowgirl boots, almost like she’d applied to be in a country band and had been turned down. After all, most country bands wouldn’t touch a synthesiser with a barge pole. “I know! And can’t the blonde one afford any shoes?”

Eleanor gave a very posh-sounding laugh. “They all dress in such a cheap and classless way. The Chinese one’s trousers are all ripped.”

“They claim it’s ‘style’. It’s just ugly. Kind of like their keyboardist,” Phillipa smirked meanly, exchanging a high-five with her bandmate.

The band finished the song they were on and walked behind the drumkit. They all picked up buckets and walked over to the front of the stage. The “Chinese” bassist/lead singer gave an announcement. “It’s come to my favourite part of the show. It’s slime time!” The crowd cheered eagerly as the five musicians launched the buckets forwards, thick green gunge surging forwards out of them and splattering on the heads of the crowd below.

“What on Earth are they doing now?!” Phillipa scoffed.

“Sliming the audience. Just, so uncouth. Why would anyone ever willingly want to have their hair and clothes ruined by that stuff?” said Eleanor as she nodded in agreement.

“It’s probably the closest that these people have ever come to a shower, to be fair.”

Once again, Eleanor laughed. “You are sooo right, Phillipa! You can smell them from here!”

At that moment, another woman turned up behind the stage carrying a small tray with three plastic bottles on it. They were all blue and contained some variety of alcopop or another. She was wearing black trousers and a white tank top with white ballet pumps. Compared to the flawlessly thin Eleanor or beauteous Phillipa, she was a little bit more muscular, and had the shortest hair of the three – chin-length black hair with a fringe just above her blue eyes. “Smell what from here?” she asked.

“The smelly metalheads in the crowd,” said Phillipa, taking a bottle from the tray.

“Thank you for the drinks, Arabella,” said Eleanor as she took a drink herself. “No doubt that lot are violent lager drinkers.”

Arabella Hollingsworth was the third and final member of Hymenium, and she was the drummer. She looked a bit perplexed at the way her bandmates seemed to be talking about the crowd. “You can’t stereotype an entire crowd, especially one you’ve just performed for,” she said as the band on the stage launched into another song.

Clearly her words went unnoticed by Phillipa and Eleanor as they just laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

“They’re not going to hear us, darling! We can say what we want!” the blonde said, downing the contents of the bottle and throwing it onto the stage. The soft plastic hit one of the guitarists (a pale brunette) on the head, making her lose her place in the song for a brief moment.

“We’re going back to the tour bus. We’ll see you later,” said Phillipa, throwing her now-empty bottle onto the stage too before walking off. It narrowly missed anyone, but the barefoot blonde guitarist stepped on it and slipped, falling on her backside. She pouted and stood up. Normally she wouldn’t make a big deal of it, but that was one of her solos!

The guitarist stood up and glared in the direction the bottle had come from, aggressively shredding a discordant solo over the song. “YOU’RE GONNA REGRET THAT, BITCH!” she squealed. Thankfully she wasn’t near a microphone at the time, so it went unheard. The song ended shortly after and the blonde threw her guitar down.

“Becky, wait!” the other guitarist called out, running after the blonde, who was now stomping towards Arabella with some force. The bassist, drummer and keyboardist tried to smile and keep the crowd vaguely happy as pandemonium erupted. Thankfully they were planning to end the set after that song anyway, but it still felt awkward. They threw drumsticks and guitar picks into the crowd, as was tradition in rock shows.

Meanwhile, the two guitarists from the metal band were stood right in front of Arabella. “What’s the big idea, huh?!” the blonde demanded. “Are you jealous that we got to headline tonight while your pop group got some polite applause and nothing more?”

“Becky, please calm down,” the brunette said, placing her hands on her bandmate’s shoulders.

“She tried to ruin our set, Shel! Didn’t you see her throw the bottles at us?”

“Did you?”

Becky started to stammer awkwardly. “B-but she’s… I mean…”

The one they called ‘Shel’ just sighed. “No you didn’t. I’ll deal with this, you get a shower and chill with the fans, okay?”

The blonde guitarist looked to her bandmate indignantly. She then turned to Arabella (who was now cowering in terror) and said “This isn’t over.”

At that point, a tall and muscular man with a shaved head walked up to them. He had a yellow polo shirt on and a plastic armband with some kind ID card in it. Clearly he was part of the security detail. “Is everything okay? I heard shouting,” he said.

“I’m glad you turned up,” said the brunette. “Some people threw bottles at us from backstage, and I think this girl might have been involved.”

“I didn’t do anything! It was–“

“Calm down, and we’ll get this resolved. Michelle Massey from The Kayotics and Arabella Hollingsworth from Hymenium, correct?” said the bouncer. The two musicians nodded. “Okay, tell me what happened, Michelle first.” The two women gave their side of the story. Michelle said first how she’d been hit with a bottle and how Becky tripped on another, and when she’d gone after Becky to stop her going crazy, Arabella was the first person they found. Arabella then said how it was her bandmates who had made disparaging comments about the Kayotics’ fans and threw the bottles, with the security guard taking notes the whole time.

————

The next day was an off-day on the tour. Arabella hadn’t slept well. “Eleanor and Phillipa are my friends, my bandmates. I totally betrayed them,” she thought as she watched them sleeping from her bunk. “At the same time though, I’d done nothing wrong. It was all them!” She sighed and got up, her bare feet digging into the fluffy shag carpet on the floor. She looked in the fridge and found butter, ketchup, smoked bacon and free range eggs, all Waitrose. All the components of a delicious breakfast (if expensive for a touring band). “I hope The Kayotics won’t hate me either,” she thought as she got a loaf of sliced white bread out of an overhead cupboard. The smell of sizzling bacon awoke Eleanor. She got up, stepped into a pair of white slippers, walked down the static tour bus and took out her phone.

“Oh my gosh! Arabella, have you seen the Kayotics’ Twitbook?” she gasped after a few moments.

“No, why?”

“They’re slagging us off! How dare they?! Who do they think they are?!” she shouted.

Phillipa sat up and mumbled “What’s going on?” “Those metal rubes have declared war on us! They say we’re elitist snobs and regret ever inviting us on tour with them!”

“Who are elitist snobs?” Phillipa asked with a yawn. Eleanor tightened her grip on the phone. “I quote. ‘We are so sorry for how tonight’s show ended, but little did we know that a band we liked enough to invite on our UK tour were little more than elitist snobs-exclamation-exclamation-exclamation. The behaviour of the Hymenium girls was appalling, as they threw bottles at Becky and Michelle and called metal fans a bunch of dirty violent thugs, and that our allegedly-stupid signature gunge wave is the only shower that metal fans ever get-exclamation-exclamation-exclamation. Well we say that Phillipa, Eleanor and Arabella are hypocrites of the highest order. We did nothing to you, but you decided to spoil our set through violence. Who are the real violent thugs here-question-exclamation-question-exclamation. Once this tour is over, we want nothing to do with you. Fans, sorry I didn’t come out last night. I was too pissed off with these stupid girls. I’m still angry, honestly. Sludge, love and rock ‘n’ roll, Becky.” Her tone was simply oozing with derision and mockery.

Phillipa burst out laughing. “Oh, they are so stupid it’s hilarious! Wait, which one’s Becky? Is she the Chinese one?”

“She’s the lead guitarist. Blonde, doesn’t like footwear,” Arabella answered, her skin crawling as she heard Becky’s words through Eleanor followed by Phillipa’s laughing. “And for the record, Yumiko is not Chinese. She’s half Japanese, half English.”

“You almost sound like you’re their friend,” Phillipa smirked.

Arabella just shrugged and finished making her sandwich. “If you want a feud with them, whatever, but just remember that they outnumber you five against two.”

“Three,” said Eleanor.

“Two. I did not join a band in order to get into feuds with people.”

“Well, feud’s clearly on. We’ll put them in their place. First though, breakfast!” Eleanor declared.

Poor Arabella just sighed and headed for the door. She needed some alone time. Opening the door and sitting on the step, she didn’t expect to see someone outside. The person outside was a woman. Specifically, it was Kassidy. She was wearing an old Slayer t-shirt, some blue jeans with huge rips in the knee and black high-tops. The ginger drummer looked to Arabella with some wariness. “You…” she muttered.

Arabella looked at Kassidy remorsefully. “I don’t want trouble,” she said, taking a bite out of her sandwich.

“Well, Becky’s still mad at you guys. She doesn’t want to speak to you unless you guys are going to apologise.”

“What about you? What are you doing here?”

Kassidy shrugged her shoulders. “Michelle told me that you grassed your bandmates up. Is that true?” she asked. Arabella gave a nod. “I see. So, you had nothing to do with it?”

“That’s right. I would never do such a thing,” said Arabella, looking deep into Kassidy’s eyes. “It doesn’t fix anything, and it’s probably not my place, but I am so sorry for what the…”

CRACK!!!

Seemingly out of nowhere, an egg splattered on Kassidy’s forehead, clear and sticky goop spreading over her face and into her beautiful red hair. Arabella watched mortified as the Kayotics’ drummer took a deep breath and growled. Kassidy rather foolishly placed her fingers into the yolk, bursting the yellow bubble and making it seep over her fingertips and run down her face. Clearly, her attempt to get it out had backfired. “Get a shower, metalhead!” Eleanor yelled out of an open window.

“Oh my God…” Arabella whispered in shock. Kassidy’s hands formed tightly clenched fists.

“Arabella, come with me,” she hissed, walking over to the other drummer. Arabella didn’t even try to resist as Kassidy grabbed her under the shoulders and marched her into the other tour bus. The Kayotics’ tour bus was much the same as Hymenium’s, but with a few more bunks. It had all the necessities for living on the road, but was a little bit more unkempt. Oddly, Arabella felt a bit more at home in it, or she would if it wasn’t for four sets of eyes looking at her and the now-eggy Kassidy.

“What’s going on?” asked Chloe.

“I went over to offer an olive branch and this one’s little friends egged me!” Kassidy frowned, throwing Arabella to the floor.

“You’re joking,” sighed Michelle. Becky shook her head.

“What did you expect? They’re a bunch of brutes!”

“I had nothing to do with anything the others did!” Arabella said, looking at Chloe with pleading eyes. The Kayotics all looked at her in disbelief, with one exception.

“I believe her,” said Michelle.

“Why?” asked Becky.

“I said before that she told the bouncer last night that the others in her band threw the bottles. Why would she grass up her own bandmates? It’s simple. Unlike them, she’s honest,” Michelle reasoned.

Arabella smiled for the first time all day, until Yumiko finally broke her silence. “I did see who threw the bottle at you, too, just out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t her.”

“We still need to send Hymenium a message! They hit Shel with a bottle, tripped me up and now egged Kassie! Nobody messes up Kassie, other than the rest of us!” Becky declared. “Ararabella, isn’t it?”

“It… Not quite…” Arabella muttered, picking herself up off the floor.

Becky looked into Arabella’s eyes and grabbed her chin between her index finger and thumb. “You don’t really think the gunge wave is stupid, do you?” she said with a wry grin.

Arabella knew a trap when she heard one. If she said yes, the Kayotics would be offended and probably gunge her. If she said no, they’d probably take it as her being up for a gunging. If she didn’t give an answer, they’d press her into giving an answer either way.

“Not at all! In fact, I think that you should subject my bandmates to it,” she said, desperately trying to get out of the situation.

“Wow, Ararabella! You have no loyalty to your friends, do you?” Becky smirked and took on a more sultry tone. “Or is this some kind of fantasy of yours? If it is, I totally get it. Your friends my be stuck up little bitches, but they are pretty, and would look even prettier covered in gunge!”

Chloe shook her head and sighed. “Rebecca…” Becky stifled the giggle she always got when someone used her real name on her. “How many times do I have to say it? Not everyone is a complete nympho!”

“I’m not a complete nympho!” Yumiko sighed.

“Enough bickering, you guys. Are we going to send Arabella’s friends a message or not? Just wondering since I have an idea…”

——

Later that day, Eleanor was dressed in a white tank top and white jeans, and relaxing in her bunk with some kind of soppy novel. Suddenly she received a text message. “U guys come 2 kayotics bus Becky has something 2 say 2 u”.

“It’s a trap. She’s been forced to send a message,” Phillipa declared immediately, looking back from the TV.

“Don’t be silly. Those metalheads aren’t smart enough to make a trap. They’re going to apologise and say how we’re simply flawless musicians!” With those words, Eleanor headed straight for the bus. Phillipa rolled her eyes and followed her. They approached and saw Becky waiting with Arabella, sat in lawn chairs. There were two empty lawn chairs in front of them too. Unbeknownst to them, the rest of the Kayotics were hiding in the shadows.

“Good afternoon, my bandmates,” Arabella smiled.

“Yo,” Becky added. “Take a seat.”

Phillipa whispered into Eleanor’s ear. “Seriously, I don’t like the looks of this. Let’s go back to the bus.”

“Something wrong, Pippy?” Becky smiled innocently.

“Yeah, you’re being way too nice,” said Phillipa, trying to hide her annoyance at being called “Pippy”. “What are you planning?”

“I just want to bury the hatchet, Pip. I was a bit out of line last night.”

“Damn right you were!” Eleanor snapped at Becky, standing over her. As much as the singer/guitarist towered over Becky, the Kayotics’ lead guitarist wasn’t worried. “You were out of line with your baseless accusa–” She was soon cut off by the feeling of something running up the side of her right leg. She looked down and saw that Becky playing footsie with her. “What are you doing, you freak?!”

Becky pouted. “I thought it would feel nice for you!”

Eleanor sat down on one of the spare chairs, glaring at Becky the whole time. “Look, Becky, I don’t like you. I don’t like any of you Kayotics. I don’t even like metal. The only reason that we agreed to tour with you was because the label offered us a lot of money to do it. Got it?”

“That’s a shame. I was hoping to settle our silly argument,” Becky said, almost sounding genuinely sad. “What don’t you like about us?”

Phillipa shrugged her shoulders and sat down with the other girls. Clearly nobody else was going anywhere. “Metal is just noise. Why can’t you make proper music?”

“And what’s with your gunge obsession? It looks so foul and makes you look like a bunch of utter children,” Eleanor added.

“Also, we have fans because we can actually play our instruments and because Elle can really sing. You only have fans because you go around on stage in skimpy costumes and pose provocatively while that Chinese girl sings songs about boys! Except, you’re not even good at being sexy since you’re all ugly and smell as bad as your fans!”

Becky huffed. “Well, you’ve spelled it out for me very clearly. I feel I must apologise. I’m sorry you don’t think that four girls with diplomas in music and a girl with a degree in music can’t play their instruments or sing.”

“You guys actually have qualifications in music? Exams really are getting easier!” Eleanor chuckled. “Anyway, you were saying?”

“I’m sorry that you think that having a harmless quirk that all your fans love makes you less mature than injuring your fellow musicians with no provocation,” Becky continued.

Eleanor scoffed. “Becky, gunge is for kids and creepy internet fetishists. If you’re not kids, you’re obviously some kind of sexual deviants.”

“Sexual deviancy is probably my best trait, and one I’d happily share with you” Becky said, batting her eyelids. “Except that you’re so fucking fake, which leads me to my next point. I’m really sorry that we don’t fit your definitions of beauty because we don’t pad our bras, wear the exact same goddamn makeup as every other bimbo or spend our daddy’s money on plastic surgery that makes us look the exact fucking same as we did before we went in.”

Eleanor and Phillipa both gasped. “I do not pad my bra!” Phillipa protested, crossing her arms over her chest.

“And I have never had plastic surgery! Why would I? I’m flawless as I am!”

“Are you done with your fake apologies, Little Miss ‘So Fucking Fake’?”

Becky just shook her head. “One last thing. I’m sorry you can’t admit you’re in the wrong in this. I really hoped we could settle our differences, but it’s clear you’re a pair of stupid, spoiled cunts. I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this.”

“Come to–EEK!!!” Eleanor started, but she was cut off by something hitting the top of her head. Her flawless hair soon turned into a slimy, sticky green mess. Through the deluge of green gunge, she could just see Michelle and Kassidy (now egg-free) stood over her with a pair of buckets. The white top and trousers she was wearing quickly turned the same bright green as her hair and face.

Phillipa tried not to, but she couldn’t help laughing at Eleanor, even if the odd drop was splashing onto her (though it was nothing compared to the splash-back that Michelle and Kassidy where dealing with, of course). “I told you it was a trap!” she laughed.

“I don’t know why you’re so happy,” said a voice from behind her. It was Yumiko, and she was stood with Chloe. The two of them were both holding buckets too. “Oh, and stop saying I’m Chinese.”

The keyboardist’s heart sank, knowing she wouldn’t get away from this encounter even remotely clean. She slipped her mules off and kicked them under her chair. Hopefully her red dress would survive the imminent deluge. Deciding there was no point in fighting it, she closed her eyes and waited for Yumiko and Chloe to do their dirty work. In a single moment, the two members of The Kayotics turned their helpless captive into much the same sort of mess that Eleanor had become. “Eurgh, this is awful,” Phillipa moaned.

“It’s horrible,” added Eleanor. “You’re all horrible!”

“I dunno, I think you look great,” Phillipa teased, wiping some of the goo from her face. There was little point, of course, as the gunge above it simply replaced it.

Eleanor stared at Phillipa, eyes narrowed under the thick coating of green ooze. “Are you serious? We’ve just been humiliated and you’re making jokes?”

“No, I mean it. Green is so your colour.”

Eleanor scoffed. “You’re covered in gunk too, you know! We both look ridiculous!”

“Yeah, and the world will see how ridiculous you look,” said Arabella, gesturing to a camcorder in the window of the Kayotics’ tour bus. “Now, apologise.”

Eleanor and Phillipa felt themselves freeze. Whether it was the frigid cold slime or the piercing stares from the other women there, they didn’t know. Phillipa was the first one to speak. “I… I’m sorry.”

“No you aren’t, and neither am I! I swear, when my daddy finds out what you’ve done, you’ll end up with so much negative publicity you’ll have to go into hiding!” Eleanor declared, stomping off back to her tour bus. “Assuming you CAN hide when you’re so identifiably ugly and smelly!” she shouted as she slammed the door.

Phillipa flinched at the door’s slam. It shook the tour bus. “This is why I say on her good side,” she said quietly. “Like, really try to stay on her good side. I didn’t mean most of what I said. Sorry for hurting you all.” She looked deeply into Becky’s eyes as she spoke, toes curled and hand on heart.

“I’m sorry too, for thinking you were as bad as Eleanor,” smiled Becky.

“And for having me gunged?”

The Kayotics’ lead guitarist let out her usual perky giggle. “Hee hee! Nope! You look fine, Pip! The only gungy thing I’ll apologise for is not preparing some for Arabella!”

Arabella gasped, albeit jokingly, while Phillipa let out a chuckle and said, “A compliment and a promise of a future gunging for our mutual friend is good enough for me! Now, I must retire and cleanse myself of your foul ooze!”

As Phillipa left, Arabella looked over The Kayotics, one by one, from Michelle to Kassidy, to Chloe and Yumiko, and finally to Becky. “Are you really going to gunge me too?” she asked.

“Sure.” “Probably.” “I guess if you want to.” “Yeah!” “Someday.”

Arabella couldn’t tell who said what as they spoke at once. All she knew was how she’d answer the idea. “I’d be honoured.”

“Well, that’s all we have right now,” said Michelle. “Guess you’ll have to look forward to it some other time.”

——

I know this isn’t Kirsten’s Tale Part 4. I am working on it, but the fact I’ve left this story unfinished has been bugging me. I’ve got a reason for writing this beyond just thinking “hey, The Kayotics should humiliate a couple of snobs”, but I’ll explain that in a separate post.

So Blue Peter attempted to beat the world record for the most people gunged in 3 minutes today, and it was an even bigger success than the last time they were involved in a gungy record attempt. The record was 49, they managed 60 and still had time to spare, which is good and bad in a way! Good balance of men and women too. Overall, everything went better than expected!

Warning: Adult Content ahead

Madison was in shock. “You’re not going to make me do this, are you?” she asked Jeremy. “I’m not a lesbian! I’m not licking pussy.”

“Madison, you signed a contract, and were already given the money. If you don’t finish this round there could very well be a lawsuit” Jeremy Borash warned.

“You’ll love it Madison, the taste of my sweet pussy, tits, and ass” Mickie said seductively as she started to cover her body in the whipped cream. She first covered both of her C cup breasts with one can, and made a line to connect them. Then, she wrapped the cream around her waist with a second. With the third can, she covered her groin slightly, enough so that she was slightly hidden, but not enough that Madison would only be licking whipped cream. Lastly, she glazed her ass with the cream, spraying a large amount in between her cheeks for Madison to lick out. She stood up and looked at a humiliated Madison. “Well, are you ready?”

Madison sighed. She knew that she had to do this. “Fine.” She started with Mickie’s breast, gently licking the cream off of her right one.

“How does it taste?” Mickie asked.

“It would taste better if you weren’t covered with cheese and beans” Madison said, spitting the whipped cream out of her mouth. Ready to finish the top of Mickie off, she was surprised when Mickie stopped her.

“Let’s try something a little different” she said. Mickie Grabbed Madison and pulled her face into her cleavage, making the other brunette motorboat her. After a few seconds, Madison pulled away, her face covered with the white stuff. “That’s not even the worst part you know. You still have the lower portion to go.”

Madison wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. She got down on her knees as Mickie pulled her head in front of her crotch. “Start off nice and slowly” she ordered.

Hesitantly, Madison started to lick. She could feel her rival’s lips under the whipped cream she was licking off. Never in her life had she thought that something like this would happen to her, especially not in front of a live audience.

“Mmm, that feels good” Mickie moaned, watching Madison finish off. She started to rub herself, now pretty horny. “One last spot to go. Time to get your face in my ass.”

Madison was grabbed by the hair, her face driven into Mickie’s whipped cream covered ass cheeks. The southern Knockout laughed as Madison’s face was engulfed in her large ass, her hands flailing around. The brunettes face vanished into the whipped cream filled butt, her arms flailing. After about 15 seconds, Mickie let her go.

“That was disgusting!” Madison yelled out, wiping her face.

“You still have a little more to go” Mickie said, spreading her cheeks to show Madison her asshole. “Now give it a lick.”

“No! I would never lick your ass!” Madison yelled, going back to her seat. “Can we move on?” She wanted to get this round over with.

“Jeremy, she still has some whipped cream to get” Mickie reminded.

“Madison, you have to get all of the whipped cream that Mickie wants you to” Jeremy Borash conceded to a horrified Madison.

“Just one lick” Madison said, trying to bargain.

Mickie laughed. “You’ll be there until I’m satisfied.” With that, she grabbed Madison by the hair again and moved her face towards her bubble butt. “Ready?”

Madison closed her eyes and stuck her tongue out as Mickie moved her ass into her face. Madison could feel the whipped cream before her tongue hit then hole, and tried to get this done with as quickly as possible. She furiously licked to the moans of Mickie’s pleasure and the cheers and catcalls of the audience.

Once again, Mickie pushed Madison’s face deeper into her ass, and started to grind. After another thirty seconds, she put Madison out of her misery.

The skinnier brunette spit out all of the whipped cream and taste of Mickie, and wiped her face with her dress. She would never forget this moment.

“Very nice performance ladies” Borash said. “Let’s see what we have in store for you next.”

The wheel was spun again, and landed on slime. A bucket of blue slime of the same consistency used on Rosita was placed in between them.

“Madison, on what PPV did TNA revert back to the four sided ring?”

Thinking for a second, Madison was trying to remember the name. She knew it was in January 2010, but wasn’t sure of the name. “Final Resolution 2010?”

“That is incorrect. It was Genesis 2010.”

Mickie grabbed the bucket and looked Madison over. Realizing that the bottom part of Madison was pretty clean, she started to cover her dress and legs with the chunky blue slime.

Madison was now covered in green, blue, and white, her hair a mess.

“Ladies, we only have two more questions left, so answer wisely” Jeremy said as the wheel was spun to reveal the next item as spaghetti with sauce and meatballs.

“Mickie, Pacman Jones was once one half of the TNA tag team champions. What football team did he play for right before he joined TNA?”

“I know this one. The Tennessee Titans” Mickie said confidently.

“Once again, you are correct” Jeremy said as he handed the bucket to Mickie, who looked over Madison. She was almost completely trashed with disgusting mess, but Mickie saw one spot where she was clean.

“Bend over” Mickie ordered. Madison sighed, knowing what was coming. She got up off the stool and bent over.

“Other way, back to the crowd” Mickie said as she turned her rival around and spanked her lifted Madison’s dress up to expose a pair of black panties. She gave the brunette a few spanks before pulling her undergarments open and started to empty the bucket of sauce and noodles into Madison’s underwear.

Madison gasped at the temperature of the mixture of noodles and sauce hit her ass. She could feel it dripping into her crack and orifices, a feeling which was disgusting and embarrassing. She felt Mickie smush a meatball right into her backside, and was promptly spun around.

“Now for the front.” Mickie pulled Madison’s dress up and stretched her panties, filling them up with the red sauce and noodles. The dark juice dribbled down her leg, and she felt Mickie put her hand into her panties.

“You’re gonna love this!” she said enthusiastically, smearing noodles onto Madison’s pussy, as well as fingering her furiously. Madison couldn’t stop the pleasure rushing through her body and let out a loud moan, much to the cheer of the crowd. Her embarrassment had reached a fevered pitch.

It finally ended with Mickie dumping the rest of the sauce over her head and smushing two meatballs into her face. This night was becoming her worst nightmare, and there was still one question left.

“Another nice job Mickie. I have a question for you though; what if Madison gets the next question right and exacts payback on you?” Jeremy Borash quizzed.

“I’m pretty sure nothing can top what’s happened to Madison in the past ten minutes” Mickie said arrogantly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. For the final punishment, we took a page out of your career Mickie. Now, we know that this part was incredibly mean spirited and untrue, but remember the Piggie James angle?”

Mickie’s smile suddenly disappeared as a large pig pen was wheeled out. It was filled up with tons of black and brown mud. The consistency was nasty. It was almost exactly what a pig would live in, a trough of water and a bucket of pig food included.

Madison’s reaction was more mixed. Although she was a mess, this night could get even worse for her. On the other hand, she felt like she was going to able to get the last question right out of karma for Mickie’s humiliating actions. Madison wanted payback.

The final question was asked, and the two were hesitant to answer. Mickie was especially fearful of getting it wrong, when she heard Madison’s buzzer go off. She prayed that the answer was wrong.

It wasn’t. Madison let out a loud scream of joy and pointed at Mickie. “Time for some revenge, bitch!” she laughed as Mickie’s face grew horrified.

“Okay Madison, here are the rules. You have Two and a half minutes to do whatever you want to Mickie in this pen, just no violence of course” Borash said as Mickie was dragged into the mud by Madison. They’re feet squelched in the muck as Madison stood behind Mickie, holding her hands behind her back.

“Let’s get this little pig dirty” she said, pushing Mickie’s face into the muck. The smell was horribly intoxicating. Mickie had grown up on a farm and knew that this was real pigpen, and probably was just used. Her face was pushed around, and her hair was used a mop, coating her head with the smelly mess.

“Maybe I can ride you like a horse.” Madison picked Mickie up on her hands and knees and started to spank her bare juicy ass, making Mickie gasp and squirm.

This was extremely humiliating for Mickie. She knew a few years back that it was just for show, but this was real. She could feel the stings of Madison’s slaps and tried to struggle free.

“Uh uh, you’re not going anywhere unless you do what I say” Madison said as she pushed Mickie back down face first. She grabbed a glop of mud and started to smear it on the back of Mickie’s head, trying to cover every clean inch. When she felt satisfied, she got picked Mickie up.

“I’m going to be nice and let you get a little clean” she said, pushing Mickie over to the trough of water. This wasn’t clean water though. Pigs had eaten out of it and it was now brown and dirty.

“Please don’t do this to me, I’m sorry” Mickie said, but it was to no avail. She was dunked head first into the liquid, and then pulled back out. Even though it washed off some of the mud, it still smelled horrible.

“Four more minutes” Borash announced.

Madison threw Mickie onto her back and stood over her. “You liked having my face in your ass, didn’t you? Let’s see how you like this.” Madison straddled Mickie’s stomach and scooted up, her crotch hovering over the face of her foe. “Get ready to eat some pussy.” With that, she dropped her nether regions onto Mickie’s face, lining her vagina up with Mickie’s mouth and started to grind.

“Lick that pussy and maybe I’ll let you go” Madison offered. Mickie tried to move her face, but Madison held her in place. “Come on, I know you’ll like it. I bet it tastes so good.”

Wanting to get out of this, Mickie slipped her tongue out and started to lick. He could feel and taste the sauce and meatballs that was slipped into Madison’s panties, and it was disgusting. Still, hoped that Madison would show her mercy and started to lick more furiously.

Madison closed her eyes and began to moan softly. This felt so good. The woman she hated was now her slave and being humiliated to a national audience. She began to rub her clit and leaned forward so that her pussy was now covering Mickie’s nose as well. After about 20 seconds, she arched her back and let out a loud scream, along with a stream of squirt onto Mickie’s face.

“Ah!” Mickie screamed as she felt the warm liquid hit her face. This had gotten even worse for her.

Madison stood up slowly, her legs shaking from the orgasm she just had. She smiled devilishly at Mickie and walked over to behind her head and looked straight down at her.

“They say an eye for an eye. How about an ass for an ass?” Madison said, dropping down to her knees and pressing her ass into Mickie’s face.

Mickie tried to scream, but her yell was muffled by Madison’s ass. Maybe she had thought too soon that the worst was over. This was utterly humiliating, having to breathe in Madison’s ass.

“Let’s see how you like having to lick ass” Madison taunted, spreading her cheeks so that her hole was right in front of Mickie mouth. “I want your tongue all the way in there.”

“No way!” Mickie shouted, but was then cut off again by Madison dropping the full weight of her ass back onto Mickie’s face.

“That’s the only way I’m gonna get off you” Madison warned, lifting herself up slightly and spreading her ass again for Mickie to have a good look at. “Come one, I know you’ve licked ass before.”

Though she had done this act before, she had only done it with the closest of her former girlfriends, not her arch rival. Still, she wanted this to all be over. Closing her eyes, she once again stuck her tongue out and slid it into Madison.

“Wow, this slut is actually doing this” Madison exclaimed to the roar of the crowd. “How does it taste?” She started to grind on Mickie’s face, making sure her tongue was put to good use.

“Disgusting” Mickie said. Though she ate ass before and was fine with it, the combination of doing it to someone she hated as well as all of the slop on it made this one of the most disgusting things she had ever done, and she wanted it over as quickly as possible.

“Only 40 seconds left to go!” Borash announced.

Madison looked over at the bucket of pig slop. She grabbed Mickie by the hair and pulled her up. She grabbed a handful of the horrible smelling slop and drizzled it slowly onto the brunette’s hair. It was filled with vegetables, meat, and mud, all blended in a nasty and horrible smelling consistency.

Mickie winced as it fell on her head. How was she ever going to get this smell out of her hair she thought, but her thoughts were cut off by the bucket being slowly dumped onto her head. It was official; this was the most humiliating and disgusting experience of her life so far. The smell was overpowering, and she couldn’t even hold her nose with her hand tied behind her back. She tried to look down, but Madison lifted her face up and splattered the last remaining bit across her face, rubbing it in to her mouth. She spat it out right away.

“That was so much fun” Madison laughed as Mickie was uncuffed, pointing and laughing at her. She looked over at the other women, some of whom were laughing was well. What she didn’t know was that Mickie was standing behind her holding a bucket of mud, her face fuming with anger.

As she turned around and saw Mickie, she knew what was about to happen. Before she could yell for her to stop, the half-filled bucket was poured all over her. Mickie may have evened the score.

Security stopped Mickie before she could throw Madison into the mud and quickly escorted her to the back, leaving Madison on the stage standing still, shocked at what just happened.

“Well, you two ladies certainly put on a show, how was it Madison?” Borash asked.

“Do you really want to know?” Madison yelled. “I’m covered in all of this crap, and my face was shoved into that bitch’s ass. How do you think I was? Ugh, I stink! I won’t be clean for a week.” Madison stormed off the stage in a fit, wanting to get her paycheck and leave. As she walked to the dressing room, Mickie was brought out onto the stage.

“Your thoughts Mickie?”

“I agree with everything she said. That was utterly disgusting” Mickie said. “But at least money is going to charity. Hell, maybe I’ll even laugh at this. Someday” she said, not sure about the last part.

“Would you do it all again?” Borash asked.

Mickie shrugged. “If you doubled the money then sure. Fifteen minutes of that is worth it for a good cause.” Mickie smiled and waved to the crowd as she went back and sat on her stool. A few minutes after, Madison sat down on the other side of the stage, still pissed at Mickie getting a measure of revenge.

“Can we get a move on?”, Tiffany appealed from under her 23-ingredient coating. “I think somewere under all this the apple sauce has started fermenting into cider.”

“Only three more to go, Tiff”, Amanda cheerily assured her. “And here comes Ms X now.”

Passing a wine-stained Waka at the entrance, the newcomer – who likewise went by a four-letter mononym – bounded excitedly into the studio. Ms X was older than most who had gone before her, and sported cropped blonde hair.

“This is Xuxa”, announced Amanda. “A Brazilian singer, model, and of most interest to us, children’s TV presenter. This woman is worthy contender for ‘the Holly Willoughby of the Southern Hemisphere’, though Olivia Phyland and Gem Knight would give her a run for her money. She’s taken torta na cara more times than I’ve had hot dinners.”

“Shoosha?”, Tiffany’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t sound like it begins with X.”

“Well it does!”, insisted Amanda, getting annoyed by Tiffany’s questioning of everything. She showed Xuxa to her seat and then walked over to the lever. “And you’ll be pleased to hear that the substance really begins with X too – no cheating!”

With that, Amanda yanked down the lever. The substance that glooped out of the bucket was transparent, but with a slight cloudiness and a notable gelatinous lumpliness, looking somewhat like wallpaper paste. As it slewed onto Tiffany’s head and slithered down her in all directions, the clear goo didn’t have a particularly striking effect on top of the colourful morass of pre-existing gunk, and served mainly to add an extra sheen under the studio lights. Tiffany, however, was rather perturbed by the substance, perhaps because she had no idea what it was. When the downpour had died down to a few parting splatters, she wiped her eyes and looked to Amanda for answers.

“It’s xanthan gum!”, revealed Amanda. Upon drawing a blank she added, “It’s a food thickener, Tiff. Didn’t you ever read the ingredients list on a packet of Fruit Pastilles?”

Tiffany looked only partially placated by the explanation, and Amanda thought it best not to add her trivia piece that xanthan gum is produced by bacteria. She proceeded to the second lever, and was about to pull it when her guest spoke up.

“You’re missing out on all the fun! Fancy joining me?” Xuxa patted her lap.

“Now that’s the best idea I’ve heard so far!”, exclaimed Tiffany.

“No no, I’m quite content with the role of presenter”, Amanda hurriedly declined.

“Now come on”, said the Brazilian veteran. “Everyone knows the presenter gets messy towards the end of the series!”

“Not on this show!”, blurted Amanda, squirming on the spot. “Besides, who’d pull the lever?”

Tiffany’s hand rose quicker than an MP’s salary, but Amanda had no intention of letting her friend turn the tables on her and brought the discussion to an end by ripping down the lever. Above Xuxa, the barrel upended, sending the xanthan gum surging down onto the Latin celeb. Laughing and smiling, Xuxa made no attempt to dodge or shield herself from the gluey goop; rather she spread out her arms to welcome it, in a pose reminiscent of the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro. The food thickener plastered down her short hair against her scalp and turned her white suit a shade darker.

In her element, Xuxa waited until she had received every last drop the barrel had to give. Wiping the gunk clear of her eyes, she stood up and advanced towards Amanda with her gooey arms outstretched. “At least give me a hug!”, she taunted.

“No way!” Amanda dodged behind the gunging area as Xuxa slipped and slid after her.

Eventually, with some coaxing from Trey, Xuxa gave up the chase and went to have her photo taken with a vial of xanthan gum. Meanwhile, Ms Y stood watching from the wings with a smirk on her face.

And so concludes what is likely my last ever celebrity story. Sorry it took a while to get it finished.

Just a couple of days before the deadline, here’s my entry.

“Did these shrink in the wash or am I getting fatter?”, Emma grumbled as she heaved, yanked and shuffled her way into her silvery sequinned trousers. Eventually succeeding in getting the questionable garment to her waist, she turned and wiggled her butt in the mirror, reassuring herself it was just the perfect size, and flicked her dusky-blonde hair seductively. She then plumped up her pink padded bra (in Emma’s mind her bust was a little below the perfect size) before slipping into her white skinny-fit top.

Leaning into the mirror, she was about to top up her scarlet lipstick, when she heard a single, sharp rap at the door downstairs. Guests arriving already? She looked at her bedside clock. There were more than two hours to go. Nobody’s that unfashionably early.

Emma listened out, but no further knock came. It’s just a bird hitting the window, she told herself. Yet something compelled her to go downstairs. When she got there, she found a small card on the doormat. It was made of good quality paper, and inscribed in fine handwriting,

Emma Martin, you are hereby nominated for the Ice Bucket Challenge. You have 24 hours to upload the video to a social network of your choice. Good luck!

Whoever had nominated Emma had decided to remain anonymous. Emma hurriedly opened the door, hoping to catch the guilty jogging off down the street, but there was no-one to be seen. She closed the door and reread the note, sighing slightly. With the ice bucket craze having already peaked, she had hoped this would be one piece of wet and messy action she’d successfully avoid. But it was not to be.

Well, I haven’t got time for any of that nonsense tonight, Emma told herself. It’ll have to wait till tomorrow. Maybe the ice will shock me out of my hangover.

Placing the note on the table, she was about to head back upstairs for another round of preening, when she jumped at the sound of more knocking at the door, this time a flurry of raps. Did curiosity get the better of her mysterious nominator? Emma whipped open the door once more, and was a little disappointed to see her friend Louise Walker beaming at her.

“Hi Emma! Thought I’d pop round to give you hand setting up the party.” Straight from work, the ebony girl was wearing her typical librarian’s garb of a light-blue blouse, black skirt and clear tights.

“Oh, hi Louise. You didn’t see anyone walking away from here when you came, did you?”

“Uh… no, nobody”, replied Louise. “Why d’you ask?”

“No particular reason”, Emma evaded, realising it wouldn’t be a good idea to let Louise know of the challenge. But it was too late; the librarian’s sharp eyes had already spotted the missive on the table.

“Mmmm what’s this?”, Louise picked up the notelet. “Oooo Emma, you’ve been nominated for the Ice Bucket Challenge – how exciting!”

“Excitement isn’t my predominant reaction”, Emma sulked. “I’m dying to know who sent it though. Bet it’s Andrea – sort of trick she’d play.”

“Oh maybe Tim, up to his usual mischief”, ventured Louise with a disapproving air.

“No way is Tim’s handwriting that neat”, Emma pointed out. “I reckon it might be that old git Wamdale.”

“You know, it’s got a bit of a strange smell to it”, Louise raised the card to her nostrils. “Kinda like yeast extract.”

“Give us that.” Emma sniffed the card herself. “You’re right! Well well well, if it isn’t the Marmite Maiden herself! Erika never did get completely rid of that odour. I should have known she was the culprit.”

“Well whoever sent it, you really should do it. It is for charity, after all.” Louise’s eyes lit up. “We can do it out here on the patio! Good thing I brought my video camera.”

“Yeah, but not now. I’m all dressed up for the party.”

“You’ve got time to get ready again”, Louise insisted. She pushed past Emma and headed for the kitchen. “And you’ve got loads of ice in the freezer. Perfect!”

“That’s for the cocktails!”, Emma protested, to no avail. The sound of running water issued from the kitchen, and then Louise returned with a clinking, king-size champagne bucket.

“I let the tap run for a bit to make sure the water was nice and cold”, Louise explained.

“How thoughtful of you”, said Emma sourly.

Louise got to work setting up her camera on a tripod. “Go on then, Emma, kneel down.”

“You’d better not enjoy this”, Emma hissed as she grudgingly obliged.

“Just doing my bit for charity”, Louise smirked as she took her position behind Emma and lifted the ice bucket.

“Hi, I’m Emma Martin”, Emma announced to the camera in the most enthusiastic voice she could muster. “I’ve received an anonymous nomination to do the Ice Bucket Challenge. At least, it was intended to be anonymous, but Erika dear, I’m afraid your Marmite musk gives you away! Maybe in a few more years you’ll be rid of it, ha ha! Anyway, since I’m always keen to support charities, I accept the challenge.” Emma took a swift glance upwards at the metallic vessel poised above her head. She grimaced and clenched her fists, and concluded her statement with an apprehensive, “take it away Louise!”

Louise, grinning like a Cheshire cat, inverted the bucket, dispensing the chilly contents in one fell swoop. Whatever Emma had imagined the sensation would be like, she wasn’t prepared for the reality. She had taken some cold gungings during the course of her exploits at the Bishop Berkley Campus, but none quite as bracing as this. The icecubes smarted slightly as they struck her skin. Where she was lucky, they bounced off. Where she was not so lucky, they slid down her body, tracing frosty paths as they went. A surprising number managed to negotiate access inside her tight top, where the discomfiture was multiplied.

The icecubes, however, were but a minor nuisance compared to the deluge of frigid water. It engulfed Emma without restraint or discretion, battering her curls against her head, breaching her clothing, and invading her most sensitive areas. Emma jolted reflexively with shock. Her back arched. Over the roar of the surging downpour, she heard a scream, which she later realised had issued from her own lungs.

Unable to keep still, Emma leapt to her feet like a coiled spring. She spasmed and gaped, each jerk causing her now-transparent top to slap against her torso. Her pink bra and modest cleavage were on full display. Her sequined trousers, also saturated, sparkled even more than usual. Her hair, once voluminous and bouncy, was now plastered to her scalp, and had crossed the line from blonde to brunette. One strand of weighted locks draped themselves across her face. Jumping around, Emma shook the hem of her top, trying to dislodge the icecubes that tormented her so.

“Yay! Way to go Emma! Wooo!!” Louise discarded the bucket and applauded her friend.

“Well, nobody… can say… I’m a bad sport”, Emma gasped, battling to regain her composure. She brushed the errant hair away from her face. Her eyeshadow had run in two streams down her cheeks. “Suffice to say, I need to fix a new outfit for tonight.”

Louise went over to the video camera. “It came out perfect”, she grinned. “Let’s get this baby uploaded!”

“No doubt Erika will have a chuckle when she views it”, Emma remarked resentfully as she wrung out her top. She casually picked up the notelet on which the nomination had been written. Drops of water from her hair landed on the fine paper and caused the blue ink to run. “Hang on”, she frowned. “This card has got the crest of the university library in the corner.”

“H..has it really?”, Louise raised a hand and nervously ruffled her afro curls. “You know… I thought I saw some someone who looked like Erika in the library last week.”

The bedraggled Emma fixed her friend with a stern, probing stare. Louise’s poker face lasted five seconds before it cracked into a smirk, followed by a grin.

“LOUISE!!” Emma exclaimed. “So it was you who set me up!” She perused the notelet once more. “But this isn’t your writing.”

“I got one of the other staff to write it”, Louise admitted. “But yeah, it was my idea. I thought smearing it with Marmite was a nice touch, if I say so myself”, she added, half sheepish, half glowing with pride.

Emma was incredulous. “You of all people! When did you become so devious, Miss Walker?”

“What can I say, Miss Martin? My best friend is a bad influence!”, Louise retorted with a cheeky smile.

Emma pursed her lips. Then a light bulb switched on above her sopping curls. “You know, there’s one thing I forgot to do, and that’s to nominate someone else to take the challenge!” Emma picked up the champagne bucket. “Just as well there’s plenty of ice left in the freezer.”

Louise’s smug expression gave way to alarm. “I… er… think there’s a rule against nominating the person who nominated you”, she bluffed.

“I reckon there’s also a rule against pretending the nomination came from someone else.” Emma put a damp hand on the smartly dressed librarian’s shoulder and smiled malevolently. “On your knees please, Louise!”, she unintentionally rhymed.

Sighing, the busted prankster knelt in the puddle of icecubes, feeling the water soak up into her tights. Emma disappeared into the house, re-emerging with a fully laden champagne bucket and a wicked grin. After restarting the video camera, she took up her position behind Louise. Looking down, Emma saw that the black girl’s shoulders were hunched and shaking slightly. She took a moment to savour the situation.

“You know, Louise, I think you missed a trick earlier”, Emma purred softly.

Louise cringed. “How so?”

“You tipped the bucket far too quickly. Too hasty, too keen. If you’d poured it slowly – paying attention to all the right places – you could have really drawn out the agony.” Emma laid great honeyed emphasis on that final word.

Brushing aside Louise’s thick black hair, Emma put a hand to the collar of her victim’s blouse and pulled it away from the nape. “Believe me, I’m gonna take my time over this.”

Louise gulped.

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Right, it’s past the deadline here so it’s time to vote. Sadly there were no entrants in the celebrity or fictional character categories, which leaves us with the original character category. The nominees are:

Nicki’s Ice Bucket Challenge, by yours truly

Jen takes the Ice Bucket Challenge, by TripleWAM

Emma Martin’s Ice Bucket Challenge, by TG

You’ve got a week to read, then vote. Good luck to everyone!

Thanks to everyone who pointed this one out in the Finds section, particularly Splato for posting the original alert and to silverg / Gail Force for linking to the videos.

Baseball player Jake Marisnick visited the Sports Illustrated offices a couple of weeks ago to bring the baseball tradition of pieing people in the face to an office environment, with pleasing results.

The pieing of presenter Maggie Gray has already done the rounds, but now the whole video is up, featuring multiple employees (and model Kate Bock) getting nailed with pies. The video foiled my attempts to download it, so I had to resort to screen capture, but it’s a great scene and it’s better than nothing.

There’s also some backstage slo-mo footage from the shoot which shows some of the scenes from a different (and, in a couple of cases, slightly better) angle.

I can reveal the results of the vote.

In third place with 23% of the vote was TripleWAM.

In second place with 26% was Me. Dammit…

Which means that with 51%, TG wins the vote. Congratulations!

Thanks to everyone who wrote, everyone who read and everyone who voted. Double thanks to everyone who voted for me. Next time, huh? ;)

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.

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So, an incredible response to the stories over the past few months. I have plenty more nominations still archived, ready to be brought on and given their ‘comeuppance’. So if you haven’t seen your nominations yet, don’t fear – I have saved them all and will get to them!

Now, I promised you all celebrity special after a short break, and so get ready for it. In terms of how this series is written and portrayed, this is potentially the most realistic celebrity episode I’ve done. The candidates are perfect and realistic, it’s probably going to be easy to visualise it, and plus I have a feeling that it will be close between them. And…I’m planning something for the episode. So be sure to have your vote counted.

Slightly as for future plans, as well as the new series, I have an idea for another celeb special to tie in with a TV event, with two great and relevant celebs. But that will come when the time is right. But for this one, I knew I wanted to please and make it current and realistic.

Now bear in mind that you are voting for who YOU want to go into the Gunk Dunk in the episode. You only get ONE VOTE, so make it count!

Oh, you’re going to love the choices, but you’re going to hate having to pick I think…

—

 As the CBBC ident came away, all that could be seen was a big grin, pearly white teeth looking mischievously happy. And Dave Benson Phillips had reason to. After a wave of episodes featuring various members of the public ending up being gunged in his infamous tank, he was enjoying being the most popular children’s television presenter on the box, with what was now arguably the most popular kids television show. Get Your Own Back had been back in it’s prime for months now, however it had started getting bigger and even more popular than anyone at CBBC had realised. But today, GYOB was going back to it’s roots, in more ways than one.

“Welcome, welcome, one and all to the studio of sorrow, yes, this is You Goo Who!”

Dave held up his arms as the camera pulled back fast, showing the big kid in his playhouse; lights were dim and slowly swimming all over the place, the rows of seats ready for the kids whenever they may show, and mist all around. And behind Dave, was of course every adults worse nightmare, although this time, Dave didn’t seem to be fond of going near it and showing it off – he decided some things were best left for the show. Not that anything had changed since the last time, only he felt it was a good idea to hype up and never show the gunge too much before the episode.

“Yes it’s been a while but I have some fantastic news; Get Your Own Back is returning very soon to your screens. Oh yes, more adults will be going down my ramp of regret soon, into the tank of terror and – woah hang on, way too much fancy word play this week!”

Dave chuckled to himself and looked both sides of him, fearful he might be heard and ushered the camera toward him.

“Look, basically I’m here today to tell you about the very next episode of the show. The opening of the fourth series! And we wanted to have a kind of, look back at the shows history. So we thought these two young ladies and CBBC regulars deserved their chance on the show!”

Dave moved back and from the sides rolled in two cages, both with struggling and protesting CBBC presenters, already in their GYOB attires. In the yellow cage on the left was Blue Peter presenter Lindsey Russell. The 23 year olds brown hair was worn neatly, coming down to just above her shoulders, and curled slightly at the ends. It looked almost dark red, as she thrashed around at the cages bars attempting mockingly to escape. She was of course wearing a yellow GYOB top, which wasn’t worn loose but rather tucked in, making it fit firmly to her chest. It was tucked into her black jean shorts, and she had decided to wear a pair of dark tights, which she often wore whilst presenting on Blue Peter.

In the right cage, also struggling to try and get out, more so it seemed to wrap her hands around Dave’s neck, was none other than CBBC presenter, 25 year old Katie Thistleton. Her long blonde hair was today in a pony tail, which should have been hanging down one shoulder but of course wasn’t due to her not staying put in the cage. She was wearing the blue GYOB top, loose in contrast to Lindsey tucking hers in, and had chosen to wear figure hugging shorts, showing off lovely smooth legs, yet they looked strong for the show to come. Both girls made a huge racket until Dave yelled, the camera shaking to give the effect of an earthquake.

“QUIEEEEET!”

Both women at once didn’t make a noise, and after a moment of silence there was a thick splash from behind all three adults, and Dave looked back to the Gunk Dunk, and then back to the camera rolling his eyes.

“That was my lunch! Aww no, ohh, tuna and mayo sandwiches’. Deary me, never mind, never mind. Now er…hang on, er…haven’t you two girls been gunged before on CBBC?”

Katie began at once, not sparing a moment.

“Yeah, Hacker he er…well, a load of green slime. Got a bucket full and chucked it over me the silly little mutt. So yeah, I have.”

Dave raised an eyebrow at Katie, who simply smiled innocently as Lindsey spoke up.

“Oh, oh, oh! And me too, I was gunged a few weeks back now, at the record attempt? I got a bucketful -“

“OH YEAH! I was there too, I got a load of it also Dave.”

Dave rubbed his chin, looking from presenter to presenter.

“Oh. Well…well I mean, that would be very unfair. To gunge to ladies who have already been gunged, and recently. I mean I know what it’s like to be gunged in that stuff behind, MORE than once and well it is a bit much…”

Lindsey goaded to Dave’s sudden rear side of kindness immediatley as Katie nodded.

“Yeah exactly so really, we should er, probably be on our way? So if you could just pop the key into our locks and let us go, you know, seeing as we recently got gunged and -“

“Hang on, hang on. You’re forgetting one thing girls.”

Both answered wearily to Dave at the same time with ‘What?’

“This is my show, and I feel you’re both taking me for a nice, forgiving man! Oi lads, push them over to the slop to admire it for a bit! AHH – HAHAHAHA!”

Both girls yelled out in unison, crying a long ‘No!’ which continued and slowly faded as the crew pushed the cages off into the background toward the Gunk Dunk. Dave looked down, smiling to himself chuckling and rubbing his hands as he wandered toward the camera.

“But guys, as always I want a bit of an opinion poll, just a bit of fun for you guys really. Who do YOU want to see in the gunge in the special episode coming up? Bear in mind this is harmless fun and a teaser! But if you were in the audience and I asked, “Goo Who?” who would you yell and cheer to end up in the awfully yucky muck?”

• On the left, Lindsey Russell, on the right, Katie Thistleton.

“So there we go, two lovely CBBC presenters – no strangers to gunge but they will have the ride of their life on my show. And believe me, that gunge is 10x worse than the pathetic green water you get on most shows on television! So go on, press you red button now and get voting, just as a bit of fun but you never know, during the show your preferred victim may end up in it anyway!”

Dave turned and laughed toward the two whimpering ladies in the cages near the gunge and looked back at the camera. I’ll be back very soon where one of these two ladies behind me will find themselves above that gunge ready, and don’t forget after that to then tune into the new series, full of gruesome grownups ready to be gunged!”

Dave did his signature arms spread, laughing maniacally at the heavens and turning around. It showed a camera above where the Gunk Dunk set was, in the distance near the rows of seats, Dave laughing upward. It panned down near to the surface of the tank, showing both ladies in their cages pulling terrified actions. On the left, Lindsey was holding her nose at the apparent smell, and on the right, Katie seemed to be crying almost, her face screwed up in sorrow. Just before the camera cut out, Dave yelled from the background.

“Oh don’t forget, my lunch fell in that tank earlier remember? Tuna and mayo! Think I may leave it in there to fester for the show for one of you two! HAHAHAHA!”

At this, both women looked at each other, eyes wide at his comment, and in unison cried out loudly.

“EWWWWW.”

—

—

So, who do YOU want to see in that gunge? Lindsey, or Katie? Both have been gunged before, but which one really do you think needs a PROPER gunging?

Remember, whoever wins the poll will be going into that gunge! THE POLL WILL CLOSE AT MIDNIGHT ON SUNDAY OCTOBER 12th. I can’t say exactly when the story will be up, but hopefully within a week or two of the poll closing! 

It should be a cracker, I have a certain surprise up my sleeve for this – something that I’ve been wanting to do for a bit. Oh yes, I’m very much rearing to go on this one, as it potentially will be one you, and I can visualise easy and it should feel very real.

And again, don’t worry, the reader centric episodes will be back soon too – plenty of you gave me nominations which I have saved ready to pick!

-MsM

“Hi, I’m Caroline Flack and welcome to Cascade!” Said the energetic brunette as she strutted into the middle of the small stage at the centre of the set. Two other linking stages either side were obscured by shiny curtains hanging from above. She was wearing a tight-fitting black dress with matching high heels,her light brown hair styled into loose curls. “This is the show where one celebrity will try to win £2,500 for a charity of their choice by taking part in a difficult challenge. The concept is simple: Win, and get the full amount of money for charity and souvenir trophy.” Caroline picked a small silver trophy with the show logo on it and showed it to the camera for a close up. “However, lose and the charity only gets £500. Sounds simple, right?” The camera panned to the left as Caroline walked over to one of the big shiny curtains.

“That’s where you’re wrong!” she said, pulling back the large curtain in one swoop, revealing a bigger stage. At the centre of it was a large booth made of purple plastic, divided by a clear perspex wall. The right side of the booth contained a small, round stool placed in the centre. The left side had a similar stool, but also had a white podium in front of it. On top of the podium was a large red button, and the show logo was printed on the front of the podium. On top of the booth was a large tank made of perspex, currently empty. There were two large white pipes coming from the ceiling of the booth, one on each side. The pipes, slightly different in size, were positioned directly above the two stools. The larger pipe, about 40cm in diameter, was on the right side. The other pipe was only about 20cm in diameter.

“There is an additional penalty for losing the challenge,” explained Caroline with a wry smile. “After the challenge, the contestant and I will take our places in the booths here. I will sit in the left one, with the celebrity contestant in the other. Neither of us will know the results of the challenge until I push this big red button here.” She said, pointing to it. “If the contestant has failed the challenge, then they will be gunged with the contents of the massive tank above. However, if the contestant wins, then I will be the one getting the slimy surprise instead!” Caroline didn’t seem to like the thought of this happening, shuddering as she explained it.

“Right, enough explaining, let’s meet today’s celebrity contestant!” Caroline gestured to the centre stage where the camera panned back to. The studio lights were trained on the archway at the back of the stage whilst a drumroll played. “Please welcome, all the way from America, Hayley Williams of alternative Rock band Paramore!” The small studio audience applauded as the American singer appeared in the archway. She was wearing a black and white patterned short sleeve top that exposed her midriff and a matching patterned skirt with black leggings. Her red-orange hair was styled in a short wavy bob. Hayley nervously smiled to the camera and waved before walking over to Caroline, who greeted her with a hug.

“How are you feeling Hayley?” asked Caroline.

“Very nervous!” replied Hayley. “But I’m looking forward to winning some money for an awesome charity.”

“That’s what we like to hear,” said Caroline. “Now, let’s get to the challenge.” She led Hayley over to the stage on the right that was still covered by a shiny curtain. Caroline pulled back the curtain to reveal a round stage with one table in the middle of it. On the table was a flat screen TV and a large silver cloche covering a silver platter. Hayley raised an eyebrow in confusion as she looked at the table.

“What do you think we have in store for you Hayley?” asked Caroline.

“I have no idea,” replied the American. “I just hope there’s nothing too gross underneath there!”

“Well, let me reveal your challenge,” said Caroline as the two took their positions behind the table. “In the video for your band’s song, Ain’t it fun, you break several world records. So, we thought that we’d challenge you to break another record.” Caroline took the cloche off of the platter, revealing a large pile of peas and some toothpicks. Hayley frowned, she hated peas!

“You’re not gonna get me to eat those, are you?” she asked, already knowing what the answer was going to be.

“Oh yes!” replied Caroline with a smirk on her face. “Not a fan of peas are we?”

“I hate ‘em!” said Hayley with a disgusted look on her face. “But then again, I suppose eating peas beats getting covered in gunk.”

“Well, fail this challenge and you can experience that too,” replied Caroline, reminding Hayley of the consequences for losing the challenge. Hayley shuddered at the thought of being gunged. “Ok, let me explain. You see those toothpicks there?” Caroline pointed to the pile of them next to the stack of peas. “For this challenge, you are only allowed to pick up the peas with the toothpicks!”

“But they’re so small!” Complained Hayley. She was starting to regret the decision to appear on the show now that she knew her task to avoid humiliation was such a hard one.

“Oh yes,” replied Caroline. “We can’t be making things too easy for you Hayley, can we? I don’t want to be the one getting gunged later, I’m quite happy to push that button and see you get covered instead!” Hayley was looking worried now and the small bit of confidence she had left was quickly fading away. “To win this challenge, all you have to do is break the World Record for the most peas eaten in One Minute using a toothpick. That record is currently a respectable 55 peas.” explained Caroline.

“55! I’m never gonna manage that, I hate eating just one pea!” said Hayley, feeling almost defeated already. “And with the toothpick it’s nearly impossible!”

“Just remember it’s for a good cause,” replied Caroline. “Now, if you are ready, please take your position.” Hayley moved to the other side of Caroline, who then moved around the other side of the table. The singer picked up one of the toothpicks and started to practice her technique.

“There is going to be an independent adjudicator counting the peas, just to make sure I don’t cheat and lie my way out of a potential gunging.” explained Caroline, gesturing to a man with a clipboard and a tally counter. “And can we have one minute on the clock please.” A digital stopwatch graphic appeared on the TV screen that was on the other end of the table. “Ready Hayley?”

“I guess so…” Hayley sighed.

“Right, we are good to go then. Remember, over 55 peas are needed in order to avoid a gunging and to win the full amount of money for charity. In 3, 2, 1, GO!”

The audience started cheering as Hayley got stuck in. She stabbed the first pea and quickly put it in her mouth, grimacing as she chewed it. She kept one eye on the time as she repeated the motions, trying to get as many as possible. She knew that 1 pea was needed every 1 second or so, so she was in a bit of a hurry. About halfway into the challenge, Hayley knew she was behind schedule as she was counting in her head. However, it was hard to keep track as she was focused so hard on trying to actually get the peas on the end of the toothpick. The audience counted down the last 10 seconds as Hayley tried to eat as fast as she could.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1!” The audience cheered. The challenge was over and Hayley threw the toothpick down on the table. She gestured for water, which a runner handed to her. She took several big gulps, trying to get rid of the horrid taste of peas from her mouth. In her head, she had lost count, but was almost certain that she had not beaten 55.

“Hayley, how do you think you did?” asked Caroline, smiling.

“Not very well at all!” replied Hayley. “May as well just gunge me now!” She looked defeated and seemed resigned to her fate.

“Well, nothing is certain until I push that big red button in a few minutes. But even if you do lose, remember your charity still gets £500. What is your chosen charity?” asked Caroline.

Hayley cheered herself up a bit by explaining about the charity, realising that whatever happens she had raised some money for a good cause. She might be humiliated on TV in order to win the money, but it was all in good spirits.

“Ok Hayley, the time has come to reveal your fate. This is the part that I dread too as remember, there is a strong possibility that I will be the one getting gunged today!” Caroline led Hayley from the challenge stage back over to the one where the booth were. The big tank above the booth was now filled up fully with gunge. Hayley looked nervously up at the slop and sighed, realising that it would all be cascading down on her head in a few moments.

“You may have noticed that the gunge tank has now been filled up!” said Caroline, pointing to the top of the booth. “Today’s gunge is, you guessed it, the English traditional condiment, mushy peas!” The mushy pea mixture filling the tank was a murky green colour and seemed very thick. Hayley shuddered at the thought of more peas, she had seen enough of them for one day already! Caroline was equally disgusted at the slop, knowing that she could be the one who ends up getting covered in it. “Right, shall we take our seats?”

The audience cheered as both women walked towards the booths. Caroline sat on the left side behind the podium, with Hayley reluctantly taking her place on the right side. She was perched on the stool, looking upwards at the large pipe that hung ominously above her, ready to drop its disgusting sloppy payload at any minute. It made her sweat to think of all that gunk just sloshing around precariously above. Caroline did a similar thing, looking up with a grimace at the see-through ceiling around the pipe at all the gunge above.

“Ok, it is now time for me to push this big red button here and reveal the results. Will Hayley be going home with £2,500 for charity, or only with £500 and in desperate need of a shower or two to wash off all those mushy peas?” Caroline was looking slightly more nervous now too as her hands hovered above the button that would decide her fate. She dared not to think about all the upcoming episodes in the series and how many times she would have to go through the same experience again. “Any last words Hayley before gunge time?”

“Just thankyou for helping me raise some money for an awesome charity, no matter how much it is. Now let’s get this over with.” She sighed and nervously ran a hand through the front of her hair.

“Ok, audience count me down,” said Caroline, smiling nervously, her hands shaking over the button.

“THREE!” Hayley looked down at her black boots. She thought to herself that she should have really taken them off beforehand.

“TWO!” Caroline sighed, taking one last quick glance upwards at the pipe that gunge could very well be coming out of in just mere moments.

“ONE!” Hayley closed her eyes but kept her head upright. Her shoulders were hunched and her hands were firmly grasping the side of the stool.

“ZERO!” Caroline took one last deep breath before plunging her hands down on to the button, her eyes firmly shut.

From above her head, Hayley heard a click. She took a sharp intake of breath and waited for what happened next…

The first cold splatter of mushy peas hit the top of Hayley’s red hair, sending a tingling sensation through her whole body. She let out a quiet squeal as another blob splattered down on top of her head, followed by several more in decreasing intervals. The peas had near the same consistency of the green slime that Nickleodeon used to use on You Can’t Do That On Television, thick with large chunks in it. The frequency of the blobs of slop became higher as a large mass formed on top of Hayley’s head destroying her wavy hairstyle. The gunge was now a constant stream from the pipe as the mass collecting on top of her head gave way, streaming down the sides and back of her head, attacking the rest of her hair and sticking it flat to her head. Still the downpour increased in amount as streams of gunge flowed down the front of Hayley’s hair and on to her face, covering her disgusted expression with a thick layer of sloppy green slime. Round the back, mushy peas had found their way down Hayley’s neck and into her shirt, trickling down her back. She squirmed as the goo covered more and more of her skin.

The downpour of mushy peas had now turned into a deluge, with slop cascading down at such a rate that it domed of the top of her head, splattering her torso and puddling in her lap and on the bottom of the booth. Hayley’s eyes were still firmly shut as the slime poured down her face and dripped off her chin and down the front of her top, inside against her bare skin. Her outfit was now ruined, matching her already destroyed hairstyle which was plastered to her head and saturated with a thick layer of mushy peas.

The gunging seemed to go on for ever, with the entire massive tank being emptied onto poor Hayley, who still hadn’t moved a muscle, frozen in shock. Her eyes were firmly shut, her shoudlers were still hunched and her hands were still firmly gripping the stool, her nails now digging in to the fabric of the cushion. The only movement was her feet kicking back and forth in disgust. To the left in the other half of the booth, Caroline was looking on in relief, enjoyment and horror at the same time. She had never seen the tank work before, so was impressed with Hayley’s mega gunging but also worried about future shows where she would maybe suffer the same fate that the Paramore singer had suffered today. The audience was loving it, cheering and laughing at the sight of the American being completely covered with gunge.

The deluge was starting to subsidise now, going back to just a steady stream and then frequent splats. These splats soon became infrequent, before almost stopping completely, with the occasional blob falling down. The whole tank of thick, green mushy peas had been emptied onto Hayley, and she looked absolutely covered. There wasn’t an inch of her upper body and head that the gunge didn’t reach, with her lower body and legs taking a good splattering too. A large puddle of gunge had formed in Hayley’s lap, which she pushed past her knees and onto the floor, trickling down to add to the ankle-deep pool of slop in the bottom of the booth. She then raised two hands to her face, wiping her eyes and flicking some of the slime away. She smiled before giggling, looking around at Caroline in the other half of the booth,who laughed with her. Hayley then ran a hand through her slime covered hair, leaving trails in the slime. She ran the other hand through too, slicking back her slimy, and no longer red, hair behind her ears. The occasional blob of mushy peas still splattered on top of her head, adding to the already massive mess.

“Oh my God!” said Caroline, who had now got up from her stool and was stood to the right of the booth, looking in at the very messy Rockstar. “How was it? You’re absolutely covered!”

Hayley was lost for words as she looked down at her top and skirt which were fully green and had blobs of mushed peas sticking to them in lumps. “I don’t know what to say!” she said, wiping more excess slime from her face. “It just kept coming and coming. And it’s so cold! And thick!”

“Well, you have been a great sport for allowing this to happen to you, and in doing so you have won £500 for your charity!” Replied Caroline, keeping her distance, keen to avoid any mess that Hayley might flick her way. Hayley smiled and thanked Caroline. “She only managed 34 peas on today’s challenge, but I think she has plenty more covering her right now. Please everybody give a massive round of applause to a very gooey Hayley Williams!” The audience cheered and applauded loudly, admiring Hayley’s spirit and goodwill to take part and allow herself to be humiliated in such a way.

“That wraps up today’s show, a massive thanks to Hayley Williams who goes away in desperate need of a shower and with £500 for charity.” Said Caroline as Hayley stood up in the booth in the background, slop dripping off of her and onto the floor. “Please join me next week for another episode of Cascade when another celebrity will be hoping they don’t suffer the same fate as Hayley. Who knows, maybe I’ll even end up like it next week! Until then, I’ve been Caroline Flack, see you later!”

Thanks for reading this rather long story, please feel free to leave feedback. I want to know what people think about the concept and the length of the story, is it too long? I plan to turn this into a series, so I’m open for suggestions for victims (although I do have quite a big list already, so I may not consider all of them). 

Cheers,

TripleWAM

Beat It is a reality singing competition from the Netherlands where the losing contestants are eliminated in a variety of different ways (think a better version of 101 Ways To Leave A Gameshow), including some messy and wet ones!

I know a lot of people will have already seen the best of these as they’ve already been highlighted on the Finds page (thanks to Jimmyjim for alerting us to it, and to Kilvin for finding the show’s official Youtube account), but it’s an excellent show and I thought it was worth re-posting to the front page.

Unfortunately recent episodes haven’t quite lived up to the early promise, but here’s a round-up of the pertinent scenes (let me know if I’ve missed any):

Slime & Gunge

Show 1 (Slime)

Show 4 (Slime)

Show 4 (Mud)

Show 7 (Tar and Feathers)

Cake

Show 2

Show 4

Water

There’s a lot of water dunking style eliminations and most of them are pretty poor in my opinion (if the show has a weak link, it’s general lack of aftershot), but a few of the better scenes are below for those interested:

Show 4

Show 6

Show 7

‘The Nick All-Star Variety Hour’ was a comedy show recorded in front of a live audience, which aired on Nickelodeon between 2012 and 2017. Its format was similar to that of ‘Saturday Night Live’ except that it featured humor aimed at younger teens and thus rarely attracted big name celebrity guests. However, on occasion, the producers got lucky with their bookings and the result was a particularly memorable sketch.

The closing sketch for an episode taped in the summer of 2014 was entitled ‘Doctor Goo’. It began with a pre-recorded sequence of a green phone box resembling the TARDIS materializing on a street corner as a modified version of the iconic British sci-fi played in the background. When this ended, lights went up on the studio set, an extremely poor impersonation of the TARDIS interior created on a shoestring budget. One of the show’s lead actors, Kevin Maitland, stood with his back to the camera and abruptly turned around. He was wearing a ridiculous costume combining elements of various different Doctor Who personas (a scarf, a bowtie, and brightly colored trousers with a long coat) speaking in the best faux-English accent that he, a native Bostonian, could muster. It wasn’t very convincing.

“Aha! Welcome travelers!” he cried, “I am Doctor Goo and this is my inter-dimensional bakery. As I’m sure you know I am a master baker *ahem* famed for my travels through slime and cakes… I mean, time and space.” He was stirring a bowl of ice cream with a plastic sonic screwdriver prop and paused for a moment to taste the mixture. “Mmm, I think this vanilla slime is almost ready. Unfortunately, I’m traveling alone now as my previous assistant left me rather abruptly. Something about ruined hairdos and inflated dry cleaning bills, I forget the details…”

A loud knocking sound interrupted his musings and he walked over to the edge of the set to open the door. The audience gave a cheer as in stepped Clara Oswald (played by the ravishing Jenna Coleman), wearing a tight red dress and matching sneakers. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She said, “I was looking for The Doctor.”

“Well, Miss…

“Oswald, Clara Oswald.”

“Well, Miss Oswald. I’m happy to say that you’ve found him!”

She furrowed her brow, “oh, are you sure that you’re him? You look different. Have you regenerated?”

“No, in fact I’d say that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in weeks!”

The audience groaned as Clara turned back towards the door and said, “I think I’m in the wrong place. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

“Well, hold on a second! Perhaps I can help you find the Doctor that you’re looking for, my ship here can be very useful, let me show you.” He put his hands on her shoulders and turned her gently around, guiding her to the command console in the center.

“Your ship isn’t very big… My Doctor’s TARDIS is a lot bigger on the inside than it looks on the outside.”

“Sounds to me like he’s compensating for something! But anyway, take a seat and we’ll see if we can find him.”

With his hands still on her shoulders, he motioned for her to sit. Of course, what Clara didn’t know was that the chair he’d led her to was already occupied—by a thick banana cream pie. Her ignorance didn’t last long though as her backside sank into it with a squelch and she gave a little shriek and jumped back to her feet. The cream and filling had oozed all around the bottom of her dress and there were smears of it across her thighs too.

“Look at this! I’m covered!” she cried, glaring daggers at Doctor Goo.

“You think you’re covered now? Just wait ‘til the end of the sketch!” he said with his head turned knowingly towards the audience.

“What was that?”

“Uh nothing, sorry about that pie. I’m always leaving them out to cool and forgetting where they are. It’s an honest mistake! Now, if you’ll hold this I’ll get my ship in orbit and we can find your Doctor.” He handed her a large sheet cake with rainbow icing that was obscuring most of the console. It was cumbersome and she had to hold it with both arms stretched out in front.

Doctor Goo began furiously typing away at the command console (a cheap computer keyboard spray painted gold), narrating as he went. “Okay, Miss Oswald, I think I’ve got a location on your Doctor. We’re on our way now.”

“Thank goodness. I can’t wait to find him and get a change of clothes.”

“Oh dear. It seems we’re approaching an asteroid shower, this might be a bumpy ride!” To emphasize this point, Doctor Goo began wobbling from side to side while clinging onto the rail beside the console. Eventually he allowed his grip to slip and did an elaborate pratfall, which was really just an excuse to knock into Clara and send the sheet cake flying right into her face!

The cake’s plate stayed in place for a few seconds, obscuring her head and a large portion of her bust, before slowing peeling away and tumbling down to the floor, leaving a sticky rainbow smear down the length of her dress and landing right on her sneakers. Her face, neck and chest were plastered with a thick layer of icing and she had to use her fingers to scoop it out of her eyes in order to open them. She threw her hands to her sides in a ‘what-the-hell’ gesture as the audience alternated between sympathetic gasps and chuckles at her misfortune.

“Oh no! I am making a mess of you… don’t worry, you stay right there and I’ll get some water to wash you off!” Doctor Goo ran to the nearest bucket he could find, held it up and hurled its contents in Clara’s direction before she could stop him.

Naturally, the bucket did not contain water. Clara realized this the moment she saw a large yellow blur flying in her direction, but there was no time to do anything but scrunch up her face as a bucket load of custard sloshed over her head and dripped down her body.

“That’s not water! I got the wrong bucket… hang on a tic”

“No, honestly, it’s fine” said the shivering Clara, but her plea went unheard and soon Doctor Goo was flinging a second bucket at her. This one impacted with her chest and blue slime exploded all over what had been the cleaner part of her dress and her upper legs.

“We’re getting closer, I think. At least that one was blue…”

“That’s enough!” said Clara firmly. “Let me off this crazy machine right now, you’re a nutcase!”

“I say… That’s rather rude of you!” cried Doctor Goo, “I was only trying to help clean you up.”

“The only reason I need cleaning up in the first place is because of your bumbling, you and this ridiculously tiny ship of yours. I can honestly…” She didn’t get to finish her sentence as two gloved ‘robotic’ hands emerged behind her head and abruptly sandwiched it between two custard pies as she gave a muffled scream. The first hand followed up on this with a third pie smeared slowly across her chest, which caused the faintest flicker of a smile to show on Clara’s lips. The second hand then swung back around with a fourth and final pie that it slapped right against her backside, making her jump forward slightly with a squeal as it exploded over the back of her dress and legs.

“You really shouldn’t insult my ship you know, it has a life of its own and it gets offended ever so easily!”

“I noticed.” Clara sighed as she cleared her eyes yet again and slicked her sticky hair out of her face. “You’d think the useless hunk of junk would be used to insults if this is the way it treats its guests… oh no…” Clara’s sentence petered out as she felt one of the ‘robot’ hands holding the back of her dress open slightly while the other poured the bowl of melted vanilla ice cream Doctor Goo had been stirring earlier down her back. Once this bowl was empty, she didn’t even have chance to catch her breath before the hands were back and giving the same treatment to the front of the dress. One pulled her neckline forward  slightly as the other poured melted strawberry ice cream right into her cleavage! Clara’s mouth was wide open in shock and she very nearly broke character as the freezing ice cream ran through her dress and slithered down her legs.

“Erhm… I can only apologize for my ship’s behavior…” said Doctor Goo meekly as Clara gave him a look that could turn milk sour.

Her teeth chattered as she spoke, “Oh sh-shut up! I d-don’t want to hear any more. I’m getting off right now and if you or your ship try to stop me, I won’t be held accountable for what happens next!” she stormed off the set, ignoring Doctor Goo as he cried after her.

“…but wait, Miss Oswald… we’re currently hovering above…”

*KER-SPLASH*

“…the Stinky Swamps of Smuyphus” he said as Clara re-emerged on set.

The audience burst into laughter at her appearance. She’d been very messy before, but now she was utterly unrecognizable. She was coated head to toe in thick green slime, both the color of her dress and her hair color were impossible to tell as the green glop clung to her like a second skin.

She spoke through gritted teeth. “You’d better hope you CAN regenerate, because when I’m finished with you, you’re going to need it…” She charged at him as he scuttled off the set, the lights went down and the audience burst into applause.

A few minutes later, the whole cast came out to close the episode and offer their sincere thanks to their special guest, Jenna Coleman. She emerged to a fresh round of applause, wrapped in a fluffy dressing gown with her hair still sopping wet. “You were a real trooper in that sketch, Jenna,” Kevin said as she laughed appreciatively.

“Well, it was a lot of fun even if I’m going to need a few more showers to get the last of that ‘swamp slime’ off me!” she illustrated her point by running her fingers through the back of her hair and flicking away remnants of green goo. “Clara’s met some strange characters in her time, but I think Doctor Goo was one of the worst! Still, I think it’s time for some revenge…”

While they were talking the other cast members had snuck up behind Kevin and they emptied a bucket of green slime over him on cue. Jenna followed this up by nailing him in the face with a pie she’d been hiding behind her back.

“I guess I deserved that…” sighed Kevin, as his castmates took turns to hi-five Jenna behind him. “Well, that’s our show for tonight! Tune in next week for more spoofs, goofs and gags!”

[Author's Note: Well, there it is, my first attempt in creative writing in at least a decade! If you can't tell, I'm not actually a Doctor Who fan so I apologize if I haven't done justice to Jenna's character. My friend showed me an episode the other week and this idea just popped into my head while we were watching, I saw nobody had written a story about her before so I decided to give it a shot. I hope you enjoyed it.]

Short version:

I want to make a page that introduces new readers (and hopefully contributors) to the wide, wide world of TellyGunge, from its roots to its present form. To do that I need to know who the community thinks are the biggest names on the site, and what the site means to you. DISCUSS.

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Long version:

I’m thinking of making a page about what the blog is, some of its history and who some of the bigger names on here are. Here’s how each of those sections would be broken down.

First off, what the site is. Now, the site itself is described by TG (the person) as “The free and open blog about messy ladies”, and that’s a fine summary, but what that entails would be expanded and elaborated on in this “Who we are” page. This would include things like:

• The sharing of videos and screenshots of women getting messy, primarily in television shows.
• How we’ve had messes from other media also end up on here such as music videos, movies and even comic strips on occasion.
• The wide range of messy fiction present on the site.
• The discussions about WAM in general we’ve had from time to time.

This leads into the history of the blog, from how it started as another medium for clips and pictures to be shared through, to how it branched out into other areas, and to its place now as one of the foremost sites for what’s now dubbed “mainstream WAM”. Notable events like the GGPs and Brucegate would also get a mention.

Finally, the issue of the “big names”. I have twelve people I’d consider to be the “big names” on here, but I’m sure people would disagree with some of them, and even more would say I’m missing people out. After all, that’s a vague term, but that’s a necessity when dealing with the wide range of content available on here. Or is it? So there’s a discussion point – who are the “big names” on the blog, and why?

Once that’s settled, the people mentioned in the list of names would need to be described to the reader, and that’s where introductory paragraphs would come in. Things that I’d mention in my own introduction would be:

• My body of work (not just stories, but also things like Music Monday or the various discussions),
• Why I choose to write those things in particular,
• Which other WAM sites I’m on and any WAM-related social media accounts I hold
• What my actual interest in WAM is,
• And some of my non-WAM interests.

I’d leave introductions up to the people mentioned if they wanted to do them. If they wanted to let someone else write them, that would be fine. If they just wanted to say something along the lines of “I exist, here’s what I contribute” and leave it at that, that’s also fine. If there’s anything in the above list I’ve missed out, feel free to say, though some stuff I’ve deliberately omitted. Anonymity, y’know…

The reason I’m bringing this up instead of going straight ahead and making this is that while I lead the community here, I am not the actual community itself. Such a page would have to reflect the wide array of talents and personalities that this single interest of messy women has brought forward. As such I feel it is my duty to ask you all what this site is to you all and who you all think are the main players here, just as it is my duty to try and get as many readers and contributors as possible. After all, how many potentially great authors are just out there lurking, unsure if this is the right platform to share their stories? We may never know for sure, but by getting plenty of clear information about who we are out to them, we can make sure that number goes down for the right reason: because they want to write for us.

DISCUSS!

The eighth episode of Beat It appears to be the last in the series. We can only hope it returns next year, but at least it went out with a good slime scene.

The final episode also featured the return of the cake catapult, but unfortunately the aim on the first shot was a bit low.

Slime

Cake

Water