Just to rub salt in the “Selena Gomez has never been slimed” wound, here’s fellow Disney pop princess Demi Lovato getting messy in black goo in “Heart Attack”.
First though, we’ve got some behind the scenes stuff for it. In it, we see just what the black stuff’s about, among other stuff.
Great mess, not so keen on the music.
The 
pie action from this week and last. Notice how the leggy woman in white returns to being perfectly pristine just a couple of minutes after being pied (then again, they’re not the world’s best pies, so it isn’t that surprising).
Spanish actress
Lluvia Rojo Moro combines slapstick with sensuality in this scene from an unidentified programme.
I
saw the news items for this when it happened back in January, but was unable to find the video. Now it’s thanks to Wam Jake for unearthing it. Torta na cara from 11:20.
I could watch this one all day 
Right, now that I’ve finished collecting pictures, let’s get a few things out of the way before the competition hots up.
Right, there are a couple of things I would like to discuss, after reading VXS’ post on his blog, and actually searching for the pictures. There is a “rule” that’s come to be known as “The Notability Rule”. Now while Nominations aren’t (and shouldn’t be) limited by the level of fame, at least to a certain level, the picture hunting process does show why such a rule has a place.
I’d also like to point out that one of the key points is you should nominate people as they are now. For recent stars, this ain’t a problem, but for people who rose to, and fell from, fame over 10 years ago, people forget that they won’t look like they used to. I’ve tried to get photos as recently as possible but haven’t been successful with some (badly in one case). The point is that some people don’t look the same. After all, compare Diana Rigg (60s Bond Girl) in Doctor Who this weekend.
I would like people to do something just to showcase this, and show what I see when I search for these people. Take some of the people you’ve nominated, and the people who have made the Quarter Finals (2011, 2012). Using Google Image search, Use the parameters I described above (large, 2013). That should give you an idea of what I have to work with when choosing pictures.
By no means am I saying don’t nominate various people, nominate whoever you like. VXS is right where he says that if someone wanted someone, they would have nominated them. I’m simply saying why such comments of averageness are made.
Oh to answer another point from VXS’ post, no round is seeded. Anyone could meet anyone (I’ve seen favourites thrown together in round one).
Still, The competition proper starts next week. Excited?
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Disclaimer: This story is purely a work of fiction for personal enjoyment. The story does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence.
In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.
It was raining. The sun was only just going down, but with the thick layer clouds looming overhead all day, it was hard to tell it had been up in the first place. On any normal night, bad weather would mean thin crowds. But tonight was a fight night. Humming like a drunken bumblebee, the big red neon sign that read “Stir-Up” flickered on. From underneath the awning out front, Kara could see the glowing script reflected off a puddle in the parking lot. She blew a sigh out her nose and went back inside.
Technically, the name of the establishment was The Stir-Up Café. Of course, everybody knew it was a bar. The café part just meant they occasionally served burgers alongside the beers. The place was almost empty. A couple die-hard regulars were still hanging around from lunch. They were seated silently at the bar, staring dully at some sports event on the TV, deep in an alcoholic fugue.
In the middle of the wood-paneled room, where the small tables and chairs were usually found, the ring was set up. It wasn’t a real ring, didn’t even look much like one. Hector, the owner of the Stir-Up, always said you just had to use your imagination. The “ring” was essentially a giant square wooden sandbox, with padded sides about two feet high. Inside the frame were several spongy safety mats, which Hector had picked up cheap from a defunct gym. A big blue tarp was laid across the whole assembly. At the moment, Hector and Willy were emptying bags of extra-fine soil onto the tarp.
Hector looked up when Kara walked in. He was wearing his big fight night smile and his ten gallon cowboy hat. Ostensibly, the Stir-Up had a South West roadhouse theme, but beyond a pair of plastic steer horns over the bar, a half-dead cactus in the corner, and some paintings of horses in the bathrooms, there was no evidence of cowboy credibility. That didn’t stop Hector from hauling out his gaudy hat on special occasions. He tossed aside an empty bag of dirt and thrust his hands at Kara.
“Ah! There’s our favorite ring girl now! Kara, sweetheart, you’re not wearing your uniform… Better get ready, it’s almost time.”
Kara scowled. “I’m a bartender. I make drinks and pretend to laugh at dumb jokes. Explain to me again why I have to do this?”
“Not tonight you’re not!” Hector hopped into one of the chairs placed next to the ring; he was surprisingly spry for a man of his girth. He scratched his chin.
“Why do this? Hmm. You’re doing this because I’m paying you double. And for your cut of the tips. And because Willy would look like hell in that uniform.”
Willy was dragging in the hose from out back. When he heard this, he glanced at Kara and smirked.
“Yeah Kar, do you really want to see my wiry ass in shorts? Does anybody? Christ, it’d probably be some kind of health code violation.”
Kara grinned. Unfortunately they both made valid points. She grabbed the shopping bag containing the ring girl uniform from behind the bar and locked herself in the ladies room to change.
Her uniform wasn’t much. Just a black t-shirt with “Stir-Up” printed across the front in gold, and a pair of gold shorts. She had to stand close to the sink, in order to look herself over in the mirror. The shirt was too tight, but she had to admit, it made the most of her modest bosom. She didn’t think the shorts were doing her ass any favors, but they didn’t really have to. Everybody in the bar tonight was going to be too drunk to care, and she was far from the main attraction anyhow. She wasn’t wearing much make-up, and her long straw-blonde was just tied back. Even if she was just background scenery, Kara felt silly in the costume. But it was a fight night, and if for no other reason than the obscene amount of tips headed their way, a little embarrassment was tolerable.
When she finished getting dressed, Kara went back to the bar and made herself a quick rum and coke. Hector was spraying the mound of dirt with the hose, while Willy used an old canoe paddle to mix the mess. The pair of regulars holding down the bar weren’t watching the TV anymore. They were blithely ogling the two young women who had just entered. One of the women, the blonde, winked at them coquettishly. Kara waved to the girls and they walked over.
Ally, the blonde, was an occasional waitress at the bar. Hector called her “window dressing.” Comely and personable, she’d show up wearing knee high boots and a half-buttoned shirt, and then take half an hour to fill one order. The customers loved her.
Tonight Ally was dressed in denim cut-offs and a red flannel. Her chest was threatening to escape. Her shoulder length bleach-blonde hair was brushed out. She greeted Kara with a perfunctory hug; brief and from the elbows.
“Hey girl. Are you excited? Are you in a match tonight?”
Kara snorted. “Hell no. I’ll leave that to you, and your friend.”
Ally threw an arm around the other girl. Her friend was tall and thin and pale, with dark brown hair down her back. She was dressed the same as Ally, except her flannel was blue.
“This is Suzanne. She goes to school with me. She’s heard about fight night, but never been. Hector took one look at her and hired her for the first match tonight.” Ally laughed and Suzanne smiled coyly.
I bet he did, Kara thought. The dark haired girl was certainly very pretty, and Hector always had an eye out for new competitors with potential.
“If you two are both up first, who’s in the second match?”
Ally shrugged. “I don’t know. Hector never tells me anything.”
By now, Willy had blended the pale brown contents of the ring into a smooth, thick consistency. Eager patrons were beginning to trickle in; early birds, looking to snag good seats and get drinks ordered before the rush. Because Willy was still preening the mud, Hector was all alone behind the bar and struggling to keep up. He gave Kara a plaintive look.
She smiled, sipping her rum and coke. “Sorry boss, but I’m not a bartender tonight, remember?”
Hector grinned and wagged a finger at her. “Fair enough, fair enough. Hey, don’t forget your cards!”
He passed the big laminated signs to her over the bar. The cards were sort of a joke. The bouts didn’t really have defined rounds; Hector broke them into three parts arbitrarily. The cards were double sided and the reverse side of the “Round 3” card just read “BEER” in bold letters. But they gave Kara something to hold up, and Hector claimed they added a note of legitimacy to the event.
The crowd was beginning to swell. Even with the rain, it was going to be a packed house. Kara glanced at the clock above the entrance. It was almost time to get started. She downed the last of her drink and went to get into position.
Hector rang his fight bell to silence the raucous audience. His fight bell was a cast iron frying pan and a ball-peen hammer. Kara had to admit, he did have a knack for showmanship.
As he introduced them, Ally and Suzanne stood barefoot at their respective corners, pretending to stretch and reveling in the crowd’s cheers. Hector told them to take their places, and they entered the ring, taking off their shirts as they went. Both women had on lacy black brassieres. The silky mud was more than half-a-foot deep.
They squared off and started circling, slowly in the mire. Suzanne had her hands up like a boxer and Ally was giggling. Kara strutted around the ring, holding up the “Round 1” card and forcing her best ditzy smile. Hector rang the bell again, the crowd roared, and the match began.
To be honest, Kara thought, it wasn’t much to see. There was an unspoken agreement between the two girls. Neither was particularly aggressive, and both carefully managed where the mud touched them. For the first few minutes, they met in the middle of the ring, half-heartedly pushing and pulling. Ally eventually slipped, falling backwards to land sitting in the mud. Suzanne patiently waited for her to get up. She was still giggling and Hector decided to end the round. The second round was more of the same. Both girls spent most of the time rubbing handfuls of mud on their arms and legs and chests. The audience was eating it up though. They started the third round on their knees, which didn’t make much of a difference. The match ended when Ally managed to pin Suzanne, just barely on her back, for ten seconds, while courteously keeping her opponent’s hair out of the mud.
It was a farce, but the boisterous crowd didn’t care. Just the pretense was enough of a show for them. Hector held up Ally’s hand. The competitors hugged and started to step out of the ring. It was time for the intermission and Kara hoped she’d have time for another rum and coke.
“Hold up! I’ve got winner.”
The entire bar turned in unison. The voice came from a new arrival by the door. Whoever it was wore a big, yellow, hooded raincoat still dripping from the storm. Hector seemed to know what was going on. There was a twinkle in his eye and he was suddenly smiling wider than ever.
“Is that who I think it is? I was worried you weren’t going to make it.”
The mystery guest threw off her raincoat. Wolf-whistles rippled through the crowd like wildfire in a drought.
The woman beneath the raincoat was petite, probably not more than five-two. She had short, choppy black hair, dark eyes, and an extremely attractive face. She was also in incredible shape. Her entire body was lithe muscle; subtle and toned in all the best ways. This was obvious to everyone in the bar, because underneath the raincoat, she was in a bikini.
She wasn’t even wearing shoes, just a skimpy red bathing suit. She left the raincoat on the floor and prowled over to the ring. Kara noted that this mysterious woman also had a knack for performance.
Hector kissed her hand, “Harmony, you’re just in time! Would you like a drink before your match?”
Kara knew that name. Then it all clicked. Harmony. Harmony the Hellhound. Something of a local celebrity. She was a dancer at a ridiculously upscale gentleman’s club down the road, a place called Provoke. She had made the news a while back when a patron of the club got too drunk and started harassing dancers in the parking lot. The guy had a hundred and fifty pounds on her, and Harmony the Hellhound had dropped him in under a minute. Hector got her for fight night? Well, Kara thought, things were about to get interesting.
“Hector. I know you’ve got a schedule and all, but I want to go a couple rounds with your champ here. What do you say? Give me a chance to warm up?” She was speaking as much to the crowd as to Hector.
The crowd clapped and cheered, encouraging the unscheduled bonus match. Hector looked at Ally and raised an eyebrow, like a cat eyeing an oblivious canary.
“What do you think Ally? Up for another match? Want a shot at defending your title?”
Ally looked conflicted. While she was average height at best, she still had a few solid inches on Harmony. But there was something in the smaller woman’s eyes, something hungry… But the crowd was cheering so loudly for her…
Hector shrugged and grabbed the tip jar off the bar, giving it a good shake. Money was thrust into the jar by the fistful. This was enough to tip the scales for Ally. She did a small curtsy and stayed in the ring.
Hector was overjoyed. Banging on his bell he launched into introductions once again.
Harmony sprang onto the edge of the ring and sashayed along it nimbly like a balance beam. Kara noticed the tattoo on her back, right between her shoulder blades. It was a sleek black Doberman with a devil’s horns and tail. Harmony landed gracefully in the mud and dropped into a low wrestler’s stance.
The anticipation in the room was immense and it got the better of Hector. He rang the bell, starting the match before Kara could perform her ring girl duties. She didn’t care; she was as excited to see what would happen as anyone else.
Ally looked unsure of what to do. She tried to mimic Harmony’s stance, spreading her feet and lowering her center of gravity. The smaller woman smiled at her invitingly, beckoning her with her fingertips. The blonde waitress took a few short steps toward Harmony. The Hellhound wasted no time.
She stepped behind Ally with her right leg and caught hold of Ally’s right arm with both hands. With a quick flick of her hips, Harmony tossed Ally to the floor. Of course, there was a very thick layer of mud between her and the floor.
Ally landed on her back with a gasp and a splat. She lay there for a moment, unable to process what had just happened. The audience was silent. However, before Ally stirred, they exploded in a chorus of whistles and cheers.
Harmony waited for Ally to get up, leaning against the edge of the ring and drumming her fingers with theatrical impatience. Some bizarre will, perhaps a sense of duty or maybe plain old pride, compelled Ally to get up again. She pushed herself to her feet, her entire back half covered in mud.
Despite her flightiness, by now Ally was able to recognize that this opponent would be more competitive than her friend Suzanne. Apparently she decided to try and exploit her size advantage right off the bat, because she lunged at Harmony as soon as she found her footing.
Harmony rolled her eyes. In one deft motion, she swept Ally’s feet out from under her, sending her falling forward. Forward, to pitch face-first into the muck.
Ally pushed herself up with her elbows. She spat out a mouthful of mud and slid onto her knees. She wiped at her muddy face with her muddy hands, managing to just smear the slimy dirt around. Ally lifter her filthy face in the direction she guessed Harmony was standing.
“What the hell! This is so not a fair fight! Hector!”
Harmony clasped her hand behind her back and hung her head, wearing an exaggerated pout.
“You’re mad at little me? Oh boo-hoo, whatever will I do?”
Hector tapped his bell rapidly, “Now now, ladies! I’m sure we can figure something out… I’ve got it! Suzanne, how about you get in there, on Abby’s team? Honey, this is your shot at redemption!”
Suzanne smiled, “Ok sure. Why not!” She calmly stepped back into the ring.
“What a trooper! Fear not, Ally! The cavalry is on the way! Hey Willy, chuck Abby a rag, she’s blind as a bat.”
Suzanne was still smiling as she faced down Harmony. Unlike Ally, she had genuinely been holding back before. On top of that, she was a good foot taller than this feisty little woman. Even if Ally wouldn’t be any help, Suzanne liked her odds.
Using her superior reach, she tried to grab one of Harmony’s wrists; to reel the exotic dancer in and take control. Actually, it was surprisingly easy to do. Within a few seconds, she had a grip on the Hellhound’s left hand. However, she wasn’t expecting Harmony to grab her wrist right back. And she was absolutely stunned when her spritely opponent took a flying leap around her left side.
Suzanne’s arm was a pivot, and Harmony swung around, catching Suzanne’s midriff between her legs in a scissor hold. The smaller woman’s momentum caused both of them to spin. Suzanne didn’t have a chance to redistribute her weight. Before she knew what was happening, she’d been turned around completely, forced into a dizzying pirouette on her right heel. Her balance was shot and she toppled over. Harmony released her hold, landing smoothly on her pert ass, and sliding away. Suzanne landed on horizontally on her left side, half buried in beige muck. The splash was tremendous. From her seat beside the ring, Kara had to duck behind a ring card to avoid the spray of mud flecks.
Suzanne managed to roll onto her back, wiping the dirty side of her face with her clean hand. Before she could do anything else, Harmony appeared, standing above her. She winked, and dropped a heaping double-handful of mud onto her face.
Suzanne shrieked and curled up in a ball. Harmony laughed and turned her attention to Ally. The blonde girl, very much regretting her recent decisions, was still sitting in the mud, wiping at her face and hair and hands with a wet rag. She was making reasonable progress in her clean-up, but Harmony the Hellhound pounced mercilessly.
“What! Hey! No!” Ally squeaked hopelessly. She tried fruitlessly to resist as Harmony appeared behind her, trapping both her hands above her head. The combative little woman placed her left foot on the top of Ally’s damp blonde head. Using minimal pressure she slid Ally along the mat and submerged her head beneath the mud. Ally popped back up immediately. She was entirely coated in thick brown gunk, her hair plastered down and her face covered again.
Suzanne had wasted no time getting up after her latest embarrassment. She was slowly creeping up behind Harmony, who was busy basking in the delirious cheers. Kara was sure Harmony was about to receive her comeuppance, as the much taller girl was just about to grab her from behind in a muddy bear-hug.
However, Harmony ducked at the last possible instant. She snuck under Suzanne’s arms and was behind her in an instant. She shoved the pale shapely girl and let her own momentum send her sprawling in the mud. Utterly spent, this time Suzanne just lay on her back, completely slathered in mud. Harmony tip-toed over and added the coup-de-grace. Taking half of Suzanne’s long dark hair in each hand, she tied the mud soaked locks in a loose overhand knot around Suzanne’s face. The defeated woman looked like some kind of bizarre, sloppy Christmas present.
Harmony pranced over and hopped back onto the edge of the ring, drinking in the howling adulation from the crowd. Despite the fact that her bare feet were slick with mud, she still made the balancing act look easy. The petite pugilist used her thumb to daub a streak of war paint down each cheek. It was the only mud on her face; in fact, excluding her arms, much of her upper body remained perfectly clean.
Hector had been ringing the bell for nearly a minute before anyone cared to notice. Eventually the audience quieted down, eager to see what would happen next.
“Wow! How’s that for a bonus match? That’s one for the history book! Harmony, the tiny terror, has just demolished two opponents at the same time. And you saw it here!”
Hector paused for another eruption of applause. “Folks, now we’re going to go ahead and take that intermission we talked about a little while back. But don’t fret! Harmony’s not going anywhere, and neither should you!”
Kara watched as Hector took Harmony by the hand and pointed her to the ladies room, “You can go get yourself cleaned up for your next match. We’ll try and start in about half an hour, give everyone time to down a few. Speaking of, you want anything?”
“Vodka neat would be lovely. And I’m ready when you are. Try to find me some stiffer competition this time, ok?”
“Ha! I can handle the vodka, but I can’t make any promises about that other thing…”
Slipping and sliding, Abby and Suzanne managed to climb out of the ring together. Although he couldn’t manage sympathy, Hector did manage to turn down the wattage of his smile a bit while he spoke to his saturated combatants.
“Hey, my darlings, you guys did great. Just great. If you want, you can go hose off out back. Or you can just sit tight until Harmony’s out of the bathroom. Your call. We’ll settle up after the next match. Again ladies, spectacular job.”
His words seemed cold comfort to the two women drenched in mud as they shuffled slowly toward the back door.
Willy was getting swamped at the bar, so despite her fight night reassignment, Kara went to help him keep up. A few minutes later, while she was in the middle of collecting empties, Kara noticed Hector embroiled in a disagreement.
She couldn’t hear them over the commotion, but their body language was pretty easy to interpret. Hector had his shoulders dropped low and his hands folded under his chin. It looked like he was working hard to placate a zaftig girl with pink-dyed hair and a number of piercings. Kara didn’t recognize the girl, who was holding both her hands up in flat denial. Apparently he couldn’t change her mind, because she shook her head, turned, and left the bar.
Hector was completely deflated. His whole body sagged and he looked more defeated than Abby had a little while ago. Then he saw Kara. They made eye contact and his glowing fight night smile flashed back into place. Suddenly he was practically skipping over to her. He took her armload of empties and put them back on the table.
“Kara! Dearest Kara. I need you to do me a favor…”
“I don’t think so Hector. Willy’s sinking fast over there, he needs my help,” she reached for the empties but he pushed her hand away.
“Forget Willy, forget the bar. Actually, wait…” He turned and shouted, “Willy! Rum and coke, stat! And make it kick!” He turned back to Kara, who was fully perplexed. “Rum and coke is your drink, right? Anyway, the favor I need from you is of the utmost importance. You saw that girl leave? Well she was the other gladiator in our next game…
“She got here in time to watch Harmony wipe the floor with Ally and Whatsername. She has decided that she in fact wants no part her match against that little demon. Just up and walked out. Really it’s my fault; I should have kept an eye out for her. But let’s not play the blame game! The important facts are as follows: One; we are short a lovely grappler for this evening’s festivities. Two; you will be taking her place.”
Kara was certain she’d misheard him, “I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Willy sent someone over with a very strong rum and coke. Hector placed it in her hands, encouraging her to sip.
“You heard me sweetheart, drink up. I need you to take on Harmony in the next match.”
Kara took a large swallow, feeling it sizzle on the way down. She rounded on Hector furiously.
“Are you out of your mind? I don’t know what you’re drinking, but you’ve had too many. There is absolutely zero chance that I will set foot in that ring, much less while that devil pixie is in the building!”
“But Kara, it’s fight night!”
“I don’t give a damn!” She took another gulp of the cocktail, “I mean these freaking shorts are one thing, but if for a single second you think I’m about to….”
Hector clapped his hands over his head, beaming like a fox in the henhouse.
“But Kara, that’s just it! That right there! You’ve got the fire! You’re a volcano, just waiting for the right moment to blow! Believe you me, we get you pointed in the right direction and Harmony the Hellhound won’t know what hit her! Drink up!”
Kara finished her drink. She’d seen Hector cajole his way out of a dozen sticky situations. She wasn’t about to fall for it. He could see her resolve starting to harden.
“Hear me out! I’ll talk to Harmony; tell her to go easy on you. Tell her that the crowd wants a little suspense this time. You two can dance around for a few minutes, then when you see an opening, BAM! You come at her like a hurricane! I’m telling you, everybody loves an underdog! Harmony’s a performer, a professional. She’ll understand. Once the crowd’s on your side she’ll just take a dive. The show must go on!”
Kara could feel herself flushing, her cheeks going beet red. She couldn’t decide if it was because of the angry indignation, or the drinks… or the thought of winning over the cheering crowd. She had been dead certain a minute ago, but now… Maybe it could work. Harmony was a pro; she knew how to take direction. But still. She glanced at the ring, chock full of slimy mud, and her stomach turned a somersault.
“And then there’s the money!” Hector wouldn’t take no for an answer. “On top of what you’re making already, you’ll get the full pay for the match. Plus tips! Honey, you just won the lottery!”
Kara was beginning to feel a little buzzed, but she still had full command of her faculties. The offer was tempting, but it just wasn’t worth the risk. Hector wasn’t going to hear it though, so Kara decided to beat him at his own game. She would just make him an offer he’d have to refuse.
“I want a raise. 10%, effective immediately. That’s my final offer.”
“Deal! Spectacular, you’ve saved the day!” Placing an arm around her shoulders, Hector guided a stunned Kara over to the ring.
“Wa… Wait… But! Wait.” Kara stammered.
It was too late. Harmony was waiting, perched on the edge of the ring. Hector jumped on the window of opportunity, before Kara could string together a coherent sentence. Pounding on the bell, he went about hyping the upcoming match. He spun it as an underdog story; the local girl, a barkeep with ice in her veins and steel in her eyes, ready to take on the infamous Hellhound.
Kara stretched a little and tried to avoid making eye contact with Harmony. The beautiful woman was watching her closely. When Hector finished his spiel, she dropped into the ring. Kara gulped and stepped into the mud. It was cool and smooth and squished between her toes. She could feel herself blushing again, her nerves were on overdrive.
She heard the bell. Harmony was in a half-crouch, slowly shifting her weight back and forth between her legs. Kara tried to remember some of Harmony’s tactics from the other match. Going on the offensive was off the table. She decided to just hold her ground; keep her guard up and hopefully fend off any attacks.
Harmony closed the distance in a flash. Kara tried to take a step back, but suddenly the other woman had a two-handed grip on her right ankle. Kara had no idea how it had happened, but she was now standing on one leg, less than a foot away from the ferocious grappler. Harmony looked up at her and grinned; she could feel the grip on her ankle tighten. Shit, Kara thought, here it comes…
In a sudden burst of inspiration, Kara planted both hands on Harmony’s shoulders. She didn’t stand a chance against whatever the Hellhound was planning, but she could at least screw it up. Kara kicked out with her left foot, letting gravity drop her on her ass. She tried to drag Harmony down with her, but the smaller woman was too quick. Harmony released her ankle and leapt back.
Kara felt mud soaking into her shorts. Quick as she could, she got her legs underneath her, not wanting to give Harmony any opening. That had been a close one. As she struggled to get to her feet without slipping, Kara’s heart was in her throat. The mud was so thick and clammy; just the thought of landing in it again made her skin crawl.
Harmony was standing off to the side, pretending to check her muddy nails. In the back of her mind, Kara could hear the crowd cheering, but it was just a dull white noise. Her total attention was devoted to predicting, and evading, whatever Harmony was going to try next.
In the blink of an eye, Harmony was shooting in at her legs. She launched herself across the ring, gliding through the mud on her knees. Kara ran away, picking her feet up high to avoid getting bogged down. Harmony chased her around the ring, breaking left and right randomly, trying hard to catch Kara off guard.
But each time she managed to elude her opponent. With her longer legs, Kara was able to keep out of Harmony’s reach, but she couldn’t keep it up. The petite dancer had the physique of a Roman statue. Kara knew her endurance would last for ages, and she could already feel herself starting to slow. Well, Kara thought manically, I guess it’s now or never.
Harmony lunged at her again. She dodged but nearly fell over in the process. While Harmony was lining up another shot, Kara went to the edge of the ring nearest the bar.
“Willy!” she screamed, “I need a beer! Right now!”
The crowd was murmuring in the background. Kara watched Harmony over her shoulder. She flashed the other woman a wry smile. Harmony paused, rocking back on her heels, appraising this new development.
Grinning like an idiot, Willy brought over a plastic pint glass filled to the brim with whatever was on tap. Kara grabbed the glass and took a long sip. It was ice cold and full-headed.
Harmony slapped her knee and let out a sharp peal of laughter. She turned to the audience and shrugged.
“Now nobody can say I’m cruel! Who am I to interrupt a girl’s last drink? When that beer’s finished, so is she!”
The Hellhound turned back to face her prey, “Ok sweetie, I’m ready to go whenever you… Aaugh!”
Kara had waited until she was facing Harmony head on, and then flung the beer at her. Three-fourths of a pint of dark ale hit her square in the face.
Harmony squeezed her eyes shut as her fists clenched. Her entire body was bathed in the beer and she cringed from the coldness. Sopping, beer-dripping hair flopped in her face. Fingers of white foam trailed down the side of her head and settled in her exposed cleavage. Blowing a long breath through pursed lips, she sent a hoppy mist into the air. She was blinking away the booze when Kara unleashed the next, improvised, stage of her master plan.
Tossing the empty pint aside, Kara took one long step in and gave Harmony the best shove she could muster. It was enough to send the beer doused dancer flying. She landed on her back and slid across the floor of the ring. When she stopped, Harmony lay in the mud; a considerable amount of the muck had mounded at the top of her head and around her shoulders.
Kara was quite pleased with herself. She went so far as to offer a few small bows to the jubilant crowd. Somehow, she had managed to win this thing, and stay fairly clean along the way. In retrospect, she realized right then she really should have been officially pinning Harmony. Instead, the damp, muddy woman in the bikini sprang to her feet.
She was smiling now, fiercer and more genuinely than she had yet that night. Methodically, she popped all the joints in her neck, hands, and shoulders. Once she was loose, Harmony scooped up a mass of mud and slicked it over her own head, covering what was left of her clean hair and face. Wiping down each arm, then her torso, she was almost unrecognizable beneath the grime. However, her dark eyes still blazed under the mask of mud. Once she was entirely coated, she smiled at Kara, her teeth bright in the ooze.
“Right. Now we go for real.”
Kara stood there staring, ankle deep in the mud, facing some sort of primordial earth demon. Her brow wrinkled. She wasn’t sure exactly what she had expected to happen, but this definitely wasn’t it. Crap, she thought. Crap. Crap. Crap. She looked to Hector, with a pained expression. He pretended to be diligently polishing his bell.
“Look,” she said to Harmony, “I’m sure we can… Oh shit!”
The Hellhound was headed straight at her. Kara tried to grab Harmony, but the muddy covering made her impossible to hold on to. Harmony zipped behind her. Kara tried to spin around, but her slippery opponent was too fast. She must have leapt off the edge of the ring, because the next thing Kara knew, Harmony landed on her back.
She scurried up and sat herself on Kara’s shoulders. Kara could feel the mud dribbling off Harmony run down her back. Harmony threw all of her weight forward, causing the flabbergasted Kara to bend at the waste. The room and Harmony were spinning, and Kara couldn’t keep track of everything; she didn’t resist and just waited to land in the mud.
But she didn’t. She was stumbling forward, head over heels, when she felt two small, powerful arms cinch around her waist. She heard a grunt of exertion, and then suddenly she was upside down. Suspended in the air by Harmony, Kara could see two dirty legs sticking out of the mud above her head.
For a moment, Kara wondered how long Harmony could maintain this feat of strength. Then she realized that wasn’t really the plan… Harmony squatted, and Kara’s entire head was dunked in the mud with a splut.
It was dark, below the shiny brown surface. She found the tarp at the bottom with her hands, but couldn’t push herself above the muck. Kara held her breath, feeling the gloopy gunk enter her nostrils and slip behind her ears. Within seconds, Harmony straightened and Kara rose from the swampy ooze with a sputter. The mud was tasteless, but slightly gritty on her tongue.
Without warning, Harmony dunked her again. This time, the grip around her waist relaxed and the rest of her body was lightly dropped in the mud. Kara rolled over and sat up. Her hair had come loose; it hung heavily in thick clumps.
Harmony was strutting around with her hands over her head. Most of the audience was on their feet, cheering and clapping. Kara assumed Hector had officially declared a winner. Someone handed Harmony a beer and a towel. She wiped her mouth and took a long draught. Ambling casually over to Kara, she smiled down at her thoroughly beaten opponent.
Kara had a pretty good idea of what was coming next. Harmony emptied the balance of the beer over her head, using a good portion of it to rinse off her face. It was much colder than the mud.
She swiped a few wet strands of hair out of her eyes, “Yeah, I guess I had that coming.”
Harmony nodded sweetly, “You sure did.” As she spoke, she smeared a handful of mud over Kara’s briefly clean face.
Twenty minutes later, Kara was standing out in the parking lot. It was still raining heavily. In the glow of the street lamps she watched rivulets of muddy water run from her feet to the storm drain. It was late, and once the party ended, the bar had cleared out pretty quick. Hector and Willy were inside cleaning up. She heard the door open and turned around. It was Harmony the Hellhound.
She had cleaned off her face pretty well, but there was still mud in her ears and streaking her hair. The rest of her body was still covered. She stepped out in to the rain.
“Good idea. Close enough to a shower.”
Kara shrugged, “Beats using the hose.”
She was carrying two glasses full of some brown liquor. She held one out to Kara, then hesitated.
“Alright, I won’t throw mine if you don’t throw yours?”
Kara cracked a smile and accepted the glass. It was whiskey and it warmed her insides.
“You know,” Harmony said, “you were pretty good in there. I mean, not really, but you have good instincts. There’s a bit of thunder in you.”
Kara looked at the small woman, muddy droplets streaming down her body. Her smile was kind and honest.
“You know, with a little practice, you could be pretty great at this sort of thing. I’m serious. Let me show you a few tricks. That way, you’ll be able to give me a run for my money next time.”
“Next time?” Kara said, eyebrows raised.
“Of course. There will be a next time, won’t there?”
She considered it, feeling the rain drumming all over, and the burn of the whiskey trailing down her throat, and the clumps of mud still lodged between her toes.
“You know, I think there will.”
As with the Jyllands-Posten cartoons, defending free expression and free choice sometimes entails giving unmerited attention to severely mediocre art. So for the same reason, I am going to give unmerited attention to some severely mediocre WAM.
In normal circumstances, these photos would barely scrape into a Civilian Sunday. Had the Wyvern Society better taste, they would use custard or chocolate pudding as their wrestling medium, or at the very least use a decent amount and consistency of jello. However, because this event was bullied into cancellation, denying people the choice to freely participate, spectate or stay away as they pleased, it’s going to get the full publicity of its own post.
How fortunate these women are to possess powerful brains and beautiful bodies! No wonder they attract the ire of those who have neither. No doubt these ladies will go on to become highly successful managing directors, politicians, journalists, scientists, etc… if indeed they aren’t already (these photos are from 2008). It’s great that they managed to have some silly fun while they were young.
This story is purely a work of fiction. It does NOT describe real events and the characters are fictional. Any resemblance to real events or persons is coincidence. In keeping with its fictional nature, the events and activities described in the story may not be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.
Who advanced after each round was chosen by a random number generator, so none of it was predetermined from round to round. Any of the girls could have won. Enjoy!
THREE COURSE MEAL: COOKOUT EDITION
“Hello, and welcome to…THREE! COURSE! MEAL!”
Nelson Meddo, the host of Three Course Meal, walked onto the stage to the sound of thunderous applause, as always. He smiled broadly.
“Yes, everyone, it’s Three Course Meal—where four contestants compete to make it to the end of a three course dinner—but be warned, as they’ll be eliminated one by one. And today, we have a theme to our meal—the players will be competing in a special cookout edition of Three Course Meal, so all of the courses will be what you might expect at a good old-fashioned family cookout!” The audience expressed their approval, and Nelson decided to introduce the day’s contestants.
“Our first contestant for today’s cookout is…Joyce!”
Joyce walked out onto the stage and waved meekly. Smart but shy, Joyce had long light brown hair and well-tanned skin. Joyce was fit, with large breasts, and especially nice legs from years of running. She was wearing denim shorts—a standard for the show—and a white and red plaid button-down shirt.
“The lovely Joyce, everyone—now for our next contestant…Melody!”
Melody walked out to huge applause. She was hot and she knew it—possessing what anyone could recognize as a stunning face and body. She was used to being the center of attention and, although, not a mean person, there was a sense of self-entitlement and haughtiness to her. Petite and blonde, Melody gave a little cheer to the crowd as she walked out and shook her cute butt to wild screams from the crowd. Her shirt was white and yellow.
“And let’s keep that applause going for…Patricia!” yelled Nelson grandly.
Patricia walked out—a natural redhead with shoulder-length hair and supermodel features. She was pale, tall and curvy and looked completely suited to her white and light blue plaid shirt, which she had undone a bit to show off her rather generous cleavage. Seeing this, Melody decided to unbutton her own shirt a little more—although she had less cleavage to show than either Patricia or Joyce.
“And, our final contestant for the day, Emma!”
Emma walked out in a green and white plaid shirt. She was not as classically pretty as her three competitors, but there was a compelling beauty to her all the same—very down-to-earth. She was pale with long black hair, freckles, and good-humored green eyes. “Good luck,” she said to the other competitors as she joined them. Joyce and Patricia thanked her.
APPETIZER
“And now that we have met our contestants, let’s start the game!” beamed Nelson grandly. “First, the appetizer. Now, at every cookout I’ve ever been to, and I think you’ll agree, someone always brings a…” the big board flashed in big letters the name of the appetizer of the day: SALAD!
The girls were brought over to an obstacle course, consisting of balance beams, a rope wall, and hanging rings. It was a fairly standard obstacle course, but there was one unique factor that didn’t escape any of the girls’ attention—below the whole course, there was a deep pool of salad dressing—four different types. Nelson explained the game.
“Now this game is simple—the first three to the end of this obstacle course will advance to the entrée course. But be careful not to go too fast—if you fall, you will have to go back to the beginning. And more importantly, you’ll have fallen into…well, you know.” The audience laughed. “Okay, let’s start this game!”
The girls took their places. Joyce was at the obstacle course filled with ranch dressing, Melody was over French dressing, Patricia had the one with honey mustard, and Emma was running the obstacle course over the thousand island dressing. Nelson counted down and the game began. The players quickly scampered over the balance beam. Joyce was across first, followed by Melody, then Emma, and then Patricia, but it was neck and neck. At this point, no one had fallen off (although Emma almost had at one point, but then caught herself. They approached a rope wall and climbed up the rope. Joyce was almost at the top, when all of a sudden, she lost her grip and fell down, landing in the ranch dressing with a splash. The other contestants couldn’t help but stop and look back. In doing so, Patricia lost her grip and also fell. Melody and Emma were stunned—the pools were much deeper than they had initially thought, and both Joyce and Patricia were completely submerged. When Joyce exited the pool, she was unrecognizable, completely covered in the thick white ranch dressing. Patricia too was covered from head to toe in the sticky yellow muck. The two of them were quite the sight to see—Melody laughed at them and continued on her way, with Emma close behind her. Meanwhile, Joyce and Patricia went back to the starting line. Patricia started in right away, while Joyce took the time to wipe some of the dressing off of her hands and body. This proved to be smart, as Patricia slipped almost immediately on the balance beam, once again being submerged in the honey mustard dressing.
Melody had a bit of a lead on the hanging rings, and victory was in sight, but on one of the last rings, she lost her grip and fell into the dressing below. Desperate not to get dressing in her hair, she grabbed onto the side of the pool as she went in. In doing so, she managed to spare her top half—the dressing only went to slightly above her shorts. The sticky red dressing coated her legs as she jumped out of the pool. Meanwhile, Emma made it across the course without a hitch, advancing to the next round and managing to stay clean.
“Well done, Emma, you can go backstage and…”
“Wait a minute, Nelson” the pretty girl smiled sheepishly. “I kind of want to see what it feels like.” The audience went wild and Nelson gestured to the pool—he wasn’t going to stop her. Emma jumped in to wild cheers from the audience—when she emerged she was coated in the Thousand Island dressing.
“And how does it feel, Emma?” Nelson asked?
“It’s weird. I don’t know if I like it, but it feels unlike anything else I’ve ever tried,” she said, and then was escorted offstage to get cleaned up for the entrée round.
Watching this, Melody couldn’t believe it—why would someone have jumped into the salad dressing if they didn’t have to? Meanwhile, she couldn’t believe how behind she was. Just as she was starting on the balance beam, she heard the dinging sound as Joyce crossed the hanging rings, securing her place in the entrée round. Melody thought it was hopeless, until she heard a gasp from the audience as Patricia fell off the hanging rings. Realizing this was her chance, Melody ran across the balance beam and scurried up the rope wall. Patricia was far behind—all Melody had to do was make it across the rings to win. She took a deep breath and began—and managed to make it across just as Patricia was starting on the rings. Melody left to go get cleaned up and Nelson went to speak to Patricia.
“I’m so sorry, Patricia—that was a tough course.”
“Yeah—after I fell in the first time, it was just hard to get a good grip on anything.”
“Well, we’re sorry to see you go, but did you have a good time playing?”
“Sure, but I don’t know how I’ll get this stuff out!” The audience laughed as Patricia ran her hands through her beautiful red hair, now covered in light brown dressing. As she exited the stage, it was still dripping down from her ample bosom.
ENTRÉE
Now, onto the next course—the entrée. And since it’s a cookout, you won’t be surprised to learn that the entrée of the day is…HOT DOGS!
The three remaining girls, now in new shirts and shorts identical to the ones from the first round, were brought to three stationary exercise bikes. They were told that they would have to bike for a certain distance—the first two to do so would advance to the next round. The girls were just about to ask what the catch was, when they saw that there were nozzles all around the bikes. They didn’t have to ask what those were for. The girls all hopped onto their bikes and began to pedal. As they pedaled, the bike triggered the nozzles, which began to twirl around the girls, spraying ketchup, mustard and mayo all over the girls. Emma was taken aback and stopped pedaling for just a second, before continuing. Melody, similarly, was taken aback, and squealed as some ketchup hit her square in the face. She put her head down and felt as the condiments hit her square in the head and all over her back and legs, but she was hunched over enough that most of her stayed clean. Joyce, however, kept going—she was getting condiments right in the face, but she just kept going, knowing that she could easily advance to the dessert round. After a few minutes of pedaling, there was a ringing noise and a panel opened up above Joyce and a large amount of relish poured down on her, causing her to scream in surprise.
“Does this mean I’m done?” she asked.
“No, keep pedaling, Joyce—that means you’re at the halfway point. Don’t worry, there’s an even better surprise when you reach the end.” Said Nelson with glee.
Joyce kept pedaling, A little bit later, relish fell over Emma too. Melody couldn’t believe it—she was losing! She had not come this far to not win, so she pedaled faster. In not too long, relish fell on her seat too, but she ducked out of the way to avoid it. She knew she couldn’t overtake Joyce, but she thought she could finish before Emma.
Not too far after, the three contestants heard another ringing sound and Nelson announced that Joyce could stop pedaling- she had advanced the final round. Just as she was celebrating, and wiping the (by now very thick) layers of ketchup and mustard and mayo from her face, the floor opened up in front of her and the bike tipped forward, dropping her into a pool filled with BBQ sauce.
“How do you feel about our little surprise?” Nelson asked.
“Well, I was already pretty messy, so what’s a little barbecue sauce?” she asked. The shy girl was growing more confident, and was smiling as she left the stage to the cheers of the crowd.
Melody and Emma were pedaling faster than ever—they knew that Emma had made it to the halfway point first, but Melody had found a second wind and was going faster and faster and faster and…
“Melody, you can stop pedaling!” With Nelson’s words, Melody realized that she had won. She saw the floor open up in front of her and jumped off the bike before it could tilt her in. The crowd booed.
“Come on, Melody, don’t you want to take a swim?” Nelson asked.
“Are you kidding?” Melody asked. “My hair is already disgusting, at least I can keep the rest of me clean.” The audience booed, but Melody didn’t care and she defiantly walked off. Nelson walked over to Emma, who was still on the bike, covered in various condiments.
“Emma, I have to say, you have been one of our best contestants, am I right, folks?” The audience cheered—they had been rooting for the girl who had willingly dived into the thousand island dressing. “Well,” Nelson continued, “you don’t make it to the dessert round, but would you like to accept the prize that Melody turned down?” Before giving her time to answer, the floor opened up and the bike tipped forward and Emma screamed as she fell into the open pit of barbecue sauce. She emerged dripping in brown gook, took a bow, and exited the game to a standing ovation.
DESSERT
As she showered off before the dessert course, Melody was furious. She had known that she was likely to get messy going on this show, but it had somehow never really registered with her. She had avoided managing to get too messy up to this point, but even feeling the ketchup and mustard in her hair had been awful. She was incredibly popular—what would her friends say about this? Plus, she had heard that in the dessert round, they usually made the girls go in their underwear. “Screw the money,” she thought—anything not to get messy again.
Joyce and Melody walked out to loud applause from the audience. It was the final round—the dessert course.
“And, as you all know, we have a little tradition for the dessert course. A tradition involving, shall we say, a little less clothing.” The audience laughed at the host’s joke. “So, let’s lose those shirts and shorts, shall we, ladies?”
Melody went first—getting messy was one thing, but she actually enjoyed letting people see her in her underwear, usually because it always got a great response. Sure enough, her pink lace number elicited wolf whistles from the crowd. Joyce stripped too, albeit with less fanfare. But she was surprised to hear cheers from the audience as she tore her shirt off to reveal her stunning body, in a navy bra and underwear which did her a lot of favors. Joyce had never thought of herself as being beautiful, and enjoyed the reaction from the audience.
“Now, the dessert for tonight is a cookout favorite—ice cream sundaes! After all, nothing is more refreshing on a hot summer’s day. And, ladies, you’re going to be our sundaes today! You’re going to be asked questions and each time you get one right, another part of the sundae will be added to you. First to get five questions correct to complete the sundae wins! Are you ready?”
The girls said that they were and were brought over to sit on individual stools. Nelson began. Joyce started first, and she got her question correct. From the wings, Patricia, who was eliminated in the appetizer round, came out carrying some chocolate syrup, which she began to pour over Joyce.
“We thought we’d give Patricia and Emma the chance to get you messy since they couldn’t make it to this round,” smiled Nelson.
Patricia had gone right for Joyce’s head, and the chocolate syrup was now dripping down, covering her face and dripping onto her breasts. Patricia didn’t stop until the whole bottle was emptied over the patient Joyce. Then, she knelt down and playfully licked some chocolate sauce over Joyce’s cheek.
Next, it was Melody’s turn. Nelson asked her an easy question—which band first performed the classic song “Let it Be?”
Melody smiled and answered confidently. “One Direction.” Nelson looked confused.
“No, Melody, that’s wrong. It was the Beatles. Sorry, Emma, you’re going to have to hold off on that chocolate syrup. Okay, Joyce, here’s your next question…”
This continued predictable. Melody continued to get her questions wrong. Meanwhile, Joyce was performing well, and had soon received a coating of strawberry syrup, caramel, and fudge lovingly applied by Patricia. The sticky, messy Joyce was now just one question away from winning, but Melody was completely clean. Joyce was asked one final question, which she answered correctly.
“Congratulations, Joyce, you have won!” yelled the host, as Patricia slammed a whipped cream pie in Joyce’s face, then sprayed a couple cans of whipped cream over her for good measure. Joyce was ecstatic—so what if she was a complete mess? She had won the money and had actually had a lot of fun. She knew her friends and she would laugh about the show later. She hugged Patricia, giving her new friend a nice coating of chocolate, caramel, and whipped cream.
“But, we have the matter of Melody,” said the host, looking at the scantily clad runner-up. “You didn’t do too well in that round, did you, Melody?”
“No, I guess I just didn’t know the answers, Nelson.”
“Well, I don’t really think that’s true, do you, audience?” the host asked. The audience cheered in agreement. “See, we all think you knew the answers and you just wanted to avoid a mess.”
“Well, you can think that if you want to,” said Melody nervously—what was he leading up to?
“And we have certain punishments for those who try to avoid mess on this show. Besides, Emma was really looking forward to getting you messy.”
“There’s no way you’re turning me into a sundae!” threatened Melody.
“Of course not,” Nelson said assuringly. “But, well, there’s another food that’s common at cookouts. And we happened to have some on hand, but just never got to use it. And we think you might enjoy it.”
Before Melody could say anything, she felt something cold running down her back. She shrieked as she saw brown, sticky stuff dripping down from head. She turned around and saw Emma gleefully holding a tin of baked beans. And, at Emma’s feet was a giant tub of the very same beans.
“Oh don’t you dare…” she started to say, but it was too late. Emma had already picked up the tub and was pouring it over a miserable Melody. Her yellow hair had now turned a reddish-brown as the sauce from the beans coated it through and through. Emma was careful to make sure that the beans would get everywhere, and the skimpy lace underwear wasn’t helping either.
“It’s not fair!” shrieked the now very messy runner-up. But no one could hear her protests over the host’s final words.
“Join us next time on…THREE! COURSE! MEAL!”
Joining the Panicats isn’t easy. Newest recruit Carol Dias gets a soap, rinse and exfoliation for her induction into the group. They did this stunt a while back with Sabrina Sato.
We all know what’s going to happen, don’t we? 
Plus, an alert from Himajin that the pie cannon may return next week! Stay tuned.
It’s
back, and so is Jill, who has rereplaced her replacer Vanessa (not sure what the story is there, but I get the feeling they would make a great pairing on You Bet Your Own Back – hint hint).
Disclaimer: 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.
“Hello everyone and welcome to this week’s show, and it’s a special and all will be explained shortly,” says Emma Crosby.
“I am sure that plenty of our viewers are also fans of another show that airs on both sides of the pond and following a viewer request we immediately got about setting up today’s show. We wondered if it would all come together but in fact it all proved to be very easy and so ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage our first gambler its American television presenter and actress Vanessa Minnillo.”
“Welcome to show Vanessa.”
“Thank you Emma, it’s great to be here.”
“”Can you tell us what brings you here today?”
“Well Emma, I 2011 I was brought in to replace the hostess of the television show Wipeout. Do you know it?”
“Yes Vanessa I think everyone that watches our show is familiar with the show.”
“Well that was season 5 of the show, and I thought everything went well, so it was a shock to me when it was announced that the show would return for a sixth season and that the former hostess was returning and that is why I am here today, because I want her to know that if you mess with me, I will get my revenge on you,” says Vanessa.
“Well Vanessa, I am sure that the majority of our viewers know who you are talking about, but for anyone else could you please introduce the lady you are looking for revenge on.”
“The lady I am looking to get revenge is Jill Wagner,” announces Vanessa.
“Welcome to the show Jill.”
“Thank you Emma, I am delighted to be here, I feel a kinship with you as we are both hosts of shows that people get messy on.”
“That’s true Jill, but you don’t seem very concerned about getting messy are you looking forward to it?” asks Emma.
“No of course not, but I know how this show works and I am certain that the viewers will choose to save me, after all I am the host of one of their favourite shows.”
“And you think that will save you and not condemn to a messy fate? Well we shall see, but before we open the voting lines we need to introduce our second gambling lady, now we have 2 presenters of the American version of Wipeout, but we have a British version as well and we have the presenter of that show, please welcome Amanda Byram to the show.”
“Welcome to the show Amanda.”
“Thanks Emma, I was delighted to be invited.”
“You were invited because you are seeking revenge on a particular contestant I believe.”
“That’s right Emma, as you may be aware, we have a number of celebrity specials, and they are always a bit of a pain and there were a number of those contestants I could of nominated but in the end, I choose one that feigned of injured after the first round which was a big disappointment to our viewers, and to one of our producers in particular.”
“So Amanda, who is this lady?”
“Emma, its BBC newsreader Ellie Crissell.”
“Ellie, you too are welcome to the show, you have heard what Amanda had to say, what do you have to say for yourself?” asks Emma.
“Emma, it was hardly my fault that I got hurt, and I think that Amanda should be ashamed of herself for using such a slim excuse to get me here. I am sure that the voters will see through that and save me and punish Amanda.”
“We shall see Ellie, because the voting lines are now open in our Wipeout special, so do you want to see Vanessa get her revenge on Jill and therefore Amanda suffering a messy forfeit, or will you save Amanda by granting her wish to get revenge on Ellie, which means that Vanessa will be suffering a forfeit. Stay tuned because this is the only place you will find out,” says Emma ending the first part of the show.
I almost considered canning this one because of what happened eleven days ago – Slayer’s lead guitarist Jeff Hanneman passed away due to liver cirrhosis. While it was a pretty disheartening event for a metal fan like myself, I’ve tried not to let it get to me too much. I never really know what to say about such events anyway.
Anyway, Slayer. One of the “Big Four of Thrash Metal” along with Anthrax, Megadeth and Metallica and generally the heaviest of the three. They’ve made some pretty good music (by my tastes anyway) over the years, but aren’t my favourite of the Big Four (that’s Anthrax).
Pineapple Dance Studios is a dance studio complex (big shock, I know) based in London, and subject of a docusoap back in 2010 called… well, Pineapple Dance Studios. It was on Sky which I didn’t have at the time, so I didn’t see it apart from the bits Harry Hill lampooned on TV Burp. I doubt I would have seen it even if I did have Sky though, apart from maybe out of a sense of morbid curiosity.
The two crossed over in episode 4 of the TV show, wherein some of their dancers performed in treacle for Slayer’s single “Beauty Through Order”. I’m sure the show can explain it better than I can.
And the end result? Through this link. No YT embed since it doesn’t seem to even exist on YT.
Disclaimer: 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.
Emma Crosby walked back onto the stage.
“Hello everyone and welcome back to the You Bet Your Own Back Wipeout special, all four of the ladies competing for your votes this evening are doing so related to their appearances on either the American or British version of the show and their immediate futures are in your hands.”
The crowd responds to this with cheering.
“So shall we invite them back out, first up we have our American pair, and of those our gambler is Vanessa Minnillo.”
“Welcome back Vanessa very soon I will be asking for the level of gunging that you intend inflicting on Jill, but first, how do you imagine the voting is going?” asks Emma.
“Well Emma, I think that having heard Amanda’s complaint against Ellie, and when I compare that against why I am here today, I am certain that the vast majority of people will vote for me to get my revenge on Jill,” says Vanessa.
“You sound confident Vanessa, but will you be confident enough to go for a level 3 gunging, we shall see very shortly, I wonder if Jill is as confident that you are wrong as you are that you are right, let’s bring her back out and find out.”
“Jill, we have heard how confident Vanessa is that she will be having her revenge, surely that means that you will be getting messy?”
“No Emma, it only means that she is more of a fool then I took her for, after all it’s a 50/50 chance that one of us will be gunged, so while I think that I have enough fans out there to avoid a gunging, I am not going to say that I definitely will,” says Jill.
“So Jill thinks that there are enough fans of hers out there to save her, and someone who hopes that she is right is Amanda Byram because that would mean that she would be having her revenge on Ellie.”
“Emma, I think that the double of Ellie and Vanessa getting gunged will prove to be much more popular and I am confident that I will get my own back on Ellie,” says Amanda.
“Well Amanda, we will get to see very soon how confident you are when I ask you for your gamble level, but before I do, I wonder how Ellie feels the voting is going?”
“Emma, I think that I will be safe, I think that Vanessa has a much better reason for seeking revenge than Amanda, and I think that Jill would prove to be much more popular than I am, so I am very confident I will be safe, in fact I hope that Amanda goes for the highest level possible so that she will suffer as much as possible at my hands for bringing me here,” says Ellie.
“Wow, Ellie certainly sounds confident, she seems to be daring Amanda to go for the highest level possible, but is that reverse psychology and will it work, we shall see soon as it is time for our gamblers to announce what level they wish to go for, but first I have some information that might impact on their choices. You see we couldn’t have a Wipeout special and not have a muddy and a wet forfeit, so the final pools for two of you ladies will be md and one of the buckets will contain water, which I am told will be very cold. This means that should you choose a level 1 forfeit, you will have no choice with your gunge, whereas a level 3 will give you two choices. As always at level 3 there will be the additional of having you losing lady suffering her forfeits in her underwear. I hope that is all clear, it’s really not all that difficult, so first up its Vanessa, what level do you choose for Jill remembering that you will have to suffer at the same level if you do not win the vote.”
“Emma, I was going to go for a level 2, but having seen Jill’s back, I think it’s clear of all to see that she is not wearing a bra, so if I go for level 3 she will suffer a topless gunging whereas I am only in danger of getting gunged in my underwear and I think the risk is worth it, after all I am going to win.”
“Thank you Vanessa, Jill could you please turn around so we can get an idea of what Vanessa is talking about.”
“I think Vanessa is right, but now it’s time for Amanda to choose her level, so Amanda what’s it going to be?”
“Emma, I think that going for a lower level than Vanessa would mean I would lose votes, so I too go for a level 3 gunging, and I am sure that Ellie will be in the chair in her underwear.”
“Thank you Amanda, so 2 level 3’s will be coming up, but who will be suffering these, well that’s up to you, but to give everyone an idea of who might be getting messy I will let you know how the voting is going to date. I can tell you that very early on one lady took a lead and has never looked back, in fact she has collected almost 72% of the 114 votes collected to date, and that lady is Amanda.”
Amanda cheers in delight and is quickly joined by Jill when she realises what Emma’s announcement means.
“So Amanda, it looks like the public think that you have a good case, you must be happy?” asks Emma.
“I am Emma, but I would be happier if this is the final result, so everyone please keep voting for me to gunge Ellie, and don’t forget, she will be in her underwear when I do it.”
“And Jill, not only are you avoiding a gunging, but you will get to take immediate revenge on Vanessa for bringing you here in the first place.”
“I know, it’s great, given that Vanessa was trying to gunge me topless, I will take great pleasure in getting her very messy, so I want everyone out there to keep voting for me, and I will ensure that you get what you are looking for,” says Jill.
“Not too long ago Ellie was daring Amanda to go for a level 3 gunging, now she has got her wish and it looks like it could backfire on her, how does that make you feel?”
“I’m extremely surprised, but there are only 114 votes cast, so that means that even though the percentage looks very bad, there are only 50 votes between us, so it could still turnaround significantly,” says Ellie who sounds less confident then her words would suggest she is.
“And finally, Vanessa, you came here to get revenge on Jill, but it looks like you will be getting messy at her hands, and it is all your own fault, how does that make you feel?”
“Emma, I will not lie, I am surprised that the voting has gone the way it has, but I still think I have the better case, and I also think that Jill will have to suffer her forfeit topless will have a major impact on the voting, so I still think that Jill will be in that chair and not me.”
“We shall see, as these 4 ladies have nothing left to say to influence you, it’s all up to you now, please keep voting and we shall see you in the final part of the show,” says Emma.
And so, The first part of the first round is all set up and ready to go. Below you shall find the list of votes that you shall be making in this round. The pages go live Saturday Morning, and you will have roughly 48 hours to make your vote, with polls closing Sunday evening/Monday morning/Whenever I get round to it. Any editor will be able to view the pages though, and they can look through to see if there are any mistakes (notably wrong picture, or wrong link).
And of course, good luck to all the women who probably have no idea what’s going on.
Pages will be live SATURDAY!!!!!
I’ve written a few different things on here so far. I get a kick out of writing them, and folks seem to enjoy them as well, so I plan to continue.
My problem is, I’ve got a handful of ideas, but no particular favorite. So I’m going to see if I can’t make a poll and open up the decision to a vote. Other suggestions not listed are welcome as well. Regardless of the outcome, time permitting, I’ll start in on something new soon. Thanks.
Thanks to the Messy Scenes blog and Wam Jake. As promised, the pie cannon returns, and its performance has been tweaked (the coverage is more thorough in area, but also thinner, I would say). On the receiving end are Aika Ōta (多田 愛佳), Yuki Kashiwagi (柏木 由紀) Haruka Katayama (片山 陽加), and quizmaster Mayu Watanabe (渡辺 麻友). Sadly, the best shot was taken by Karen Iwata (岩田 華怜), but because she is 15 (most likely 14 at time of filming) I can’t include it here.
Thanks to jfsredhead for the tip.
Gunged rubber ducks anyone? …Anyone? Okay, how about some girls gunging themselves and each other? Much more like it, right? They also turn their attention to a guy at the end, though I think the people who might like that would also be disappointed by his attire.
I can’t dislike this. It’s a silly song with a fun video, and only a couple of minutes long so it doesn’t get annoying. Not much else to say about it!
No Music Monday next week, but the week after will have two different videos to make up for it.
