All characters are fictional, and any resemblance to real persons is conincidence.
Sorry about the slow turnaround, but I trust you’ll prefer the story be good than be rushed!
The next segment of the show picks up exactly where the previous segment left off. In front of the sludge pool, Natalie and Clara conclude their handshake, and then turn to Stuart and Stephanie for guidance.
Natalie: Just to be clear, you’re the presenters, and Clara and I are the contestants?
Clara: [slaps hand to forehead] Yes! Oh dear me, it’s painful!
Natalie: So I guess now we go backstage to get changed for the first round?
Stuart: Oh, I’m afraid that won’t be possible. You see, we weren’t able to prepare anything in your dressing rooms, because that would have given the game away!
Stephanie: So instead you’ll have to use some on-stage facilities.
Clara: [sharply] I’m not getting undressed in front of all these people.
Stuart: Oh, don’t worry. Your privacy is assured! Come with this, as we play Round One!
ROUND 1: Beach Bums
Stuart and Stephanie lead the gown-clad women through a stage partion, and into the set for the first game, which like the Round One game from the previous episode, has a seaside theme. Seagulls call and that damned Wurlitzer warbles away again. This time, instead of the promenade, the game is set on the beach itself; a deep coating of sand covers the floor. Against a backdrop of the breaking sea, the main playing area is dominated by a grid, about 12 by 12, of sandcastles. Each sandcastle, which actually appears to have some kind of moulded casing, is three feet tall and one foot in diameter, with fancy turrets around its edge.
Stephanie: [takes a deep breath] Ahh, I do like to be beside the seaside.
Stuart: And we know you two enjoyed being here last episode. So, seeing as we’ve been having a bit of an Indian Summer*, we’ve brought you back here again for the first round, which is called Beach Bums!
At least we were when I started writing this two weeks ago.
Clara: That’s all very nice, but where exactly are we going to get changed?
Stephanie: Where do you normally get changed at the beach? Beach huts, of course!
Stephanie points to a pair of wooden cubicles, tall and extremely narrow, painted in the respective player colours. As she speaks, Stuart opens the doors, which are split into three sections, and gestures the girls to step inside.
Natalie: [walks into her ‘hut’, which is barely big enough to contain her] Ooo, it’s a bit of a tight fit, Stuey-kins.
Stephanie: Come along, Clara, in you go! Now, if both of you could face outwards, that’s it…
The two women comply, and Stuart closes the bottom and middle doors on each beach hut, leaving the top doors open to display the girls’ bemused faces and bare shoulders.
Clara: This is ridiculous. How am I supposed to get changed in here? I can’t even raise my arms!
Natalie: Yeah, and where are our outfits anyway?
Stuart: All is in hand, I assure you.
Stuart picks up a large, square saw-blade. Clara’s eyes widen as he approaches her.
Clara: What are you going to do with that?! No please, don’t…!!
Clara screams as Stuart slides the saw blade between the bottom and middle section of her hut.
Natalie: Don’t worry, Clara; the show paid for these dresses.
Clara: [peering down in horror] I’m more worried about my abdomen getting sliced through, to be honest!
Stuart Fear not, it’s all magic!
Stuart slides another saw blade into the same gap on Natalie’s beach hut. Natalie grunts in response.
Natalie: [stern] Stuart, when I said I wanted you to be rough with me, this wasn’t what I had in mind.
Ignoring Natalie’s protests, Stuart nods to Stephanie, who closes the top doors of the beach huts. Stuart then inserts further saw blades into the gaps between the top and middle sections, while muffled complaints emanate from inside. He lifts the top sections away and stacks them on the floor − the red one on top of the blue − before Stephanie reopens their doors.
Natalie: Heh heh − I’m head and shoulders above you!
Clara: [sighing] Why do I always get dragged down to this level?
Stuart proceeds to manipulate the remaining boxes, twisting them, re-stacking them, turning them upside-down…
Natalie Be careful there, Stuey-kins! You’re going to give me terrible stretch marks!
Stephanie: [to the camera] One of the great things about Grudge-2-Sludge is that even before our contestants get wet and messy, they’re already thoroughly embarrassed by what they have to wear… or sometimes, by what they don’t have to wear. So while Stuart gets to grips with Natalie’s and Clara’s bodies, let’s look back at those cringeworthy costumes!
Some farcical music commences, and with it, a video montage of snippets from previous episodes:
The shed door opens, and Siobhan and Gemma sheepishly step out. The mother and daughter are dressed in full-body unitards, bright green in colour and skin-tight so as to leave no detail of their figures to the imagination. Around their necks are ruffs made of large plastic ‘petals’ – red for Gemma and blue for Siobhan.
Rosie and Liv step into view, dressed in bunny costumes – not of the brown, fluffy, family-friendly variety, but of the Playboy variety. The dramatists’ outfits sparkle in their respective player colours, high-cut at the hip with semi-opaque tights below, low-cut at the chest with a lonely bow tie at the neck.
Jessica and Chloe appear at a conductor’s rail at the back of the set. The bandmates are dressed smartly in black tuxedos, white dress shirts, and bow ties of their player colour – on their top halves at least. But when they step out from behind the rail, their lower halves are revealed to be bare apart from frilly, polka-dotted panties.
Prisha and Georgia are wearing giant ice-cream cones. The players’ legs protrude through holes in the bases of the cones, while the rims take a wide berth at the level of their armpits. Underneath, each lady is wearing a sports bra of her player colour, while on their heads they are wearing pola-dotted showercaps.
Abby and Izabella are wearing 1980s-style leotards of a most shocking fuchsia pink, cut to a gold-edged ‘V’ at the flatmates’ chests and scooped extremely high at the hips. Full-length lime-green Lycra leggings clash violently. Although the costumes cover quite a lot of skin, they conceal nothing of Abby’s tight figure nor of Isabella’s curves.
A bashful Grace and even more sheepish Rob step out wearing maid costumes, with frilly white aprons, wide-hemmed dresses, and tights. The costumes are low-cut at the front to display some cleavage in Grace’s case, whereas Rob is bearing chest hair. They wear little white bonnets that don’t properly cover their hair.
The door of the lunar lander opens, and April and Roanna clamber out. The teachers’ motions are cumbersome because they are wearing bulky spacesuits with the Grudge-2-Sludge logo on the front. Their gloves are comically oversized, and with the fingers merged together. One aspect missing from these spacesuits are the helmets.
A door opens and Juliette and Bec step out wearing chicken suits, bright yellow and feathery, with bulging abdomens and oversized feet (but no head gear). The fiancées blush as they waddle through the straw.
Through the fog of the doorway, Sarah and Simon reluctantly emerge. The manager and worker are wearing grinning jack-o-lantern costumes, which form a bloated orange sphere from waist to neck (a ruff of green leaves adorns the latter), with their forearms sticking out of the sides. Their legs are clad in orange tights.
Kate and Ellie step reluctantly into the limelight. All the sisters are wearing are foam bottle costumes, which sheathe their torsos from neck to waist, with their arms protruding out the sides and their bare legs sticking out the base. The costumes are green and have a label of the player colour, on which is printed “Vin du Plonqueur”.
Abby is strapped to Katie, and Isabella to Ana, at the ankle and thigh, like in a three-legged race. Each pair also has their inner arms bound together, so they are essentially three-armed. They are wearing pizza chef outfits, comprising of checkered trousers, white double-breasted shirts, and neckerchiefs in their team colours.
Nitrous Oxide and Beth Bathory sit in the frying pans, their lower legs poking through the base. Nitrous Oxide’s legs are clad in her leather trousers, while Beth has been forced to hitch up her flowing Victorian dress around her thighs, so that her legs poking through are bare. Jessica and Chloe come to stand next to their respective teammates, wearing French waitress costumes with frilly white aprons, short skirts and stockings.
Sitting on rocky islands are Fenelope and Nisha, dressed in mermaid costumes, an iridescent fish tail on their lower halves, and nothing but string bikini tops with seashell cups on their upper halves. Grace and Rob appear wearing sailor stiped suits (without hats).
Alice and Sophie are full-length salon capes, but with the interesting addition of a wide ring at neck level, so that their head is in the middle of the ring, with netting reaching down to their chests. Prisha and Georgia wear salon tunics, together with oversized, padded sneakers on their feet and comedy-sized mittens on their hands.
Gemma and Siobhan descend into shot, side by side, suspended on harnesses. They are wearing green bodices, elaborately pleated to look like a leafy salad. In particular, a pair of ‘lettuce leaves’ cups each woman’s bust. Downstairs, a giant ‘pitta bread’ flares out around the waist, through which bare legs protrude, such that the women are forced into an unseemly squatting position.
April’s PE kit is far too small for her curvy figure; her shorts are more like trunks, skin-tight around her hips and bum and leaving her thighs bare. Her spare tyre is likewise exposed by an inadequately sized white t-shirt. Roanna’s attire, on the other hand, is ridiculously oversized. Her t-shirt hangs off her figure like a maternity smock, and her knee-length shorts are flared and baggy. Both teachers’ kit is splotched with faint mud and grass stains.
Juliette and Bec are dressed in sexy elf costumes comprising green low-cut tunic, green shorts, and stripey stockings. Brilliant white light shines from above. Carissa and Shawna descend from the ceiling on harnesses, dressed in flowing angel’s gowns with prominent wings affixed to their backs.
Simon and Sarah wear black and white striped jerseys and black trousers. Above them, Kel and Irene are dressed in police uniforms, each equipped with a literal ‘long arm of the law’, which has a mechanical grabber at the end.
Up on the balconies Rosie and Liv spring into view, strapped to hydraulic chairs. They are attired in Elizabethan dresses, with square bust-lines that reveal the tops of their breasts, and light veils affixed to the backs of their heads. In the gardens below, Kerri and Mark walk on sheepishly. They are wearing typical Tudor male attire – specifically tunic, knee-length britches, and hose.
Kate and Ellie are dressed in washer-woman costumes, comprised of frilly, floral, long-sleeved dresses with wide hoop hems and bloomers underneath. A curtain rises to reveal Natalie and Alyson, who are pared down to their underwear. Natalie (not the presenter) seems to enjoy the attention levelled at her semi-naked body, while crimson creeps into Alyson’s cheeks as she seeks to limit her exposure with her arms.
The audiences claps as the montage ends.
Stephanie: Oh dear! Poor Alyson wasn’t at all happy at being exposed in her undies on TV! But hey, if you turn up to be in our studio audience, then bad things can happen to you. Speaking of which, we have got a bumper Find a Friend coming up later, so watch out!
The audience chuckle nervously.
Stephanie: But for now, it’s time to reveal the girls’ new outfit. Stuart, are you done?
Stuart: Just about!
Stuart performs a couple of fine tweaks on the stacks, then picks up the boxes that contain the women’s heads.
Natalie: Make sure you get it right, Stuart! I don’t want to end up with Clara’s small boobs!
Clara: [sourly] My body doesn’t want to end up with your small brain.
Stuart removes the saws, eliciting more grunts from the women. Then he opens the lower doors and invites the women to step out.
Clara: I’m going to have neck-ache for the next wee−[looks down at herself] bloody hell!
Natalie: [inspecting herself] Cooo!!
The elegant dresses have vanished, replaced by string micro-bikinis in the respective player colours. The bikinis, which bear the show’s branding on the small areas of fabric available, are designed to cover up the stark essentials and very little else. Even though Clara is a professional model, and Natalie an amateur exhibitionist, the pair can’t help but blush under the veritable hailstorm of wolf-whistles from the audience.
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Stephanie: [waving her hands] Alright!! Folks, that’s enough! Come on now, hush, or I’ll have to turn the cold-water sprinklers on you! [Eventually the audience quietens] Still, can’t blame you. What a pair of bods, eh? [Wolf-whistles herself]
Clara: [disgusted] I’m your sister.
Stuart: I sure agree, Stephanie. [Gets a harsh look from Natalie and hurriedly corrects himself] At least, I agree when it comes to Natalie. I think we should see the back view. Turn around, girls!
Natalie and Clara duly turn one-eighty. At the back, the bikini bottoms consist only of a string across the waist and another that disappears into the crack, leaving Natalie’s round cheeks (which Stuart takes the opportunity to smack) and Clara’s slimmer but nicely fleshy butt effectively bare.
It is interesting to observe that Natalie is tattoo-free – somewhat surprising for a woman of her persona. As outed previously in the show, Clara sports a butterfly on her right side above her hip. She also has a second, more enigmatic tattoo on her left buttock.
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Stephanie: Oooh, I didn’t know about that one.
Stuart: Were you trying to cheat in an exam? Would’ve been easier to access on your arm!
Clara: [indignant] I had it done after I graduated. It’s the Boltzmann postulate!
Natalie: [guffaws] The Boltzmann posterior, more like!
Clara: It states that disorder in the universe is destined to increase!
Stuart: Mmm, and there are few places where that is truer than this show! Which brings us nicely to our first game. Now, while sandcastle vandalism is normally the last thing I’d advocate, in this case those pesky kids have trapped some starfish inside, so you need to smash those sandcastles open to free them.
Stephanie: However, you’re only allowed to smash the sandcastles with one particular body part, and it shouldn’t be hard to guess which!
Stuart: But if you do need a clue, remember the game is called Beach Bums! [Gives Natalie’s bottom another smack]
Stephanie: Inside most of the sandcastles you will find a starfish inside, which will you will need to place inside your net. Each starfish wins you 1 point.
At opposite sides of the grid of sandcastles, nets of the player colours hang, with narrow openings at their tops.
Stuart: You don’t need to carry the starfish across one at a time; you can save up as many as you like to deposit in one go. Just remember that starfish must be netted when the clock hits zero in order to count, and that any you drop are fair game for your opponent to snatch.
Natalie: Do we have to carry the starfish using our bums?
Stuart: [laughs] I’m sure with your cheeks you’d be able to do it, darling, but no. You can pick up the starfish with your hand; the only thing you must use your bums for is to smash open the sandcastles.
Stephanie: Now, I mentioned that most of the sandcastles have a starfish in them, but a few contain a crab instead, and if you sit on of those you will know about it! [Chuckles]
Stuart: Crabs are worth minus two points, so don’t put them in your own net, whatever you do. However, you can put them in your opponent’s net to knock down their store.
Stephanie: One more thing, the UV levels are high today, so you’ll need to wear sunglasses for your protection.
Stuart produces two pairs of sunglasses from up his sleeve and hands them to Natalie and Clara. They are actually more like goggles, encompassing the girls’ entire field of vision. The lenses are smoked and blurred.
Clara: I can barely see a thing out of these!
Stuart: That’s the idea – wouldn’t want to make things too easy for you. Although it may be an unnecessary precaution; I’ve just heard news that the Indian summer is about to turn into a monsoon!
Stephanie: I would wish you good luck, ladies, but frankly you don’t deserve it. You have 90 seconds on the clock, and it starts… NOW!!
The klaxon blasts. Stephanie and Stuart make themselves scarce. For a second or so, Clara and Natalie freeze in panic, flummoxed by this situation that they’ve been so used to throwing contestants into. Then, remembering the sky-high stakes they are playing for, they jolt into action and run into the grid of sandcastles. As predicted by Stuart, the weather is already starting to turn, and drizzle diffuses through the air.
Natalie seats herself on one of the sandcastles. It fails to give, so she lifts her bum and brings it down hard on the turrets, successfully smashing them. The top foot or so of the sandcastle consists of a hollow cavity – except it is not really hollow. Natalie’s butt and crotch plough into a pocket of mushy peas, which spurt up though her crack and between her thighs.
Almost simultaneously, Clara learns the same thing. Her smaller stature means that her bum can’t quite reach the sandcastle without jumping backwards onto it. She does this, and an explosion of off-white paste (semolina, to be precise) is the result, spraying down her legs, and up her midriff.
Natalie and Clara: Eeuuurggh!!
Stuart and Stephanie can be heard laughing out of shot. The audience cheers. Natalie and Clara stand up, their bums dripping and respectively green and white in colour. They squint into the cavities they have uncovered, but the obscuring sunglasses make it difficult to see the starfish, and they have to plunge in their hands to feel for them.
Natalie goes to bank her starfish. Clara keeps hers at hand and reluctantly bombs onto another sandcastle. She moans as custard explodes around her rump. Natalie returns to the fray, sits on a sandcastle, and sinks into chocolate sauce. When she stands up again, her arse is brown.
Stuart: [laughing] Oh really, Natalie! Don’t you know how to use toilet paper?!
The rain is now coming down steadily, glistening on the girls’ bare skin and making their hair damp as they continue to sit on the sandcastles, wincing before each butt-plunge and groaning in the aftermath. Having received two dessert courses, Clara now gets two savoury options – gravy and fish paste, much to her disgust. Natalie splats into honey, and follows this with a pile of feathers, which of course stick to the honey, turning her bum into a feathery cushion. The audience chuckle at this, but their amusement is soon distracted elsewhere…
Clara: Yeeooow!! [leaps off the sandcastle she has just sat on]
Stephanie: Oh dear! Clara’s got crabs!
Rubbing her arse cheek with one hand, with the other Clara lifts a mechanical crab out of the sandcastle, it’s pincers still snapping. Remembering the negative points value that these crustaceans bring, she heads towards Natalie’s net. Natalie, realising what is going on, moves through the rows of sandcastles, to intercept the Clara-shaped blur she can see through her goggles.
Natalie: Oh no you don’t!
The pair collide clumsily.
Clara: Out of my way!
Clara thrusts the crab towards Natalie’s chest. Its claw pinches Natalie’s bikini top, and evidently what lies underneath as well.
Natalie: Owww!!
Stephanie: Hey, that’s enough, you two! Break it up!
A model seagull swoops from above and discharges some white gunk, which splatters on both women’s shoulders and hair. In the chaos, Natalie tumbles over onto the stand (which further dishevels her), and Clara is able to get past and drop the crab into Natalie’s net.
The rain intensifies as the game continues. Natalie’s and Clara’s hair becomes sopping and lank, although they welcome the wash-off it gives to their backsides. They continue to squelch down onto the sandcastles, taking the punishment to their posteriors (and the bikinis’ tiny crotch pieces don’t offer much protection to their more intimate regions either). Natalie discovers the horrors of having crabs, as does Clara for a second time. Natalie also hits on the nifty trick of using her bikini strings to stash her starfish, holding them against her hips. At least it is nifty until the string on one side twangs too far, causing a number of starfish to spill on the floor.
Natalie: Oh cripes!
Natalie gets down onto her knees to pick up the starfish, but it is hopeless trying to squint through the distorting goggles. She lifts them for a sneaky peak…
Stuart: Uh-uh! Keep those goggles on, young lady!
The seagull descends and drops a dollop of white onto Natalie’s head and back as punishment. Meanwhile, Clara, turning the corner, fails to see Natalie crouching there, and bungles straight over her. She lands front-down on a sandcastle, sending baked beans flying everywhere.
Stephanie: Tut tut, Clara, you used the wrong body part!
No sooner has Clara stood up up, her chest and bikini top dripping with beans, then the seagull drops its punishment bomb on her.
Clara: Hey! It’s not like it’s my fault!
Stuart: Ten seconds left! Nine! [Stephanie and audience join in] EIGHT!!
The two women set aside their guano woes and rush to deposit what starfish they have. The rain is now torrential.
Stuart, Stephanie and audience: …SEVEN!! SIX!! FIVE!! FOUR!!
Natalie pulls out the starfish from all the places she has stashed them around her bikini. Clara too grapples with her net.
Stuart, Stephanie and audience: THREE!! TWO!! ONE!!
The klaxon blares. Natalie totters backwards to land on her arse in the sand. Clara too collapses in a heap. The rain promptly stops, but in its place two seagulls drop a bumper payload of white gunk on the players, who squawk in distress.
Stephanie: [walking casually onto the set] Oh no!! It’s really annoying when that happens, isn’t it?
Stuart: [in tow] Sure is! Our beach bums really made arses of themselves, ha ha! Come over here girls!
Goggles removed, Natalie and Clara flash resentful looks at the honorary presenters as they pick themselves up and slouch over to the front of the set. The hair of both is sodden, bedraggled and streaked with white, while their backsides continue to drip with assorted mess and sand sticks to their bodies (and in Clara’s case, her front is an orange baked-bean mess). She pulls away her bikini top slightly and flicks away a bean that has found its way inside. Natalie too is rubbing her bikini top, to nurse her crab-nipped nipple. The teeth of both women chatter intermittently.
Stephanie: Not very comfortable, is it? This is what you’ve subjected those poor contestants to episode after episode, so I can’t say I’ve much sympathy!
Stuart: But whose efforts have paid off? It’s time to count up the bounties, starting with Nat’s net!
Natalie glares at her boyfriend for using this forbidden shortening off her name. Stuart waves his wand, and the contents of the red net spill from the bottom.
Stuart: Counting starfish first, we’ve got one, two, three… fifteen, sixteen, seventeen… mmm, not at all bad. But Clara managed to get two crabs in there, so that brings your score down to 13!
Now it’s Clara who becomes the target of Natalie’s glare.
Stephanie: Mmm, could that score be unlucky for one? We won’t know until Clara’s catch is counted, which I’m going to do now.
Stephanie doesn’t have the benefit of magic at her disposal, so instead pulls a string at the bottom of the blue net, jumping back as the sloppy starfish spill out.
Stephanie: Right then, Clara. You’ve got one, two [drags the starfish from one pile to another with her feet], three… fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen – oh, one more – eighteen starfish! Natalie managed to sneak in one crab, which takes you down by 2, so in the end – 16 points!
Stuart: Which means the scores look like this…!
![Natalie 13, Clara 16]()
Clara: Oh yeaah!!
Natalie scowls and throws a starfish at Clara.
Stephanie: Ooh, a healthy start for Clara there! Natalie’s right to be unhappy, but on the other hand, it’s still early days, and as you will well know, there are plenty of points up for grabs in our second round – Flan the Frauds.
Clara: We’ll be off backstage to get cleaned up and changed then.
Stephanie: Oh no you won’t! There isn’t time for that!
Natalie: Oh God, we don’t have to go back in those boxes, do we?
Stuart: No, don’t worry! There’s isn’t time for that either.
Clara: [losing patience] So where are we getting changed then? And where are our dresses!?
Stephanie: Your dresses are safe and well and you’ll be reunited with them later, but for the time being you can carry on exactly as you are!
Natalie: What?!
Stuart: Who in the audience thinks that Natalie and Clara should carry on the match in their present state – near naked and smeared in mess?
An unbroken sea of hands presents itself around the studio.
Stephanie: Well that’s settled then. Natalie and Clara, stop griping and follow us to play…
Stuart and Stephanie together: Flan the Frauds!
ROUND 2: Flan the Frauds (Unsuccessful Applicant Edition)
The familiar FtF title sequence plays, and the show returns with Stuart and Stephanie leading the way onto the equally familiar set. There is a slight variation on the usual theme, however: instead of seven participants equispaced in a row, there are ten, each in their own style of dress, standing in pairs.
The bikini-clad Natalie and Clara tag along behind Stuart and Stephanie, grumbling at their wet and messy states, and trying to shake themselves down.
Stuart: Come on, you two! Stop fussing at the back!
Stephanie: Take a seat, girls! [Gestures the famous armchairs] Don’t worry about messing up the upholstery; it’s the last show.
Natalie and Clara park their sullied butts on the armchairs, continuing to fidget in discomfort.
Stuart: So here we are, Stephanie, ready for our final turn of Flan the Frauds!
Stephanie: Indeed, Stuart. When those games get a bit hectic and those grudges get too heated, Flan the Frauds is a great way to cool things down with some friendly chit-chat.
Stuart: And some very high quality chit-chat we’ve had too. We’ve discussed the ethics of zoos, the pros and cons of nuclear power, the future of the postal service in the digital age and, um, where you keep your keys when you’re a naturist!
Stephanie: But mostly, Stuart, it’s about the flans.
Stuart: It is indeed about those flans. And guess what, ladies and gents, exactly 50 frauds – or sometimes non-frauds – have been flanned to date!
Stephanie: A nice round number for those big round flans! And thanks to the marvels of technology, here’s a change to enjoy every single one of those flannings again!
Another compilation commences, set to overly-epic orchestral music…
Evie: I’m a watersports lifeguard at Lake Windermere.
Sayeeda: I referee for under-15s.
Alexandra: I’m a university lecturer.
Melissa: I sat next to Natalie in maths class.
Laura: I look after fish.
Lauren: I’m a mature student who hasn’t lost her inner child.
Wedding Meghan: I’ve married the Prince of my dreams!
Patricia: I deliver to a little village surrounded by rolling countryside.
Fiona: I work for the tax office.
Victoria: I spend most my time blowing my whistle at idiots.
Nicola: I needed a job, I applied for this one, and I got it.
Giulia: I am from Italy.
Heather: I’m a vegan, in fact.
Rhiannon: I’m an outgoing person.
Zoë: I’m a reptile nut!
Akua: I used to bully Nat.
Kayleigh: Ah deliver to a council estate in Glasgy.
Trooping the Colour Meghan: I never have to cook because we have servants.
Irene: I didn’t want to become a physics teacher.
Lydia: I refuse to use the Dewey Decimal System.
Linda: My mother was an air hostess before me.
Valentina: I grow up with nuclear rrreactor.
Yvonne: The Trunchbull is a great role model of mine.
Mrs Mercator: I was one of the ‘big girls’.
Lucy: I like to show off my body, my sexy body!
Ballroom Meghan: I get to wear fabulous outfits.
Hannah: Normally I wear a lot more than a swimsuit!
The music steps up a key change.
Clara: All of these ladies came here tonight expecting to be in the studio audience…
Natalie: …but we had other plans for them!
Paparazzi Beach Meghan: Well, I was hoping to enjoy a little bit of a private life.
Natalie: Coming here to be in our studio audience, expecting to chuckle at someone else’s embarrassment, is a dangerous, dangerous thing to do!
Clara: It’s only fair play that they find themselves on the receiving end of a penalty shoot-out!
Natalie: You can ask them pretty much anything…
Clara: …any question that comes to mind.
Rosie: What’s the biggest mistake you’ve made?
Hannah: Sitting on a windswept beach all day in early March.
Jessica: What made you decide to work in the nuke business?
Xia: It was my husband who got me into it, some years ago now.
Simon: How are you going to deal with me?
Mary: Well, uh, [fiddles with her cardigan], I did once come across an interesting book on torture methods in Imperial China…
Kate: How does it feel, putting it bluntly, to not have a life any more?
Chelle: I’m not worried! The efficiency of the postcode system is fit for the twenty-first century!
Natalie: You can also – and I hesitate to suggest this – get them to perform an action.
Simon: [keenly] Okay ladies, let’s see you do the butterfly stroke.
Ellie: Let’s see you all curtsey and say “Your Majesty”.
Rosie: Let’s see all of you running backwards in three, two, one – AND ACTION!!
Isabella: Tell me to be quiet!
Siobhan: Just show me where the exits are.
Georgia: Have you ever been arrested while naked?
Tessa: Only time I had one of those moments was on my first day…
Victoria: …at a public swimming baths in the West Midlands…
Amy: …at the busiest time of day…
Nell: …while I held out my lollipop!
Cerys: Not an offence in itself.
April: [shaking her head] Well give yourself a gold star…
Siobhan: What inspired you to take up this career?
Wedding Meghan: It’s hard to describe exactly what I was thinking….
Danielle: It’s a great way to get noticed.
Imogen: I started doing it for a bit of pocket money when I was a teenager, and I just carried on.
Nicola: …Some kind of compulsive ritual, I guess.
Gemma: Let’s get down to serious matters: how do you make the perfect G&T?
Anne: Ahh, this old chestnut.
Lauren: Take a trip deep into the woodland…
Anne-Marie: …Make sure you wear lots of suncream…
Rhiannon: …Add a slice of lime…
Chelle: …a banana – no external packaging or anything…
Clara: …panda poop…
Zahra: …high-grade plutonium…
Sinead: …jelly and pickle.
Natalie: Dear me, that’s all a bit nauseating.
Valentina: Sometimes prrressure is too big and lid blow off…
Katarzyna: It wrap itself around handbrake!
Sayeeda: …And then the linesman raises his flag…
Zoë: …which led to a party of 500 schoolchildren being evacuated.
Alexandra: I think that had more to do with the fact I’d chained myself to a fracking rig.
Liv: Wouldn’t be my idea of fun, so why did you do it?
Ruth: Well, I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy and into big beasty machines.
Wendy: When I say ‘toy’, I mean one for grown-ups!
Sue: …stimulating environments.
Lauren: It sounds so sinful!
Sayeeda: I used to let myself be intimidated…
Jaycee: I don’t get into all the technical ins and outs of it, and I try to avoid pressing the buttons.
Danielle: Afterwards when I saw the photos it was clear it had gone in.
Xia: At first it was a social thing; now we mainly do it for our own enjoyment.
Linda: Heaven every time!
Amy: I think one should be installed outside every library.
Sarah: The Cornish will be delighted.
Natalie: Before we get sidetracked…
Clara: Next question, please!
Siobhan: What’s the weirdest or grossest incident you’ve had to deal with in your career?
Ashley: Natalie went through a spotty phase. Only she didn’t get spots on her face; she got them on her−
Mary: SILENCE!!!!
Paparazzi Beach Meghan: I do beg your pardon?
Fred: Next time bring a boom-box so we can all hear it!
[Music halts with a record-scratching sound]
Natalie: Alright! That’s enough! We’re supposed to be a family show!
[Music resumes]
Clara: Folks, if you haven’t guessed it, we’re taking the nuclear option!
Natalie: Any participant who is for real will answer you honestly…
Clara: …A fraud will do her utmost to bluff and deceive you…
Natalie: …And we’ve given them just 30 minutes of online research time!
Clara: Choose one of the line-up you think is a fraud, and give them a very special delivery!
Chelle: Use the postcode…
Natalie: Make sure your shot’s on target…
Rhiannon: Serve with a smile!
Natalie: And when I say flan, look at these – these are proper huge flans!
Clara: Not exactly the royal fashion this season…
Natalie: …And it could be yours to wear very soon!
Courtney: Strewth!
Zahra: Oh shit!
Maria: [spitting at the camera] How do I [klaxon] get out!?
Natalie: There’s no need for explicit language!
Clara: The threat of a flan-filled face should serve to sharpen your wits.
Natalie: Avoid getting flan splattered goodness knows where…
Clara: Flan in your ear-holes, down your cleavage…
Victoria: …In my hair, drying out my skin, making my eyes hurt… horrible stuff!
Giulia: It even fly up my skirt! [Shudders] I still have nightmares!
Sarah: …Probably isn’t as glamorous as TV makes it out to be.
Laura: Things could turn very ugly.
Trooping the Colour Meghan: [shrugging] It probably won’t affect me.
Kayleigh: Ah think ye’d grumble!
Ruth: Yes, it is bad, but you also have to admire the raw, brutal power…
Ange: Ah get a kick out of it!
Stella: …the perfect way to blow off a Friday- or Saturday-night hangover!
Rebecca: I swear it makes me more aerodynamic!
Heather: I’ve always wanted to be flanned!
Clara: Two more flannings if you want them.
Lucy: Choose your target, baby! Uhh-hmm!
Fiona: I want to do something different.
Prisha: What would you suggest?
Amy: How about the Sludge Sling?
Clara: Uhh… I suppose you can if you want.
Natalie: Let’s see how it works out for you.
Clara: Well ladies, here’s the good news.
Natalie: Any of you who manages to avoid the flans will receive a rather more pleasant article instead.
Abby: A book on cross-stitch patterns.
Jaycee: A free all-year tan.
Linda: …Return home to sleep in my own bed.
Clara: We’ll also gift you a £250 cash prize!
Natalie: [waves a pile of golden envelopes] Yep, each of these contains £250 cash!
Mary: Seven-four-six, to be precise.
Ballroom Meghan: [wiggling] Money money money…!!
Nicola: There are bills to be paid…
Tessa: People want their 60-inch TVs and their smartphones…
Bernadette: …Posh houses, nice dresses, dashing gentlemen…
Trooping the Colour Meghan: …Gala dinners in aid of the starving, that sort of thing.
Fay: Rio de Janeiro… all the music, dancing…
Kaz: Anywhere in the Caribbean’ll do me nicely!
Rhiannon: Tokyo – amazing place.
Valentina: Ukrrrainian Soviet Socialist Rrrepublic.
Hannah: Skegness.
Stella: A crisp morning in the sunshine.
Sporting Meghan: A mean game of polo.
Patricia: …when all the birds are singing and the day is just beginning.
Fred: Why not come in the middle of the night with a crowbar?
Jaycee: Lying back in front of the glowing green stuff…
Lauren: Frolicking with the fairies.
Joanna: I like to talk to them.
Justine: Just sit in the garden path and refuse to budge.
Rebecca: Saves money as there’s no commuting.
Wendy: Come on people, how much does a little oil cost?
Hannah: Don’t jump into water unless you know what’s beneath the surface.
Kaz: You’ll only get lager fermented from the plane toilets!
Sayeeda: Beer-breathed oafs…
Laura: The three-banded clownfish.
Melissa: Frogs in places she would find them: 10 points in her lunchbox, 20 points in her PE shorts…
Tessa: It’s a prank we play on all the new starters.
Victoria: And no, you’re not getting a kiss of life!
Natalie: Pwwff! It’s all mange tout to me, but what do you make of it?
Clara: Is everyone clear on everything?
Amy: It’s written so clearly I can even understand some of it!
Natalie: Are we good to go?
Clara: Then let’s play Flan the Frauds!
Soo-Jin: Everyone have super awesome time!
The music changes to an up-tempo trance number. The flannings are shown back-to-back at double speed, each accompanied by a ‘splat’ sound effect that quickly gets annoying.
Caption: Airhostess Edition
The heaped shaving cream engulfs not only Jenny’s face, but the entire front half of her head, as well as her shoulders and upper torso. Her jacket is wrecked, and blobs of cream drop down onto her tights and shoes. Jenny spits cream away from her mouth, and scoops it away from around her eyes.
Pastel pink shaving cream sprays out in all directions as Fay staggers back from the force of the hit. Her face and the front of her afro hairstyle are completely buried under the goo, forming a creamy pink disc through which the only discernible features are blinking eyes and a gaping mouth.
Guilia doubles up in shock. Siobhan then slides the flan upwards, playfully rubbing it around Giulia’s head, blanketing the Italian’s short hair. She leaves the crumpled pie tin on top of Giulia’s head like a hat. Laughing, Giulia removes her glasses, revealing two uncovered circles.
Kaz, who smirks knowing the game is up. What Kaz doesn’t expect is ferocity with which Gemma pummels her overbronzed kisser, nearly knocking her over. After screwing the pie around her victim’s hair, Gemma slaps what is left of it into Kaz’s prodigious bust.
Gemma turns and swings her pie, which ploughs into Nicola sideways on. The redhead is left with one side of her head and face unscathed, and the other buried under a mound of pink cream. After a few seconds, she screams in delayed reaction.
Caption: Librarian Edition
Yvonne jolts slightly as the pale-blue shaving cream buries the front half of her head. Isabella gives it a good rub in and then pushes the pie onto the top of Yvonne’s head. Yvonne’s mouth spits from the centre of the big blue blob that her head has become.
Abby smushes the pie into Bernadette’s face, sending pink cream flying outwards. She rubs the pie up and down, gives it a twist, then does an up-and-over, completing the engulfment of Bernadette’s head. Bernadette blinks her eyes clear and issues a self-deprecating laugh.
Isabella slams the pie, two-handed as before, into Nisha’s face. She bends the tin, crumpling it around Nisha’s head until it meets itself around the back. Flailing about, Nisha clutches at the crumpled pie tin and lifts it away, leaving a cylinder of blue cream around her shocked head.
Fred makes a concerted point of not reacting or moving as the pie envelops her face and the pink-tinted cream splatters onto the shaved side of her head. As Abby pushes the pie upwards, she folds the tin in two so that it clasps onto Fred’s mohawk. Fred is still chewing her gum.
Abby swings the pie into Lydia’s face, and massages the pie through Lydia’s shoulder-length red hair. The deed done, Lydia reaches up and removes her huge hipster glasses, taking a large chunk of cream with them and revealing that the upper half of her face has been unscathed by the pie. Natalie hands another pie to Abby, who promptly slams it into Lydia’s face, completing the coverage.
Caption: Lifeguard Edition
Anne-Marie puckers her lips and flutters her eyelashes at Simon in a “you wouldn’t” pose. Simon, however, does! The 18-inch disc of shaving foam covers the whole of Anne-Marie’s face, upper chest and shoulders. Simon pushes the flan upwards, burying her swishy blonde hair as well.
Judy’s eyes close and her giggling intensifies further as Sarah draws back the pie. It forcefully engulfs Judy’s head, sending cream flying into her hair. The tin smears blue over Judy’s chest and ample cleavage. Judy clucks with laughter, blobs of cream sliding inside her swimsuit.
Lynzey fixes Simon with a moody look seconds before he slams the pie into her face, sending goo spurting in all directions. He screws the pie tightly against her face before pushing upwards into her hair. He then pulls open the back of her swimsuit, and drops the remainder inside.
Evie groans and puts her hand to her forehead. Sarah gently pulls the hand away and then pummels Evie with the flan. The light-blue cream forms a vivid contrast with the black girl’s dark skin, as it blankets her face and upper shoulders and fills her braided hair.
Simon slaps the flan into Hannah’s front and face. Standing with her hands on her hips, the brawny lass is unmoved, even when Simon massages the cream into her hair. Simon walks leaving the pie tin on Hannah’s face. Hannah slowly raises a hand and pulls it away, spitting out a glob of cream.
Taking advantage of Soo-Jin’s height (or lack thereof), Sarah plonks her pie hard on the crown of Soo-Jin’s head. Pastel-blue cream plops down, coating Soo-Jin’s face, chest, shoulders and the back of her hair. Sarah leaves the pie tin in place like a hat, while Soo-Jin gapes in surprise.
Caption: Postie Edition
The pie is delivered in an uppercut to Justine’s chin, leaving an especially heavy bulk of cream around her lower face, as well plopping into the opening of her t-shirt. Nonetheless, plenty of the cream sprays upwards, whipping up her fringe, and turning her hair from black to pale blue.
Juliette smashes the pie into Kayleigh’s face, wielding surprising force for a wannabe princess. The cream engulfs the front half of Kayleigh’s head, covering her shaved sides as well as the longer hair on top. Kayleigh grabs the pie tin and flings it after Juliette, who narrowly dodges.
Bec holds the pie under the Chelle’s face. She swings around 180 degrees, slamming the flan into the face of neighbouring Katarzyna, who is completely unprepared. The Polish woman staggers back as blue cream sprays out in all directions, some it catching Chelle and Bec herself.
Patricia smirks and closes her eyes. The flan engulfs her big nose first, followed by the rest of her face, and then her curly ginger hair as Juliette crumples the pie tin around her head. Patricia removes her glasses, leaving two circular patches of uncovered skin, and smiles sheepishly.
Caption: Meghan Markle Lookalike Edition
Ellie thrusts the pie towards Royal Engagement Megan’s face. Through a combination of Ellie’s clumsiness with the huge object and R.E. Megan’s instinctive ducking away from it, the hit is off-centre. Nonetheless R.E. Megan’s face gets a full masking of the thick blue foam.
The mound smushes into Paparazzi Beach Meghan’s face and lower body, all the way down to her bikini top. Large globs hang from her bikini clad breasts and sit in her cleavage.. Her hands still on her hips, P.B. Meghan’s mouth drops open in a gasping laugh. Her hair has escaped fairly lightly.
The pie splats dead on centre in Ballroom Meghan’s face – a hard hit that sends blobs flying backwards into her hair and downwards onto the sheer material of her ball gown. Ellie completes the flanning with a classic top-of-the-head move. Ballroom Meghan responds with a rueful grin.
The pie collides first with Trooping the Colour Meghan’s wide-brimmed hat, which is pushed backward and falls away behind her. It is still a satisfying hit, burying the front of T.t.C Meghan’s head all the way to her ears. Kate takes pleasure in smearing the cream all over Meghan’s beige dress.
True to name, Sporting Meghan leans forward slightly for an easier shot. Ellie doesn’t reciprocate much goodwill, delivering home a hard slam that spurts cream down Sporting Meghan’s grey jogging suit. Meghan, less sporting than she was, flicks some of the cream back in retaliation.
Caption: Nuclear Engineer Edition
Irene’s face screws in annoyance and incredulity. In fitting frontwoman’s flamboyance, Jessica bowls the pie and strikes Irene high on the forehead, so that the pastel pink shaving foam covers the the top of Irene’s head. Jessica drags downwards so the rest of Irene’s face gets a thorough doing.
Jaycee instinctively jerks away as Chloe prepares to deploy. Chloe proves she can move quickly when she needs to and splats forcefully in Jaycee’s face, sending cream spraying into the woman’s blonde hair. Ample amounts drop through the open slit of the radiation suit, onto Jaycee’s cleavage.
Valentina tilts her head and raises her arms in a shrug. Jessica deploys her pie, starting with Valentina’s face, then whizzing it several times around the plump woman’s head, even hooking Valentina’s hair clips, which cause her hair to come loose and twist round her face with the pie.
Jessica takes a step back. Deftly, she flings the pie at the redhead, her aim perfect to the inch. The tin bounces off Ruth’s head, leaving a face, hair and neckline complete coated and disheveled by the blue cream. Ruth’s mouth gapes black amid the blue.
Zahra raises her chin defiantly. Chloe shrugs and presses forth the pie, the blue cream completely burying the Iranian woman’s face and the front of her hair. Zahra pulls her glasses out of the blue morass, her dark-brown eyes blinking in the two small gaps that are left behind.
Caption: Referee Edition
Imogen closes her eyes and pulls her mouth up in a tight grimace. Liv, fearing splat-back, twists away as she swings the pie. Imogen is caked in the pastel-blue foam from her shoulders and collar bone up to the top of her hair bun. Her eyes blink and her small mouth gasps.
Rosie slaps a handful of shaving foam onto the bare skin of Stella’s belly. Stella gasps and instinctively looks down. Rosie capitalises with an uppercut that nicely covers Stella’s face, as well her referee shirt down to her bust. Rosie slaps the pie tin once more against Stella’s belly.
The flan hits the side of Courtney’s head, straight into her voluminous, curly blonde hair. Realising her error, Liv slides the tin sideways onto Courtney’s face to complete the coverage. Courtney’s ruined hair also gets dragged across her face, increasing her dishevelment.
Ange lifts her chin to sportingly present her face for flanning. Rosie delivers a good solid smush-’n’-twist to Ange’s face, then slides the flan over Ange’s head. The pastel pink presents a striking contrast against the woman’s black hair and referee shirt.
Liv slams the pie hard into Liv’s face, and copying Rosie she pushes it upwards to complete the coverage of Sayeeda’s smart, shoulder-length hair. The cream plops down onto Sayeeda’s referee shirt and also catches her thick, light-brown thighs. Sayeeda gapes from her newly blue-coated face.
Caption: Zookeeper Edition
Joanna hunches her shoulders and puts her hands over her face. Grace launches her pie, Joanna twists so that the mound of cream ploughs into the side of her head. She takes her hands away from her face, still completely clean. Splat! Natalie has snuck up behind the line-up with another pastel-pink pie, which she deftly slips over Joanna’s head in a two-handed hold.
Rob slams the pie into Naomi’s puckering face. A few flecks splatter onto neighbouring Laura and Rob himself. He rubs the pie around like a flannel, making sure Naomi’s platinum-blonde hair gets nicely ruined. He slaps the creamy remnants onto her exposed navel. Naomi spits out a glob of cream.
Heather puffs out her chest and lifts her chin to take the flan, her grin growing broader. The pie smothers Heather’s face and fills her unruly curls. When the tin is taken away, the front of Heather’s head is one big round disc of gooey pink cream. Her mouth begins to laugh.
Caption: Natalie’s Schoolmate Edition
Nell tilts her lollipop to aside. Roanna’s flanning action is regimented and precise: a firm and well-centred splat in the face, A 90° twist clockwise, then 180° anticlockwise, finished with a classic pushback. A large cream beard dangles from Nell’s chin as her mouth opens in shock.
April brings her pie vertically down onto Akua’s crown, smothering her afro curls in a thick layer of cream and causing more to plop onto the shoulder pads of her blazer. April to slide the tin downwards, in a reversal of the usual manoeuvre. The pink-headed Akua breaks into shocked laughter.
Roanna executes another precise, clinical and very thorough flanning. Sinead’s bright-orange bob turn to a pair of foamy blue curtains, and her face is well and truly masked. She blows out a patch of cream, then makes a show of sticking a finger in each nostril to snort out through the other.
Ashley’s eyes close and her mouth curls in a groan, before April slams the flan. Pastel-pink showers Ashley’s blazer, shirt and bare legs, and Ashley is forced to take a step back. April launches a second attack focussed on Ashley’s hair, even smearing some into her ponytail.
A Melissa’s face and the front part of her hair buried under a disc of shaving cream. The edges of the disc fall onto her blazer and tight-clad legs. Melissa splutters through the cream. Her swooping fringe has gone over her eyes, increasing her disarray.
Caption: Naturist Edition
Growling, Maria jerks her head aside, but Georgia doesn’t let the Latin diva get away. Maria’s whirling ponytail gets sandwiched between face and flan, increasing her dishevelment. She splutters, her face a mass of blue cream and buried hair. Cream begins to plop down onto her body.
The pie slaps on target. Fiona’s face is masked with the pink goo. The upper and side fringes of pie stick to Fiona’s voluminous hairstyle, forming a generous halo, while excess cream drops down, landing onto Fiona’s big boobs, visible through the frosted perspex.
Instinctively, Rebecca tries to pocket her glasses, then realises that isn’t possible, Georgia puts her left hand on the back of Rebecca’s head while firmly smushing with her right. As she screws the pie around, bit of cream drop onto Rebecca’s nude body, causing the woman to wriggle.
Lucy again cups her boobs from underneath and pushes them upwards. Prisha’s lip turns up in prudish disdain, but she hits all three targets, with the top of the flan driving into Lucy’s face, while the bottom smashes her tits. Lucy rubs the cream over herself.
The petite, older Chinese lady hunches her shoulders further, clamps shut her eyes, and squeaks before the pile of blue gunk ploughs into her features. Georgia slides the flan sideways, filling Xia’s ear, arcs over the top of the head, then drops the remnants down Xia’s bare back.
Georgia pounces, extending her arms in a V-shape. Her flans slam Lauren and Georgia simultaneously, transforming their faces into discs of blue goo. Lauren’s multicoloured fringe gets swept back with the gunk, while Alexandra’s maidenesque hairdo also gets covered. Their bodies also get caught up in the resulting explosion of cream; Lauren’s chests gets splattered, while the frosted perspex shows that a large blue lump has lodged itself in Alexandra’s hairy hinterland.
Clara: Ladies, please reveal yourselves. Are you frauds or are you for real?
Ashley: I’m a fraud!
Evie: [grinning in good humour] Fraud!
Ballroom Meghan: [pulls of her name badge with a flounce] Fraud!
Faye: [flamboyantly] I’m a fraud!
Rebecca: I’m a cheap fraud!
Patricia: Fraud, of course!
Lynzey: [still attempting to extricate the pie from the back of her swimsuit] Fraud!
Courtney: Big aussie fraud!
Kaz: Fraud! Bang to rights.
Heather: [chuckling as she peels off the outer layer of her name badge] You got me! I’m a fraud!
Nisha: [still trying to extract cream from her hair] Fraud.
Judy: [between giggles] Fraud!
Naomi: Fraud! Meow!
Valentina: [pulls off her badge] I am frrraud!
Nell: I’m also a fraud!
Fred: [proudly wearing the folded pie tin over her mohawk] Big fat fraud!
Natalie: Maria…?
The latina simply stands with her arms folded, continuing to sulk, so Clara steps forward and pulls away the name tag.
Clara: She’s a fraud.
Royal Engagement Megan: Fraud! Damn that spelling mistake!
Yvonne: [smiling for the first time as she pulls off her name badge] Fraud! And I worked so hard on my image, too.
Giulia: [Laughing as she pulls off her badge] Zis is such a crazy; I am ’ere only for ’olidays!
Lucy: [rips off her name label and throws it back with both arms] Fraud! I’m not a naturist, but I think I might become one – woohoo!! [Wiggles]
Soo-Jin: [raising a double thumbs-up, proudly wearing her pie tin hat] Super awesome fraud!
Bernadette: [smiling wryly through her pink-smeared face] For real. I’m never going to live this down in my library!
Xia: For real. My husband’s for real, too!
Ange: For real! Quick-witted is exactly what a ref needs to be!
Joanna: [looking relieved that the game is over] I’m for real! I’m less nervous around birds than people!
Alexandra: For real! They come a lot more ‘wacky’ than me in academia these days!
Melissa, still blinded and mute with cream, fumbles at her lapel, trying to locate her name badge. Sinead steps over to help her.
Sinead: [pulls away Melissa’s badge] She’s for real! [Pulls away her own] And so am I.
Irene: I’m for real! Nuclear physics is physics, damn it!
Kayleigh: Ye call me over the top, but ah’m totally for real!
Papparazi Beach Meghan: I may be a bit on the short side but people tend not to notice.
Jenny: [Crossly yanking off her badge] And I’ll have you know I’m a full inch taller than regulation minimum height!
Hannah: [jabs a creamy finger] If you end up in the sludge don’t call on me to rescue you!
Zahra: [spitting away cream] I am for real! You will all find out that Iran is for real!
Chloe: Woohh! Quite a bombshell there!
Natalie: That is one fraudulent line-up.
Clara: And there you have it – truth can be stranger than fiction!
Natalie: More frauds than an investment bank!
Clara: Liv, you’re looking happy, and with good reason. Three flannings, all correct, gives you a spectacular windfall of 15 points!
Sitting in their armchairs, Liv wears a huge grin, while Rosie slowly shakes her head.
Natalie: Kate, you flanned twice, got it wrong twice. That gives you.. wait for it… minus 6 points, ha-ha!!
At this point Kate has her head in her hands.
Natalie: This is costing us a grand! … Come over here and collect the cash!
Clara: And as for you lot… all you get is your coating of flan, and of course these stylish Grudge-2-Sludge towel and toiletry packs! [Poses with one of the iconic box-sets]
Natalie: Shall we show these ladies to the showers?
Right on cue, the heavens open above the unfortunate five air stewardesses, drenching them in a huge downpour of water.
Natalie: Now that was a splash landing!
A veritable monsoon is dumped on the five screaming librarians (even Fred is shaken from her cool composure), turning their cardigans dark and heavy, their white blouses see-through, and their hair a bedraggled, cream-streaked mess.
The flan-covered lifeguards groan as they realise what this means. A second later, a small lagoon of cold water is dumped on them from above, washing off about half of the cream, but also causing them to scream and spasm.
Kaz and Fay take a bow, while Nicola and Giulia wave and smile. Jenny continues to frown with her arms folded.
Natalie: A couple of people have complained that there isn’t enough shampoo.
Clara: Really? Oh, we can soon fix that.
As Clara finishes speaking, four torrents of translucent green slime fall from the ceiling, carefully aimed at the four postwomen’s heads. The women scream as the slime further ruins their hair and soaks their t-shirts, mixing with the shaving cream.
Clara: If I order a hundred gallons of Venia moisturiser for use on the show, that has to go through the proper procurement channels.
Natalie: Sheesh! That’s a lot of moisturiser, what do you need all that…
While Natalie is speaking, five opaque white columns descend from above onto the flanned Meghan lookalikes. Much screaming ensues, especially from Paparazzi Beach Meghan, who has nothing to shield her bare skin. The hair and shoulders of the five women are completely blanketed in the thick, white ‘moisturiser’.
Clara: It has come to my attention that the flans you are wearing are contaminated with sludgium 147! Therefore I must ask you to step into the decontamination chamber immediately!
All five nuclear engineers get inside the cubicle (it’s a tight fit). The lights around the studio dim to near darkness, while a UV light causes the pink and blue cream smeared over the women to glow brightly. Another thing that glows brightly is the green slime that showers from the top of the cubicle in multiple small jetlets. The woman squeal as their suits are soaked and their hair coated.
Natalie: Phew! Panic over!
Clara: Ange, Stella, Imogen, Courtney and Sayeeda – I’m afraid you get sweet FA! Actually, that’s not true; you do each pick up a Grudge-2-Sludge towel-and-toiletry pack with our compliments. Don’t forget to soap behind your ears!
Jets of white foams spray up from hidden nozzles in the floor, both behind and in front of the row of referees, whose screams quickly turn to splutters as they engulfed.
Clara: Woah, woah! No no! Stop!
The women twist and duck as the foamy barrage keeps coming.
Clara: [shouting backstage] Stop! Stop, I said!! Hey, STOP!! TURN IT OFF!!
Eventually the jets fizzle out, by which time the unfortunate five are completely white, from their shorts-clad legs right up to their heads.
Clara: [again directed backstage] Behind the ears, I said!
Clara: Let’s see what you make of the consolation prize – a special safari trip!
The zookeeping trio fit into a single row, with Heather on the left, Naomi on the right, and Joanna seated in the middle. The Jeep passes between two life-size plastic elephants, whose trunks angle inwards to blast jets of water at the occupants. The three women scream as they are soaked to the skin. Bundles of grass cuttings are chucked over them, causing further dishevelment, and then the Jeep comes to a stop, between the hind legs of a towering plastic giraffe.
Clara: Ummmm… I don’t think that’s a good place to park!
The giraffe’s tail lifts, and lumpy brown stuff drops out in irregular dollops. Heather raises her hands to welcome the falling ‘dung’ with a cackle of laughter. Joanna ducks with her hands over her head, while Naomi tries to lean out of the jeep, to little avail as she gets splattered all the same.
Clara: Thanks all for taking part, and thanks also to those clowns who turned up to be part of the ruse on Nat. In fact, why don’t we bring those clowns back on?
The clowns duly spring onto the stage brandishing various messy weapons, and surround the ‘schoogirls’ and others. Ashley and Nell get pelted with additional flans (the same size and style as those used in the game, but pure white), while Sinead and Melissa are drenched with buckets of slosh. Akua has a bowler hat filled with sloppy cream (which spurts comedically though a hole in the top) plonked on her head.
Natalie: I think it’s only fair we cover these ladies up, Clara.
Clara: [smirking] Couldn’t agree more, Nat.
A siren rings out. The seven women, knowing well the format of the show, duck and cover their heads, waiting for something to be dropped on them. But instead fountains erupt from the base of the cylinders, multiple nozzles firing up jets of gunge, forming a rainbow of colour (red for Rebecca, orange for Lauren, yellow for Alexandra, green for Fiona, blue for Xia, indigo for Maria, and violet for Lucy). A cacophony of screams and cackling laughter sound from the women as they are blasted from below.
Natalie: Sounds like that hit the spot! Let’s have a round of applause!
Clara: Thanks for playing and being great sports!
The audience warmly applauds the sopping and cream-streaked women. Kaz and Fay take a bow, while Nicola and Giulia wave and smile. Jenny continues to frown with her arms folded. The five then turn and file off-stage. Rhiannon and Linda follow, smugly clutching their envelopes.
The audience cheers while a second batch of ‘poo’ falls on the unlucky zookeepers. Then the Jeep resumes motion and carries them away behind the back wall.
Fred removes her sodden cardigan and tosses it into the audience.
The foamy referees make gestures towards Natalie and Clara and wave to the audience, leaving white footprints as they troop towards the exit. Cerys and Danielle follow behind, smug and clean.
The five stoogettes slip, squelch, flap and flick their way off their stage, while the clowns continue to harrass them with silly string. Sinead and Ashley T follow cleanly behind.
Sure enough, a couple of police officers are waiting at the door for Zahra. They put handcuffs on the pied and slimed woman and roughly lead her away.
Stuart steps on the set, brandishing his magic wand. He gives this a wave and the seven women disappear, leaving behind the empty cylinders. He takes a bow.
Back in the studio, the clapping continues.
Stuart: Great participants, fabulous flans. What an excellent run the game has had! But now it’s time for the quizmistresses to become the quizzed! Natalie and Clara, it’s plain to see you enjoyed officiating those contests, but now it falls to you to scratch your heads and agonise over your options, as you gamble for big points!
Stephanie: Ooh yes, matches have been won and lost on those armchairs; could it be so tonight? However, after watching that video you might already be feeling a bit flanned out, so tonight’s game will have a slightly shortened format. Instead of seven solo participants, we have five pairs!
Stuart: Yes, tonight’s line-up features people who applied to settle their differences on Grudge-2-Sludge! They made it as far as an interview with our researchers, and we’d have loved for them to bring their beef to one of our episodes!
Stephanie: But alas, due to sludgetary restrictions, it was not to be!
Stuart: But as a magician I well know, not all is as it seems. For lurking in our line-up is at least one pair whose barney is baloney, whose falling out is fully fictitious!
Stephanie: Natalie and Clara, it is of course your task to find those frauds… and flan them!
Stephanie gestures the tables in front of the two contestants, loaded with bumper batches of the pastel pink and blue 18-inch mounds.
Stuart: So let’s take a look at our line-up shall we?
Starting at the left-hand end of the row, the camera visits each pair in turn, who as always are equipped with name badges…
![Belinda and Karen]()
Belinda is wearing a black one-piece swimsuit. Karen is wearing a light-grey hoodie and joggers.
![Mel and Daphne]()
Mel’s getup consists of a punk t-shirt and ripped jeans. Daphne’s attire comprises a tidy shirt, jumper and tartan skirt.
![Lara and Tara]()
Lara and Tara are wearing dresses of slightly different styles; Lara’s is more revealing on the upper body but longer on the legs.
![Ali and Kat]()
Ali is wearing an asymmetric designer dress (and high heels boost her already very tall stature), while Kat sports a trouser suit.
![Jayne and Phil]()
Jayne (who is a large lady) wears a wide-necked pink top and a denim skirt. The smaller (and indeed shrinking) Phil has on a t-shirt, suede jacket and jeans.
Stephanie: Mmm, look like they’d make for some interesting episodes, ehh? To be crystal clear, Clara and Natalie, you are quizzing them and flanning them as pairs. All other rules are the same, and you know them by heart, so let’s step straight in!
Stuart: Clara, you have the lead, so you get to choose – first or second?
Clara: [strokes her chin] Ooh… I guess the magnanimous thing to do is give my opponent a fighting chance to catch up, especially when her idea of a brain teaser is the dot-to-dot puzzle on a pub’s children’s menu. But then again, it’s Nat, so I won’t! First please!
The water on Natalie’s body is quickly evaporating as she glowers at Clara.
Clara: [supremely] Good evening, ladies… and gentleman. Would you care to introduce yourselves? Let me know where you’re from, what your relationship is, etc…
The camera starts on Belinda and Karen.
Belinda: Evening, Clara. We’re from Belfast. I’m a competitive swimmer…
Karen: …And I’m an even more competitive coach.
The camera moves on to the next pair.
Mel: We live in Southampton – in the same street in fact. Daphne’s my next door neighbour, unfortunately.
Daphne: [icily] And sad to say, Mel is mine.
Lara and Tara: [speaking in near-perfect sync]
Hello everybody! We’re from Edinburgh and we’re twin sisters!
Hello everybody! We’re from Edinburgh and we’re twin sisters!
Stephanie: [to the crew] Can you fix the audio? Seems to be an echo on one of the mics.
Lara: [hisses to Tara] That was my line!
Ali: I’m a model and Kat is my agent.
Kat: Ali is based in Islington, whereas my office is in Woking.
The camera progresses to the final pair. Phil takes a breath, but Jayne steals it.
Jayne: We’re from Wallasey in Merseyside, me and Phil. We’ve been married… ooh, what is it… seven years – is that right, Phil?
Phil makes to correct Jayne, but she has already resumed speaking.
Jayne: Yes, that’s right, Phil. Seven years. Seven peaceful years. Plenty of peace… [glances disapprovingly at Phil] and a lot of quiet.
Stuart: Hmm, but could the peace be about to be shattered? Clara, what is your plan for those flans?
Clara’s demeanour is rather less cocky than at the start of the game. She sits pensively in her armchair, a finger in her mouth as she scans the line-up, realising her question hasn’t gleaned her much useful information.
Stephanie: Not as easy as it looks, is it, sis?
Clara: [to herself] Damn! I should have asked about their grudges!
Eventually Clara gets up. She makes a meal of lifting two flans from her table, balancing the tins on the outstretched underside of each arm. Then she decides that such a balancing act is likely to end badly for her, so returns one of the flans to the table and carries the other away two-handed. She remains indecisive as she approaches the line-up, heading towards the left before changing her mind and veering rightwards. She arrives in front of the model and her agent.
Clara: Well, the name combo rings alarm bells straight away. Ali, Kat – alley-cat. And speaking as a model myself, your colour coordination sucks! But not to worry – I hear pastel-blue is in!
Clara leaps, her flan outstretched above her, in a bid to reach the gazelle-like Ali’s face. She just makes it, connecting with Ali’s angular chin and masking the model’s face and the lower part of her hair. Plenty of cream smothers Ali’s shoulders and chest too, ruining what is evidently a very expensive dress. The impact knocks the pie tin out of Clara’s hands, and as she lands on her feet, the remnants falls onto her, splattering her hair.
Stuart: Woah, Clara! And the flanning isn’t so easy either!
Natalie is also tickled by Clara’s mishap. Clara crossly flicks a blob of cream off her face and goes to get a second flan.
Clara: Kat, I’ll do you the usual courtesy of letting you take your specs off, if you so wish.
But Kat decides the specs will stay on. The shorter woman straightens up to take her flan in a businesslike manner. It is a much easier target for Clara, who splats the flan dead-on centre in Kat’s face. A creamy blue disc envelopes the front of Kat’s head and her short bob haircut, which Clara further messes up by pushing the pie up onto Kat’s head.
Stephanie: Well there’s a Kat that got the cream! Nicely done, Clara, it has to be said. Natalie, now let’s have your question.
Natalie: [immediately] What’s your grudge? Ta, Clara! Ha ha!
Clara kicks herself at giving away the idea.
Belinda: I have a grudge against Karen because she makes me come to training at 5 in the morning, and she refuses to switch the pool heaters on!
Karen: And my grudge against Belinda is that she’s such a whinger, and whingers never win gold!
Mel: Well where do I start with Daphne? She’s such a fussy neighbour! If my bush pokes over the fence, even by an inch, she trims it!
Stuart: The mind boggles…
Daphne: Mel’s bush isn’t the only thing that comes over the fence; I also get bottles, cigarette ends, and above all, noise when she has one of her Saturday night parties!
Mel: Yeah, and then I get church music first thing on a Sunday when I’m trying to get some kip!
Stephanie: Okay, that’ll do. We don’t have time for the full list of grievances!
Lara and Tara:
Tara always tries to copy me!
Lara always tries to be different to me!
Stuart: We really need to get that audio sorted.
The camera passes by Ali and Kat, the former of whom is trying to look fashionable with her new clothing of flan, the latter of whom has removed her glasses and is wiping them on a clean patch of her suit.
Phil opens his mouth to speak.
Jayne: The grudge I have against Phil is that he doesn’t speak up for himself. In fact, he doesn’t speak at all! I honestly struggle to remember what his voice sounds like. When was the last time you said something, Phil? [Phil opens his mouth again…] It was “I do” at our wedding, I reckon! Now, I know that some men are quiet types and I don’t mind that, but I do find it hard-going having to think up the conversations all the time. I mean, Phil, do you have any ideas about things to talk about? I don’t care what it is; I’d happily listen to you all day. Go ahead and name your topic.
Phil’s eyes light up at the opportunity, but before he can proceed he is cut off again.
Jayne: Nothing! See, Natalie and Clara, this is the problem I have!
Stuart: We’re running very short on time. So Phil, if you could very briefly outline your grudge against Jayne…
Phil takes a step forward and clears his throat.
Jayne: And it’s not as if I’m a big-mouth myself! Oh, sorry Phil, were you going to say something?
Again Phil clears his throat. The klaxon blasts.
Stephanie: Sorry, we’re completely out of time. Natalie, you’ve a lot of experience of listening to grudges, so what do you make of the ones you’ve just heard?
Natalie shows none of the hesitation that Clara showed. Nor is she daunted by carrying two flans at once, balancing them on her arms while she potters over to the left-hand end of the line, specifically to the spot occupied by Belinda and Karen.
Natalie: It’s not a bad grudge idea – the sports softie and the cruel coach – but I take issue with something. Karen, you said that whingers never win gold. Well I believe the only way you get anywhere in life is by complaining – unless you’re Clara bleating to OfCom of course – and if you don’t believe in whinging then you wouldn’t be applying to Grudge-2-Sludge. Anyway, here’s something you’ll be familiar with as swimmers: it’s called the butterfly stroke!
And with that, Natalie swings her flan-bearing arms up and over, dispatching her foamy weapons into the faces of Belinda and Karen. She jumps back to avoid backsplatter as the pie tins clatter to the floor. Belinda squeals, her face and upper front completely ensconced in pastel pink, the cream dripping down her swimsuit. Karen also gasps, her face and hoodie covered and her ruffled blonde hair filled.
Stuart: Ho ho, and now they’ve both got something to whinge about! Clara, it’s back to you.
Clara: Aside from the opportunity to sludge their nemesis, another thing that lures – I mean, encourages people into applying for Grudge-2-Sludge is the promise of a fantastic prize. So, what prize would you want to receive if you played the game and won?
We are treated to another shot of swimmer and coach as they perform the post-flan ritual of wiping and griping, then the camera moves on to Mel and Daphne:
Daphne: Hmmm. I’d settle for Mel coming round to do some chores in my house and garden. It’d make up for the mess she’s made in the past.
Mel: [sourly] Well in that case Daphne can serve the booze at my parties!
Lara and Tara:
A year of free clothes and hairdressing.
A year of free clothes and hairdressing.
I go through so many styles trying to keep ahead of Tara!
I go through so many styles trying to keep up with Lara!
Rubbing his hands together as he imagines his dream prize, Phil prepare to share it with the world…
Jayne: Ooh, it’d have to be a cruise! The only question is where. Where do you reckon, Phil? Central America and the Caribbean – my thoughts exactly! All that chit-chat with other couples, not that they’d get much chit-chat from Phil, but he’d still enjoy himself sitting in the bar. He’s strictly a soft drinks man; you don’t like beer, do you Phil? [Phil tries in vain to protest this point]. Oh yes, a cruise it would be for Phil and me. Got anything to add, Phil? Nope. Well it’s back to you, Stuart and Stephanie.
Stephanie: Uh, thanks, Jayne. Tara, have you ever thought that if you really want to do the same as Lara, then you ought to try to be different like she does?
Stuart: But then Lara would have to try to be the same in order to be different!
Lara and Tara are presently united in confusion.
Stuart: Now there’s a conundrum! But right now the only conundrum is that facing Clara. What’s your next move?
Once again, Clara is far from certain. She stays in her armchair, pondering the participants, then after tortured deliberation, kicks back.
Clara: I’m done!
Stephanie: What do you mean?
Clara: I’m calling it quits. I’m declaring myself out!
Stephanie: No way!
Stuart: Borr-ing!!
A few boos from the audience back up Stuart’s sentiments.
Clara: Well I’m sorry, but my first priority is avoiding the sludge, not providing you with cheap, flan-based entertainment, and I’m not convinced that any of those left are frauds. Mel and Daphne, the bad-neighbour vibes between you are plain to see. Lara and Tara, there’s no doubting that you’re genuine identical twins, and while that doesn’t mean for sure that your grudge is real, it does increase the odds. Jayne and Phil… mmmm, I’m the least sure about you. Some would say you’re over the top, but I do know a few couples with a domineering wife and a browbeaten husband−
Jayne: Domineering!?! Phil, I’m sure you have something to say to that!
Stephanie: [as Phil tries to utter something] Quiet please! No more input from the participants at this point!
Clara: So yeah, I’m out!
Stuart: Well there you go, folks. Natalie, it falls to you for any further flanning. The choice is yours!
Natalie: Thanks for the tips, Clara! Always keen to show off how clever you are, but you don’t have any common sense!
Again Clara curses her loose mouth while Natalie gets to her feet.
Natalie: But I do disagree with you on one thing…
Natalie equips herself with a pie on each arm and approaches the line-up. The right-hand end is her unmistakable destination.
Natalie: So, Jayne and Phil. Like Clara, I’m in two minds, but what seals it is that you aren’t wearing a wedding ring, Phil. Now that could be a silent protest against your wife, but more likely it’s sloppy costuming…
Jayne: Uhh, Phil! You’ve let me down!
Natalie: …so prepare for a sloppy surprise!
Jayne: Oh-er!! Phil! Do something!
Natalie springs with her flans. Jayne grabs Phil either side of his slim shoulders, all but lifting the man off his feet, and holds him in front of her as a shield. Natalie’s pies clap him from either side, sandwiching his head.
Stephanie: Well for once she wanted Phil at the forefront!
Natalie: [cross] You’re not getting away with that!
Natalie hurries back to the table and selects another flan. Jayne tries to hide behind her flan-covered husband, but Natalie barges him aside.
Natalie: Out of the way, you daft bugger! Now here’s your cruise, lady!
Natalie slams the pie home into Jayne’s kisser, inciting a huge cheer from the audience. The pink cream shoots in every direction, filling Jayne’s volumised blonde hair and spraying down her prodigious plus-size figure. The tin sticks to her face, and she pulls it away to reveal her features encrusted.
BLAM!! A second flan, this time blue, smacks into Jayne’s face, recolouring everything in an instant. Amid the blanket of cream, Jayne’s eyes blink and her jaw drops in disbelief. The wielder of the second flan is none other than Phil.
Stephanie: And for once she is speechless!
The audience roars with approval. Phil, still caked in cream himself, takes a bow, albeit wordless as ever.
Stephanie: And before we get too carried away… Natalie, you still have the option to flan either or both of the other pairs. Would you like to take it?
Natalie: [reseating herself] No, that’s me done.
Stephanie: Right then. It’s the moment of truth. Drum roll please…
Belinda and Karen rip off their name badges.
Belinda: We’re for real!
Natalie: Bollocks.
The camera moves on to the still-clean Mel and Daphne.
Mel: I’m for real!
Daphne: Yes, sadly, she’s very much for real.
Lara and Tara:
We’re for real!
We’re for real!
Stephanie: [muttering] Really will have to have words about the audio.
Kat: Ali and I for real!
Clara tuts.
Phil: [Wipes away from the cream from his face, revealing a strangely familiar visage] Fraud!!
Natalie: Stuart??
Everyone looks round in confusion. To their amazement, the man standing in top hat and tails, who has taken a low profile over the last minute or so, is Phil.
Stephanie: Wow! Even I didn’t know that was going to happen! What a great trick!
The audience slowly break into applause as the switch dawns on them.
Stuart: [continuing to wipe away cream] Phil is in fact my cousin, and Jayne is a lovely lady from the audience, who played her part brilliantly with such short notice. And a great sport she is too!
Stephanie: As indeed are the rest of our participants. Sorry you didn’t get a place to settle your grudges on the show. I hope you that you can work things out without our help, but hey, if you can’t, we’ll happily consider your applications again if and when there’s a second series!
Stuart: Now, normally we’d only give the £250 prize to those who stayed clean, but as it’s the last show we’ll give all of you the cash! You as well, Jayne!
Stephanie: Plus of course towel and toiletry packs for those who need them! Let’s hear it for our line-up!
The audience applauds.
Stuart: But on to serious stuff: how did Natalie and Clara do? We’re counting each pair as a single flanning, so Natalie, you get 5 points for flanning Jayne and Phil, but the incorrect flanning of Belinda and Karen brings you down to 2 points.
Natalie: Hey, it’s better than nothing.
Stephanie: Indeed, and it’s better still than a negative score, eh Clara?
Clara: [sullen] Yep.
Stephanie: Because that wrongful flanning of Ali and Kat means you pick up a not-so-bountiful score of minus 3!
Natalie: Heh heh heh! I’ll send you my book of children’s dot-to-dots, shall I, Clara?
Stuart: So let’s catch up on those overall scores…!
![Natalie 15, Clara 13]()
Cheers from Natalie, while Clara sucks her cheeks in bitterly.
Stephanie: Woo! It’s almost a perfect swapover of points!
Stuart: Not so good for Clara, but still very close. Anything can happen in the final round, and indeed in the audience vote, which remember, won’t be released until the very end!
Stephanie: But before we go to the ad break, it’s time for another audience poll. [Picks up a blue pie. Stuart grabs himself a pink pie]. Our queens of the flans have enjoyed watching these foamy forfeits being doled out week after week… [Moves closer to Clara] Is it time they tasted their own medicine?
Audience: YYYEEESSSS!!!
Stuart: I don’t think it’s worth asking for the ‘no’s.
Natalie: [frowning] Who are the queens of the flans?
Clara: [gulps] I think it’s us, Nat.
Natalie: Oh my god! I’m outta here!
Natalie tries to stand up, but Stuart presses down her leg. Stephanie likewise makes it impossible for Clara to escape.
Clara: Now look, this isn’t part of the game! We didn’t agree to this!
Stephanie: You agreed to agree to whatever Stuart and I decide!
The flans are now in position right beneath the girls’ chins.
Stuart: That’s it, have a sniff!
Natalie: Stuart, if you go ahead with this it could have serious consequences for our relationship…
Stephanie: Let’s have a big countdown! Five!
Stuart, Stephanie, participants and audience: FOUR!! THREE!!
Natalie: Stuart I’m warning you!
Stuart, Stephanie, participants and audience: TWO!! ONE!! FLAN THEM!!!
Stuart and Stephanie lift their flan tins in a powerful two-hand smash and bury the faces of their victims. Natalie and Clara squirm as large amounts of cream plop down their all-but-bare torsos into their laps. The tins are removed to reveal two colourful, masked, unrecognisable spluttering faces. Stuart proceeds to rub his pie like a flannel around Natalie’s head and through her hair. Meanwhile Stephanie pushes her flan onto the top of Clara’s head, burying Clara’s hair under a thick mound of cream before she furnishes the tin into a silly hat. Natalie screams amid the mess. Clara expels a lump of shaving cream from her mouth, together with a tongue that expresses displeasure at the taste.
But it’s far from over for the twosome. The game’s participants pick up pies from the tables and pile in. Natalie has two flans slapped into her boobs, while Clara is lifted from her seat and a pie slid under her bottom, into which she is reseated. Pie sandwiches follow, and then the participants crowd round and pelt the pair indiscriminately, Tiswas style, while trolleys are wheeled in with further ammunition.
The anarchy continues in the background while Stuart and Stephanie address the camera.
Stuart: Wow! Flantastic stuff!!
Stephanie: Yep, but the best is yet to come! These two may be messy but it’s nothing compared to what one of them will face at the Sludge Sling! Just who is it going to be? I can’t wait!
Stuart: But you’re going to have to, as we go to the ads!
Belinda is wearing a black one-piece swimsuit. Karen is wearing a light-grey hoodie and joggers.
Mel’s getup consists of a punk t-shirt and ripped jeans. Daphne’s attire comprises a tidy shirt, jumper and tartan skirt.
Lara and Tara are wearing dresses of slightly different styles; Lara’s is more revealing on the upper body but longer on the legs.
Ali is wearing an asymmetric designer dress (and high heels boost her already very tall stature), while Kat sports a trouser suit.
Jayne (who is a large lady) wears a wide-necked pink top and a denim skirt. The smaller (and indeed shrinking) Phil has on a t-shirt, suede jacket and jeans.
