The Pie Pod

The first story in the

‘Benton Country Club’ Series

Written by Sunflower

The Benton country club was the center of social life in the small collection of houses and shops that formed the little bedroom community some nine miles east of Yazoo City. The club was known for hosting a number of social events throughout the year, and also severed as local hang out for students from the local academy, Benton Academy. The academy was nothing more than a former segregation academy turned private school. The bulk of whose students held from the petite bourgeoisie, poor hill farmers and shop owners who had snubbed by the bourgeoisie of neighboring Yazoo City.

Tonight the country club was hosting of its many ‘Social Gatherings’ as such the common room was filled to the rafters with people. Most of whom where chattering away over the loud music that filled the common room, somewhere dancing others were sitting by the refreshment table, nursing a cup of spiked punch or something else of that nature. Few if any paid attention to the strange spider like contraption tucked away in the corner of the room.

At the center of the thing, one would find an old leather back chair, a brightly painted bull’s eye sat behind the back the chair. Fanning out from the chair five to seven ‘hands’ each one held a gram cracker pie tin that had been filled to the brim with cool whip. If one shifted their eyes upward, they would then come across a large clear container that held what seemed like ten gallons of pastel pink colored slime.

Standing beside the pie-pod where three young women, each one were tall for their age, all three had bleach blonde hair and three seemed to have an air of haughtiness about them. Judging by their sun kissed tan and lean figures one could say to a sports club or something. Those informed on the social hierarchy of the school would be quick to tell you that the girl in the center was the captain of the varsity cheerleading squad and the two surrounding her where her co-captains a position that allowed them to rule over all the females in the school via the influencing of the fabled ’PomPom Fortress’.

“We need somebody to go into that thing.” The middle one said to her other two. The other two nodded their heads in agreement.

“There an upstart tenth grader, the one over there on the girl side of the room, the one wearing that pink and white dress with the white pumps.” One said taking a deep breath as she zoomed in on a shy girl sipping punch from a paper cup halfway across the room. Her sleeveless pink and white dress that reached down to knees, white pumps, and a faux leather purse with a pink ‘L’ sewn into the middle rounded the outfit out.

“Sounds like the perfect one, what do we know about her though?” The leader said to her two followers as she grinned toward the scared and unsure looking girl.

“Lane Taylor Edwards, sixteen, belongs to sporting team, nor school clubs. Tries to pass herself off as lady by always showing up for school in dress have and heels.” The other henchwomen said grinning a little. Then with a good touch of mirth and wormwood she quickly added. “If you ask me, she nothing more than little worm trying to act better than she really is.”

“So does she have any brothers or sisters that we know of?” The leader asked.

“One younger sister, name is Katherine James Edwards. She a cheerleader oddly enough, though she one of the Junior High runts. She has a little skill, but kind of a brat, all in all she nothing to brag about. Goes by Katie, needs to bring down a peg or two herself.” The second Co-captain said with a sigh.

“Policing the school is such hard and thankless work. But it’s what we do girls, we keep the garden free of weeds, it’s a hard and thankless job, but as keepers of the school spirit, we gotta do it.” The Captain said with a sign.

“Amen.” The other two said. The stage was now set.

The music started to die down a little and the lights started to dim. The old digital clock on the wall read eleven o’ clock in the evening. One more hour and the witching hour would be upon them. A silent hush was quickly falling over the crowed. Everybody knew the party was about to draw to a close and another Saturday night social would come to an end. But there was one more matter to attend too. For no party would be complete without a parlor game or two.

“Good evening ladies and gentleman.” The captain “I’m the host with the most, the wonderful and beautiful, the one and only Linda.” Linda said smiling as she peered toward the gathered crowed. Like a sun bathe at the beach she soaked in there applause and reveled in the glory.

“And joining me this evening are my two lovely friends. Give a big Benton country club welcome to.” She offered her hand in the direction of the two girls from before. Who were standing at attention as they waited to be formally introduced

“Kimberly and Tanya, my two co-captains and my best friends since element school. Linda said smiling as she pointed toward the two. Bother girls smiled and waved as they joined Linda in the center of the floor.

“As you know,” Kimberly started as nod her head in Kimberly direction. “We’ve been kind of going over a few games we can play. And one idea we’ve come up with is this.” She makes a ‘Come Hither’ sign with her hands as three hands brought out three wooden stools. Once she stools where in place she turned her eyes toward Tanya.

“The game where going to play is called ‘The Benton Country Club Melody’ and here how the game is going too played.” She said holding up stack of index cards. “Written upon each of these cards is a task one must perform. If they refuse or can’t do it, they can take a trip to be.”

“Pie Pod.” Linda said smirking as she pointed toward machine. “Four creamy pies and let’s not forget about the crowning glory. Ten gallons of bubblegum pink slime to top it all off, just enough to cover the person seated below in a shower of goo. She said pointing to the container above the chair.

“Of course, where going to need three people to take part in are little game, so raise your hands high if you wish to take part in are little stunt. I’m look for one lovely lady and two guys.” She said smiling softy as she turned toward Lana who was shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

“Oh you’ll be perfect.” Kimberly as walked over. Peering into Lana’s eye and smirking to her face, she reached down and took her by the hand. “Come over here honey.” She said sitting her quickly down upon one of the stools.
Once Lana was seated upon the wooden barstool she folded her hands in her lap and smiled a little as two other guys where brought down. The first one was a strong, well built football player and the other one shy boy with short black hair, coke rim glasses and the classic white button down shirt with the tails tucked into a pair of olive gray slacks. Oak brown penny loafers rounded out the outfit.

“Okay,” Kimberly said smiling once everybody is seated. “In my hand, you’ll see a dozen or so cards. She said holding a stack of small index cards. “I have a collection of index cards, there a task written upon them, I’m going to shuffle these cards and place them to their foreheads.” She said starting to shuffle them around.

“They can choose to do the task, or they can go to the pie pod.” Tanya said giggling a little as she pointed toward the machine in the far corner of the room. “

“Right, honey now you have two choices, you can either take the card or you can go to the pie pod, which shall it, be? Linda said taking a deep breath as she peered toward the collection. “Which shall it be honey.” Linda said walking over to Linda with a wicked little smile she peered into her baby blue eyes.

“Okay honey, you can ether do the card or go to the pie pod.” She said smiling toward her.

Lane took a deep breath as she peered toward Linda. “I’ll do the card.” She said blushing as reached up and taking hold of the card. Quickly a deep blush colored her face as she read the bold message typed onto the card. ‘Sample some Happy Chow Dog food’ the message read.

“Oh tough luck honey, looks like you might have to sample some are own brand of dog food. Benton Country club is proud to sponsor by ‘Happy Bark Dog Chow’.” Linda said nodding her head toward Tanya with a little smirk upon her brow. With a sway of her hips the blonde cheerleader brought out a small can of moist dog food. The label on the can of food showed a smiling husky. Big bold yellow letters loudly proclaimed that ‘Twenty five percent more beef’ was now added to the mixture. With a suggestive wink, Tanya pulled open the cap back and rolled the tin top back. Still smirking she held it under Lana’s noise.

“You need three big spoon full honors. Or you can always go to the Pie Pod.” Tanya said shoving a plastic spoon down into the big, brown chucks of process meat.

Lane made a face and taking a deep breath peered toward the pie pod.

“Okay I’ll go toward the pie pod.” She said signing a little ass he was lead toward the pie pod. Each step she took told the pie pod seemed to taking one step closer to her own doom. She was reminded of a women going toward her own death, kind of like one sees in those old movies set in the high middle ages. Taking a deep breath she forced herself to pause as she peered toward the machine. It was around this time, about three seconds after she paused to collect her thoughts that Tanya came up behind her and took her by the hand.

“Come along, sweet heart, where going to take good care of you.” She said taking her by the hand and guiding her up to the leather seat. Grinning like a kitten that’s just cornered a mouse, she eased Lana down into the seat; still smiling she strapped her in.

“Now, sit back nice and straight for us and smile for everybody.” She said grinning as she placed her foot down upon the air pump, pushing down upon the pump with her toes she moved the seat up a tiny hair with each push till Lana was perfectly in line with a big hand pained bull’s-eye. Once she came online Tanya quickly removed herself from the line of fire.

“Okay good people of the Benton Country Club, you now have a choice. Will Lana receive one, two, three or four pies to the face?” The host said holding up four fingers from her right hand.

“Give her four, thick pies!” The crowd responded.

Lana took a deep breath as she waited the pies to be launched. Quickly she drew in a deep breath as she waited with baited breath for the pies to launch. She only had to wait a second or two before the first pie was launched, the pie sailed through the air and with a loud smack, it landed on the side of her face.

Lana felt a deep blush color her face as the first traces of cool cream landed upon her burning cheek bones. Another pie was launched a few seconds after the first pie touched down. The second one scored a direct hit upon her face, big pieces of cool whip splattered in all direction as the gram cracker crust exploded upon impact.

At this point, Lana felt like she was going to break down and cry as another big pie came crashing through the air, the pie landed right in the center of her lap, causing her crouch to covered in nice thick pie. A low groan escaped her lips as she felt the oil based pie filling sink into the fabric of her cotton sundress.

Finally the last pie came soaring through the air, this pie lands upon her breast with a shattering sound as her the two round perks are covered in nice cool cream. The feeling of the cool cream sinking into her clothing is more than Lana can take as large tears start to fall down her cheeks.

“Well done, well done.” Linda said smiling a little. As she made her way toward the front row where a group of varsity footballs sat with their cheerleader girlfriends upon their lap. “But like I said before, we have perched above Lana’s head ten gallons of bubblegum pink slime. Made from four Betty Crooker yellow cake mixes and eight brown eggs and three cups of veggie oil. All kindly donated by Brother Bob Lin. Now in a minute all of that will come falling down upon little Lana’s head. But first I’ll like to call down Lana’s little sister Katherine, or Katie come on down girl.”

A minute later, fourteen year old Katherine joined Linda in the center of the common room. The girl wore her long blonde hair tied and braided back in a cute fishtail ponytail. She wore simple, colorful short sleeve blouse featuring twilight sparkle. Blue jean shorts and simple white trainers rounded out the look.

“Now honey.” Linda said smiling a little as she wrapped her arms around the girls shoulder. “We all know you love you big sister. But I’m sure there some days when she can a big pain.” She said nudging Katherine toward the pie pod. “Well like I said before, we have something called the crowning glory.” She said nodding toward Tanya how was holding the cord that would release the goop down upon the sixteen year old.

“We’ll where going to give you a choice; you can either pull that cord sending that slop down upon sweet little already covered Lana. Lana can get out of the seat and we’ll let her pull the cord of you.” Linda said grinning softy

A minute before switching her gaze toward Tanya holding the cord in her hand. Quickly she walked up to Tanya and without giving it another thought she took the cord from her hand and closing her eyes she gave it a good hard yank, sending a waterfall of bubblegum pink slime down upon her head. The slime fell with a loud smack, covering her already cream covered hair and soaking her shoulders and nailing the final nail into the demise of her dress.

“Well done Katherine, and well done Lana.” Linda said grinning ear to ear as peered toward the ruined girl. Already she could hear the licking of little fingers pecking out text and the flash of a dozen or so snapshots. With the humiliation at fever pitch she turned toward to face the crowed. “And remember to check out our Face book and Twitter page. For all the highlights of tonight’s event and every other event. And remember right now Benton Country Club is on YouTube.”

At this point, Lana broke down, not only was her public humiliation witnessed by dozens and dozens of people here at the country club, it was now being uploaded on the World Wide Web, and the weight of the shame was crushing.

At this point, the whole school crowed was laughing and cheering and sounding cat calls and whistles. As the crowed mounted a fever pitch, one of the girls walked over to the cord and pulled open the trap under the bucket. A blinding waterfall of bubblegum pink slime fell down upon Lana’s head. Coating her and totally ruining her dress.

“Let’s this be a warning ladies,” Tanya said smirking as she walked up to the shaking Lana, who at this point may or may not be crying under all the slop that covered her. With a killer grin she reached down and spooned some of the cream off her face and licked it off her fingers.

“Try acting better than us, and we’ll bring your bitch ass down.”

This is the fourth year this has been ran now, and I’m up for having one again. I might do a spiffy logo, I might not. I dunno. Anyway, same categories as ever, and right now we’re just looking for suggestions for who to vote for.

Best Celebrity Wamming: Self-explanatory; any media personality who got gunged, pied, pitted in mud or whatever else, as long as it was messy and (preferably!) as long as it was good.

Best Messy Show: Another simple one. Any TV show from anywhere in the world, so long as it aired in 2015 and delivered mess on a regular basis.

Best Civilian WAM: Any clip or event where someone other than a media personality or a WAM model got messy.

The Holy Grail Award: For any clip that was previously lost in the mists of time and was revealed in the last year.

The Goolitzer Prize: For WAM fiction that was written and posted here in 2015.

The Showercap of Shame: For when something just didn’t go our way, or was a massive let-down. I know some of you have plenty of ideas for this “award”!

And, if there’s enough of a response to it, I’d like to add another category: Best Producer-created Wamming: For any messy clip or photoset that was created specifically to titillate the consumer.

Please only nominate one thing for each category, and where possible try to nominate something different to what someone else has already put. You don’t need to nominate for all seven categories, however. I’ll keep the nominations up until the 26th AKA what would be Boxing Day if it hadn’t fallen on a Saturday this year.

Not a new clip, but a better version of an old one. Full build-up, improved picture quality… No doubt someone will make this a last-minute nomination for Holy Grail.

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.

—

Merry Christmas!

So, it’s been a while. I just took an impromptu break from writing due to a busy life. Not a bad thing for readers either. NGYOB WILL be back, and with some victims that some of you sent into me a while back. But I can’t say when that is yet – it won’t be immediatley in the New Year.

However, because it’s been a while, I figured I’d give you all a Christmas treat from Dave. And this really is a Christmas treat. I don’t believe I’ve seen this been done yet, so allow Dave to serve out some much owed Justice…

Now this is a quick story, nothing amazing, but a bit of festive fun – enjoy!

———

Christmas Day 2003.

Get Your Own Back never ended.

But despite this, the host was about to leave…

———

“So, your last show huh? Must be so…emotional.”

“Well yeah. A little bit, but not that much I have to admit. Been with it a while now.”

“I hear the bosses put it up for another series next year?”

“Yeah, didn’t fancy returning though. It’s time to move on.”

The makeup girl smiled into the mirror at the well known Get Your Own Back host.

“Well you will be dearly missed, by everyone. The kids, the crew -“

The door opened.

“And none more than by me!”

Dave Benson Phillips was wearing a slightly sympathetic grin today, standing in the doorway to the room, hands on his sides.

“Will be a shame to continue without you, Lisa.”

Lisa Brockwell lowered the magazine she had been flicking through, and looked at herself in the mirror. She always had had an athletic body, and today was no different. She was wearing one of her many casual tops, and a simple pair of black tracking bottoms, that went nicely with her white trainers. Her hair was a slightly mousy brown colour, with a few highlights of a lighter shade, and was in a bushy looking ponytail, which she could have at her side. In short, she was looking as normal for the day – she hadn’t bothered with anything christmassy, but she would wear a santa hat along with Dave for the intro of the show.

The series was going to be changing after today, where they were filming a special episode. She had decided to move on to other projects, and the producers decided that once she was gone, they would give the show a makeover. It had been in it’s current warehouse and two ramp Gunk Dunk phase now for 3 years. She had agreed to host one last show along with Dave, to see the year out. It was going to be a good one, after the success of Dick and Dom on the final episode earlier in the year, the producers had got in JK and Joel, up and coming stars on CBBC. It would be a laugh.

“I’m sure you will do well with it though, you managed without me for nearly a decade.”

“Still will be sad all the same, I’m sure you’ll enjoy the fun today though, and that last Gunk Dunk will be special to watch eh?”

Lisa smiled and nodded.

“..Yeap! Will be sad!”

Dave chuckled and left, and Lisa turned back to looking at herself in the mirror. It certainly wouldn’t be sad for her. Lisa in fact hated mess of any sort, but of course a few years back when she took on the job, she knew that it would help further her broadcasting career. Plus, some could have argued that the show was out of it’s glory days of specials, the Dick and Dom show was only to be a final send off, but the producers decided to keep the show on in the end. Lisa though breathed a sigh of relief; she’d always hated the look of the Gunk Dunk, and today would be the last time she saw it.

—

Dave closed the door and walked down the corridor. In front of him the new secretary, on placement, came bustling over.

“Mr Phillips, it’s all ready. The crew are all aware, mums the word and all.”

“Fantastic, I’ll follow you.”

They walked for a few minutes, down some corridors, through a couple of offices, and finally into a studio, a big wall set up around it. They walked across the yellow and blue themed studio, and through the big oak looking doors, crew members checking the mist machines. They walked through the studio doors and into the Gunk Dunk studio. Dave stopped and smiled, folding his arms.

“It feels good to be back to the single ramp days. And you’re sure no one’s dropped any hints.”

The young woman beside him smiled, holding her clipboard without taking her eyes off of the set in front of them, which had been completed the day before, and filled up with some festive gunge earlier in the day.

“Nope. She’s going to get a great present, and a great send off.”

Dave smiled. He wasn’t letting Lisa leave clean.

“Actually, I hope it’s a ‘nasty’ one.”

Dave continued to grin, and then looked at her again, and jumped a little at her shocked expression.

“…In-in the best possible way of course.”

—

The audience cheered like mental as the studio came to life. The lights were all on, some of them slowly flashing. The large projection of the GYOB logo onto the floor was also twirling and there was a big sense of excitement. Around the studio were some extra decorations; around the pillars were some tinsel, baubles and christmas stars hung from the top tier railings, and some around the big oak doors too. Even the mist and some fake snow as the doors opened, and the two hosts came bouncing out, waving at everyone. The GYOB theme had gotten a festive makeover too, with a few percussion instruments stuck into the music. Dave and Lisa waited for the cheering to die down and then spoke.

“Ho Ho Ho, I’m Dave Benson Phillips…”

“And I’m Lisa Brockwell!”

“Merry Christmas and a warm welcome to a very special edition of the gungiest game show, on your television!”

“Oh yes, serving up a gross gift for some adults out there!”

Lisa said this whilst rubbing her hands together and acting a little as though she was a witch. As Dave began to talk she went back to her normal smiling self, but frowned slightly. The autocue that Dave was reading from was strange…

“Now it would be at this point where I would be introducing today’s teams, and the two celebrities we would have on. BUT, that’s actually not going to be the plan.”

The audience muttered a tiny bit, and Lisa looked at Dave, frowning, but a pit forming in her stomach.

“BECAUSE first I have a christmas give for Lisa, so hang on a mo…”

Dave ran to the crew member out of shot, and jogged back.

“Oh man…phew…whew…need to hold off on the mince pies!”

He handed the box to Lisa and smiled.

“Merry Christmas! Thought it’d get it out the way quick!”

She stood there for a moment holding the box and then smiled in surprise at the audience and the cameras. She was suddenly feeling better. She figured it would be a special GYOB gift, bit like the goody bags the kids got. She’d seen other shows do things like this early on…

“Oh…Well, thanks Dave! Thank you!”

She took off the lid of the box and looked down into it, and stared, the smile still on her face, but unsure.

“JK and Joel are not going to be with us here today, and there is no teams or kids either. In fact this is a shorter episode than usual. Why? BECAUSE…”

Dave lifted out what was in the box; a diamond shaped name tag that read ‘Lisa’ and a blue GYOB top. 

“I want to Get my own back on YOU Lisa. A: for leaving, and B: because you have never ever gotten messy. I think it’s right about time you received the mandatory GYOB host gunging!” 

Lisa put her hands on her cheeks and began to shake her head, her smile gone. She knew Dave might try something, a small pie or something like that, but not have her be the victim today. The crew were all smiling, and the audience had suddenly gone mental. Dave had planned this, all of the crew had. Even the makeup girl.

“Dave hang on…hang on…”

The audience quietened, most of them suspecting it was all part of the show.

“Dave I can’t – I won’t – I’m not doing this, I’m not getting gunged.”

Dave shrugged and smiled. Lisa and him were good friends, and he knew she wouldn’t be fully happy with this. But she also didn’t hold grudges, and he knew EXACTLY how to get her to change and take part.

“If anyone here, thinks that Miss Lisa Brockwell deserves a dunk in the gunk, please cheer!”

All at once the audience, completely surrounding her and Dave erupted again. And a chant suddenly began, saying, “Gunge her!”, over and over. She went red and covered her mouth, not out of embarrassment as such, but at the feeling over being overwhelmed by a load of kids, and not wanting to let them all down. She kept her praying expression as she saw two crew members come over toward her and Dave boomed.

“Lisa, Lisa, Lisa…It’s time for you to go and get changed into your new clothes.”

The crew members both took an arm gently each from her, and put them behind her back, almost like a prisoner. Her face had melted into one of utter dismay and embarrassment.

“Because for Christmas I’m sending you, TO THE GUNK DUNK! HAHAHA!”

Dave held up his arms gladly as the doors behind opened. Lisa shut her eyes and almost groaned out in frustration as she was walked away, into the mist of the doors, toward her fate, the audience laughing and happily shouting at the treat they were going to watch. The doors finally closed and Dave spoke to the camera.

“For 3 years Lisa has been a huge help, and a good friend. But I have admittedly, never gotten my own back before on this show. But with finally having a co-host, and one who is now leaving, I’m going to get that chance. So follow me to the brand new Gunk Dunk studio for 2004, as Lisa gives it it’s test run!”

He turned and bounced through the doors into the mist.

— 

The camera came back on and was focused on a pair of relaxed looking feet, toes sticking out over the surface of the gunge below. Lisa hadn’t got any fancy painted nails or anything, they were just a pair of normal looking feet, both pointing slightly away from each other, as the camera zoomed out a little bit and up. It captured her strong looking legs, hunched over the seat with her knee caps level with her feet below more or less. As it pulled away, it showed her skimpy looking black shorts and her tight fitted blue t-shirt that Dave had gifted to her. 

She was sat on a seat which was smaller than the previous series, and really added to the effect of it being uncomfortable for the adults. It was a single ramp set up, much like the 2000 version of the show, before she was host, with three notches going high up behind her. She meanwhile was sat right at the bottom, right above the circular pit which was kept on from last series. The gunge in the tank however was very different from the watery slime they had had. The gunge was especially christmassy; most of it was a dark brown, but in the middle was a large, carefully painted patch of white, with a leaf shaped patch of green and red, like holly. And in the far right hand corner, to her left, was another patch of green, a christmas tree shape with a quick string of white coming from it. It was a label, and upon the label in black lettering was a special message to the lady about to receive the festive gift:

To Lisa,

SMELL YA LATER!

Dave x

Lisa went a little more red as it sunk in; it was a christmas pudding; brown for the cake, white for the icing. The audience were cheering madly, and Dave walked up, christmas hat and all, to a small podium at her side. Grinning like a cheshire cat, he just stood and watched for a few moments as the kids kept cheering and chanting, enjoying the view in front of them. Lisa had time to look at her view again too, because although it looked pretty for once, the actual substances weren’t, and it certainly didn’t smell like a christmas pud. The brown was thick, looking very gooey and sticky, whereas the white was more slimy in nature. And the smell was horrible too, and Lisa was reminded of rotten sprouts or something; she highly suspected that this was on purpose to fit the festive theme. 

“Alright, alright everyone. Welcome to the new look Gunk Dunk, a classic look for the New Year. But as they say, out with old and in with the new. Or perhaps that should be, down with the old and into the new, eh Lis’? 

Lisa sat, hunched a little forward, harms folded across her knees. Her face was very threatening, her lips twisted and her whole expression saying ‘You’re dead’. But despite this, the faintest of smiles was on her face.

“So it’s all very simple. I will ask Lisa three questions and if she gets one wrong, she goes up a notch. And we all know what would happen then, don’t we Lisa.”

She closed her eyes and exhaled slowly.

“Yes Dave.”

“What happens?”

“I go in from a great height. As soon as I get to the top…I go…I go down into the slop.”

She broke into a nervous smile as she continued on her seat to co-present. She hid her face in her hands as Dave chuckled.

“That is correct! Now we have a theme with the questions too, to fit the special season.”

“Of course you do Dave.”

She uncovered her face and looked at him, a fed up smile now sitting on her face, propping up her cheek with her right hand. She couldn’t believe he’d managed this.

“A bit like the ghosts of past, present and future, I will ask you three questions of GYOB past, GYOB present, and GYOB future, with me so far?”

She nodded and closed her eyes, having heard how the round works, hundreds of times.

“Good! OK then, let’s get this show on the road, and her into the pudding! Ha-Hey! OK, the question of GYOB past Lisa, ready?”

“Mhm-hm.”

“I was gunged on this show a few times. But one time I was gunged by two people I’d gunged before, who where they?”

Lisa kept her position and thought for a moment, looking up at the lights and back to Dave. Her expression of being fed up not changing, she answered.

“Mr Blobby and Kirsten O’brien.”

“…Is correct. Alright, you stay where you are.”

The audience booed at this, and Lisa smiled, eyes narrowing a little. She felt wicked almost, everyone against her and she was winning.

“Fine then. You know your past. Question of GYOB present – it’s about a game you should know this – how many colours are needed to be mixed up in the ga -“

“Three!”

Lisa sighed again and leaned back a little, stretching slightly. She was getting cocky, as Dave threw his arms down and looked all around, looking sad.

“She got it right again everyone.”

Once more they booed and groaned as Lisa and smiled and nodded. She was fast slipping into the stereotype of the nasty grown up as Dave was becoming the increasingly disappointed child.

“Alright. You won’t know this one. Question of GYOB future.”

Lisa raised her eyebrows, knowing she may have to go up one notch in a minute if it was about the still to come new series.

“How many notches are you going up today?”

Lisa was stuck for a moment. It was either 1 or 0, obviously. She’d probably go up one notch because of this, but didn’t mind as she would be able to easily stand up half fall in the tank. She wasn’t going to get that messy at all, just her legs and a small spattering perhaps. However before she could do anything Dave threw his cards away.

“The answer is all three!”

Lisa’s eyes widened suddenly, as some of the audience laughed, clocking on a lot earlier than most. A moment later and Lisa’s chair whirred to life.

“Wha -“

“YOU, MADAM, are going right to the very top, ohhh yes!”

The whole audience exploded with laughter and cheering as Dave waved to Lisa, being carried off further up the ramp. She was now totally different from a moment ago, her calm nature gone. She was shuffling her feet and legs about and taking looks behind her, realising that she really was going right for the top of the ramp. When it came to a stop, the sirens rang out and the studio flashed. Lisa spun back around, leaning forward just to somehow try and tell herself she hadn’t moved. But she had.

“Oh Lisa m’dear, you are at the very top up there. Oh yes.”

“THAT’S NOT FAIR!”

“What?”

“It’s not fair, I was doing well and -“

Dave shrugged at her.

“It’s my show, and only my show now! Haha!”

Lisa opened her mouth to argue, then looked behind her, then in front of her and growled, sinking her face into her hands, and almost stomping her barefoot on the foot rest as Dave spoke.

“Well now. This is a treat. For 3 long years she has escaped the cold arm of the gunge, but no longer. This woman up here, Miss Lisa Brockwell. She has been such a dear friend to me, and helped me an awful lot, but she has also been a little mean and cocky too, sometimes being bossy even -“

“None of this is true.”

Lisa looked up, arms folded now and hunched forward looking down at Dave, in the corner of her mouth, a smile had formed, but mostly out of disbelief.

“I’ve been above the gunge, and have been dunked before. And she always used to tell me it would never happen and that she would never be messy, but here we are! Perched at the top of the ramp of shame! Well Lisa…”

He put his hand on the lever to his side, and fully turned to look up at his young co-host, and put his hand on his heart.

“I truly to wish you the best love. A very Merry Christmas to you Lisa and enjoy the pudding. I hope you go onto so many wonderful things. Oh and Lisa?”

She looked down at Dave, placing her hand on her knees.

“What.”

“Thank you for volunteering to test out the new Gunk Dunk! TIME TO GET MY OWN BACK!”

Lisa began to groan out a small cry, as he yanked back the lever and the sparks shot out all around. Her chair started off, and her yell became more audible, as she rolled down the new ramp toward the puddng themed gunge in front of her. As she got closer and closer, she became well aware of the whole situation, her skimpy GYOB clothes, the nastiness and annoyingly pretty gunk below, and the smell of sprouts and cabbage coming to her nostrils. All of this, plus spotting the start of a shower of custard yellow from above caused her to yell out louder this time, a big audible, “NO!’ which continued as she hit the end o the ramp. A moment before it sprang, the yellow above collided with her, going all over her hair, down her top, over her arms and even some onto the top of her legs. It was freezing, and it caused her to go a little more high pitched as she was thrusted forward.It continued to spray, and she felt her cheeks sting hot for a moment; some of the yellow goo from above must have hit her square on her now upward sticking bum. She cringed at this, closing her mouth and eyes as her face pressed down into the gooey, mushy brown of the gunge, her arms an hands comically spread out as though to stop her fall. The back of her head, her back and bum continued down but for a moment stopped, as Lisa was just about visible on the surface for a second, before her upper thighs sank, followed by her behind, her back and then finally with one last slurp, her head was swallowed be the brown and white muck.

“FANTASTIC! Oh yes, I’ve been waiting so long to pull one of these levers, oh man!”

As the yellow dwindled slowly, the gunge churned. The brown and white was a mix in the middle, a funny shape, showing where Lisa had sank. And a moment later she rose, shooting up really fast and coughing a couple of times,before opening her mouth wide for a weak, gut reaction of a shriek. She hadn’t even bothered to wipe her eyes or her face, simply a brown and white blob of a figure stood there, screeching. She stumbled slightly on the spot, still gasping out her frustration as Dave laughed and came round the side to the front of the tank.

“Oh my, oh my. That is totally, disgusting, look at that, she looks horrible – OHH!”

A wet looking stream of green had splattered over Lisa, who had just put her hands to her face, but now kept it covered, as the shower from above slathered her in fresh goo. She slipped backward, uncovering a hand from her face to break the fall, and slipped to her nose in the pool, her leg flailing up from the gunge and sticking up in the air. It was a funny sight, the top of her green head poking out from the brown, a gooey hand covering one half, and in front, a very slimy looking leg poking out for a moment. She finally found with her hand the floor, and her leg disappeared one more into the mire as she sat up.

“That is horrible it really is. I think though that is just desserts, served, just right! Mhm, mm. I can see why kids like it.”

He turned to face is exiting co-presenter as she finally began to wipe her face. To her annoyance, it just kept getting spattered from a weak shower of blue, and her hands that still had plent of muck on. The brown was like a sticky gooey brownie, and Dave knew this as he picked up a bucket to the side of the tank. He scooped some goo up, some of the thick brown, and the slimy mix from gunge falling above.

“I think…here we go…I think a cheer is in order everyone. For being such a good presenter and friend to me, and a good sport today, HIP HIP!”

The audience responded with a hooray, as Dave chucked the contents of the bucket at the recovering Lisa, causing her to sputter and open her mouth wide in shock. She hadn’t been paying attention to what he’d been saying.

“HIP HIP!”

Once more Lisa got a bucket full to the face, and this time spat out gunge as she waded forward, outstretching her arms. She was sure as hell going to try and drag him in.

“HIP HIP!”

He threw the contents at her once more which made her stop and spit out more goo. A fresh coating of yellow on her face, she growled, half smiling at Dave as she lunged forward. He was quick to act though, as he moved back from the tank.

“Woops! Got to be careful.”

Lisa propped up on the edge of the tank, smiling fully now as she laughed at herself and her failure to grab Dave to drag him in.

“Damnit…NO!”

It quickly turned to momentary horror as Dave put the bucket on Lisa’s head. As she stumbled slightly in the gunge behind him, the squelching of it being heard clearly, he walked forward and looked into the camera.

“I wish Lisa the very best, and for 2003 here on Get Your Own Back, that’s it! From all of us here, and from a pretty smelly Lisa back there, have a merry christmas and a happy new year!”

The camera pulled away from him as he held his arms up, looking up and cheering. The kids all ran into the shot too, with everyone waving at the camera, capturing the festivities as fake snow fell all around the studio. In the back of the show, Lisa pulled the bucket off of her head and threw it to her side, giving up and waving to the camera too, barely and gunge wiped from her face, looking pretty brown, white and yellow. A few globs were rolling down her cheek and there was a small drip from her nose, and her hair was completely ruined, claggy and horrible. Below the gunge, she could feel the horrible mess getting everywhere, as she was sprinkled like everyone else with fake snow.

—

Dave sauntered up to the edge of the tank as the camera’s were cut and smiled at her.

“I’ll miss you Lis.”

She sat in the tank, having wiped her face a bit now.

“I’ll stay in touch, and good luck with 2004.”

Dave nodded and gave a thumbs up, then walked away. Lisa nodded and smiled a little, thinking back to the past couple of years on the show. All of a sudden a white stream of goo splattered across her, dripping down her face and causing her to shriek in surprise. She stumbled again to try and get up, and out of the stream. Dave laughed, flicking the button to stay down.

“Forgot to ice the cake, wa-hey!”

And with that Dave Benson Phillips was gone as Lisa sighed in annoyance. Too tired to move anymore, allowing being iced from above, she was turned into a living white statue.

—

Well I hope you enjoyed it! Just a quick random story, where I wanted to tackle the one that always, and forever got away.

See you in 2016 folks, with series 4 of NGYOB at some point in the first couple of months!

-MsM

This is a series of brief and simple stories that I’ve decided to do alongside my more involved work. This will be a bit different to anything that’s gone before but I hope you’ll enjoy it. It’s inspired by some of the early NHP votes on people with unpopular professions (e.g. tax inspector versus wheel clamper). While those votes resulted in mostly male gungings, it’s a great premise for a gunging and an opportunity to mess up some women in uniform.

Note that the contestants taking part in this are fictional characters and the photos are stock images.

Sian Welby strolls into camera shot in a large warehouse type studio. The audience applauds heartily.

Sian: Thank you, thank you! Welcome, to this brand new show called Comeuppance!

More applause.

Sian: This is the show that punishes the zealous, the officious, and the unscrupulous. This is the show where Public Enemy Number One gets a head-to-toe dunking in some seriously nasty gunge! This is the show where you, Joe Public, bask in your moment of revenge!

The audience cheers in approval.

Sian: We have three representatives of different professions facing judgement tonight. You will vote on who should face a comeuppance, by being plunged into this – the Mucky Dip!

Sian gestures to a giant cylindrical vat with the Comeuppance logo on the side. The camera angle is too low to see what is inside, but dry ice billows over the top. Above the vat, a chair is suspended by cables.

Sian: Believe me folks, you don’t want to see what is in there! And you don’t want to know what it smells like either – pwff!! [Waves hand in front of nose as audience laughs]. But one of our three contestants will be going in there tonight – let’s bring them on to face judgement!!

The budget airline check-in clerk
Sian: Our first contestant is Yasmin. She’s 26, from Manchester, and for the past 5 years she’s been a check-in clerk for a budget airline who shall remain unnamed.

The audience boos as a cage is wheeled on with Yasmin inside.

Sian: Now Yasmin, I’m sure many viewers are familiar with this scenario: they’re going on holiday, they turn up at the airport all excited, only to get walloped with a huge charge because their bag is a kilo overweight or they’ve printed the wrong piece of paper. Spending money gone, holiday ruined. What do you have to say for yourself?

Yasmin: [Smiles with gleaming teeth] Well Sian, I’m very sorry if people can’t read the rules before they turn up, but regulations are there for passengers’ own safety. We don’t want our planes falling out the sky because everyone has taken an extra bottle of duty-free on board.

Sian: And what does charging someone eighty quid for forgetting to print their boarding pass have to do with safety?

Yasmin: I’m not here to argue, Sian. It’s very simple: do you want to fly today, or don’t you? Oh, you do? Then please insert your credit card.

Audience boos.

Sian: Whew! With an attitude like that, you may be the one flying – straight into our Mucky Dip! But before we condemn Yasmin here, let’s meet our other contestants; they may be even worse!

The Traffic Warden
Sian: Our second contestant is Tanya. She’s also 26, from Nottingham, and she’s been a traffic warden for four years.

The audience boos as Tanya is wheeled on in a cage.

(Yes, I know it’s a police hat she’s holding. Use your imagination.)

Sian: Now Tanya, I have a bone to pick with you. Last week, I was three minutes late getting back to my car and one of your colleagues slapped a £70 parking fine on my car. Seventy pounds!! For just three minutes!

More booing.

Tanya: [Folds arms unsympathetically] Rules are rules, Sian. It may be three minutes this time, but what if it’s three hours next time? Law-abiding motorists appreciate my work in keeping our streets clear, so I’m confident I won’t be going anywhere near the gunge. [Gestures to the Mucky Dip] By the way, have you got a permit to park that thing here? No tax disc either. [Starts writing in a notebook]. I’ll need to make a closer inspection.

Sian: Fear not Tanya – with luck you’ll be treated to a very close inspection later! Oh, and nice try bringing your hat with you, but you won’t be wearing it if you go to the Mucky Dip! Now, let’s meet contestant number three.

The telesales operator
Sian: Our third and final contestant is Sandra. She’s 28, from Swansea, and she’s been in telesales for six years.

The audience boos as Sandra’s cage is wheeled on.

Sian: Now, Sandra. Call me common-sensical, but when I want to buy something, I go out to a shop and buy it. I don’t wait for someone to hassle me over the phone at 7:30 pm when I’m sitting down to dinner with my family!

Sandra: Ah, but what about the things you don’t know you want to buy? Like that double glazing, for instance?

Sian: [Confused] What double glazing?

Sandra: Exactly! You don’t know that you want it, so you need me to phone and tell you.

Sian: But I don’t…

Sandra: [Yatters with a saccharine-laden voice] Buy the downstairs, get the upstairs free! And we’ll throw in a five year warranty too. May I call you back at midnight, Sian? Is it ok to call you Sian, or do you prefer Ms Wel…

Audience boos Sandra into silence.

Sian: [Gives a bemused look to the camera]. Now ladies, let me explain how this will work. The general public will vote on which of you should face a comeuppance. Whoever of you gets the most votes will be up in that seat by the end of the night, to face some seriously slimy justice!

Yasmin smiles more nervously than usual. Sandra cringes slightly. Tanya puts her hands on her hips and pouts.

Sian: But be warned, whoever of you comes second in the vote won’t be out of the woods either. You’ll go forward to the next episode, to face judgement again alongside two new contestants. Only the person with the fewest votes will walk free, carrying this Jammy Dodger trophy! [Sian holds up a cheap-looking award]. So folks, this is your opportunity to give one of our contestants a richly-deserved comeuppance in our Mucky Dip. Will it be Yasmin, the check-in clerk who loves to penalise overweight baggage? Will it be Tanya, the traffic warden who gives no leeway? Or will it be Sandra, that annoying telesales operator who pesters you in your own home? You decide!

The poll will run until the end of New Year’s Day. There will be an update segment at some point mid-week. Multiple voting is allowed in this vote, but you can only vote once every 12 hours.

The segment opens with a wide-angle camera sweeping across the audience towards the stage, where the three contestants are still lined up inside their cages. Sian Welby stands in front of the Mucky Dip. The seat that previously dangled above the cylindrical vat is now suspended at ground level beside her.

Sian: Welcome back to this the first episode of Comeuppance, the show where justice is swift and slimy! We have budget airline check-in clerk Yasmin, traffic warden Tanya, and telesales operator Sandra facing judgement for their misdeeds.

The camera cycles through the faces of the contestants as Sian lists them.

Sian: And the response has been phenomenal. Votes are flooding in, with our telephone switchboard and internet servers both working at full capacity. It’s great also to see the hashtag #comeuppance trending on Twitter, and there’s been a lot of speculation as to what exactly is in the Mucky Dip. I’m sure its something our contestants are anxious to know too, so without further ado let’s preview the goo!

A ceiling-mounted camera slowly zooms downward onto the Mucky Dip, rotating as it goes. The dry ice fog has lessened, providing a view of the vat’s contents. The predominant colour is green – a dark, murky green with patches of brown and dark yellow. A cross is boldly marked in white goo on top.

The view then switches to a camera mounted at the rim of the vat, giving a close-up out across the gunge. The surface is static and uneven, indicating a thick consistency, but also has a wet shininess to it.

The camera returns to the faces of the contestants as they watch on a screen. There is a general look of “what have we let ourselves in for?”

Sian: X marks the spot! Yes folks, one of our contestants will be plunged into that and then hauled back out for the nation’s viewing satisfaction! [rubs hands together] And let me tell you, vile as that may look, what our cameras don’t pick up is the stench of rotting cabbages and overripe cheese! Ewwww!! [shudders]

The audience laughs enthusiastically.

Sian: But only the most reviled bum will sit in this chair tonight, as chosen by you the public.

The chair consists of a seat and back made of wire-mesh metal, and a couple of safety straps. It is designed not for comfort but to minimise protection from the gunk.

Sian: [Walking across the stage towards the three cages] Meanwhile, the contestant with the fewest votes will walk away, clean, dry and smug, carrying a Jammy Dodger trophy. The second-place contestant will remain in purgatory to face judgement again in next week’s episode. [Stops in front of the cages] And now it’s time to reveal the midway voting results! They are as follows:

Tanya pumps her fists and hisses “yes!”, Yasmin puts a hand to her forehead and laughs nervously, Sandra’s jaw drops open and she puts her hands to her temples.

Sian: Sandra just edging it there, but let me stress that while Tanya has put some distance between herself and the Mucky Dip, the fight between Yasmin and Sandra is very close.

Sian turns towards the cages.

Sian: Ladies, we heard your excuses earlier, but now is your opportunity to appeal to the public directly. Each of you has fifteen seconds to look into the camera and tell the viewers why you don’t deserve a comeuppance. Tanya, you first.

Tanya: [looking relaxed] Thanks guys, keep voting exactly as you have been. I don’t deserve to go in the Mucky Dip; without me our streets would grind to a standstill. It may be annoying to get a parking fine, but the rules are there for a rea–

A klaxon blares. There is a smattering of boos from the audience.

Sian: Well I’m not sure if you entirely convinced our audience, Tanya, but you seem to have the wider public’s sympathy. Now Yasmin, it’s your turn, and remember you’re only a whisker away from a comeuppance.

Yasmin: [flashes her industry-standard smile but looks slightly flustered] I don’t deserve such a horrid fate. Not me, provider of cheap getaways in the sun! True, if you don’t follow the T&Cs you may have to pay a bit more at the airport, but remember you paid bugger-all for your ticket in the fir–

The klaxon blares. There is a moderate level of booing from the audience.

Sian: And finally you Sandra. As things stand you’re getting it, so you better make this count.

Sandra: [looking distraught] Please, please don’t do this to me! I’ll give you whatever you want. 25% off double glazing – 50%! I’ll even extend the warranty to ten years! Don’t want double glazing? How about loft insulation, solar panels!? Just name your product! How about I call you back and we can discuss…

The klaxon blares. Sandra attempts to keep talking until Sian’s remonstrations and the audience’s booing shut her up.

Sian: Hmmm, bribery’s an interesting tactic; we shall see how well it works. There’s plenty of time left for voting, and anything could happen. Folks, it’s down to you: three wrongdoers, one comeuppance, your decision!

Keep the votes coming! Remember, if you’ve already voted, you can keep voting again every 12 hours.

Apologies for not updating sooner. I’ve been unwell lately. Nominations for the awards are now closed. I’m putting the pages together now. Voting will be up soon.

The segment opens with Sian standing by the chair in front of the Mucky Dip. She is flanked by a pair of burly men in guard uniforms, who previously wheeled in the contestant cages in the introductory segment.

Sian: Welcome back to Comeuppance, with me, Sian Welby! As of now polling is closed. Please don’t attempt to dial in, because your vote won’t count and you may still be charged.

Sian and the heavies stroll over to the space in front of the cages where the contestants are waiting to learn their fates.

Sian: I’ve just received the final count over my earpiece, and let me tell you, it’s a close one!

Dramatic ambient music begins to play. The studio darkens except for three stark spotlights focussed on the cages. The camera flits between the contestants’ faces: Yasmin’s gleaming smile has turned to a grimace; Tanya looks calm but slightly uneasy; Sandra has her eyes closed and appears to be praying into her headset.

Sian: Ah look at ’em! I’m so glad I accepted this show! [Grins and flexes her fingers] Ladies, the public have spoken, and their verdict is as follows:

The lights snap back on as the result flashes up on the screens. As the result sinks in, Tanya nods with approval, Yasmin whistles with relief, Sandra puts her hand to her forehead.

Sandra: [wailing] Nooo!! Recount! Recount!

Sian: The result is final, Sandra. Fellers, take her away to receive her comeuppance!

The guards unlock Sandra’s cage, drag her out and march her towards the chair.

Sandra: [frantic] I’ll give you free double glazing! Triple glazing!! Quadruple…

The heavies ignore Sandra’s pleas and plonk her in the chair. They remove her headset and shoes and begin strapping her in.

Sian unlocks the door to Tanya’s cage.

Sian: Tanya, it pains me to say this, but you are going back to Nottingham with your traffic warden’s uniform and yourself infuriatingly fresh, clean and dry. How do you feel?

Tanya: I feel damn good! [Places hat on head and gives a comical salute]

Sian: You also take home this Jammy Dodger trophy, so you can lord it over motorists when you’re slapping them with parking fines. Thanks for coming on the show. [Hands over trophy]

Tanya: Thank you. It looks… wonderful. By the way, did you park your car in the street outside the studio?

Sian: Er, yes. Why?

Tanya: It’s just that there’s a two hour parking limit on that street, and we’ve been here for at least three. Guess you’ll have a ticket by now. I should have mentioned it earlier, silly me.

Sian: [scowls] Just get out of here before I change my mind. Ladies and Gentleman, a grudging round of applause for Tanya please!

There is a slow handclap as Tanya strolls off stage.

Sian walks over to Yasmin’s cage.

Sian: Whew, Yasmin, there was this much in it! You were right on the final approach to your comeuppance, but ultimately you’ve avoided a splash landing – for tonight at least.

Yasmin: I’m just so relieved Sian! Can’t wait to get back and–

Sian: Not so fast! You ain’t flying nowhere, girl. As runner-up, you’ll be back to take part in next week’s vote, so you may get your comeuppance yet!

Yasmin’s smile fades somewhat. Sian walks away leaving Yasmin in her cage. She steps up to a white plinth, which has a big red button set in the top.

Sian: Wow, what a fantastic first episode this has been! Now comes the moment you’ve all been waiting for: it’s time to christen the Mucky Dip! Sandra the annoying telesales operator has been hoisted into position and is all set for her comeuppance! [Looks upwards] Ring ring, calling Sandra! Ring ring! Ha ha! Sandra, why don’t you pick up?

The camera view shows a close-up across the surface of the gunge, the dark green and other muddy colours glistening in all their foul glory, the white cross marking the impact zone. The camera pans upwards. A metre above the rim of the vat, Sandra’s tight-clad feet dangle, the toes slightly curled. The camera continues upwards, taking in her slender legs, then her suit-clad torso with arms folded across it, and finally her exquisitely made-up face, sullen and pouting.

Sian: [tittering] Oh dear, she’s not happy is she? And for once she doesn’t have much to say!

Sian places her hand on the red button.

Sandra: No, no…

Sian: Sandra, on behalf of everyone who’s received an irritating, intrusive sales call at an unsociable hour, HERE IS YOUR COMEUPPANCE!!

Sian thumps the button. There is an explosion of sparks around the studio. Sandra is perhaps expecting to be lowered gently, but instead she plummets at free fall, instinctively screaming as she drops. She disappears into the vat. A wave of goo washes over the rim and runs down the outside as the audience cheers. The cables connected to the chair waggle slightly as a gurgling sound effect (or is it?) plays.

After a couple of seconds the cables jerk taut and Sandra is hauled back out into her original position, while a wah wah wah wahhhh!! sound effect plays. The transformation of the figure in the chair is incredible: in place of the immaculate suit-clad lady sits a gunky, dishevelled blob. Gunge flows out of Sandra’s skirt and strings of slime drip from her feet. Her skirt and jacket have gone from light grey to dingy green and brown, and are weighed down on her figure. Her blouse is saturated inside and out, clinging wetly to her and revealing the shape of her bust.

As for Sandra’s hair, it is buried under a layer of the gunk, with her ponytail draped on her shoulder like a sodden piece of rope. Sandra’s face is also covered, with a piece of white from the cross making a comical stripe across it. Her eyelids are closed.

All the time the crowd are going crazy.

Sandra turns her head to the side and tilts her neck slightly back. Her lips pout and eject an arc of slime, which she swallowed on the way down. She raises her arms in front of her. They spasm a couple of times before finding and wiping her eyes. As Sandra stares at the mirthful spectators, her mouth opens and she utters her first words, but they are overdubbed with the sound of a cow mooing (the show is broadcast with a 15 second delay in order to remove rude words).

Just as Sandra is beginning to recompose herself, a stream of yellow slime, lumpier than that in the vat, descends and bounces off her shoulder, causing her to scream. A second stream, light blue and of similar consistency, comes down directly onto the crown of her head, doming out in all directions.

Sian: Oh wow!! Oh! My! Goodness! What a debut for the Mucky Dip! Talk about double glazing; she got a glazing of her very own there! I think we ought to see that again in super slow-mo.

The scene switches to an action replay, showing Sandra’s eyes boggle as she screams her way towards the vat.

The scene then switches to an overhead camera. It shows the white cross distort and break up as Sandra’s legs plunge into the gunge. Then her seated bottom hits and huge waves of goo wash over the rim. The gunge closes in over the top of Sandra’s head.

Sian: And finally the poolside view!

There follows a replay from the camera mounted at the rim, showing Sandra’s legs penetrate into the gunge as she falls. Her torso follows, and there is a quick glimpse of her horrified face before gunge washes over the camera lens and everything goes dark.

The scene switches back to the present. Sandra has wiped her face, which bears a disgusted expression, and is attempting, with little success, to comb the muck out her hair with her fingers. She sits with her posture stiff and taut, squirming at the cold, smelly gunk squelching around inside her suit.

Sian: Ring ring, calling Sandra! Good thing you sell products over the phone, girl, because you won’t get any face-to-face sales when you look and smell like that! Ewwww, yuck! Ha ha ha!!

Sandra points a gungy figure at Sian, a small grudging smile now on her face.

Sandra: You, Welby, are never getting discounted double glazing from me!

Sian: I’ll live. Seriously though Sandra, you’ve been a good sport and you certainly entertained us tonight, so thanks for coming on the show.

Sandra nods in acknowledgement and her smile widens a little, soon to dissipate as a torrent of pink gunge drops from the heavens and domes over her head. The mooing cow noise sounds again.

Sian: And the muck keeps coming! Thanks for watching folks, and remember, this is your show and we value your suggestions. If there’s a profession that really gets on your wick, let us know, and they could be getting a comeuppance like Sandra’s! Good night!

Credits roll across the screen. Sian goes to the edge of the stage and waves. The camera sweeps out across the audience. The shot cuts to Yasmin, wearing a worried expression as she looks up through the bars of her cage. The scene then returns to Sandra, suspended in her chair, sweeping gunge off of her legs. Just before the scene cuts, a stream of orange gunge rains down on her, causing her to curse in frustration. The final clip is another slow-mo reply, this time of a gunk-coated Sandra being hauled out of the Mucky Dip. The credits end and the Comeuppance logo fills the screen.

Sian strolls out onto the stage to cheering and whistling.

Sian: Thank you very much! Good evening! I’m Sian Welby and this is Comeuppance, the show where the officious, the obnoxious and the opportunistic get what they deserve. If you didn’t watch last week then you missed a treat, as telesales operator Sandra became the first victim of our Mucky Dip! But fear not, for we’re going to do it all over again tonight!

The camera pans up the side of the looming cylindrical structure that is the Mucky Dip. Dry ice mist belches out of the top, and a faint bubbling sound can be heard.

Sian: Tonight we will meet representatives of three professions that really grind the nation’s gears. One of them, as voted by you the people, will meet their stinky comeuppance in our vat of goo! Let’s bring them on to face judgement!

The budget airline check-in clerk
Sian: We’ve already met our first contestant. You may remember that her name’s Yasmin, she’s 26 and from Manchester, and she works as a check-in clerk for an undisclosed budget airline.

Bloke shouting from the audience: Ryanair!

Sian: Neither confirm nor deny!

There is booing and hissing as the two burly blokes in guard uniforms wheel on a cage with Yasmin inside.

Sian: Yasmin, last week the public took a dim view of you hitting your passengers with surprise charges and fees, and you came very close to getting your comeuppance. Has the experience led you to reflect upon your ways?

Yasmin: My conscience is as clear as my complexion, Sian. For your info, we have no “surprise” charges; everything is laid out in the very fine print. Passengers bring it upon themselves if they don’t follow the rules. Just a couple of days ago I had a family of five who were silly enough not to print their own boarding passes. It was a pity I had to charge them a £400 printing fee, but they’ve no-one to blame but themselves. Kaaa-ching!!

Sian: You say “kaaa-ching” because it’s not only the airline that profits from these exorbitant charges. You earn commission, don’t you?

Yasmin: Yes I do.

The audience boos.

Yasmin: [Raising her voice above the din] …And I need it to top up my measly wages. By the way, if I keep getting second place in the vote do I have to keep coming back week after week? This is playing havoc with my rota.

Sian: I have some good news for you on that front. The rules state that a runner-up can only return once, so you will be leaving us tonight, Yasmin… the only question is how! You saw last week just how awful the Mucky Dip is; maybe it’ll be you in there this time!

Yasmin smiles nervously and shakes her head.

Sian: It’ll all depend on whether Yasmin’s fellow contestants are even worse then her. Let’s meet them!

The tax inspector
Sian: The first of our two new contestants is Nadine. She’s 25, from Newcastle, and for the past four years she’s been an inspector for Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs.

The audience boos as the heavies wheel out Nadine.

Sian: Nadine, nobody likes to see their money go to the taxman, naturally, but what adds insult to injury is having to spend evenings and weekends filling in a long, confusing tax return every year. And when people phone HMRC with their queries, they are left on hold for ages at their own expense. A third of calls are cut off before even being connected to an advisor!

Nadine: [Smirks] Shows we run a popular service!

Sian: Just because people have to use it doesn’t make it popular, Nadine. And filing one’s tax return isn’t the end of the ordeal either. HMRC can trawl through anybody’s accounts going back six years, on a whim, looking for the slightest discrepancy! What do you have to say for yourself?

Nadine: Sian, there are a lot of misconceptions about tax inspections, so here’s what I tell everyone I investigate: [adopts patronising tone] if you’ve declared all your income, and paid all your taxes on time, then… [pauses and places hand on chin] oooo, I’ll only give you one or two sleepless nights!

The audience boos and hisses in response.

Sian: So you enjoy seeing people squirm when you dip into their accounts, huh? Perhaps it’ll be your turn to squirm when you dip into our gunge!

Nadine purses her lips and fiddles with her curly hair.

Sian:[Turns to the camera] I’m sure many of you have already made your self-assessment of Nadine. But before you reach for the phones, let’s meet our final contestant.

The estate agent
Sian: She is Victoria, 30 years old, from Guildford in Surrey. She’s been an estate agent for ten years and recently formed her own partnership.

A caged Victoria is wheeled out to the customary booing.

Sian: Hi Victoria, do you speak English?

Victoria: [Frowning] Of course I do.

Sian: Oh, I only ask because you lot are often heard speaking a language of your own. There are even phrasebooks to translate it. [Pulls a slimline volume from her pocket]. For example, “characterful” means derelict, “cosy” means there isn’t space to swing a cat, “investment for the future” means there’s a tenant who can’t be shifted, and “excellent transport links” means there’s a motorway thundering through the backyard!

Victoria: [Shrugging] What can I say? We estate agents look on the bright side of life!

Sian: Only when talking to prospective buyers; you’re not so positive with the seller, are you? You tell them the house is unsellable at its current price and they’ll have to drop it, so that you can get the house off your books and the commission in your pocket sooner!

The audience does their usual booing.

Victoria: Sian, we don’t like the term “price drop” in our line of work. “Market-responsive pricing” sounds much nicer, don’t you think?

Sian: You really do have spin for everything! Well Victoria, I have a property that might interest you. It’s spacious and modern, with wonderful views across the studio, and it has hot and cold running gunge! Actually no, just cold. Fancy it?

Victoria: [grins wryly] Sian, I’ve seen some properties from Hell over the years, but that’s one I really don’t want to set foot in!

Sian: It’ll be rather more than your foot! Ladies, let me recap the rules. The three of you will be put to a public vote. Whoever comes third will walk away clean and dry, carrying one of our trademark Jammy Dodger trophies. Yasmin, the same will apply to you if you get second place. Nadine and Victoria, if either of you comes second, you will earn a temporary reprieve but will have to face fresh judgement next episode. [Pauses and looks up at the Mucky Dip] And you do all understand what happens if you come first, don’t you?

The contestants nod apprehensively.

Sian: Good! [Turns to face the camera] So folks, you’ve met our terrible trio. Now you must choose who gets their comeuppance. Will it be second time mucky for Yasmin, the check-in clerk who earns commission on your airport misery? Will you get revenge on Nadine, the tax inspector who loves to make you sweat under her scrutiny? Or will you punish Victoria, the estate agent whose weasel words could palm off a shed as a palace? The voting numbers are on your screen; the decision is in your hands!

Poll closes end of Sat 9^th Jan. As with the previous poll, repeat voting is allowed, with a period of least 12 hours between votes.

The segment opens with Sian standing in front of the Mucky Dip. Beside her hangs the meagre wire-mesh chair.

Sian: Welcome back to Comeuppance, where tonight we have budget airline check-in clerk Yasmin, tax inspector Nadine, and estate agent Victoria facing the nation’s ire! We’re about halfway through the period of voting to decide whose backside will fill this dreaded chair, and let me tell you, the phone lines are as hot as the gunge is cold!

Sian strolls to the area in front of the contestant cages.

Sian: Ladies, I have here the midway voting tallies, and we’ll take a look at them in a moment. But first, I thought you might like to see exactly what is waiting for one of you in the Mucky Dip. So without further ado, let’s preview the goo!

A bird’s-eye camera zooms in on the Mucky Dip, spinning slowly, while in the corner of the screen a small box cycles through the contestants’ faces, gauging their reaction as they watch on a monitor. The gunge is brighter of colour than in the previous episode, varying smoothly from sweetcorn yellow to pea green through every sickly shade in between, with the odd splotch of light blue providing contrast.

The view then switches to the rim-mounted camera, which gives a down-close view across the mire. The surface of the gunk is rough and irregular, undulating like the landscape of an alien world. The finish is matte and slightly crusted, a bit like custard that has been left out in the air too long.

In the inset box, the women look suitably horrified.

Sian: [pulls a face] Ewwww, doesn’t that look gross? And for the benefit of those watching at home, the aroma wafting out of there is a delicate blend of rancid cream and garlic – yucky yucky! What do you think Yasmin? Even worse than last week?

Yasmin: [with a squeamish look] Quite possibly.

Sian: Well it’s time to find out what the public think. The midway voting scores are as follows:

Victoria: Arrggh! No!!

Victoria gawps at the screens. Nadine visibly deflates with relief, while Yasmin flashes an edgy smile.

Sian: Quite a spread there. Nadine looking the safest and Victoria is right to be worried, but keep in mind we’re only halfway through. There’s plenty of time for things to change, and it’s possible everything could invert, especially after we hear the personal appeals. Ladies, you each have fifteen precious seconds to address the viewers and explain why it shouldn’t be you plunging into that horrid muck. Nadine, you go first.

Nadine: [looks earnestly into the camera] Funny, isn’t it, how no-one likes tax inspectors but everyone wants hospitals and schools. That stuff doesn’t grow on trees, and we make sure everyone pays their proper contribution. Not a penny more, not a penny le…

The klaxon sounds. There are a few boos from the audience.

Sian: Nifty pitch, Nadine. Now Yasmin, it’s your turn.

Yasmin: [impatiently]It’s a cheek that I’m even back here again and I certainly don’t deserve to be gunked. Folks, if you don’t want to be charged, make sure your baggage meets the specs. And print your bloody boarding pass at home! It’s not rocket sci…

The klaxon blares, accompanied by vigorous booing.

Sian: Hmmm, I don’t think they liked being chastised like that, Yasmin. You might regret that. Now, Victoria, you’ve got a non-trivial lead to overturn, so you’re going to have to sell this like it’s a three-bed semi. Off you go.

Victoria: [with a beseeching smile] Buyers and sellers are like men and women: different needs, different temperaments, but ultimately dependent on each other. I’m the matchmaker who brings love to the housing market. So why not show me some love and save me fr…

The klaxon blasts. Boos reverberate around the studio.

Sian: Victoria it was a clever pitch and I liked the romantic touch, but listen to that reaction. Maybe the estate agent charm has worn off!

Victoria frowns and shuffles in her cage.

Sian: [faces forward]. That’s it folks. The contestants have said all they can say, and so have I. Now it’s over to you to deliver your final verdict. Make your voice heard!

Poll stays open until the end of Sat 9^th Jan, and you can vote once every 12 hours. Remember, this is a contest about which character deserves a comeuppance, not which model is the hottest. Just saying.

The segment opens with a wide-angle view of the Mucky Dip. Sian is standing by the chair, flanked by the pair of burly guards. The camera zooms in.

Sian: Welcome to the final part of this the second episode of Comeuppance! You the public have delivered your verdict; now it’s time to administer the punishment! Be informed, ladies and gentlemen, that voting is closed as of now. If you try to vote, it won’t count and you might still get charged for the call.

Sian and the guards walk over to the area in front of the cages, where the contestants are awaiting the news.

Sian: Ladies, we’re just doing the final verification and then its c-time! Victoria, you had a clear lead earlier on. Feeling the pressure?

Victoria: [cringing] I’m hoping it’s turned around.

Sian: And it could well have done, because there has been a lot of votes since the update. That means nobody’s safe, are they, Nadine?

Nadine: [grimly] Nope.

Sian: Yasmin, you’ve gone through this once already. Reckon your luck might have run out?

Yasmin: [unconvincingly] No, I think I’ll scrape it.

Sian: [touches her earpiece] The final result is in!

The lights dim except for three lonely spotlights on the three cages. Dramatic ambient music plays.

Sian: The public have cast their judgement, and their decision is as follows:

Yasmin slumps against the bars of her cage, as the lights snap back on and the spectators cheer.

Yasmin: [half laughing half groaning] No-ho-ho!!

Victoria clenches her fists in front of her and laughs, open-mouthed, with relief. Nadine also grins.

Sian: Oh yes! The tables have turned! Lads, please prepare this lady for takeoff!

The guards unlock Yasmin’s cage and march her, still groaning, towards the chair. Sian, meanwhile, unlocks Nadine’s cage.

Sian: Nadine, it grieves me to deliver this news, but you and your smart suit are going back to Newcastle fresh, clean and dry. How do you feel?

Nadine: Fabulous! [Grins and raises hands in the air]

Sian: Thought as much. You also get this Jammy Dodger trophy to take with you on tax inspections, so that you can really rub it in to the poor taxpayers. Thanks for coming on the show.

Nadine: Thank you Sian, I enjoyed it. I’ll also enjoy going through your tax return; make sure it isn’t late!

Sian: [frowns] Ladies and gentlemen, a resentful round of applause for Nadine please!

The audience do a slow handclap as Nadine walks off stage.

Sian goes over to Victoria’s cage.

Sian: Victoria, it really looked like you were for it, but the public have granted you a reprieve… for now.

Victoria: [still slightly giddy with relief] I’m very grateful. Thank you!

Sian: The bad news is you’re still on the market for a messing. We’ll be seeing you again next week, and you may get your comeuppance yet!

Victoria nods and shrugs as Sian walks away. Sian approaches the white plinth with the big red button set into the top.

Sian: It’s been another incredible episode. Thank you everybody for your participation and support. Now here comes the bit you’ve all been waiting for: Yasmin the check-in clerk has reached cruise altitude, and she’s about to experience some turbulence!

Foreboding music begins to play. The scene switches to a rim-side view at the Mucky Dip, the undulating surface of the custard-like gunk stretching out before the camera. The camera moves upwards, meeting a pair of feet about a metre above the rim. Encased in silky transparent tights, Yasmin’s pink-painted toenails point down at the gunge. The camera ascends her shapely legs, her thighs exposed due to her skirt riding up in her seated position. Next comes her torso, clad in her bulky jacket, and finally Yasmin’s face comes into view. The smile is still there, albeit a very sheepish one as she peers down at the yellow-green fate that awaits her.

The music fades out.

Sian: Look at her up there! She thought she was going to get away with it, but her misdeeds have finally caught up with her!

Sian places her hand on the big button. Yasmin whimpers. Her shoulders hunch and she clasps her hands in front of her.

Sian: Yasmin, on behalf of everyone who’s been stung by exorbitant charges at the check-in counter, HERE IS YOUR COMEUPPANCE!!

Sian hammers the button. Sparks fly around the studio and the spotlights flash full beam. After watching Sandra’s demise the week before, Yasmin knows to keep her mouth shut. She plummets with her lips clamped together and her cheeks puffed up. A ring of goo jumps into the air as she vanishes into the Mucky Dip, quickly followed by a powerful wave washing over the rim and running nastily down the outside of the vat. Only the chair cables remain in sight, jerking from side to side as an unpleasant gurgling sound effect plays.

After a couple of seconds the cables pull tight and a brightly-coloured, human-shaped hulk of gunge is hauled into view, while the audience goes berserk and wah wah wah wahhhh!! sounds. Yasmin’s regal blue jacket is now a garish medley of yellows and greens, the goo hanging from it in big snotty chunks as her shoulders quiver. Her blouse and necktie are likewise recoloured. The gunge coats Yasmin’s squirming thighs and saturates her tights, and has pooled in the seat of her skirt.

As for Yasmin’s head, it is a mere misshapen lump on her shoulders, mostly a hay yellow but with a streak of blue on one side. It is impossible to know where her face ends and her hair starts. The only discernible feature is her mouth, frozen in a contorted expression, halfway between dropping open in shock and curling up in disgust. Her flapping hands rise up and scoop out great heaps of goo from around her eyes. Yasmin’s head spasms from side to side and her shoulders shake more vigorously. As her mouth starts to move, she emits a series of strange, clucking squeals.

Yasmin: Wuh-huh-huh-huh! Wuh-huh-huh-huh!!

A payload of gloopy purple gunge descends from above, pelting Yasmin’s head, shoulders and back.

Yasmin: Wuh-huh-huh-HAH-HAH-HAH!!! Ohhhhh!!

Sian: My oh my!! Absolutely marvellous! She made one hell of a splash landing! That was a richly deserved comeuppance and I’m sure it will look even more satisfying in super slow-mo.

The scene shows a slow motion replay of Yasmin plunging to her doom, looking very comical with her pressed lips, puffed cheeks and almost closed eyes.

Sian: And from above!

The scene switches to a bird’s eye replay. The gunge is so thick that it appears to deform elastically, indenting as Yasmin’s legs sink into it. As the base of the chair hits, a large wave radiates outward, partially spilling over the rim with the rest rebounding to close over Yasmin’s head, swallowing her up.

Sian: And finally the poolside view!

The rim-side camera shows Yasmin’s tight-encased feet and legs pierce through the surface of the thick, wobbling gunk. Her backside splashes down, causing goo to splurt up between her thighs. There’s just time to see Yasmin’s screwed up, gunge-splattered face before the surging gunge reaches the camera and the lens is obscured.

The scene returns to the present, where Yasmin has wiped the worst of the muck from around her eyes, cheeks and mouth. An isolated blob clings to the tip of her nose. There are finger marks through the various coloured layers in her hair. She is now smiling and laughing, taking her humiliation with good humour.

Sian: Yaz, what’s the muck like?

Yasmin: Euuugghhh… it’s cold, smelly and disgusting! My uniform is absolutely full of it!

To prove her point she pushes the lapels of her jacket, causing gunk to splurge out. The audience laughs.

Sian: Well you can keep it in there and take it back with you to your check-in counter. That’ll have your passengers reaching for the oxygen masks! Ha ha ha!

Yasmin: [with a rueful smirk] Woe betide, Sian, if you ever turn up at my counter!

Sian: [snootily] I fly BA. Seriously though Yaz, you’ve been a fantastic sport and we’ve enjoyed your company these past two episodes, so thanks for putting yourself forward.

Yasmin grins and raises a hand to wave to the audience. At that moment a batch of dark green goo descends, giving her hair and shoulders a fresh coating and causing her to duck and squawk.

Sian: Oooo!! There goes the baggage drop! Thanks for watching folks, and remember: if a profession really gets your goat, let us know. It could be them in the Mucky Dip! Good night!

Sian stands at the edge of the stage and waves as the camera zooms out. The camera sweeps across the audience, who are dancing and clapping to the funky outro music. The scene then switches to Victoria looking concerned in her cage, and finally back to Yasmin, who is trying to wipe the goo out of her hair. She flashes a wry smile to the camera and waves. Another load of gunge, this time red, drops on her just as the shot fades. The closing scene is a slow-mo replay of Yasmin emerging from the Mucky Dip, caked in the yellow-green muck.

The show opens with Sian Welby strolling out onto the stage in the warehouse studio, waving to the keenly cheering audience.

Sian: Thank you, you’re too kind! Good evening everyone! You’re watching Comeuppance, with me, your host, Sian Welby! Let me tell you, we’ve been blown away by the level of media coverage we’ve received. WhatsOnTV describes the show as “Dick and Dom meets the Cook Report”, the Spectator calls it “the guiltiest of pleasures”, and historian David Starkey hails it as “the return of the ducking stool”. However, Guardian columnist Miles X. Navilla has condemned the show as “mindless populism”. Well folks, are you ready for some mindless populism?

Audience: YESSS!!!

Sian: Excellent! [Rubs hands together] For those who haven’t watched before, here’s the set-up. We will meet three contestants who work in unpopular professions, and you the public will vote on which of them irritates, exasperates and infuriates you the most. At the end of the show, the contestant with the most votes will get their comeuppance, by means of public humiliation in our Mucky Dip!

The camera pans across the giant, cylindrical vat that takes pride of place in the centre of the stage. The austere wire-mesh chair hangs above it, making clear its purpose. Dry ice mist froths out of the top.

Sian: It’s a bit lively at the moment but we’ll take a look inside when it settles down. So far we’ve seen a telesales operator and a budget airline check-in clerk receive their slimy dues in there; who will it be tonight? Let’s meet the contestants!

The estate agent
Sian: Our first contestant tonight is Victoria, the runner-up from last week’s show. You may remember that she’s a 30-year-old estate agent from Guildford.

The audience boos as the guards wheel out a cage containing Victoria.

Sian: Victoria, how’s your week been since we last met?

Victoria: Well Sian, I’ve had a lovely week meeting lots of wonderful people.

Subtitles appear on the screen as Victoria speaks.

Subtitle: I've had a rotten time mixing with a load of godawful tossers

Victoria: The highlight of the week was helping an elderly couple downsize to a compact bungalow.

Subtitle: At long last, I palmed off that pokey squat to a pair of old duffers

Victoria: It was a difficult decision for them to make…

Subtitle: The old fools dithered about and really tried my patience

Victoria: …but I was able to assure them…

Subtitle: But I cajouled them into buying

Victoria: …that the neighbourhood had all the amenities they needed.

Subtitle: Nice and close to the graveyard

Victoria: I also helped a commuter couple and their delightful children…

Subtitle: Obnoxious yuppies and their spoilt little brats

Victoria: …find a charming and historical town house…

Subtitle: A dilapidated old shack in a traffic-plagued street

Victoria: …with listed status.

Subtitle: Good luck getting planning permission to modernise, suckers!

The audience boos and hisses.

Victoria: [holding out hands] What!? What did I say?

Sian: [tittering] We provided a translation of your estate agent speak! Now Victoria, I’m sure you don’t need reminding, we have a hot property – or should I say, cold property – of our own, and the public might be very keen to help you move in!

Victoria pouts and furrows her brow.

Sian: [turns to camera] Victoria escaped last time, but will she do it again? It all depends whether her fellow contestants are even more heinous than her! Let’s meet them.

The personal injury lawyer
Sian: Contestant number two is Lizzie. She’s 27, from Dundee, and for six years she’s been a personal injury lawyer.

Lizzie is wheeled out to the standard booing.

Sian: Lizzie, we see your tacky adverts on daytime TV. We hear you referred to as “ambulance chasers” in the press. You lot really have dragged the legal profession to new lows, haven’t you?

Lizzie: [sourly] Funnily enough, throughout my career I don’t recall ever chasing an ambulance. What I do do is help people with devastating injuries get the compensation they need and deserve, and I hold those responsible – often huge corporations – to account. Standing up for the little guy against the big guy – what could be more noble than that?

Sian: If only it were like that. The truth is that you injury lawyers clog up courts with frivolous cases of people tripping over, and at the same time you fleece accident victims by taking most of their payout for yourselves!

The audience boos.

Lizzie: You’re exaggerating Sian. Obviously there are expenses that need to be deducted: court fees, representation fees, consultation fees, administration fees, fees for phone calls, fees for writing letters, miscellaneous charges, commission… you can see how the costs add up and eat into the payout. That’s why injury victims need someone like me to secure the biggest payout possible!

Sian: So you can put it in your own pocket! Well Lizzie, you could be suffering a mishap in our Mucky Dip tonight, only it won’t be no accident!

Lizzie snorts and folds her arms.

Sian: [faces the camera] I’m sure many of you are itching to dial in and file your claim against Lizzie, but first let’s meet our final contestant.

The dentist
Sian: Completing tonight’s terrible trio is Meera. She’s 26, from Leicester, and she’s a recently-qualified dentist.

The heavies wheel on a caged Meera, while the audience expresses disapproval in the usual way.

Sian: Now Meera, dentistry may be more respectable than, ahem [looks around], some of the professions featured on this show, but no sane person looks forward to visiting the dentist. Not only is it a thoroughly unpleasant experience – having someone poke, scrape and drill inside your mouth – but you pay an arm and leg for the privilege!

Meera: [Shrugging with a sweet smile] What choice have you got when the alternative is excruciating toothache? Most of my patients try to put off coming to see me, but once they’ve suffered a week or two of incessant agony, they invariably come crawling with their mouths and wallets wide open!

The audience boos and hisses.

Sian: The relish with which you speak disturbs me, Meera. Do you get some kind of sadistic thrill from your patients’ discomfort?

Meera: [guiltily] Not at all, Sian! In fact, I always try to put my patients at ease with a bit of light humour.

Sian: Such as?

Meera: For example, once they’re reclined in the chair, I get out a huge workman’s drill – you know, just for show. The patients never find it as funny as I do, for some reason…

Sian: [edges away from Meera] Well Meera, the joke could be on you tonight, because we have a big, rotten cavity that you will not enjoy filling!

Meera responds with a shy grin and a shake of the head.

Sian: [stands in front of the cages and face forwards] So those are our three villains. Each has a case to answer, but alas not all can be punished. At least one of the women behind me will go home clean, dry and oh so smug, taking one of our coveted Jammy Dodger trophies with her. And for tonight at least, only one will find herself dangling in that chair above the dreaded Mucky Dip! Will it be Victoria, the estate agent who fobs you off with her double Dutch? Will it be Lizzie, the personal injury lawyer who cons you out of your compo? Or will it be Meera, the dentist who takes pleasure in your pain? The decision is yours to make; get voting!

Poll will close at 10 pm on Tuesday 19^th Jan. As with previous polls in this series, you can vote multiple times, with a 12 hour gap between votes.

The segment begins with Sian standing beside the Mucky Dip. As usual, the chair has been lowered from its position above the vat to “docking level” at Sian’s side.

Sian: Welcome back! I’m Sian Welby, this is comeuppance, and we’re roughly halfway through the period of voting to decide which disdained derrière will be riding our chair!

Sian pats the uncomfortable and exposing wire-mesh of the seat.

Sian: Tonight we have Victoria the estate agent, Lizzie the personal injury lawyer, and Meera the dentist facing your judgement. The vote has sparked intense debate on social media, and the voting patterns are very interesting too.

Sian walks over to the area in front of the cages.

Sian: Ladies, I have the midway scores here, but before I reveal them I want to ratchet up your unease, by showing you the contents of the Mucky Dip. So without further ado…

Audience: …LET’S PREVIEW THE GOO!!

Sian: Ah-ah, you’re learning! Very good!

The overhead camera performs its twirling zoom into the open top of the Mucky Dip, while a small inset box cycles through the faces of the three contestants. This week’s muck is two-tone, made up of sharp, alternating bands of deep, dingy purple and funky fuschia pink, curling towards the centre in a multi-armed spiral.

The view then switches to the rim-side camera, which sweeps across the ghastly goo. As always, the surface is very rough and lumpy, swept into irregular crests and valleys. The gunge has a very wet look about it, and in the lower regions appears to be double-layered, where a thin film of liquid has separated from the thicker ingredients, glinting white where the spotlights hit it.

Sian: Looks quite artistic from a distance, doesn’t it, but the close-up reveals its true vileness! For those at home who are curious how it smells, imagine a fish market at the end of a summer’s day! Yuuuughhh!

The audience chortles, while there’s a chorus of gulps, groans and embarrassed giggles from the cages.

Sian: Oh they’re not keen on that, are they? Well ladies, keep that thought in mind as we take a look at the midway scores:

There is a sharp intake of breath around the studio. Inside the cages, three jaws simultaneously drop.

Sian: Wow indeed! Not only is this proving to be the closest vote so far, it’s close three ways! Meera marginally ahead at the mo, but the lead has changed several times during this vote, and it could well change again while we speak! [Moves closer to the cages] Ladies, with a knife-edge like this, I hope you appreciate that your personal appeals are going to be all the more important. Each of you has fifteen seconds to address the nation and explain why it shouldn’t be you going in that pink and purple slop! Victoria, let’s hear your sales pitch.

Victoria: [smiles earnestly and looks into the camera with doleful eyes] I don’t know whether a “translation” is being provided, but if it is, don’t let them put words in my mouth. Estate agents are nice caring people, not at all cynical, and don’t deserve the reputation they’ve g…

The klaxon sounds and the audience boos.

Sian: Victoria, you can rest assured we didn’t put any subtitles on your appeal, but judging by the response, it sounds like our audience translated for themselves! Now Lizzie, it’s your turn to sum up for your defence.

Lizzie: [turns her face haughtily to the camera] All I can say to those who vote for me is don’t come running to me when you’ve broken both your legs! And if you break your arms you can forget about picking up the phone, because I won’t be there to help you!

Lizzie has already concluded by the time the klaxon blares. There follows a similar level of booing from the audience.

Sian: Hmmm Lizzie, the scolding approach didn’t work well for Yasmin last week; let’s see if it works any better for you. [Moves on to the final cage] Meera, the lead may be small, but if that score stands you’ll be getting it, and believe me, our muck is even worse than the mouthwash you have in those plastic cups! Let’s hope you can tug the nation’s heartstrings more gently than their teeth.

Meera: [Smiles innocently at the camera] If I go in the Mucky Dip the trauma could really affect my work. Perhaps I’ll remove the wrong tooth by mistake, or maybe I’ll forget the anaesthetic! Is it worth the risk? Best keep me happy by keeping me out the g…

The klaxon blares. The audience boos once more.

Sian: Ooooo, you really do enjoy frightening your patients, Meera! But will they take this chance to frighten you back? [walks to the front of the stage] Folks, talk about a nailbiter! This really is anyone’s comeuppance, and every vote is going to count. If you haven’t voted yet, don’t miss the chance to have your say. And if you have voted, why not vote again to ensure your choice gets it! See you all later.