1- A cenote Trash The Dress in Mexico by Pierre Visual Studio

In a cave in the middle of the Yucantan jungle, using sunrays to shape bodies.

2- Underwater Dream in a Pool by Rafal Makiela

Disclaimer: 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.

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.

 —

Just a quick note to say hello!

NGYOB is back, but this first one is a non-vote, story-cross idea that came from TellyGunge. The next episode will be in a couple of weeks all being well, and will be back to a celebrity vote!

I want to say a quick thank you though, to TellyGunge and MovieBuff801 who let me use both of their female characters for this story, from, “Oh Emma!”, and “Worst Weekend”, both of which being among my favourite story series on here – give them a read!

Very quickly, if you have any suggestions, anything from contestants to games, I would love to hear them, especially seeing as the new series will be starting properly soon. In fact, you can even suggest a civilian non-vote one like this one if you want, just give me a name and a reason!

Anyway, enough of my babbling, please enjoy! -MsM

—-

The famous music from one of the BBC’s most recognised of kids television show rang through the studio, the audience going mad. Smoke filled the yellow and blue looking floor. As the music continued, a camera panned quickly around the refurbished set, taking in the blue and yellow colours as well as the brand spanking new logo painted onto the floor, made up of a circle and showing off the famous title, “Get Your Own Back”. The set itself had gone from it’s 2003 era look, a small studio, to a much larger one. They could see everything and it was vast, to each side there was a steel door and a large curtain along the back, which had projections all across and was supposedly there for decoration. It panned back to one of the huge steel looking doors which lifted up, and standing there, nodding his head with a tough look on his face was Mr. Dave Benson Phillips. He came swaggering out, nodding his head and folding his arms, standing in the middle of the studio with his arms folded, appealing to look ‘cool’.

“Yeeeessssss! Yes! Yes! Come on louder, LOUDER EVERYBODY!”

Dave was in his element. The last series had ended on a complete high. The Comic Relief special had been all over television and the internet for months, famously playing out Holly Willoughby’s complete humiliation. Dave himself had been snapped up for a number of small television roles and interviews, as the show was dubbed for ‘bringing back the 90s with style’. For the second series, the director and producers and full crew, and even Dave himself had busily refurbished aspects of the show, the new logo being one of those things, and had gone through the old archives to find out what was popular and what wasn’t. They also tried to think of new ways to be interactive and get the ratings higher. And for this first episode, Dave himself had requested it to be a sort of special for old time fans. He even said it was ‘a debt to be settled.’

“Hello there! Hello! Welcome, welcome to this, the messiest, yuckiest and the most amazing show on your telly box! It’s Get Your Own Back! Yes, the audience love it, I love it, and I’m sure you will love it. In fact everyone loves it already – well apart from a few ladies, and especially Holly Willoughby, wa-hey! Right now this being a new series we have freshened up one or two things just for you, we have a new logo everybody! … New games! … and, a brand new spanking gunge everyone, yes! … But the one thing that hasn’t changed is the basic format, this show is always about getting those grownups who annoy you oh so much, and throwing them into a big tank full of very vile gunge!”

The audience cheered heavily at this, as was expected from kids. Dave allowed a moment of thunderous applause from the audience. Dave smiled and laughed a little, he had missed this whilst the show was off the air.

“Now, for this brand new episode we decided to address one particular form of gruesome grownup. Back in the golden days, when the gunge tank had been freshly filled, we had a fair few babysitters on the show, and they were the meanest and unfairest bunch – but they always escaped clean! These days not many people have babysitter, but there is one or two around still, and so this is a special episode focusing two of the worst of them!”

The young audience once again cheered, apparently in agreement at this.

“So will you please welcome, for the yellow team, 9 year old Cory and please be bias against his babysitter Olivia!”

There were sudden bouts of giggling and eventually the whole audience was roaring with laughter. A young boy came in to the left, walking slowly across the large floor to Dave, but what was raising the laughter was what he was pushing. Sat in a colourful and made up wheelchair, with yellow ropes around her hands and soft looking bare knees, was a young woman of 23. Cory stopped when he got to Dave, turning around Olivia, who was tied to the chair, and also gagged with a cloth.

“And for the blue team, please give a huge welcome to 10 year old Michael, and a big boo to his babysitter, Emma!”

More laughter raised the roof, as in from the right, Michael came in pushing a similar looking wheelchair, and sitting in it was 21 year old Emma, who was also tied and gagged. He came to a stop, turning Emma to face the audience.

“Haha, wow! My goodness! You see kids we used to have cages years and years back ,but we felt the adults on this new series deserved to be brought in in a nastier fashion! Right then, lets get straight down to it. Cory, welcome to the show, who is this and why do you want to get your own back on her?”

“Well Dave, this is obviously my babysitter. Her name is Olivia. Sometimes me and my sister just like have a little fun, but she always gets way too annoyed, like seriously, way over-reactive like a big baby. I think someone this sloppy needs to go down into something very sloppy.”

“Ah – ohhh nice rhyming work there! Best watch myself or you will be after my job! Olivia what do you have to say to that?”

Dave looked at Olivia, who had quickly been freed by Cory. She stood up, her light brown hair fluttering slightly as she raised out of the chair, and falling down so it brushed just her shoulders, and going no lower. She wore shorts, showing off smooth, ever so slightly tanned legs, and her yellow GYOB top fitted perfectly, not too baggy, not too tight, nevertheless showing a nice round chest. She didn’t go all out on makeup, but she had added a touch of foundation, just to bring a slight bit of attention to her pretty face. She looked at Dave with a sense of pleading.

“I do not go over the top with my reactions! Dave this little rascal CONSTANTLY torments me. He is the one in the wrong!”

Dave chuckled at this and put his hand on her shoulder kindly, faking commiseration.

“Olivia, anyone over the age of 20, bar me and the staff, is in the wrong here, not the kids!”

There was a cheer and a laugh at this, and Olivia turned to Cory. She had been babysitting him and his sister Ruby for two years now. Both had tormented her, but in learning of being on TV she agreed to come on the show. Plus in some ways she wanted a little bit of fun. But mostly the reason for appearing was a chance to maybe get back at Cory if there was games that allowed it. She was dismayed when the producer, much like Dave a second ago, had laughed and said that the adults were always the ones who got messy, not the kids.

“Right! Michael, who is this and why is she here?”

“This is my babysitter Emma. She is mad over heels about a boy names Craig. Whenever me and my sister are not spending time with her, she is always checking her appearance  doing her makeup, or longing for him. It’s yucky Dave! Yucky! So she should wind up in something yucky too. A date with the gunge! Not Craig!”

This made Dave genuinely chuckle as he imagined Michael looking grumpy and following whilst Emma chased her crush around town.

“Emma! Explain yourself!”

Michael had also quickly let Emma free, and as she stood up, her brown her dropped down past her shoulders a few inches. It was darker to Olivia’s light brown her, but looked just as soft to touch. Emma also wore shorts, which hugged her long, slender legs. In contrast to Olivia, her blue GYOB top was a little more tight fitting and showed off a rounded large bust. She had actually opted to wear a tiny bit of makeup, putting a bit of blush into her cheeks, and around her slightly large nose, and giving herself the lightest of red lipsticks, so all in all she kept it controlled but noticeable. She was on television after all. She gave a big smile, deciding to put out her stereotypical status.

“I don’t do any of that at all. He is just a friend. I do love Michael though, and he isn’t a complete tearaway, just likes the odd prank. But I’m not as bad as he makes out!”

Dave tried not to laugh at this either, seeing past the lies.

“Well if you say so Emma!”

That was hard. Emma of course wasn’t a huge fan of Michael at all. She had gotten used to him now after a couple of years, but he and his sister were complete brats in all honesty still. The whole fact she was on here accused of liking Craig made her blood boil, seeing as the little gits always humiliated her, and he was usually around to see it. Now he would have more cause to snigger next time she saw him. But still, she had prettied up a little and maybe he would like how she looked…

“Right, well let me refresh everyones memories on how this works. We will soon begin a series of games, and both of our contestants here will try to get as many points as they can, whilst our two babysitters here will try to stop that from happening.”

Dave had started to back up slightly raising suspicions. Emma instinctively ducked her head a little, raising some chuckles, whilst Olivia just watches and frowned. Dave had been excited to get to this part, as he knew it would change perspective and fuel intense play. It was a heavily guarded secret and he was looking forward to the reaction.

“Olivia, Emma, you both have to try hard to stop these points from building up. Why? Because of course both of them will be in the running to have the worst of fates. Over the years it has changed and changed, and this time, it is bigger, badder and more vile than ever before. What am I on about? Well of course the child with the most points later will have a chance to get their adult closer to THIS!”

With that, a large bang like a firework went off, the studio lights flashed, and all of a sudden the big curtain with the projections at the back fell away safely to the ground. Dave opened his arms and walked toward what everyone was now gasping at, cheering at, clapping at.

“HERE, IT IS – THE NEW AND IMPROVED GET YOUR OWN BACK GUNGE!”

The gunk dunk had had the largest overhaul of the whole refurbishment. The studio was made bigger due to the producers and Dave deciding the famous punishment should go back to shadowing the whole games, hopefully inciting mild fear and more entertaining reactions throughout the show. As Dave walked toward it, the smoke cleared to be able to see it more. The tank itself was larger, now extending outward a little more, and was also much more wider. The walls were lower, only about a meter in height or so, because the tank itself was built down into the floor. This meant it was still deep, but the audience could now see it better due to the walls not being too high. Of course there would be some splash over the sides, but this was prepared for. The twin ramps were not as diagonal as they once were, still slightly angled but facing more forward toward the audience and cameras, both with the usual podiums on either side and Daves podium in between.

The ramps themselves had been modified slightly, making the 5th notch now more menacing – it levelled out at the top and went back a meter and a half or so. This would mean that come the dunk, it would move slowly toward the edge like a roller-coaster, before reaching the edge and flying down the ramp, meaning more reaction would come of the adult as they are tortured with humiliation slightly even before they went fully down. There was also a nozzel toward both sides of each chair at the bottom, giving a good coating before the dunk itself, and would also continue to spray down into the gunge after it. The whole thing had been Daves idea from the ground up, and more was planned but would be revealed in the Gunk Dunk round itself.

“Look at this! My wonderful and incredible design! Hahaha! Olivia, Emma joing me here…come on, come on….both of you will today be aiming to avoid this muck behind me, and this is a brilliant new design for the new series!”

Olivia looked past Dave and into the tank, Emma too. Neither of them, nor Corey and Michael, and even Dave until it was finally completed, had seen the gunk dunk. Of course Dave had known what it would look like, but this was the first time her saw it. The gunge inside the tank bubbled thickly, and the girls both grimaced at it. It was back to its former glory, even thicker and nastier than the series before. It was very blotchy, red and blue and yellow being the most prominent colours. The surface was congealing and reminded Olivia of when milk had been left too long and went thick on the top, and Emma couldn’t help but wave her hand in front of her face a little bit, the stench of the stuff wafting upward. There were a couple or so large, football sized lumps of gunge bobbing on the surface – a new idea from the producers. It also had some form of writing in too.

And to both girls, it really was.

“Let the games, BEGIN! HAHAHAHAHA!”

– Round 1: “Goo Goo Go” –

The camera panned down from looking in the short distance toward the brand new Gunk Dunk set which was baking under the studio lights, and came to show Dave who was standing on a large rectangular inflatable, set diagonally across the floor. To the right and slightly ahead of him, both Cory and Michael were bouncing lightly, wearing small helmets, and two the left of him and slightly behind him, two inflatable thrones were positioned. In the chairs, both Olivia and Emma were sat relaxed looking, holding a bucket and a ladle like thing each. Both were barefooted, Olivia had her nails painted pink and was kicking them slightly in front of her, whilst Emma just dangled hers as she relaxed backward, her nails painted a light pink.

“Brand new series, brand new game! Oh yes! This is ‘Goo Goo GO’, and as you can see we have a course set out here. Both Cory and Michael need to run past…through past these two chairs and their babysitters…blimy this running….ah, pick up one of these coins…back again, oop, excuse me ladies….back through the babysitters, and toss their gold coin into these large dump boxes here. Now, if we all look above us…there are two large canons on hoses, dangling above, pointing in the direction of our two grownups. With each coin they get, it dangles lower and eventually, the first child to get all 6 coins, gets to take a hold of the then activated cannon, and aim it squarely in front of them at their babysitter, and give them a right messy 10 seconds gunging! But of course it won’t be too easy, both Olivia and Emma have gunge buckets there, and will be chucking that gunge onto the floor around them, hoping for their counterparts to slip, which they most likely will, but they’re wearing safety gear and so should be ok. Girls, I’m sure you can hear the Gunk Dunk bubbling away all the way back there so best throw that gunge all around to lower your chances of going in! Three, two one – GO GO GOO!”

Dave quickly ran off the scene as both Cory and Michael ran off and between the ladies. Straight away, Cory got a bit of coverage as Olivia burst out laughing, having thrown it directly at him. Michael managed to avoid it though and ran through slightly ahead to get his first coin, Cory not too far behind and doing the same. Emma had thrown a lot of gunge onto the floor and suddenly Michael was sent sliding through between the two girls, causing Emma to go into a fit of giggles. It half helped him though as he had increased the distance between him and Cory slightly, and he dropped his coin into the box, the cannon above lowering a little. Cory’s also did, and started back as Michael got to his feet and ran too.

“Brand new game here at get your own back, and it’s a messy one. And blimey, the kids are a bit messy already, and Michael’s already gone sliding, both though have their first coins.”

Cory again got splashed by some blue gunge, the colours of the gunge of course reversed to the opposite team, and Michael too got a splash. He slipped slightly but regained balance and picked up a coin from the box just a second after Cory did. Both boys ran perfectly through the chairs and babysitters this time, both dropping their second coin in and the cannons lowering down a little more. Emma had stopped laughing now, and threw a fair bit of goo down in between the chairs, some of it splashing on Olivia a little who squealed and stopped throwing her own. Emma paid no attention and continued to thrash the gunge out, and cheered slightly as Michael once again slipped past her due to it, and Cory too staggered. Emma laughed at her success but suddenly screamed – Olivia had thrown a large portion of blue gunge at her in retaliation for being splashed a moment before, and Emma seethed but nonetheless smiled slightly at the situation. She threw some back, Olivia again squealing and a look of “Oh you did not” on her face, but half laughing.

“Oh my goodne – what on earth are those two girls doing? Blimey they must not be that bothered about the Gunk Dunk if they would rather gunge each other and not make it harder for the boys!”

Both girls however were sending a fair amount of goo onto the course, but whilst this had been going on, Michael and Cory had both delivered their third coins, and where just picking up their fourth each. Both staggered as they ran back through, with Cory getting a splash of gunge from Olivia who was aiming for Emma. She suddenly remembered about Cory getting coins and began throwing gunge down, but as she did, it was Michael who slipped on the gunge she had thrown, having just put his fourth coin into the dump box. Cory ran through, sticking his tongue out at Olivia and darting ahead.

“Oh no! She’s only gone and helped Emma by accident there! Cory is now ahead!”

Cory picked up his fifth coin and ran back through without hinderance, even though getting splashed by Olivia again, but Michael had only just picked his coin up. Cory delivered it into the box and the cannon fell down a slight bit more. He this time tried to run faster but slipped, as Olivia cried out in happiness, oblivious that she had helped Cory slide all the way to the box where he got up right away and picked up his last coin. Michael ran right past both Emma and her and she looked toward Emma in premature victory, shouting a little bit, “enjoy the gunge!” Someone ran past and she laughed happily.

“Oh and here we go, Cory is coming through now with his last coin there -”

Olivia’s eyes suddenly widened and she stopped smiling, processing what she heard, having thought it was Michael who ran through a second before. Cory dropped his coin in, and the cannons light blinked on, and lowered to his level. He grasped it and quickly aimed.

“And Olivia is going to get very messy, let’s watch it!!!!”

Olivia looked round, still wide eyed and in disbelief, but as soon as she saw him, her world went dark and cold. Cory cheered as the cannon blasted a huge thick stream of blue at his babysitter, the gunge exploding across her face, and completley covering her upper body. Her legs kicked wildly as she thrashed around, and Cory laughed, aiming the hose downward toward her legs. As it covered them she slowly stopped kicking and brought her hands to her face, globs of blue dripping from them. Cory quickly aimed it right back up at her face once more, but this time it caught her hands. She shook her head  as he kept the stream there, but it finally started to die down and stop. The audience, and him, cheered like mad as Olivia brought her hands away and spat out blue, her face scrunched up. As Dave came running on she was wiping her face clean, in utter disbelief.

“Woaahhhhh! Woaahhhhhh! Well done there Cory, my my you certainly painted her really blue and all there didn’t you!”

Olivia gave Dave a sour look as she continued to wipe down. Ugh, what the hell, this stuff is horrible, and sticky…god. She slicked her hair back, which was full of blue and matted. She seethed, not knowing how long it would take to clean, and knowing that it might get messy again later.

“Well done there Cory you get her nice and messy, and you also bagged yourself a full 60 points! Michael, you only managed the 5 coins there and so 50 points, but good score anyway, well done!”

Both cheered and the audience with them, as Olivia continued to wipe her face, trying to get as much of the gunge off as she could. Emma cheered too, enjoying watching Olivia get messy, due to getting a huge splash from her earlier. Dave spoke again to the audience and the teams.

“Ok so after that first game, Michael has 50 points but in the lead slightly of course is Cory with 60 points!”

– Round 2: “Slime Wall” –

The titles faded out to reveal Dave standing in the middle of a familiar looking blue inflatable. In the middle sat a small wall, and on either side, Michael and Emma were bouncing lightly. Emma had again chosen to go barefoot, this time due to behind her being a small slime pit. It wasn’t very deep, but enough to get her lower legs messy. The quip was that “it has to be bias somehow against the adult”. Emma hadn’t been too happy about it, but in the end she couldn’t argue.

“Here we are with the slime wall, and as you know its a twist on the old classic. What Michael here has to do is pick up one of these many gold counters, and put them on this wall here in the middle, whilst Emma has to run up and try to take them off, whilst trying to keep out of her slime pit. There is a bungee cord attached to both platers however so it won’t be too easy. It’s 10 points for each counter left at the end of the game on the wall! We ready? Good! 3, 2, 1, GO!”

Dave bounced off the inflatable as Michael ran inward with a counter, her quickly put it on the wall as his cord snapped back. Emma bounced in anticipation and then finally ran inward, taking the counter he had placed on the wall, just as he put another one on. She was pulled back but quickly bent forward to slow herself, and so she avoided coming into contact with the green pit behind her. She bent over it and put the counter on the wall and as she turned back, she saw that Michael had quickly placed another two on the wall.

“Here we are then, the slime wall, one of my favourite games this is, as it really makes the adult work. I mean look at Emma there she is having a job trying to keep away from that slime she is!”

Michael placed another counter on the wall and was snapped back, just as Emma was coming up to get another off of it. He bounced forward as she was snapped backward and placed the next one on. Emma bounced forward but finally lost her footing, to the delight of the audience. She slid backward as her cord pulled and -

“OH!”

She looked back toward her feet, which were suddenly dipped in something cold; she lifted a foot up and stringy bits of slime clinged to it, slowly dripping away, her pink nails barely visible under the green. She grimaced and stood up, watching Michael place a counter on the wall, and suddenly she slipped on her slime covered feet, waving her arms and she fell.

“OH! What a splash there! Emma has fallen right into the green goo there! Ha-heyy! She will have one soggy bottom now thats for sure, just as were counting down to the end too – oop, I better get out there!”

Michael placed another on the wall and the klaxon sounded. He breathed heavy but burst into laughter. He couldn’t help himself.

“Ew, you got green alllll over your bum. What a mess you have got yourself into there big nose!!”

The audience and Dave must not have heard this, and she stood up in the cold slime, furious that she had fallen. Her shorts and underwear underneath were saturated with good, and she could feel the coldness around her more private parts. She cringed and placed a hand on her round and wet backside. It’s soaked, ugh god that is horrible. She went slightly pink as she realised how wet her shorts and backside were and how it felt.

“What a game that was, such a classic here on Get Your Own Back. Let’s have a look here Michael…1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7…well done, 70 points there! And as for you, I’d best get yourself cleaned up right away, your meant to be the blue team not the green team!”

-

The scene quickly changed to show the yellow team in the place of the blues.

“Ok then, same game same rules – each counter is worth 10 points, and Olivia you might want to steer clear of the slime! 3, 2, 1, go!”

Both Olivia and Cory ran out, however Olivia realised it was pointless for her to do so and so bounced calmly back near the slime pit. As soon as she got there though, she bounced forward to take the counter that Cory had just placed on there. She took it off and bounced to her own wall to place it on there, and then bounced back, taking the next one off just as Cory placed one on.

“Here we go, the yellows playing now – oooh! I tell you what Olivia seems to be doing very well here, look at that she’s taking them off very quickly here, something tells me she doesn’t want any more encounters with gunge today…”

Cory placed another counter on the wall as Olivia took another one from it. I’m doing good, come on lets keep this up. She bounced forward again and got another one, just as Cory was placing one on. She was going fast and she was taking them at a rapid rate, taking them barely before Cory could get them, and it was something Dave picked up on, which made her smile.

“Un…Unlucky there Cory…looks like you’re not doing too well!”

Cory hardly heard as he placed another one on, obviously trying witha ll his might to get a good number on there. She smiled at his attempts and took another off, putting it on the wall. Suddenly she started to go in slow motion, being cocky now, and then as she got a counter, she did a sort of dance back.

“Oh my look at Olivia there she is getting right into it, in fact…she’s taking the mick! Blimey I – look at that, taking the absolute mick she is!”

Olivia laughed to herself and she dances backward when suddenly she wobbled, trying to steady herself. Cory picked up on this, and as the audience counted down, ran toward the wall, just as Olivia had turned to face the slime, and he gave one huge bounce that wobbled the whole inflatable. His babysitter screamed as she fell downward into the small pit on her hands and knees, creating a splash which covered her front and splashed at her face. She squealed a little more as she slipped over onto her back, lying in the slime, just as the klaxon went.

“Stoooop! Stooop! Wow what a game and my goodness, look at you Olivia! Well – haha – thats what you get when you try to be a little cocky! I say you got a deserved little sliming there! Alright then Cory let’s have a look here…1, 2, 3, 4…ah only 4 I’m afraid, but still a great score, 40 points!”

Cory cheered,  happy with what he got as he looked over again to Olivia. She was kneeled in the small pit of slime watching and listening. She didn’t look overly too bothered at some getting on there, and sort of nodded as though she was telling herself she did a good job.

“Well after that game the scores are looking very much like this, Cory for the yellows has 100, but now in the lead with 120 is Michael for the blue team!”

–Round 3: “Pie Jinks”–

The camera cut faded from the titles to show a slowly moving green and red screen. It shone a little bit, and looked to be like some sort of putty. It slowly zoomed out to reveal the dense tank of gunge, and Dave was leaning above it, a nose-peg on his nose and looking like some form of evil wizard. He leaned back and sat beside the tank, the camera now zooming fully out to show Emma sitting with him, looking over her shoulder with cringing at the gunge, and looking to him as he spoke.

“Hmmmm yes. I think another half hour under these studio lights should make it smell worse, ready for one nasty babysitter. Emma, you’re currently more likely to go in right now than Olivia, so I’m guessig your a bit worried?”

“Worried? I’m petrified Dave. This stuff just looks so sludgy and horrible.”

“Oh it is, it is! Now talking of bad smells, I heard a rumour that you have some particularly smelly socks -”

“That is a flat out lie! It’s not true, Michael and his sister just love to try and tell Craig stuff to put him off….off…well maybe liking me.”

She went very pink in the face, obviously not wanting to go along with the accusation of her being here publicly. Dave however was smiling, intrigued.

“I also heard about one or two other bad habits, one of them being that you clog up the shower with hair?”

“Again, not true. They just make stuff up!”

“Ah right well talking of clogging up, we fished some of this stuff out from underneath the old BBC center, so some of it may have once clogged up the drains. But I tell you something else, if you don’t act soon then you may be clogging it up by landing in it!”

“I hope not..”

-

A few minutes later and Dave was springing in between Olivia and Emma, smiling wide. Behind him, in the fore ground in front of the GUnk Dunk was a pie booth. It had a hole cut out and two little holes in for hands. On it, it had painted, “I’m a babysitter, and I’m horrible!”. In front of Dave and the girls was a table full of pies, and there was also two small water pistols.

“Alright then it’s time for pie-jinks. Now, for years we had on here Goo Who, a bit of fun poking and all really, but we decided to name it pie jinks in honour of the rotten pies we always use, pus because we changed it a little bit, and I will tell you how in just a moment. But before that, let’s give both Olivia and Emma 10 seconds to say why the other should go into the gunge.”

He turned to Olivia, pointing toward the camera and telling her to tell the audience why Emma should go in the gunge.

“Well, she really is a sly babysitter, did you see what she did earlier? She the gunge unfairly at me, I mean that was just unruly. But also like, she seems very up herself if you ask me and I feel -”

A klaxon sounded and Dave signaled for Emma.

“That…was a pants reason. Look, how would you like a stroppy babysitter ruining your day, not trying to have fun back with you when you play pranks or whatever? She also snitched, and that isn’t cool so -”

The audience chattered a little, and it seemed as though Emma may have made better points in reference to actual babysitting. Dave gave a couple of seconds, and both Olivia and Emma shot each other competitive yet mutual understanding looks. Both were in the same position and neither one hated the other.

“Ok ok, thats enough chatter now! Who here thinks that our stroppy miss Olivia shoud go in the gunge?”

The audience erupted with cheering and clapping, making Olivia wince. She had deduced that the pie booth behind her would most likely be for the one with the loudest cheer.

“Ok, ok…what about our obsess love dove over here should go into the goo?”

A few cheers rang out, but it was clear that people wanted Olivia to go in the gunge more, and suddenly Dave took her arm and was leading her around the back of the pie booth. She placed her head in and moaned a little; she had had things in her face a lot at home by the kids, and now this by another girl.

“Now, Olivia poke your hands through here….yes, thats it. Right now, take these two water pistols…right…yeap, ok! Those two water pistols are filled with the mixed up leftover of the first two games and you can use them to try and defend yourself. Why? Because Emma here won the vote, and will now get the chance to lower her own chances of going in that big nasty slop over there. Emma, for each pie you can throw and hit poor Olivia in the face with, you score 10 points for Cory. In other words, increasing Olivia’s chances of going in later over yours, got it?”

“Oh yes, I get it.”

“20 seconds…go!”

Dave stood back as Emma picked up the first pie and flung it toward the booth. It was terrible, it completely missed, and so she picked up another. This time it hit the board but lower down. Olivia meanwhile tried to use her pistols, but they were pathetic on purpose, hardly reaching the table in front of Emma, who launched another pie and failed.

“10 seconds – If you dont want to go in that stuff over there Emma you better throw!”

Emma took this as a slight motivation, and flung the next pie at the board. This time, the pie found its mark and it hit Olivia square in her bracing face, bits of cream flying to the sides a little and the tin fell away almost immediately. Emma gave a quick whoop, and threw another, which hit Olivia on the side of the face, giving her another thick coating of white cream. As the audience counted down, Emma launched one final pie, but it soared over the pie booth and missed terribly.

“Alright that’s quite enough Emma! My my, you’re not the best thrower in the world are you? Well you did get two pies right on Olivia’s face, so if we add 20 points to Cory’s score, that levels out the points going into the final round at 120 for both teams!”

The audience cheered, and Emma smiled looking pleased with herself. In the booth Olivia hadn’t moved, and was still pathetically squirting the pistols. She spat out some cream and sighed heavily at her humiliation, not out of embarrassment  but fatigue. She had had two years of this. Just as long as I stay out of that manure pit of a tank that’s the Gunk Dunk on national telly, then I will be pleased.

–Round 4: “Cherry Pickers”–

The camera went from looking to the floor, to a quick pan up. Dave was standing in between both teams on a large inflatable floor, in front of what looked like a large cardboard looking tree. On it, where multiple bean-bags, all looking red and looking like large apples or cherries on a tree. To Daves right and left, Cory and Michael were smiling big and to their respective side away from Dave, their babysitters were dressed up looking like large muffins, and had more cherry looking bean-bags on.

“Alright then it’s time for the last game before the gunge, and it’s another old classic which is served up just like it used to be. As you can see behind me here we have a large cherry tree, full of cherries, and to my right and left over here we have two very silly looking cupcakes, give us a wave ladies….haha!”

Emma waved putting on a fed up looking face, and Olivia also waved sighing as she did, yet a small smile was on a her face. She obviously found the attire comical.

“Right. Now, what both Cory and Michael have to do, is try and take these cherries from our two large cupcakes, and place them into their own bin. But of course, our cupcakes don’t want to feel naked without their cherries and so will be running off to keep them, whilst refilling them from the tree to keep cherries on themselves. It’s 10 points for each cherry in your bins boys, good luck…3, 2, 1, GO!”

Olivia started half running half bouncing, having just rolled her eyes at Daves joke, which she could nearly enough relate to, and Emma too began running. Both crossed each other, giving each other a competitive look as they did. Cory ran and plucked a cherry from behind Olivia and dropped it in her bin, dodging the large cupcake of Emma as he did, and ran back toward Olivia, who saw him and bounced around on her heels, running in the opposite direction. Michael had already got a couple of Cherries from Emma already, and was going for his next one, but Emma was bouncing suddenly faster now, and he was beginning to breathe heavier.

“Love this game here on Get Your Own Back, I tell you I love watching adults, especially horrid babysitters, running for their lives! Haha! Looks like Cory just got another one though, and deary me Michael looks tired out already, but there we go, he got another!”

Emma almost cursed, but put it off and ran away from Michael, quickly picking up another cherry form the tree and put it on her front. She ran tred to keep watching him, and when she saw him, she stopped and ran the opposite way. Olivia meanwhile was bouncing like mad left right and center. She was grabbing cherries as fast as she could off the tree, and then jumping ahead three steps at a time on the inflatable. Suddenly though Cory was in front of her, and plucked a cherry off. As soon as he had she turned and jumped away.

“Olivia is going pretty mad there, blimey. And look now so is Emma. You know I don’t think either of these ladies want to go into that gunge later, and who would blame them! Michael’s taken another there, Cory has too and – WOAH, OH NO LOOK AT THAT! Oh no! Ohhh, haha, she’s gone flying!”

Olivia had bounced away and looked at Cory, and without realising it, she was veering into the path of Emma. She toppled over and went rolling away in the cupcake squealing, whilst Cory laughed his head off, bouncing after her. Emma wobbled but managed to stay upright, however Michael angled to her side and grabbed a cherry quite violently.

“Hey, get out the way BIG NOSE! HAHA!”

“You little -AHHH!”

Emma fell finally, Michael watching and laughing for a second, and then ran off to put his cherry in the bin. Emma rolled around in a large circular path, until all of a sudden she crashed into the already floored Olivia. Both Michael and Cory picked up cherries off of them, and whilst they’re babysitter were wobbling and rolling on the floor, they quickly high fived each other whilst running toward their bins. Dave and the audience was counting down and the klaxon finally sounded.

“Alright alright, stop! My goodness, my goodness, this unbelievable, this is absolute carnage! My my!”

Dave couldn’t contain his laughter, as both Emma and Olivia rolled around to his right. The audience were also in stitches along with both of the kids.

“Right, well I better count these cherries – haha – my word, right excuse Olivia…oh wait no Emma…hah, right…Michael let’s start with your bin, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12…120 points good score…right over here, running running running…right, Cory’s bin, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11…very good score there, 110 points!”

Both Cory and Michael cheered and bounced, whilst Emma and Olivia had both calmed a bit and were listening. Dave motioned for more applause for the contestants.

“Alright then, let’s find out those final scores! Cory for the yellows has 230, but in the lead as we go to the Gunk Dunk, is Michael for the blues with a whopping 240!”

The audience cheered, and behind Dave, Emma audibly groaned. The titles came up with a competition for the viewers, taking away the scene.

– The Gunk Dunk –

Dave was standing in front of the gunk dunk, with both Michael and Cory, behind them, the tank was looming with Emma and Olivia both now sitting.

“Ah who will get their nasy babysitter though, into that nasty stuff? As you can see behind both Emma and Olivia are sitting above the brand new Gunk Dunk, so let’s go there now!”

The audience cheered as Michael and Cory went to the sides, and Dave also to one side.

The camera changed to looking at the gunge in the tank, blotchy and slightly shiny, a dense pool of red blues and yellows. It hardly moved now, in contrast to bubbling at the start, and a few lumps of gunge were forming where it had been left under the studio lights, almost setting in some ways. The producers had aimed for it to sort of ‘set’ like some form of food, for an added element of horridness. In the middle of the tank were the words, “Bigger, Better, Thicker” and below it read the words, “Add: One Awful Babysitter”. Below this, a small projection of the new GYOB logo was slowly rotating. The fact that more writing than ever before in the gunge, showed how much bigger it had been made, and how much more gunge than ever before there was. The audience were cheering at the top of their lungs.

“Yes! Yes! That’s right, it’s back and even worse than before! The new Gunk Dunk everybody, slimy, smelly, and ever so cold, ready for nasty grownups everywhere!”

Dave finished his sentence has he got to his podium, the audience cheering loudly. Michael and Cory also appeared to the sides of Olivia and Emma, who were the only ones who obviously were not cheering. They were sitting directly above the gunge, their seats mere inches above the disgusting muck. Olivia was holing her seat, looking at Corey with a look of loathing. She looked back down at the gunge which was only just below and shivered a tiny bit. It didn’t look pleasant. What on earth is creating that smell…and what the hell are those things floating in it! This is horrible.

Emma also watched as Michael on her side got to his podium. He stuck his tongue out at her and she looked away. She had her hands firmly on her bare knees, which were brought up a little bit more for the fact she had her feet up, as far away from the gunge below as possible. She hated the fact now she had come on, she thought she could handle the mess before it started, due to her torment over the last couple of years, but looking down at it now, she didn’t want to bear the thought of being plunged into it. This is a lot different from cakes and other stuff…it looks absolutely vile. Oh no, if Craig watches this…

“Look at that stuff there…isn’t it horrible. I tell you, whilst we were playing the games you smell it from over there you really could, and no wonder as it’s been under the studio lights all day and last night. Right then though, Olivia, I heard you have a knack for getting muddy and falling in all sorts of various stuff because your clumsy when looking after Cory – what do you think of this stuff? Worse than the things you’ve fallen into?”

“First of all, I get pranked Dave, and second of all yes. It is…I mean it’s…”

He watched as she poked the top of her toes into the gunge, bringing them out covered in some red and blue. She grimaced, watching the gunge stick to her toes, as very slowly a large glob formed and slowly dripped back in. She curled her toes over the seat and shook her head slightly. How thick do they want to make it? She turned back to Dave.

“Its…ugh…I…Cold. Very cold. It’s disgusting.”

“That it is, you got that right, and you could end up down there COVERED in it! But Emma, as for you…you always try and impress Craig and try to get him to like you, it’s almost as yuck what you do, as this gunge is! But I heard once you dressed as a chicken once whilst -”

“THATISNOTTRUEMICHAELANDHISSISTERDIDIT.”

“Blimey…right well, are you feeling like a chicken now looking down?”

Emma looked down quickly, and then at Michael. She kept her feet firmly away from the gunge and pulled a face, looking back at Dave. I swear to god if I end up down there, ugh…it will be so gross. And she couldn’t get that thought out of her head, the gunge looked vile, and the wiff coming from it was too. She had gotten messy before but not like this, she hoped to god that Olivia would be going down, not her…Emma snapped back to looking at Dave. She was staying on her seat.

“Yes. I’m not going in. Not at all.”

“Oh well we will see about that, because you see you won’t be off to a good start, because seeing as Michael got more points than Cory, we will be moving you up 1 notch! Haha! So up you go Emma!”

Emma looked down at the gunge as her chair moved up. She was happy to be further from it for the time being. She kept her feet though right back on the seat, and when the chair stopped, she looked at Michael. He was smiling evillyf  like he did when ever she was looking after him. he clearly wanted to pull the lever next to him badly.

“Right, now what I’m about to do is ask a series of questions and for each question one of these boys gets right, what do we do? …. That right, we will crank up their babysitter, and it’s the first babysitter to get to top, who will be going down into this very yucky slop. Right then, the gunge is ready and waiting, both Cory and Michael are ready, so lets go. First question. In Toy Story, what is name of the top with cowboy hat?”

Michael was quicker than Cory and the blue buzzer sounded, causing Emma to close her eyes and sigh.

“Woody.”

“Woody is right, pretty obvious one there, what do we do with Emma?”

The audience replied as they usually did and Emma was taken further away from the gunge, and to the second notch. Michael had also answered with the audience and was slightly bouncing on the post, obviously loving her torment as usual. Olivia meanwhile was watching on and hoping, Cory was also concentrating hard as Dave asked what sort of animal was known for its long trunk. He slammed his button down as soon as he heard the word trunk.

“An elephant…”

This time it was Olivia’s turn to sigh a little. Her chair rose up and away from the pool below and she looked at Cory, with a threatening look, whilst he waved. He was enjoying himself it seemed as much as Michael was. The little git..

“Next question, what is 6 – 4? OH! Michael right away!”

“2.”

Emma rolled her eyes and looked at Dave this time as she was taken up away from the gunge. What the hell, that’s way too easy! She stopped with a jolt on the third notch and looked down at the gunge. It was starting to look a lot more less appealing.

“Oooo, 3 notches to 1 there, your getting further away Emma -”

“I can see that Dave thanks.”

“Oop! Bit snappy there, maybe I should be more quiet to her! Alright alright, next question. What do people generally use to clean off with after a shower?”

Oh for hells sake. Emma shot a look at Michael who had slammed down on his button with rapid speed. She shook her head at him, something which he noticed and laughed at.

“I think big nose knows I know it, a towel! Hahaha!”

Emma could do nothing more but look in shock, she could feel her face reddening as the audience erupted in laughter, and to her right Dave was also laughing his head off like a little kid. She looked at the audience in front of her, which went slightly louder and one or two people were pointing, obviously now noticing her nose being a slight bit larger than normal. She gave a shudder as her chair moved up another notch, the audience cheering slightly as it did.

“Look at this all Michael needs to do is get one more question right and it could be his babysitter Emma going down for a very yucky plunge in our very mucky gunge.”

Olivia had covered her mouth slightly, laughing a little at what Michael had said. She had to admit, it sounded like Emma had it just as bad as she usually did. She caught Emma looking at her and quickly tried to stop, looking down at the gunge and away from Emma’s stare and trying to contain her smile.

“What time is it when it is 18:00?”

Olivia looked to Cory, who seemed to be trying to work it out. He wasn’t the best when it came to numbers, as already been proven a few questions before. Emma was looking at Michael, who also seemed to be having trouble working out and smiled. Maybe she wouldn’t be going in after all, as she figured Cory was about to answer.

“Can no one get this? It’s not that hard, it’s pretty easy – OH! Michael?”

Emma stopped smiling smugly immediately. She whirled her head to looking at him as he took his hands off the buzzer and yelled.

“6PM!!”

“NO!”

Emma stopped restraining her feet, letting them slip into sitting lightly on the seat as normal, and threw her arms up to her face slightly, not touching her cheeks but nearly. She shook her head and protested two more times quickly, whilst Michael cheered along with the audience as Dave announced the question correct. He held up his left hand and asked what they did with adults, to which the audience, and Michael and even Olivia answered. her chair suddenly rumbled upward as she put her hands on her cheek fully and looked at the gunge below, shaking her head madly. She looked at the gunge, how slimy it looked and the lumps floating in it, not to mention she could still smell it. But suddenly it disappeared from view slightly, so that she could only see half of it, as her chair motioned backward along the short bit of track.

“Ohhhhh! Look at this, Emma is right at the top there, I think she knows what this means you know. Haha, she will won’t be looking smug again for a long time I can tell you that, but Emma we wil leave you up there for  a -”

“THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING. I’M NOT GOING DOWN.”

“Hahaha, my word, no yes you will be but for now you’re going to wait there. Olivia! Olivia, you know I don’t think I have seen anyone on this show look as relieved as you do right now. You might throw a lot of strops and tantrums and get on Cory’s nerves here, but you’re not going into the gunge, how do you feel?”

Olivia was smiling and clapping a little bit, and shooting a few looks to Cory smugly, before she turned to look at Dave when he spoke. She couldn’t stop smiling and clapping even when she spoke.

“Dave I’m so happy, thank you, THANK YOU! I really am overjoyed, and actually I did enjoy it a little bit today. Bad luck Cory looks like I won!”

Cory looked down, and then in the opposite direction. He was disappointed, but all he could think of was wiping that smug look off of Olivia’s face. He did think about yanking the lever right there and then, but decided he would make her suffer himself at some point at home. With that he looked back, thinking that he may as well enjoy what was going on. After all, Emma was as bad and annoying as Olivia according to Michael, who he had befriended quite well over the course of the show. Olivia was also onlooking, looking extremely pleased.

“Right but as for you Emma, you know the rules, first adult to get to the top, will be going down into our brand new, ultra-nasty slop! But Michael, as for you…this is Emma, your babysitter. She always chases around a guy and makes you have to go with her, she apparently tried to rat you out to your parents a lot, not to mention trying to look pretty constantly. She also according to you has the worst smelling socks ever and she leaves them all around your hose when she comes over….well hey, it’s time to give her a brand new look, and get this series off to a great start by dumping her into a vat of complete muck. Time for the ultimate prank, PULL THAT LEVER, and Get Your Own Back on your babysitter! Go, go!”

“Bye bye big-nose!”

The audience laughed at this as they erupted into cheer. He yanked the lever and the new Gunk Dunk was set in motion. Emma, who had been shaking her head and holding her cheeks the whole way through Daves little speech, was pulling a face of complete dread. Out of all she had suffered, she would be suffering the worst thing yet, and in front of millions. She continued to shake her head as he chair slowly moved forward, revealing once again the vile gunge below her, the audience cheering and Dave and michael leading the count of her getting to the edge with a 3, 2, 1. She sat, her legs hunched close together, feet also close together and was shaking her head, and couldn’t help herself from the tension of screaming out.

“No, no…oh my god, no, no wait, no no, oh go please – AGHHH!”

Emma screamed over the sound of the audience as the chair started flying down, more sudden than she had expected. She flew down, sparks flying at both sides, as she held her fists in tight balls just below her chin. She was going down in her mind slower than what she though, and she scrunched up her face into a repulsed look, when suddenly she felt something slimy hit her face. She opened her eyes looking shocked, as one of the small cannons had squirted her early. As she tried to comprehend what happened, she was engulfed from above with a spattering of green and blue, her legs suddenly getting plastered with thick gunge, and her head getting a shower too. She let out a huge scream, her eyes wide in terror as it happened, and she stayed this way when her chair suddenly stopped and flung her forward at an angle, right into the vat. She collided with it her face still wide as it was dunked below, her knees suddenly cold and within a second her entire body had disappeared in a wave of dense splashes and sloshing. All the audience could see for a moment was her feet just near the chair, which kicked a little and then slowly fell under the surface too. A mixture of yellow and red continued to pour in from above, as the audience were nearly on their feet, Michael was jumping and cheering loudly, and Dave was clapping too, happy with how the first Gunk Dunk seemed to have gone.

“Wooaaaaahhhhh! WOW! WOW!”

Olivia was clapping and in sticthes also, with Cory smiling a little as the gunge exploded and a figure of gloop came up thrashing. Emma was covered in layer upon layer of congealing, slimy gunge, her long hair, now holding a huge amount of gunge, covered her face and her chest, feeling wet on her burning red face. She lost her balance and went slipping slightly back, but as soon as she did a torrent of blue fell and covered her. She was freezing, her top and shorts were saturated, and the gunge was everywhere. She could feel it all down her top, dripping in between her breasts and further down, the coldness of it was cringeworthy, feeling it all moving around. Her feet under the gunge were feeling horrible too, the gunge flowing in between her toes and surely ruining her painted nails.

“Unbelievable, wow, that was absolutely incredible! Michael, Michael you got your own back on your babysitter from hell, how do you feel?”

“EXCELLANT!”

The audience cheered as more gunge fell from the sky, and Emma squealed and tried to duck her head out of it’s path as she held her hair covered face in her hands. As soon as it was over she tried to move forward a little bit, breathing heavy and slicked her hair back, feeling the goo throughout it, squeaking in disgust every few seconds as she moved. She hated it. She hated its feel, how it was wet yet thick at the same time, she hated that a slimy pile of it had gotten all through her long her, she was no longer luxuriously  long and brown, but now heavy with gunge and all in a mess around her shoulders.

“Anything you want to say to her?”

“How do you like you’re just desserts Emma!”

“You little – AGHHH, OHMYGOD – BLEGH.”

She was cut off as she turned around as all of the small cannons around the two seats, used in the dunk turned and fired unge at her. She got some right in the mouth and got a fresh coating of green and red, and some blue on her front. Her face was plastered and covered up with fresh gunge and as she half screamed, half blubbed, she fell backward and for a few moments all everyone could see was slime covered hair floating at the top on the surface, and a pair of feet quickly splashing up a couple of times further in. Dave started to speak as she found her footing, and rose up a little, her hair recovering her face, her nose comically poking through a little to Michaels delight. She turned toward the audience and cameras, another splatter of yellow now falling onto her, and she didn’t bother right away to slick her hair back, just stood feeling mortified, her nice round chest now looking very visible as the slime had a wetness to it.

“That was fantastic, well done, thank you SO MUCH for bring her here today! Cory, and Michael you both walk away with a bunch of great prizes, and a photo album showing you the best bits from the show!”

Olivia, Michael and Cory all clapped, watching Emma finally slick her hair right back, and looking around, her face covered in in various colours, and a large glob of gunge swelling in a drip under her nose, prompting a few laughs. She started to mouth something to herself, breathing heavily as she rested there, cold, slimy and embarrassed. She had never suffered worse than this from Michael or Jane, and ultimatley in front of the whole nation too, and also, most likely in front of Craig, who would play up to this forever now.

“Well the best bit about the show was undoubtedly this part. And Emma, I would maybe clean up before you try and see Craig again. Mind you, I don’t think he would come anywhere near you, because you really are very very smelly right now, even more so than your socks and feet of yours, HAHA!!!”

“How dare y – BLEGH!”

The audience laughed at this and Emma wheeled around to snap back but was once again victim to a fresh coating of gunge from the cannons, prompting even more cheering and laughter, causing the sound to be almost deafening. Ugh god…It’s true though…I absolutely stink, she thought to herself as she let out a cry of humiliation  more gunge also spattering her from above. She turned to look at the audience and sank a little bit down into the goo, scrunching her face up and practically starting to cry a little bit to herself, and shaking her head. I was so wrong for coming on here…television or not, and I look hideous and my makeup and – ugh gross! As Emma was treated to even more gunge from above and behind from the cannons, Dave spoke loudly.

“That’s al we have time for here at Get Your Own Back, thank you to all my guests, to Michael and Cory, and one very messy looking Emma, the prank defnitley on her today! We will see you next time for our first celebrity special of the new series! Bye bye everyone, goodbye!”

Dave, Michael, Cory and Olivia all waved as the camera angled upward and focused on Emma, who now only had her head poking out of the gunge. She had a pile of the stuff on her head and it was dripping thickly down now over her face. Her long brown hair all over the place, some of it in the gunge behind, and some covered the left of her head, as she sat there totally humiliated and messy, wondering why on earth she came on the show. And then the credits began to roll.

-

A short time later and she was still in the tank, starting her way over to get out, until she saw Michael looming above her. He leaned down a little bit an evil look on his face. He seemed to be holding something behind his back, just as Jane was coming up beside him, also looking evil as they always did. She stared at them both in dislike as Jane piped up.

“I never got to be on the show which sucks, but it doesn’t matter, I stole one of the pies earlier, and so did Michael. I wanted to be some part of it to you know! So here we go, a little present!”

Emma stared while eyed in shock as two pies were stuffed into her face, covering the gunge that was already there, and making her scream. It was muffled out however suddenly, and before she could to anything else she felt a load of hands on her gooey head.

“And this is for Craig who we’re sure can’t wait to see this. Oh Emma! You really do stink you know, get back to where you belong, in the muck!”

And with that both kids pushed Emma’s head down and under into the gunge. Her scream suddenly blubbed away in the form of sloppy bubbles popping on the surface, and stayed under as both kids and some of the departing audience laughed. Her hair hung on the surface and the gunge lay still apart from the bubbles again, as Emma’s day of complete hell came to an end, leaving her below the surface, smelling awful, and feeling slimy all around her, and feeling mortified about when Craig would finally see the episode.

—

As I said at the top, the next episode will be celebrity and a vote, and hopefully up in the next couple of weeks, until then, enjoy this and don’t forget you can suggest ANYONE if you like! – MsM

Denise was arguably the milfiest mother ever to grace the gunk dunk, and although the gunge in the pool was far from its best, she did get heavily splattered from above. Anyway here’s a piece from one of those nostalgia programmes, showing a few snippets of Denise’s downfall (it was originally uploaded by another user, but I reuploaded it to correct the aspect ratio).

This scene has been posted before, but I think the original upload has vanished. In any case, its worth highlighting again.

This is an irritating one. As you can see, the guys earlier took part in an epic pie fight, while the girls didn’t get as much as a smear on them. As some recompense, however, the girls get dunked instead.

2014 marks the 50th anniversary of a TV show called “Not Only… But Also” (not to be confused with the album by The 88), the show that first gave the world gunge. NOBA (because I know WAMmers love abbreviations) was a comedy show hosted by Peter Cooke and Dudley Moore and had a segment called Poets Cornered, where guests would recite poetry while avoiding being dunked in a vat of BBC Gunge. Since then, gunge has shown up in… You know what, you’re on a WAM site. You don’t need me to talk about how many TV shows have people getting covered in slimy muck as a major fixture. I also probably don’t need to say how many of us have been influenced by said TV shows to write our own messy stories.

With that in mind, I’m planning a series of stories in the Suziverse which have some of my characters. I’ll have ones that exist already, ones I’ve got planned to debut in upcoming stories, and some entirely new characters. I’ll be calling it the Golden WAMiversary Series. The stories will be about the characters making one-off episodes of various old messy TV shows, including:

• Not Only… But Also
• TISWAS
• Double Dare
• You Can’t Do That On Television
• Fun House
• Noel’s House Party
• Run the Risk
• Get Your Own Back
• Figure It Out
• Dick ‘n’ Dom In Da Bungalow

So what do I need help with? Well, there are four things:

1. I know my list of shows is far from complete so I’m taking suggestions for shows I could use.
2. I’ve not decided how many of my currently existing characters will be used either, though I can assure you all that most of the major ones (Suzi, Nicki, the Kayotics etc.) will show up at some point. Many of my characters haven’t showed up more than once (like almost all of the SSD civilian gungees), and I’m more than certain there’s potential for them. The question is, which ones would be the best ones to bring back?
3. I’ve not decided who’s going on which shows either, though I have ideas.
4. I’m also taking ideas for character types for the new characters I’m hoping to use.

Thanks for reading! =)

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. Also, apologies to my British friends for the theme of this episode, as Thanksgiving is clearly an American holiday. And, of course, Thanksgiving isn’t until November. But I couldn’t pass up the chance to use some Thanksgiving foods. Enjoy!

THREE COURSE MEAL: THANKSGIVING EDITION

“Hello, and welcome to…THREE! COURSE! MEAL!”

Nelson Meddo, the host of Three Course Meal, entered to the roar of the crowd and flashed his signature smile.

“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. Now, let’s not waste anymore time—how about we bring out our lovely contestants?” The audience showed no objection, and cheered as the first contestant was introduced.

“Give it up for Ellie!” yelled Nelson, as Ellie walked out. She was a very physically fit girl, with a figure that she attributed to yoga—a favorite activity of hers. She was perky without being overbearing, with a nice tan to compliment her toned body. Her curly hair was naturally brown, but she had died it blonde a while ago, as she had often thought she was a blonde at heart. Her last dye had been a little while ago, and some of her roots were starting to show. Her bright eyes lit up as she blew a kiss to the audience and took her place in line.

“Our next contestant will be…Kitty!”

Kitty, unsurprisingly, had a great body. But, unlike Ellie, she hadn’t had to work for it—good genes and metabolism meant that thinness came naturally to her. The audience let out a little gasp as she walked out—not only was Kitty hot, but she was gorgeous. With her pale skin and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail—hair so light it was almost white—she almost looked like she was carved from ivory—a living statue.

“The lovely Kitty, everyone. But don’t let that applause stop, welcome our next contestant—Rosie!”

Rosie, a self-possessed geek, bounded onto the stage with infectious enthusiasm. She was nervous, but only because she was excited, and this made her feel giddy. Skinny, with a round but friendly face, and short auburn hair in a tidy bob, Rosie was not necessarily stunning, but was profoundly cute, with pert little breasts.

“And now, our final contestant of the day, Chloe!”

Although beautiful, the Asian-American Chloe most of all exuded a sense of sexiness far beyond just her pure physical beauty. Like all of the contestants for this episode, she was wearing a rust-colored strapless dress which left her arms and back exposed, showing off some graceful tattoos of some of her favorite song lyrics. Her short black hair had streaks of green and yellow and her nose had a rhinestone stud. Despite her punk-appearance, she didn’t wear a lot of makeup (she didn’t need it) just a little shadow to emphasize her beautiful eyes.

Nelson had the audience give all four contestants another round of applause and it was time to begin the game.

“Now, fans of the show know that usually, our contestants have a certain dress code—denim shorts and a matching shirt. But, our girls today are not dressed like this. No, they’re wearing these matching dresses, and don’t they look lovely?” The audience agreed that they did—none of the girls had enormous breasts, but the strapless and backless dresses certainly made the girls look very enticing. “And you may also notice,” continued the host, “that these dresses are in lovely fall colors and that’s because today, we’re celebrating one of my favorite holiday…Thanksgiving!”

“But, it’s not Thanksgiving!” cried out Kitty.

“Yes, but why should that make any difference? Thanksgiving is a great holiday and, most importantly, it has some of my favorite foods!” said Nelson slyly, to the cheers of the audience—they clearly liked this theme. “And to begin, we’re going to start with the side dishes!”

APPETIZERS (OR, IN THIS CASE, SIDE DISHES)

The girls were led over to four giant kiddie pools. On top of each kiddie pool was a covering so that they couldn’t see inside. Each of the contestants was understandably nervous as they took their place at each of the pools.

“Now, ladies, in each of these kiddie pools is a flag. All you have to do is hold up the flag in order to advance to the next round,” explained the host. “But, of course, that’s not all that’s in the pool. You may remove the covers.”

Each of the girls hesitantly lifted off the covers, revealing a different side dish in each pool. Ellie was standing in front of creamy, yellow macaroni and cheese. Kitty’s pool had sweet potatoes and marshmallows. Chloe was in front of some bright red and juicy cranberry sauce. Lastly, Rosie had a pool filled with slimy green bean casserole. She playfully dipper her toes in and squealed as her foot hit the white, mayonnaise-based sauce.

“Well, let’s not wait any longer—on your mark, get set, go!” And with Nelson’s instructions, they were off. Rosie eagerly dived in first, submerging yourself in the sloppy casserole. She figured that the flag had to be at the bottom and, if she was going to have to get messy anyway, she might as well get it over with. Kitty was a bit hesitant at first, but after a few seconds, she held her breath and brought her head under the sweet potatoes. The slimy orange goop filled her dress uncomfortably, and she was horrified to feel a bit of stickiness in her hair, and realized it was a bit of marshmallow.

Ellie was less eager to get messy. She was fine with sitting in the mac and cheese (although the cheese stuck uncomfortably to her legs. She didn’t want to put her head under, though—surely that wasn’t necessary to find the flag! Chloe, on the other hand, had yet to even step into the pool. She was just standing outside feeling around with her hands. Now, Chloe had no problems with getting messy, but she figured that she would have plenty of opportunities to get messy later in the show.

All of a sudden, there was a cry of “I got it!” as Kitty emerged triumphantly from the sweet potatoes. Her beautiful flaxen hair was matted down with the orange mess, which dipped down from her dress and trickled along her legs. And in her hand, raised in victory over her head, she held a pendant. Not too long after, Rosie emerged too—a huge grin on her green and white goo-covered face. She licked her lips and held up her flag for the audience to see. The two girls were led offstage to get cleaned up.

To Ellie and Chloe, it was abundantly clear that their strategies of staying clean were not going to work. Thinking “I’m doing this for the money,” Ellie dipped her head under the gooey cheese and felt it stick to her curly hair. She came up for air, exposing her pretty face now caked with yellow melted cheese. Chloe, similarly, stepped into her pool, immediately coating her body in dark red syrup. Without missing a beat, she dipped her head under until her body was unrecognizable under the thick coating of cranberry sauce. But, her gamble paid off—almost as soon as soon as she had gone underneath, she felt some fabric underneath her feet and emerged, sticky and but happy, and covered with beautiful red sauce. She left to get cleaned up for the next round.

“Well, Ellie, we’re sorry to see you go,” said the host, walking over to the losing contestant. The athletic Ellie stood in shock—she was not used to losing. And she was even less used to being covered in cheddar cheese sauce! She flicked some pasta out of her cleavage and pouted as Nelson helped her out of the pool and led her off the stage. And the audience was sad to see the fit young girl go too—knowing that more mess was coming up in the next two courses.

ENTREE

“Now, what other entrée would we have on Thanksgiving other than…” Nelson held the microphone out the audience and let them answer for him. “TURKEY!”

Nelson smiled and brought the girls over to a certain area of the stage. In front of them was a jigsaw puzzle which, when completed, would make a turkey.

“…and then what happens?” asked Chloe, knowing there had to be a catch.

“I don’t know what you mean!” said the host, slyly. “Just finish the puzzle as quickly as you can, and the first two to finish will advance.”

At Nelson’s command, the girls warily began to assemble their puzzle. They knew that something was going to happen, but what? Mashed potatoes? At one point, Rosie thought that perhaps turkey guts would rain down on them. It wasn’t a very complicated puzzle, and soon, to the crowd’s delight, Rosie had finished the puzzle to advance to the next round. As she looked at the turkey smiling up at her from the completed puzzle, she braced herself, thought “Here come the turkey guts, and looked down to shield her face. But, to her surprise, nothing dropped down from the ceiling. Instead, as she looked down, she saw the floor open up in front of her. Before she had time to think, she had fallen down until she hit something with a splash. The audience gleefully watched as Rosie climbed up from the pit into which she had fallen, dripping with creamy brown turkey gravy. The thick, light brown broth dripped from her, coating her body. Her dress hugged her figure as she wiped some of the gravy off of herself. After getting over the shock of falling into the pit of gravy, she decided she rather enjoyed this feeling, and she gladly accepted the audience’s applause as she left the stage to get cleaned up for the dessert course.

With just one spot remaining in the final round, Chloe and Kitty raced to get their puzzles done. They hadn’t been paying enough attention to notice what Rosie had been covered in—they just knew that whoever won would fall into a pit below and emerged covered in something. Kitty at least preferred not to know—she wanted that money badly and no matter what the substance was, it would be worth it. But, she was frustrated because she knew she wasn’t doing well on her puzzle. Puzzles had never been her strong suit and she felt like she was putting pieces in random places.

If anything, her desire to win was distracting her and making it harder for her to complete the puzzle. Sure enough, she heard a scream next to her and watched sadly as Chloe fell down into the pool of gravy. The sexy girl looked absolutely shocked, and maybe even a little turned on as she crawled out of the gravy pool, wiping the beige sludge from her eyes.

“And, unfortunately, Kitty, that means that you do not make it to the dessert course.” The audience let out a big “aww”—they were hoping this gorgeous girl might get really messy during her time on the show. “Are you glad you did the show?” asked Nelson.

“Well, it’s disappointing to go home, but at least I didn’t get covered in gravy!” said Kitty.

“Now, I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” said Nelson mischievously, and before Kitty could respond, the trapdoor under her opened up and the blonde fell into the gravy screaming. She crawled out of the pool furious, although you could hardly tell under the thick gravy that was coating her face and body. The color of the gravy especially stood out against her pale skin, and she was quite the sight to see as she stormed off—leaving without the prize money, and very messy indeed.

DESSERT

“Now for the dessert course,” announced Nelson, with Rosie and Chloe in new, clean dresses for the final round. “And it’s always a popular dessert on Three Course Meal—PIE!”

As always, the dessert course was a series of questions—each time they got a question right, they would receive a pie to the face. The first to get five pies in the face would win.

“And let’s bring out the pies!” shouted the host, and Ellie and Kitty each wheeled out a dessert cart with five pies on them. And they were happy to be back if it meant humiliating the girls who had beaten them to the final round.

“And there’s one more thing—as is standard for us here at Three Course Meal, you will be doing this course in your underwear. Let’s get those dresses off, ladies!”

Chloe, of course, was looking forward to this part. She actually preferred wearing as little clothes as possible, because she knew she looked good. Besides, she had worn special underwear just for the occasion, and she ate up the cheers from the crowd as she slipped out of her dress, revealing a sparkly sequined silver bra and thong. She turned and gave her ass a little wiggle—a little treat for her boyfriend in the audience.

Rosie was a little more hesitant. The girl who had been so energetic up until now suddenly grew shy. She was fine with getting messy, but she was not looking forward to being in her underwear on television. Furthermore, because they had been wearing strapless dresses, their bras were strapless too, and her black one was a bit more revealing than she was used to. She immediately crossed her arms over her chest. Kitty, who would be the one pieing her, thought this was unfair, so she went over and tickled Rosie a little on the side—the girl instinctively threw her arms away, giving the audience a full view. Resigned that she couldn’t do anything about her modesty, Rosie took her place by the pie cart.

Chloe won the coin toss and got to go first. She answered correctly and Ellie playfully picked up the first pie from the cart—a plain whipped cream pie. She slammed it into Chloe’s face with full force, so that it splattered. Chloe’s face was one of shock as Ellie removed the tin, as she wiped away the cream that was now all over her face. Rosie answered her first question correctly too. Kitty was a bit more gently than Ellie—rather than slam it into Rosie’s face, Kitty slowly submerged Rosie’s face into the pie, twisting it and making sure to get it in Rosie’s hair. Her face was completely unrecognizable when the tin was removed, and Rosie smiled as she licked some of the whipped cream away from her face.

The questions were not that difficult (the producers never wanted this round to last too long) and Chloe and Rosie each got their next question correct. Pumpkin pies were used, but the sticky orange filling didn’t really do much (despite Ellie and Kitty’s best efforts). The next pie was more promising—Chloe got her question right and soon her face was dripping with sticky, golden filling from an apple pie. Rosie got her third question right, and Kitty decided to put it right on top of Rosie’s head like a hat. As the golden goo dripped down, Rosie knew it would take a long time to get that filling out.

Chloe was feeling pretty miserable. She debated getting the next question wrong just to avoid more pies. She had gone on this show because her boyfriend told her it would be sexy, but she certainly didn’t feel sexy. As she answered the next question correct, she preemptively winced as Ellie treated her to a cherry pie right in the face. This drew huge applause from the crowd, as the sticky red filling dripped down from the beautiful girls face and landed directly on her cleavage and cream-covered shoulders. Rosie, on the other hand, was having a much better time. Who knew getting hit with pies was so much fun?! She answered her next question correctly and accepted the cherry pie with arms open. But, Kitty had another idea. She put the pie right on the poor girl’s barely-covered small breasts. Rosie almost fell off the chair with shock. She hurriedly wiped the crust and red syrup away from her breasts and folded her arms. She felt embarrassed, but there was also something thrilling about this.

“Now, now, Kitty. Let’s stick to the face,” said the charming host, much to the audience’s chagrin. “Okay, you each have been perfect up until now, answering all four of your questions. There’s one pie left for each of you, so it all comes down to this round.”

With this, Nelson asked Chloe her final question. Chloe got it right and braced herself for her final pie. It was chocolate custard, and Ellie threw it in her face with full force. The chocolate custard splattered everywhere, so that Chloe’s whole upper body was on the receiving end of at least part of the chocolate filling. She felt miserable, but at least she had gotten the question right. Rosie seemed kind of goofy—there was no way she could get her next question right.

But Chloe was proven wrong. Rosie answered the next question correctly and was treated to a faceful of chocolate custard, which sprayed over her neck and shoulders. Rosie was loving this—she didn’t even mind when Kitty gave her face a little lick to remove some custard (as you can imagine, neither did the audience).

“Well, dear audience, it looks as if we have a tie! I’ll now ask a tiebreaker question. The first girl to shout out the correct answer wins. The question is…which U.S. President signed the Treaty of Versailles.” It was Rosie who shouted out first– “Woodrow Wilson!”

“I’m sorry,” said Nelson, looking downward. Then, he let forth a mischievous grin and said “I’m sorry, Chloe, because that’s the CORRECT ANSWER!” Rosie leapt out of her seat and gave Nelson a big, sticky hug, which he accepted graciously. Chloe couldn’t believe it—she’d gotten this messy for nothing?! Everyone was gathering around the champion, leaving the sexy Chloe to sit there in the pie mess. She felt ignored, something she wasn’t used to feeling. She angrily wiped some pie from off her face and body. So angry was she, that she didn’t even her what Nelson said next.

“But since Chloe came so close, I say we let her join Rosie as she accepts her prize?” The audience seemed to like this idea, so Rosie sat next to Chloe.

“Great game,” Rosie said, beaming.

“What’s so great about it?” pouted Chloe. And that was the last thing she said before the two of them were sprayed from all angles with whipped topping (nothing goes better with pie, of course). Poor Chloe seemed to be getting the brunt of it, but Rosie, not wanting her to have all the fun, made sure that she got covered as well. There they stood, the smiling champion and the incredulous loser—two cute girls in their underwear covered in whipped topping. As Nelson closed the show and the cameras stopped rolling, it was truly a sight to be thankful for.

Pleased to have this part done. Part 6c will include a poll asking you who most deserves the money. Therefore I have used a lot of words trying to develop the personalities of the students that perhaps have taken a bit of a backseat so far. Enjoy!

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

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

This story contains adult themes.

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

Contestant Guide – Updated!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6a

“Now.” Gez looked at the camera “We are going to explore whether these students really deserve having their full tuition fee paid by us. To do this we are looking at secret camera footage of how they really spend their time at University. Three students are going to be safely into the next round. That means that four students are going to be facing the double head to head after this round!” Cue cheers from the audience, hungry for more action after Danielle and Harrie’s forfeit.

“Two-thirds of the voting for who most deserves the money will be done by you the public. But one-third is by a panel. To help Lucinda and I out we need someone who is erudite, educated and used to wielding power. Please welcome our government’s Minister for Efficiency, Lord Augustus Abraham Hawthorne of Chipping Campden!”

Lord Hawthorne lumbered onto the stage. He wore a three-piece pinstripe suit with a white shirt and red tie. Boos rang out from the audience as the profoundly obese and ugly peer took his place on the panel. He was renowned as a rabid advocate for slashing student places and a snobbish defender of privilege.

First up was Stephanie. The chubby Scot padded her way into the large chair above the steaming purple and yellow gunge. She was clearly nervous sand now faced the three panelists across from the gunge tank.

“Let’s have a look at your best bits” The video montage showed Stephanie emerging from a  clearly alcohol induced slumber at around 11.30am in an incredibly frumpy dressing gown. Opening the fridge she grasped a tub of butter clearly marked with her housemate’s name and used it to butter her toast and moved aside her plates from last night into a the already full washing bowl. Hungover and without make-up she was definitely not the best sight in the world. Sighing at her lecture timetable for confirmation of her already missed lectures she settled down in front of a trashy show that mocked poor and stupid people for their inadequacies.

The camera cut to six hours previously, in a terrible and generic nightclub. As a mortified male fresher underwent his rugby team initiation, Stephanie bent over him and extracted a tequila shot from his navel. To his obvious embarrassment her tongue rather lingered and her face had a wicked grin on it as she withdrew it. The video ended.

The old pinstriped dinosaur, Loes Hawthorne parted his lips “So it’s fair to say that you take advantage of anyone and everyone you meet?”

“Erm..” Stephanie stuttered “I try not to…it’s just you know…sometimes you live your own life and people just get in the way and plus that video was soooo unfair. It only showed a 24 hour period”

“Well..” Lucinda cut the discussion short “I thought that body shot was priceless. Before we decide whether to drop you in the slop of not we would like to offer you the chance to show us that you can take it as well as give it out”

Stephanie’s face creased with embarrassment but the lurch in her stomach at exposing her belly was nothing compared to the anticipation of being gunged. “I’ll do it, okay” she stammered “I know I’ve not been the best friend or student and I’ve been lazy and erm..stuff but please, please don’t chuck me in that fucking gunge. I am, deep down, a good person!” She reluctantly peeled off the straps of her top and reclined as the chair tipped back automatically.

Lucinda took control. “Right” callously disposing of her t-shirt to leave her clad only in her pink underwear. “Ten pounds for every boy who does a shot, fifty for every girl! She has a nice, deep bellybutton.” Stephanie glowered at Lucinda’s reference to her less than supermodel figure. Lucinda carried on her right hand a tray of brownish tequila jelly.

What followed was fairly unceremonious for the poor Scot. So many tongues lapped at her navel that she lost count. A series of both embarrassed and lairy lips sucked at the limes between her teeth. Lucinda succeeded in cajoling and coercing a series of volunteers. Stacks of notes changed hands.

A sense of calm lapped over Stephanie after this ordeal. Surely were not going to dump her in that slop after this. She smiled meekly at the panel.

“What’s your opinion M’lord?” asked Lucinda.

The peer’s ancient lined face crinkled at the pudgy girl in the pink underwear. “You my dear represent the worst vacuous excesses of today’s youth. Durham is an ancient and prestigious university and you have disgraced it by your actions today. You have made a complete and utter spectacle of yourself today. You are thoroughly deserving of this”

He winked at Gez, who pulled a lever.

“No, no, no!” screamed Stephanie “You arseholes!!!” Stephanie’s Scottish brogue was cut off by a splatter of gunge hitting her hunched shoulders and hair. As the machine’s mechanism clanked into action she was thrown like a cannonball and was submerged with a   surprisingly loud splash. The purple goop chilled her to her core and covered every inch of her body. She reemerged, a shaking mass of tangled hair, her expression one of shock and dejection. As she hurriedly attempted to leave the tank her bare feet slipped on the floor and the purple and yellow blob lay spreadeagled on the studio floor. There were roars from the audience at her embarrassment.

Ivona was next up. Her hands pushed back her shoulder-length hair away from her face. She had nearly won the last game but was unwilling to surrender her tight tartan jeans for a chance of answering the final question. She hopped up slightly boyishly to the seat.

“Well Ivona. A couple of middle of the road performances. No wins. No head to heads. No forfeits. All your clothes. You’ve flown slightly under the radar haven’t you??”

“Well you say in English.” her English was good but a Croatian accent remained, adorably so “Slow and steady wins the race.”

“Well we’ll see about that” remarked Lucinda callously. “Here are your best bits” She queued up the montage

The camera focused on her leaving her arguably tidy student flat for lectures at 8.25am. She stopped off for a takeaway coffee and proceeded to her lecture on Classical Philosophy. Emerging from this she proceeded to the University library with a blonde-haired fresh-faced friend. As evening fell she ventured to an open mic light where she read a poem that she had written.

To Lord Hawthorne’s trained ears it did not quite scan, some of the lines a little clumsily written but it was heartfelt and showed potential. She later went to the student cinema for an arthouse screening with four of her friends.

As the film cut out it was obvious that the panel were shaking with rage a little less than after the vignette of Stephanie’s existence. The Lord addressed her first:

“You have a number of impressive qualities Ivona. But I am interested in the future growth of this country. What are your plans after graduation?”

“I intend to stay in this country and get a job in sustainable development. I can speak four languages and I really like it in Britain.”

“Hm…it seems to me that a talented Brit could do that job BUT your exam results are very impressive. As a member of Her Majesty’s Government we would be happy to have you stay here. But let’s look at your course…Philosophy??? Useless right?”

“No, a common misconception.” Hawthorne had stumbled upon a question that Ivona had to answer often. “I learn a lot of approaches to management, people skills, how to operate ethically in a changing modern world and statistically Philosophy graduates have more earning potential than many other degrees” Ivona knew she had to fight her corner to avoid ending up in that horrid murky gunge.

“Ok” stated Hawthorne “Walk” Ivona hopped down from the platform and jigged out of the studio. Lucinda was grabbing furiously at the arm of Lord Hawthorne’s shirt.

“Cut the cameras, we will go to a break.”

Lucinda turned her face towards Hawthorne and cut the electricity to her mic as she addressed him.

“How can you just let her walk away? THAT’S NOT HOW THIS GAME WORKS!”

“Why do you want to humiliate her then?”

“Well she’s walking around smugly in her barely stained clothes, I felt she deserved a touch of the Lucinda Crow treatment.”

“I know your type Crow!” Hawthorne spat “You’re a sadist. You get kicks from humiliating people”

Gez interjected to play the role of peacemaker. “Ok you two. We’re gunging those we feel are undeserving and letting those get away clean who we feel are deserving. Our votes are being combined with the public votes too. The bottom four are heading into our double head to head. Why not say that if there is an individual who the public feels is undeserving of the money but who we already let walk away clean can have the full Crow treatment before we enter the head to head.”

Lucinda and the Lord eyed each other and shook on the deal.

Ali was next up. She confidently strolled onto the stage her blonde hair still in a ponytail. Ali had destroyed Lisa in a head to head and had narrowly missed winning the drinking competition game. She still wore her converse sneakers, jean shorts and a now stained light yellow vest top. 

“Let’s see your recordings.” Ali was shown fiddling distractedly with her phone in her lecture, before leaving for her TopShop job. Her workday was fairly quiet, Lincoln not being the most buzzing City. She mainly spent the time talking to her friend Kris, texting and aimlessly folding clothes.

So night time arrived. Ali was clad in a perfectly fitting black cocktail dress accessorized with silver heels, body glitter and her hair up rather than in the functional ponytail she wore in studio. Rather than the natural, fresh-faced beauty she portrayed in the studio she was sensual and ravishing. Her friend Kris was kohl-eyed cute in a more modest white dress, Unsurprisingly the girls barely bought a drink all night.

Similarly unsurprising was the fact that Ali did not go home alone that night, ending up wrapped around the arm of a Lincoln City left-back who subsequently took Ali home, the final shot was them leaving in a taxi.

Ali’s face was slightly shocked, a little embarrassed and smiled ruefully. “So” remarked the Lord, his toadlike face contorting as he spoke the words “In my view the WORST excesses of contemporary feminism is the idea that it is acceptable for a woman to go out, drink as much as men and go home with whoever you choose. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I don’t feel ashamed” said Ali “But your video showed a single night. I have to get a job through Uni and my nights out are how I blow off steam”

Lucinda’s objections to Hawthorne’s views were only tempered by her desire to humiliate the otherwise unsuspecting Alison.

“Now Ali. Your conquest for the night had a long-standing girlfriend. Let’s bring out Ashleigh!”

Ashleigh was a fake-tanned, short skirted, scouse harpy. She eyed Ali angrily from beneath her black hair extensions. Ali’s hands were over her mouth, what was going to happen??

“Now Ali, this is your task to try to convince us not to drop you in the slop. You have to make Ashleigh happy that you are very, very sorry for sleeping with her boyfriend.”

Ashleigh instructed Ali to kneel near her stilleto’d feet. Ali looked up at her and stammered “I am very, very sorry”

“Don’t talk to me you Uni slag. Pick up this bucket…and pour it over your head!”

Ali did as instructed, lifted the bucket and poured…

…a slow stream of thick black sauce cascaded over her blonde face to rapturous applause from the audience.

“Now bitch” Ashleigh removed her stilettos, dipped each one in a bucket of gloopy double cream “Lick it”

Ali pushed her sticky brown tresses to one side and gingerly lapped Kristal’s right foot with her tongue. The noise of the crowd indicted that they were somewhat disbelieving and wondered where it would end.

“I want you to lick them completely clean and say these words. I am a dirty fucking slag!”

Ali sat bolt upright. Looked her in the eye and said “No. I’m not the one who needs to be grovelling on her knees right now, you need to talk to your boyfriend Darrell.” Satisfied that anything she did would never be enough for Ashleigh she got up and walked back to her position above the gunge tank.

A video link appeared on the screen. Lucinda addressed Ali.

“We thought that this would happen Ali. So we have a back-up plan to punish you and show you the consequences of your actions”

A girl dressed tight black jeans and a black Vans t-shirt appeared on the screen bound to an x-frame. Ali’s eyes widened in shock. It was her friend Kris. Her feet were bare and there appeared to be thick black tape around her elbows, waist and ankles. The look on her face was one of pure terror and she was surrounded by a mass of pipework.

“No, no, no! Don’t do this to her!” Ali begged.

“Too late!” remarked Lucinda with glee “3-2-1″

Kris screamed as a mass of black chocolate sauce cascaded down on her. A high-pressure hose spat out a jet of white cream.

As Kris struggled with the restraints on her wrists and ankles something worse than the pelting was happening from above. There were pipes and hoses entering her clothes. Sticky liquid was filling her jeans and t-shirt. Her clothes bulged as the thick tape prevented the liquid exiting. As the cute little girl with the bobbed haircut shouted obscenities at the camera it cut out, leaving Ali to imagine her response afterwards.

Ali felt a knotted mass of shame at what she had dragged her friend into; as well as anger at Lucinda and her cronies.

“Just drop me in the gunge please.” she spat at the panel. The chair flung her into the purple and yellow pool completely saturating Ali. The gungey mass got to it’s feet and exited the tank and angrily flicked double middle fingers at the panel.

“Now, Hanako next up.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

In this advert for web-hosting CrazyDomains.co.uk, a male office worker is sent into a daydream after his boss, who happens to be Pamela Anderson, asks for cream in her coffee. The ad, which originally aired in Australia, was banned from UK television by the Advertising Standards Authority (ASA), who labelled it “sexist and degrading towards women”. It has since become an internet hit (cf: Streisand Effect).

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.

“…it’s foamy, it’s creamy, it’s slightly chilled…”, Mel purred. This was in fact not a description of the mess on the show, but a pre-recorded segment on behalf of one of the sponsers, Boddingtons.

Presently, the scene returned to the studio. On the red sofa, Mei-Ling and Myleene fidgeted uncomfortably; by now the mess was really starting to soak into their undergarments. On the yellow sofa, Rachael was sitting alone in a pool of gunge. Kelly had gone to argue with the director about one of the questions, a point Mel didn’t want to draw attention to as she delved straight into introducing the next team.

“Welcome back”, she beamed, the camera at close range, “and please welcome the Dark Blue Team: Abby Smith and Catherine Tyldesley!”

There was cheering as the pair appeared through their respective doors. Abby had dark brown hair with a reddish henna tinge that was tied into an upstyle. She had brown eyes and a tanned face that bore a cheeky grin. She had opted for the dark blue Match & Mess T-shirt, in a small size that left an inch of skin visible at her hips, and a pair of half-length black leggings. Standing 5 ft 7 tall, she cut a skinny size 8 figure, and had a B-cup bust that manifested itself as a pair of small bumps in the T shirt.

Catherine, by contrast, was famously buxom, and had chosen the tightest available crop top so that the tops of her breasts bobbed out of the top. On her lower half she had gone for the full-length leggings. Her blonde hair was loose and in a slightly tousled style; Catherine knew there was no point spending a lot of time having it done in the salon, because it wasn’t going to stay nice.

The pair grinned at each other excitedly and then decided to engage in a group hug with Mel, before seating themselves on the dark blue sofa.

“Welcome, welcome!”, Mel picked up her information card. “Ok, Abby is 20 years old, born on Christmas Eve as it happens, and she hails from Preston – great to see a fellow Lancashire lass on the show. She works in her father’s pub, serving drinks and cleaning, and is also a football coach for the local youth team. Her football interest continues in her spare time, since she is a passionate supporter of Preston North End, and her other hobbies are cricket, music and films. Do you play football yourself, Abby?”

“Sometimes, but usually I prefer to be a coach or a spectator”, replied Abby. “I’m actually a bit clumsy.”

“Yes, we know all about that”, chuckled Mel. “Which brings us on to your supporters. Would you care to introduce them?”

“Yes, they are my sisters Hannah and Emily, and my younger brother Tom”, Abby pointed up to the front of the upper tier, where the three stood waving. Hannah was slightly older than Abby, fuller of figure and with blonde hair. Emily, who was about 16 or 17, looked strikingly similar to Abby, and could even have passed for her twin were it not for looking more babyfaced. Tom was aged about 13 or 14, and shared Abby’s mischievous grin. Beneath them they had suspended a banner that read “DO US PROUD ABBY!”

“I dread to think what they’ve said about me”, cringed Abby, waving back.

“Oh they told us everything“, taunted Mel. “But here’s what you had to say about Catherine: I’d like my partner to be Catherine Tyldesley, aka Eva from Corrie. She’s very much like me, very bubbly and fun, and I think we’d make a pretty good team! What say you Catherine?”

“Absolutely, Abby’s a lovely girl and I’m very glad to be paired with her”, Catherine smiled. “Win or lose, we’re gonna have a good time here. I hope we win though, so that I can donate the money to KidsCan.”

“So you’re both up for getting messy?”

“Yep! Call me a crazy lass, but I’m looking forward to it!”, revealed Abby with a grin. “I always enjoyed watching messy shows while growing up, and wanted to have a go myself. Myleene, I remember watching your Comic Relief gunging when I was 8 years old. It was awesome!”

“Oh, I’m glad you enjoyed it”, smiled Myleene bemusedly.

“And you, Catherine?”, enquired Mel.

“Perhaps not as enthusiastic as Abby, but I’m willing to give it a go.”

“Well, you can give it a go right now”, grinned Mel, “because it’s time for Abby to answer questions on you!”

With a nervous smile, Catherine got up and went over to the tank. It was only when seated that she began to ponder whether it had been a mistake to expose so much cleavage.

Mel picked up the question card. “Ready Abby? Question 1: In Corrie, who plays Catherine’s onscreen mum, Stella Price?”

“I know this one, definitely”, answered a confident Abby. “It’s Michelle Collins.”

“Michelle Collins is the correct answer”, Mel confirmed. In the gunge tank Catherine clapped. “Question 2: Prior to being Eva, Catherine had a brief stint in Emmerdale as which character?”

“Oooh, I think it was Abi she played in Emmerdale”, Abby dredged her memory. “Not sure on the surname though, sorry!”

“Ain’t no surname, ain’t no good!”, shrugged Mel. “It was in fact Abi Peterson.” She turned to face the tank. “Catherine, we’ve got you something nice and organic to remind you of your time on Emmerdale!”

Catherine pulled a horrified face as the significance of Mel’s words sunk in. A second later, there was a mooing sound, and a fresh ‘cow pat’ dropped down from the ceiling of the tank, impacting with the top of Catherine’s head with a damp splat and settling there like a beret.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t real!”, Mel reassured Catherine, who prodded her fingers into the sloppy brown pancake with a look of disgust. “Question 3: In 2007, Catherine played the lead character Iris Moss in which BBC drama?”

Abby scratched her head. “I was a bit young to be watching dramas at that time”, she shook her head. “No idea!”

“The answer was Lilies”, Mel told her. Abby shrugged blankly. In the tank, Catherine threw up her arms in shook as a powerful jet of green foam (representing moss) sprayed up from the pie cannon outlet. The shot was powerful enough to dislodge the cow pat and send it tumbling down her back. After sitting stunned for a few seconds, she began to laugh and wiped the green foam from her face, leaving a halo around her hair.

“Question 4″, read Mel. “Catherine is now 10, in her teens she was 22. What am I talking about?”

“I think that was her waist size?”, answered an unsure Abby.

“You’re on the right track, but it was actually her dress size”, Mel informed her.

“Yeah, that’s what I meant…”, insisted Abby.

“I have take the answer you say, I’m afraid”, shrugged Mel. This led to some shouts of protest from the audience, especially from Abby’s siblings. Catherine made a very animated, but muted, appeal from inside the chamber. “Let Abby have it!”, she mouthed.

“What’s that Catherine?”, Mel mockingly put her hand to her ear. “Did you say ‘let me have it’? Okey dokey!”

Catherine’s protests ended with a silent scream as she was engulfed by a deluge of gunge from either side, covering her hair, arms and chest. One boob was now orange, and the other purple, and both bounced up and down as Catherine’s body shook at the sensation.

“Never mind Abby! Maybe you can do better with Question 5: Catherine is an accomplished choral singer. Which vocal range does she sing?”

“Now you’re testing me!”, Abby whistled. “I’ll have to guess… I’ll say soprano?”

Mel looked at the card. “Oh, I hate to do this, but the answer is mezzo-soprano. Sorry Abby! And even more sorry Catherine!”

The camera flashed back to the tank as a slimy Catherine awaited her latest punishment. At first nothing appeared to happen, giving the impression that the machine had failed, but then Catherine’s eyes and mouth widened in surprise. A second later she leapt to her feet. The audience began to hoot with laughter as they realised that yellow gunge was spraying straight out of the seat and up at the Coronation Street star’s legging-clad bottom!

Mel was struggling to contain her laughter. “Well, whatever Catherine’s choral range, I get the feeling that some high notes were echoing around that chamber!” Even Abby had to laugh as she looked around at her partner, who was bungling about in the tank.

“Catherine, please sit back down for the final question”, Mel instructed. Catherine gingerly obliged, only to shriek and leap up once more as the seat sprayer restarted. The audience were beside themselves with laughter.

Mel was still struggling to overcome her mirth as read out the final question. “Question Six: Catherine may be a good choice of partner, because she has… ha ha! Catherine behave yourself and sit down! Where was I? Catherine has good form when it comes to winning game shows. Earlier this year she scooped £10,000 for charity on which TV show?”

“Oh I remember this one”, said a relieved Abby. “All Star Family Fortunes.”

“That is correct. Catherine, you may now stand up and leave the tank!”

Catherine was eager to oblige, and stepped out of the tank, dripping with coloured gunge all over. “You’re a mean lady, Mel Sykes!”, she accused, but she laughed nonetheless, showing she was a good sport.

“Hey, don’t blame me!” Mel held up her hands. “Abby did this to you!”

“Yeah, sorry Catherine!”, Abby accepted a gooey hug from her partner as they were reunited at the sofa. “I screwed up there.”

“Hey, you did well”, Catherine insisted. “Those were hard questions.”

“Well Abby, you got two right, giving you 10 points”, Mel announced. “Let’s hope Catherine does better on the questions about you.”

Abby went into the chamber to complete the questionnaire, while Catherine tried to wring the worst of the mess from her hair.

“I mean, mezzo-soprano – you really expect her to get that?”, Catherine interrogated Mel, as she wiped gunge from her cleavage. “You should have at least made that question multiple choice.”

“Maybe, but if we give you a multiple choice question then we have to do it for all the other teams”, explained Mel. “We’ll consider it for the next episode. Anyway, looks likes Abby is ready, here we go! Question 1: How did Abby travel to school?

(a) Walk,
(b) bus,
or (c) parent/guardian’s car.”

“Well I guess her dad was too busy running the pub to drive her”, mused Catherine, as she wriggled on the sofa trying to get her gungy bottom comfortable. “So I reckon either walking or bus… I’m going to say that she walked.”

“Correct – she walked!”, nodded Mel, causing Catherine’s eyes to light up. “Question two: Does Abby get her five portions of fruit and veg a day?

(a) Yes, every day without fail.
(b) Normally she gets about 2 or 3.
(c) She can’t remember the last time she ate something green.”

“Well I can see from Abby’s glowing complexion that she’s a five-a-day girl, so (a)”, Catherine replied.

“Sadly not, she answered (b) – two or three a day”, Mel revealed. “Eat your greens, Abby!”

Abby tensed her body, a look of squeamish excitement on her face as vegetable soup sprayed up at her from the two lower-front corners of the tank. Her T-shirt quickly became soaked, bringing out more of the shape of her dainty bust, and her face was plastered with bits of leek, cabbage and carrot. She wiped some of the bits away and laughed.

“To be honest, I think her complexion comes from the tanning shops of Preston”, Mel whispered to Catherine. “Question 3: Which would Abby rather listen to…

(a) Madonna,
(b) Metallica,
or (c) Mozart?”

“Maybe I’m wrong, but I can’t really imagine Abby moshing to Metallica”, Catherine pondered, “and seeing as she doesn’t know her mezzo-soprano from her contralto, I don’t think she’s into classical either. So I’ll go for classic pop with Madonna, (a).”

“(a) is what Abby put”, nodded Mel.

“I don’t really like any of them”, mouthed Abby from the tank.

“Question 4″, read Mel. “If Abby could have her life dramatised in a form of media, which would she choose?

(a) A novel,
(b) a film,
or (c) a computer game?”

“Oh a film, definitely”, answered Catherine, before adding with a flourish, “and she’d want yours truly to play her.”

“Well I’m not sure about her casting preferences, but a film is what she chose – right again!” Mel looked disappointed that Abby was not getting messier. Abby looked more disappointed still.

“On to Question 5, the moral dilemma question: Suppose Abby and a female friend both have a crush on the same guy. One day said guy approaches Abby and reveals that he is attracted to the friend, and he wants to know how the friend feels about him. Does Abby…

(a) admit, with a heavy heart, that the friend feels the same away about him,
(b) lie and say that the friend isn’t interested in him, while also fibbing that the friend has flatulence and false teeth,
or (c) throw herself at him and let her tongue do the talking?”

“This is a tricky one.” Catherine slicked back her slime-saturated hair and thought hard. “Well it’s not nice to lie, so Abby wouldn’t chose (b)… but passion ain’t no crime, so I’ll go for (c).”

A satisfied smile replaced the disappointment on Mel’s face, and Catherine knew that she’d got it wrong. “Actually, Abby would be a loyal friend and pick option (a)”, Mel informed her. “But you know, there’s no better cure for unrequited love than a cold shower…”

With that, a showerhead opened above Abby, causing dozens of rivulets of bright blue gunge to rain down on her. Mel hadn’t lied about the temperature, and Abby squeaked and spasmed between peals of laughter. Up in the audience, her sisters and brother laughed and cheered, enjoying the spectacle.

“Ok, one more question to go”, continued Mel, “and this is the question Abby doesn’t know about. You may not realise this Catherine, but Abby was already a TV star prior to appearing on this show, but unfortunately for the wrong reason. During her two seconds on screen, she managed to fall flat on her face in front of the nation. Where was she?

(a) In the crowd at the Leeds Festival,
(b) in her local church while Songs of Praise was being filmed.
or (c) in the stands supporting Preston North End.”

“Ha ha, the thought of Abby falling flat on her face during Songs of Praise really tickles me”, chuckled Catherine. “But I don’t think even she could manage that, and even if she did they’d edit it out.” Catherine pondered a bit further, while Abby sat matting the blue slime through her flattened upstyle. “Well, I’ve heard she’s a passionate Preson fan, so I’m going to go for the football match (c).”

“You went for (c), the football match”, Mel paused for dramatic effect. “That’s correct! Well played, Catherine. Abby you may leave the isolation chamber.”

Abby opened the door, bluer than when she went in, and waved proudly to her siblings who cheered back. In a way she was disappointed to only get two forfeits, but she knew there would be other opportunities in the show to get messy. She went over to the sofa and gave Catherine a congratulatory hug.

“So Abby”, Mel prompted, “tell us more about your mishap at the football.”

“It was an epic game against local rivals Blackburn, and we went ahead in the 89^th minute”, explained Abby. “It should’ve been the proudest moment of my life when the camera chose me and my mates celebrating in the stands, but instead I lost my balance and tumbled over while on-screen!”

“Whoops!”, said Mel. “Hope you weren’t hurt.”

“Nope”, Abby reassured her. “Just very embarrassed. It’s become a YouTube hit too!”

“Well don’t go overboard this time, Abby, because you and Catherine have cause for a small celebration”, Mel announced. “Catherine racked up 4 correct answers, which when added to your 2, gives you 30 points – enough to guarantee you a place in the next round!”

Abby and Catherine pumped their fists as the audience cheered. Mei-Ling, Myleene and Rachael clapped politely; Kelly was still AWOL.

“Despair not, Reds and Yellows, there are still five teams left to have their turn, and we’ll be meeting the next pair of challengers very shortly. Stay with us folks!”

Hello again.

Round two is upon us and the first round survivors are duking it out again for supremecy (and to get gunged, lets not forget that). To most of you this should be the first chance to see if your favourite has made it through, at least the first half of the results. Due to technical limitations, the second half will be ready for next week.

Anyway, By the time you see this, the polls go live just after midnight (Tuesday morning right?), so you don’t have to wait long to vote.

And without further ado, here are the votes:

1. Mary Elizabeth Winstead vs. Lee McKenzie
2. Susie Dent vs. Charlize Theron
3. Charlotte Cooper vs. Chelsea Kane
4. Gemma Smallpage vs. Nina Dobrev
5. Liv Boeree vs. Laura Trott
6. Gemma Atkinson vs. AnnaSophia Robb
7. Kate Middleton vs. Mellisa Clarke
8. Emma Stone vs. Jessica Alba
9. Lucy Liu vs. Millie Mackintosh
10. Joanna ‘JoJo’ Levesque vs. Margarita Levieva
11. Charley Webb vs. Helen Flanagan
12. Laura Hamilton vs. Emily Deschanel
13. Jennifer Aniston vs. Maria Brink
14. Emma Bunton vs. Kristen Stewart
15. Beth Phoenix vs. Georgia May Foote
16. Rosie Jones vs. Taylor Momsen
17. Chase Masterson vs. Alison Brie
18. Karen Gillan vs. Marion Cotillard
19. Rebecca Adlington vs. Stephanie McMahon
20. Rachel McAdams vs. Michelle Keegan
21. Olivia Wilde vs. Emilia Clarke
22. Sarah Chalke vs. Jade Jones
23. Emilie de Ravin vs. Lauren Harris
24. Erin Simpson vs. Miriam Leone
25. Anna Kendrick vs. Kym Marsh
26. Blake Lively vs. Tina O’Brien
27. Erica Durance vs. Kimberley Walsh
28. Sienna Miller vs. Rhiannon Fish
29. Jessica Ennis vs. Scarlett Johansson
30. Maggie Grace vs. Louise Brealey
31. Anna Chlumsky vs. Krysten Ritter
32. Marina Berry vs. Christina Aguilera
33. Camilla Luddington vs. Miley Cyrus
34. Helen Skelton vs. Taylor Swift
35. Christine Taylor vs. Kirstie Allsopp
36. Audrey Tautou vs. AJ Lee
37. Hannah Simone vs. Felicity Jones
38. Katy Perry vs. Natalie Sawyer
39. Jameela Jamil vs. Lisa Snowdon
40. Gillian Jacobs vs. Sola Aoi
41. Courtney Ford vs. Cote de Pablo
42. Ashleigh Brewer vs. Catherine Tyldesley
43. Millie Clode vs. Teresa Palmer
44. Becki Newton vs. Keira Knightley
45. Laura Vandervoort vs. Jenna Fischer
46. Isla Fisher vs. Laura Whitmore
47. Grainne Seoige vs. Amanda Holden
48. Taeler Hendrix vs. Evan Rachel Wood
49. Jennifer Lopez vs. Kirsten Dunst
50. Demi Lovato vs. Rachel Stevens
51. Dianna Agron vs. Sheridan Smith
52. Stacy Keibler vs. Georgia Moffett
53. Angelina Jolie vs. Heather Morris
54. Eve Torres vs. Taylor Jardine
55. Caroline Wozniacki vs. Tulisa
56. Danica Patrick vs. Amy Adams
57. Billie Piper vs. Megan Fox
58. Alessia Fabiani vs. Sierra Kusterbeck
59. Michelle Trachtenberg vs. Lucy Lawless
60. Nicola Peltz vs. Christina Hendricks
61. Emily Atack vs. Amber Heard
62. Marley Shelton vs. Zoe Salmon
63. Elisha Cuthbert vs. Maria Sharapova
64. Victoria Pendleton vs. Suzi Perry

So have fun (or you know, the usual).

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.

The 5 girls all knew each other. They were chatting away quite amicably, although I wasn’t listening, so I couldn’t really tell you what it was about. The laughter was infectious though, as I studied the girls collectively known as The Saturdays.

They weren’t on that bench, of course, that’s just some picture I could find, but it does illustrate nicely the 5 girls.

Going from left to right, we have: -

Vanessa White

Mollie King

Una Healy

Frankie Sanford

Rochelle Humes

There was some sort of sparkle over the girls, like they weren’t really there, or that one of them wasn’t as pregnant as she made out, with another a new mother. No, these were 5 young British ladies in the prime of their lives.

I looked at the empty meter behind me, hidden from the girls’ view, observing where they had to get to. I try to remember if there should be 3 waves or 4, but shrug my shoulders and just go with it.

I got inspired to write this when I saw one of the polls from next week’s vote (you’ll know it when you see it). Just to recap the basics: You have the usual one vote, with whoever gets above a certain percentage getting the gunge. The poll will close whenever I feel like closing it (but probably before Saturday), so vote early to avoid disappointment.

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.

“Miss Stanley, you’re up in three minutes.”

Caroline nodded in acknowledgement to the stagehand, and straightened out her bright green crop top and shorts. On the TV screen in front of her, Kelly Clarkson had returned to the platform with the director, and they were in discussion with Mel Sykes.

“So you’re up next, are ya?”, enquired the blonde sitting next to her, who was wearing the same outfit as her, but in a light blue colour.

Caroline nodded and smiled nervously.

“Think you’re gonna do well?”, The blonde asked. Her voice was agitated and had a strong West Country accent.

Caroline shook her head. “I think I’m going to do very badly with the questions”, she replied with clipped BBC vowels. “But in a way that’s a good thing, because it’ll mean my celebrity gets gunged.”

“Why’s that a good thing?”, asked the blonde.

“I am not really a fan of hers, you see”, Caroline smirked.

“Oh.” The blonde turned away, slightly confused. Caroline returned her attention to the TV screen. She was sitting in a waiting lounge with the other four remaining contestants (plus a couple of reserves, just in case…). She was a slim girl, 5 ft 7, with long legs, well-defined hips, a flat tummy and a small but perky bust. Her mid-brunette hair was pulled sharply back from her scalp into a long ponytail. She had hazel eyes and a small mouth that seemed set in a permanent pout. As she watched a fed-up looking Kelly squelch back to the yellow sofa, she felt a tap on her shoulder.

It was the blonde again, in a state of increasing agitation. “Tell you what, this show is proper messy, init!?”, she exclaimed.

“Uh yeah, mess is one of the central themes of the show”, confirmed Caroline, “as evidenced by the title.”

“I never knew it were gonna be messy.” The blonde’s blue eyes were wide with fright. “To tell you the truth I ain’t too keen. I only wrote in cos I’ve always wanted to meet Pi…”

“Miss Stanley, you’re on in thirty seconds”, the stagehand called. “Please come with me.”

Caroline hastily bade the babbling blonde goodbye, and followed the crew member out of the lounge and down a corridor, until she was stood just inside the mouth of the star-shaped entrance to the studio.

“When I say ‘walk’, you walk, ok?”, instructed the stagehand.

Caroline nodded, feeling a flutter of nerves in her stomach, as she peered out at the packed spectator stands. Her eyes quickly found Vicki and Rebecca at the front of the lower tier. In front of them they had placed a banner that read “TIME TO TASTE THE SLOP CAZ!!!”.

Mel’s voice echoed into the corridor. “Please put your hands together for the Green Team: Caroline Stanley and Emma Watson!”

“WALK!!”

Caroline gulped as she stepped out of the star-shaped opening into the glare of the spotlights and the din of applause. With so many disorientating distractions surrounding her, and her legs unsteady with nerves, walking down the stairs was far from an easy task. Looking across, she spotted Emma Watson descending the opposite staircase, her red-lipsticked lips smiling confidently to the cheering masses. Like Caroline, Emma had gone for the crop top, but had chosen the full-length leggings instead of the shorts.

As the pair hugged at the bottom of the stairs, Caroline felt distinctly awkward. Despite talking with Emma for over an hour at the welcome reception, she hadn’t found the courage to tell Emma the real reason she had nominated her. She knew that would soon change in Mel’s interview session.

“That’s it – take a seat on the green sofa, you two.” Mel went and seated herself in her armchair. “Now then Caroline, you’re 23 years old, same age as Emma, and you’re a canoeing instructor from Bristol. Is that good fun?”

“Yes, I love outdoor pursuits and it’s very satisfying to help other people get into them”, smiled Caroline. “And there’s a great camaraderie with the other instructors too – lots of banter, practical jokes and the like.”

“And I believe you’ve brought along a couple of your fellow instructors tonight…”

“Yes, that’s right. Vicki and Rebecca, who are my flatmates as well as my colleagues, have come along to give me some moral support”, Caroline indicated the pair in the front row. To bask in my downfall, more like, she thought as she reread their taunting banner.

Mel continued to read from the card. “Caroline lists her hobbies as canoeing, swimming (presumably when the canoeing goes wrong), dancing and reading. Any reading material in particular?”

“The classics”, replied Caroline edgily.

“Which brings us nicely to you Emma, would you like to know what Caroline said about you on her application form?”

“Sure!”, beamed Emma, while Caroline looked awkwardly at her feet

“Now, you’ll remember that Mei-Ling called Myleene a ‘role-model’, Rachael labelled Kelly an ‘inspiration’, and Abby said that Catherine is ‘bubbly and fun’”, Mel recapped. “Caroline, on the other hand, wrote this: I’d like to bring Emma Watson onto the show, because Harry Potter is awful literature, and the films were even worse than the books.”

There were gasps and boos from around the hall, but also murmurs of agreement. Emma feigned a look of horror.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Caroline?”

Caroline could feel her cheeks burning. Face to face with Emma on-stage, she was not as confident in her assertions as when she had filled in the form. But she knew she had to stand her ground. “Look, if the other contestants want to adorn their celebs with sycophantic adulation then that’s their choice”, she blurted. “But it’s not mandated in the rules!”

“You what?” Mel pulled a perplexed face. “Emma, she uses big fancy words; no wonder she doesn’t like Harry Potter!”

“Yeah, one of the War and Peace crowd”, Emma rolled her eyes. “I get this all the time”.

“You know Emma, I’m not the cynical type”, Mel conjectured, “but reading between the lines, I’d say that Caroline wants to put you in your place by making you messy!”

Caroline neither confirmed nor denied this accusation.

“If Caroline wants to embarrass me, then she’s welcome to try, but she could find her little plan backfiring and end up embarrassed herself”, Emma smirked. “I got slimed before, once upon a time, so I have an idea what to expect. I’m just going to have fun, do as well I can for my chosen charity ShelterBox, and who knows, maybe by the end of our time together, I’ll have convinced Caroline of the merits of Harry Potter.” With that she got up and made her way over to the isolation chamber.

“Don’t be so sure of that!”, Caroline called after her, secretly relieved that Emma was taking her criticism with good humour.

“Just remember, Caroline – you may feel tempted to give a Emma a pasting by answering the questions badly, but it could lead to both of you taking the elimination ride, and believe me, you wouldn’t want that, so be careful what you wish for”, Mel warned. “Ok, Question 1: What is the name of Emma’s character in Harry Potter?”

“It pains me to know it”, conceded Caroline, “but it’s Hermione Granger.”

“I reckon she’s really a secret Harry Potter fan”, Mel winked to the audience. “Hermione Granger is of course correct. Question 2: In which city was Emma born?

“Hmmm, I think she was born in France”, Caroline recalled, “so it’s probably Paris.”

“It is indeed Paris”, Mel confirmed. In the tank, Emma looked pleasantly surprised; maybe Caroline wouldn’t be so bad to work with after all.

“Question 3: Name one of Emma’s middle names.”

“One of? I didn’t know she had more than one.” Caroline scratched her head. “I’m not at all sure on this one, but I think maybe Jane.”

“Nope, it ain’t Jane. You could have had Charlotte or…”, Mel’s brow furrowed as she squinted at her question card “…Duh.”

“It’s Deurre”, Emma sighed to herself, before being engulfed by a tricolore of blue, white and red gunge. She screamed at the sensation of the cold gunk running through her hair and lapping against the sensitive skin of her bare lower torso. Then, as the deluge slowed to a trickle, she screwed up her nose and looked around in puzzlement.

“Yes, we added some garlic to the gunge to remind you of your birthplace!”, explained Mel with a chuckle. “Question 4: which Harry Potter book has Emma said is her fave?”

“As someone who has no interest in Harry Potter, I really don’t know”, Caroline snootily declared. “But let me have a guess. Either that first one… what was it called? The Philosopher’s Stone, or maybe that the one about the goblet… the Goblet of Fire?”

“Make your choice”, Mel impatiently prompted.

“The Goblet of Fire?”

“According to Emma’s bio on IMDB (yes, we leave no stone unturned on this show), her favourite is Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.” Mel revealed. “A little something for our prisoner…?”

A blue, white and red Emma looked far from agreement with IMDB’s wisdom, but since Caroline had got it wrong anyway there was nothing to gain by arguing. Presently she yelped as some pink slush spewed out of the pie cannon and plastered her face and front.

“Question 5″, continued Mel. “What is the name of the FairTrade clothing range that Emma helped to design?”

Caroline shrugged blankly. “Not. A. Clue.”

“The answer is People Tree.”

Still recovering from the pink foam in the face, Emma shrieked as several black fountains erupted around her. The smell was unmistakable. “COFFEE!?”, she mouthed.

“Not just any coffee – FairTrade coffee”, smiled Mel. “Funny, I thought we were going to use FairTrade chocolate…”

Emma squealed anew as melted chocolate rained down on her, Picnic advert style. By now there was no trace left of her green crop top, nor of her hair.

“Ah, there it is!”, Mel noted with satisfaction. “Can things get any worse for Emma? Let’s find out with the final question: Emma stars as the character Ila in the upcoming film Noah. Which actor plays the titular role?”

“Again, I’m really not sure”, admitted Caroline. “Er, picking an actor at random… Ewan MacGregor?”

“The correct answer is Russell Crowe”, Mel told her.

Emma really shouldn’t have been surprised when piles of black feathers blew out of several fans, sticking to all the mess that already covered her. She stepped out of the tank, feigning an unamused look as she stood with the audience laughing and applauding, then walked up behind the sofa and put Caroline in a playful headlock.

“A good start, but a rather messy ending”, commented Mel. “Caroline, you got two questions right, giving you 10 points. Now Emma, it’s time for a little revenge, wouldn’t you say?”

“Oh, I’d say!” Emma pulled Caroline to her feet.

“Emma, I’d just like to say that I really did try to get those questions right”, Caroline worriedly insisted. “And even though I’m not a fan of Harry Potter per se, I do think you’re a very talented actress!”

“Oh, it’s far too late to sweet-talk me”, Emma purred. “Get in that tank!”

Caroline obliged and began filling out the questionnaire, while Emma slicked her hair back, squeezing out the worst of the mess. “Garlic and chocolate really don’t go together”, she grumbled.

Caroline soon completed the questionnaire and Mel could begin with the questions. “Ok Emma, question 1: In her school nativity play, did Caroline play…

(a) Mary,
(b) a shepherd or wise king,
or (c) the ass?”

“Oh, it’s so tempting to choose (c), because Caroline would have made effortless work of playing the ass!”, Emma grinned, to laughter from the audience, while Caroline frowned sourly, “but I think (b) is more likely.”

“You were right to resist the temptation, because (b) is the correct answer”, Mel revealed. “Question 2. Caroline’s preferred date would be…

(a) Harry Styles,
(b) Harry Judd,
or (c) Prince Harry?”

“Well… given Caroline’s elitist streak”, Emma reasoned, “I think she would aim for royalty, so (c).”

“Prince Harry is indeed the answer”, Mel told her, “so Caroline escapes again.”

In the tank, Caroline ventured a cautious smile, while in the audience, Vicki and Rebecca looked disappointed.

“Question 3:”, read Mel. “If Caroline could have a skill magically transferred to her brain, would she choose…

(a) to become a virtuoso player of a musical instrument,
(b) to become fluent in a foreign language,
or (c) to become an ace at a sport?”

“Hmmm… Caroline’s already quite sporty, so I think (c) would be wasted on her”, Emma determined. “I think she’d like to show off by speaking a foreign language, so (b).”

The dreading look on Caroline’s face told the audience that Emma had got it wrong, a fact Mel soon confirmed. “Actually, Caroline would like to play a musical instrument. Emma, I think you’re going to enjoy this…”

Caroline shrieked as she was assailed by blue and yellow gunge that erupted from two outlets in the ceiling. Emma turned around and grinned as she watched the girl squirm under the cold torrents. Vicki and Rebecca cheered and laughed heartily. The gunge covered Caroline’s pulled-back hair and dripped from her ponytail.

“Ah, that’s more like it! Question 4: Caroline would rather listen to…

(a) Green Day,
(b) The White Stripes,
or (c) Pink Floyd?”

“With Caroline’s esoteric and pretentious tastes, it’ll have to be Pink Floyd”, answered Emma confidently.

“Actually, no – she went for the White Stripes”, Mel informed Emma. “And it’s only fair to give Caroline a bit of what she likes…”

To Caroline’s consternation, a paint roller approached her, spinning rapidly on the end of a robotic arm. The roller made contact with Caroline’s tummy just below her naval, and then began making it’s way up her body, leaving behind a stripe of brilliant white. Caroline tried to wriggle backwards on the seat, but the roller simply followed her. It continued upwards, intrusively pressing down on the crop top between her breasts, then onwards past her collarbones, up her neck and flicking over her chin, and finally painted over her spluttering face. The roller contracted, leaving a shocked Caroline with a perfect vertical stripe up her body.

“Fair enough, but I’m sure she does like Pink Floyd too”, Emma flashed Mel a wink.

“Yeah, I reckon so”, Mel replied.

The pie cannon let rip with another round of pink goo, covering over much of the white stripe on the front of a stunned Caroline.

“And probably she likes Green Day as well”, Emma ventured with a smirk.

Caroline’s mouth was seen to widen on her pink- and white-covered face. A second later she leapt to her feet; the seat squirter was back in action, firing green slime up at her shorts and thighs. She tried to run forwards to escape it, but slipped over on her the floor of the tank. Her rump fell back to the seat with a thud, causing the pressurised jet of goo to splurt everywhere. Gales of laughter swept the studio, and Rebecca and Vicki were in uncontrollable tears. Emma was loving her revenge.

“Oh, she’ll think twice before slagging you off again, won’t she!?”, guffawed Mel. “Question 5, the moral dilemma: Suppose Caroline is in the library and sees her friend using a computer. She goes over and they chat for a while, then the friend realises she is late for an appointment and leaves in a hurry. Caroline sees that the friend has the left the computer logged into Facebook. Does Caroline…

(a) make humorous alterations to her friend’s status, relationship and sexual orientation,
(b) look through her friend’s private message, to see what her friend is saying about her,
or (c) dutifully log out straight away.”

“Caroline mentioned that she liked practical jokes”, Emma recalled, “and even the most saintly among us can’t resist making a few comical alterations to a friend’s status, so I reckon (a).”

“That is correct”, nodded Mel.

Still in shock from her previous drubbing, a slimy Caroline barely registered her victory.

“And finally, the embarrassing story question, kindly provided by Vicki and Rebecca”, Mel announced. The camera flashed to Caroline’s colleagues-cum-flatmates, who still had tears of laughter rolling down their cheeks. “Caroline was recently in charge of a stag party who came for a canoeing trip…”

In the tank, Caroline slowly shook her head as she realised what the story was, and pointed a gunge-covered finger of vengeance at her chortling friends.

“…so she was doing a warm-up demonstration and she really wanted to impress all these guys – Hey boys, fancy a ride in my canoe?”, Mel impersonated, “when what embarrassing mishap occurred?

(a) She stumbled off a jetty and fell in the lake,
(b) a large bird poo hit her smack in the forehead,
or (c) she snagged her shorts on a mooring post, causing them to tear open and reveal her knickers.”

Emma thought hard. “The short-snagging story doesn’t sound very plausible… but falling in the lake sounds too obvious… so I reckon it’s the bird poo, (b).”

“You should have gone with the obvious, Emma. It was (a) – she fell in!”

A massive amount of duckweed was dumped on Caroline, making her groan with disgust. In the audience, Rebecca and Vicki were rolling about in hysterics. Caroline stepped out of the chamber, looking like a swamp monster. Her pony tail was lost somewhere under the gunge and draped weeds.

“Caroline, may I ask, was there a similar amount of pond weed when you fell in?”, Mel enquired.

“Not quite this bad”, Caroline replied sourly, as she sat peeling off pieces of weed, the continued laughter of her colleagues ringing in her ears. “But I did manage to fall in the smelliest, most stagnant part of the lake!”

“And did you manage to pull any of the guys on the stag party?”

“No.”

“We did!”, cheered Vicki and Rebecca.

“Well Emma, you got your revenge very nicely there, but you also managed to do slightly better than Caroline”, Mel summarised. “You got three questions right, which when added to Caroline’s two gives you both 25 points.”

“Which means we have quite a crowd forming at the bottom of the table”, Mel noted, looking slightly perturbed at this outcome. “Will there be a big audience vote to decide who goes out, or will one of our remaining four contestants fall short? Stay tuned to find out!!”

Reposted from the Messy Scenes Blog, here some scenes from the “Gatarinpikku” games, some of which look quite rough (notice that girl at 30 seconds has a tooth missing? Since when, I wonder…). As is tradition, the news station sends a reporter to take part in the fun, and she ends up nicely caked in the mud.

This is the first post in a new series that I’ve been thinking about doing for a while. I am going to look back at some of my favourite WAM stories, old and new, especially those that I consider influential on my own writing or my view of WAM in general. I’d like to invite other authors to post in this series too, because I think it would be a good way to highlight hidden-away gems that others may not be aware of, and it may even help us get to the bottom of what makes good WAM literature.

I’m going to start the series with the first WAM story I remember reading – The Gunge Booth, written by Oliver. The link points to the version hosted on Shokolada’s Mess, but I first came across the story on WamMonkey, and it was a fortuitous starting point for me to stumble upon. Straightforward and simple, grounded in realism and moderation, this story is like the vanilla ice cream or ready salted crisps of the WAM literature world. It’s sexually suggestive, but it’s not hardcore supersex. There’s playful teasing, but no crushing humiliation. Things get nicely messy, but there’s no gungy apocalypse of ludicrous proportions. It has some believable characters, but no fiendishly complex plot. It’s the kind of story that could plausibly happen in real life, and if it did then it would be legal, ethical and safe. It’s about as normal as a WAM story can be before it ceases to be a WAM story. Had the first ever WAM story I chanced upon been of the more extreme variety (i.e. the kind of stuff I now regularly write myself!) then I may well have recoiled and hurriedly closed the browser, never to look at WAM literature again. Fortunately it didn’t happen that way, and I have this story to thank for easing me in gently. But you shouldn’t be under the impression that this story is generic or unimaginative; it certainly isn’t. It has a lot of subtle originality, as I shall try to outline.

The story centres around a familiar mechanism – called a “gunge booth”, but in essence a rudimentary gunge tank with manual delivery – and a standard premise, namely a charity fundraiser. It is told in the first person perspective of a (presumably) male character, and tells of his experience of setting up the booth, pouring purple gunge all over a young lady named Sarah, and then hosing her down.

The story spends a considerable amount of time describing the preparation and run-up to the event, providing a sense of building anticipation. Indeed the reader may become quite impatient ploughing through this part of the story, mirroring the narrating character’s impatience to gunge these girls.

When the victim Sarah is finally introduced, the story covers many of the important aspects, such as attire (smart casual is always a hit, and although a roll-neck would not be my first choice, I know it is a fave for some) and manner (again, nervous cowering is always a winner). The initial description of her physical appearance is quite vague, but we get many further hints scattered throughout the story.

The description of the gunging takes full advantage of the pourer’s viewpoint from above the victim, giving us a refreshing alternative to the normal front-on perspective of a gunging. As such, we are treated to an uncommonly detailed description of the coverage of the mid and lower body. In fact, the hair and head, usually the focus, receive the least attention.

Sarah let out a squeal and hung her head, trying to cover her eyes with hands. As I poured the purple goo started to flow all over her lovely hair and splattered onto her shoulders. She had rather ample breasts, which I had a nice ‘birds-eye’ view of from above. Her smart roll- neck jumper wasn’t doing much to conceal them so I made sure the flow of slop slowly ran down over them, forming a large puddle of creamy gunge on her stomach and lap. [...] As you can imagine a lady wearing a short skirt and tights, when sat down reveals a lot of leg! This was just where the final mass of gunge was headed. Reaching over the booth I managed to dispose of the last dollops of purple mess over her shapely legs, moving the flow of gloop from skirt to knee. I have to admit that the look of runny purple gunge oozing all over her tights and down onto her neat shoes turned me on a great deal.

Another departure from the norm is the inclusion of the clean-up. Normally a story ends with the victim in a state of maximum mess, either being carted unceremoniously off-stage or left in view to fester. The meaner amongst us are left entertaining the thought of a humiliating walk home covered in slop. However, in this story, helping Sarah get clean again is “half the fun”. A keenness for wetlook on the part of the author/narrator is clearly demonstrated. Indeed, the wash-down is where the narrator becomes his most teasing and intimate with Sarah.

Which brings us on to another interesting element: the involvement of the narrator’s girlfriend, Jessica. She not only suggests the gunging, but plays an active role in providing the all-female line-up of victims, despite (it is implied) knowing of her boyfriend’s fetish. The notion of a partner being happy with and even encouraging such goings-on is, I’m sure, very appealing to many male readers. However, her accommodating attitude has its limits, and by the end of the story her jealousy mounts as the narrator takes things a little too far with Sarah – again, a thought that will appeal to many!

Although Sarah is reluctant to begin with, and gently teased throughout, the story is at pains to indicate that she ultimately enjoyed the experience. The good-humoured nature of the gunging is also emphasised, and the story even ends with congratulations for Sarah being a good sport. “Well done Sarah!”

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.

“Welcome back to Match & Mess, where we’re halfway through the first round”, Melanie Sykes announced. “So far the Dark Blue Team have 30 points, while the Reds, Yellows and Greens are all tied on 25. Let’s see how the next contenders fare. A big round of applause please for the Sky Blue Team: Joanna Linden and Pixie Lott!”

The audience cheered as the two young ladies appeared in their respective doorways. Caroline recognised Joanna as the West Country girl who had struck up conversation with her earlier. Joanna was a tall girl, standing a good 5 ft 9, and was large-framed, though nonetheless lean and trim. She was also decidedly large in the chest department, cutting at least an E if not an F, and the production team had struggled to find a crop top big enough to contain her womanly assets. For her lower half she had opted for the shorts. Her hair was long, straight and champagne blonde, and her eyes were an icy blue that matched her crop top. Already fair-skinned by nature, she presently bore an additional pallor, along with a worried look on her face.

Pixie, by contrast, was looked more relaxed and confident. Like Joanna, she had chosen the crop top and shorts combo, and her figure looked fabulous as she breezed down the staircase. Sensing Joanna’s unease, she gave the girl a supportive hug and some words of encouragement. The pair went through the usual greeting with Mel, and seated themselves on the light blue sofa.

“Welcome, both of you”, Mel reassumed her place in the armchair and took out her information card. “Now then Joanna, you’re aged 22, and strangely enough (given that we’ve already had Abby who was born on Christmas Eve), you were born on Christmas Day. Do you find that a good or bad thing?”

“A good thing, on the whole”, smiled Joanna. “It means I’m always off work on my birthday and can have a proper booze-up with the family.”

“And I believe you’ve brought said family along with you”, Mel noted. “Could you point them out for us?”

“Yep, they’ve all come”, Joanna pointed proudly to halfway up the lower tier. “My mum, my dad, my brother and my two sisters.”

The camera panned over to the Linden family. Mrs Linden looked just like Joanna, only fast-forwarded by a quarter-century. She had the same champagne blonde hair and Nordic blue eyes, but the porcelain skin was lined, the large frame filled out, the hefty busom ravaged by gravity. Realising the camera was on her, she waved her arms manically in the air and bellowed “go Jo go!”.

Mr Linden, by contrast, barely acknowledged Joanna’s shoutout. A bald man with a greying moustache, he sat frowning with his arms folded, smouldering with resentment that yet another precious day of his holiday allowance was being wasted in the name of “Pixie Friggin’ Lott”. He had had more than his fill of carting Joanna around to concerts and talent shows, and the only thing that had persuaded him to attend Match & Mess was the £10,000 on offer (Joanna was heavily in arrears to the Bank of Mum and Dad).

Mel continued to scan down the information card. “Joanna hails from Taunton in Somerset, she’s a waitress, and her extensive list of hobbies and interests comprises of… wait for it… clubbing.” Mel lowered the card. “Is that it?!”

“Oh, and Pixie Lott, of course!” Joanna gazed in wonderment at her partner. “I’m her biggest fan in the South West, if not the whole of England! Look!”

Joanna triumphantly raised her left hand, revealing on the underside of her wrist a tattoo, composed of the word “Pixie” and a crude illustration of a nondescript blonde woman.

“Oh Joanna, is that meant to be me?! That’s so er… lovely!”, Pixie forced herself to say. Joanna beamed with pride.

“Er yeah… great”, said Mel far less convincingly. “I have to say Pixie, Joanna is definitely a big fan of yours”, Mel pointed out. “Here’s what she wrote on her application form: I want to meet Pixie because she is my idol and I want to be like her. I think I have a lot of similarities to Pixie and I look proper like her.”

“Er yeah… you do look just like me!”, Pixie once again fibbed. “I can really see the resemblance.”

Joanna was in seventh heaven. “See, I told ya!”, she called up to her family.

“Indeed…” Mel exchanged a perturbed look with Pixie. “Of course, you and Pixie could become even harder to tell apart when the gunge starts flowing! How are you feeling about it?”

The reminder about gunge brought Joanna down from her high with a bump. “Ah… yeah… actually Mel, I wanna talk to you about that. You see, I ain’t at all keen on getting gunged…”

“Oh, what a pity…”, snarked Mel.

“…so is it ok if I skip the messy parts of the show and just do the clean bits?”

“Are you taking the…?”, Mel stopped herself just in time. “Sorry Joanna, but the show is all about getting messy, so you can’t avoid it.”

“But I only wrote in cos I wanted to meet Pixie Lott!”, protested Joanna, her voice starting to wobble. “I didn’t even know this show were gonna be messy!”

“When it’s called Match & Mess and the advert said it would be messy?” Mel was fast losing her patience.

“I only read the bit about meeting a celeb!”, protested Joanna. “Look, I don’t wanna go through with it, ok?!”

“Fine!” Mel threw her card to the floor in exasperation. “If you don’t want to take part, we’ll replace you with one of the reserves.” She looked around at the crew members. “Let’s get this idiot out of here and not waste any more time.”

Pixie tried to defuse the situation. “Tell you what Joanna”, she smiled sympathetically, “why don’t you and I spend the rest of the day hanging out together in Mossley? We can have coffee, go shopping… lots of girly things.”

“Yeah!” Joanna’s eyes lit up. “I’d proper love that!”

“She’s going nowhere; she’s playing the game!”, called a stern voice.

Heads turned to face Mr Linden, who remained sitting with arms folded. “You’re playing, Joanna”, he told her. “You really need that money.”

“Yeah, go on my love!”, called Mrs Linden. “You’ll proper enjoy it once you get going.”

Joanna’s brother and younger sister began making chicken noises.

“But Daddy, I don’t wanna…”, Joanna whined.

“Do you know how much petrol it takes to drive all the way up here?” Mr Linden was beginning to anger. “Not to mention the hotel bills! You made such a fuss about wanting to come on this show, you’re not gonna back out now, you hear me?”

“Alright! I’ll do it!”, Joanna sulked. Mr Linden settled back in his seat with his arms folded.

“All sorted? Good!” Mel picked up her card. “We can edit this bit out, can’t we?”, she checked with a crew member, before recomposing her sunny disposition. “Right then, let’s get started! Pixie, if you would like to make your way to the isolation chamber… oh, one final thing – your chosen charity?”

“BeatBullying“, replied Pixie, looking uneasy in the light of the coercion she had just witnessed, before taking her position in the tank.

“Right then, Joanna, here come the questions”, Mel commenced. “First up: Name either of Pixie’s albums.”

“Oh, I know this”, Joanna’s smile returned. “Turn It Up.”

“Turn it up is indeed correct”, confirmed Mel. “And you could also have had Young Foolish happy. Question 2: what is Pixie’s real first name?

“Victoria”, answered Joanna without hesitation. “Her real name is Victoria Louise Lott.”

“Again correct”, nodded Mel.

In the gunge tank, Pixie called out “well done Joanna!”, even though Joanna couldn’t see or hear her.

“Question 3: At the London Olympics, Pixie performed Kiss the Stars and Use Somebody at the men’s final of which sport?”

Joanna’s smile faded. “Sport ain’t really a thing of mine”, she shook her head, “but I reckon it were the one hundred metres.”

Mel shook her head. “The answer is gymnastics”, she revealed. “On your marks, set, GO!!”

A lemon-yellow batch of cream was launched from the pie cannon, exploding across Pixie’s front and face, causing her hair to whip back with the force, and making Pixie flinch in shock.

“Oh no! I’m sorry Pixie!”, cried Joanna, looking round. Pixie hurriedly wiped the yellow gunk from around her eyes and then gave Joanna a thumbs up to show that she was ok.

“Question 4″, read Mel. “Pixie made a guest appearance in which CBBC drama?”

After her confident start, Joanna was now flustered. “Byker Grove?”, she blurted.

“Byker Grove?!?”, Mel sneered incredulously. “No, the answer is Sadie J. But seeing as you mention the Grove, Pixie can have some Newcastle Brune Ale.”

Pixie screamed as a sticky black liquid erupted from the floor of the tank. Most of it was aimed low, coating her bare legs and spraying up her shorts, but some reached up to her torso and hair.

“Let’s see if you can do better with Question 5: Pixie features in the song We Own The Night, performed by which American artist?”

“Oh god, I read this once somewhere.” Joanna put her hands to her temples and closed her eyes. The audience could almost hear the cogs whirring under her blonde mane, and after some intense machinations, the following answer was retrieved:

“2 Chainz and Wiz Khlalifa.”

“Uh, no. It was Selena Gomez”, Mel informed her. “By the way, did you know that it is Selena’s ambition to be green-slimed…?”

That ambition was soon lived out by Pixie, as a deluge of Nickelodeon standard-issue slime came cascading down onto her head. A look of surprise was briefly seen on her yellow-coated face, before the slime umbrellaed and blocked the view. A second later, her head came into view again, this time with the slime running down her hair in all directions.

“Dear me, Joanna”, Mel sighed, “and I thought you were meant to be Pixie’s biggest fan!”

“I am, I am!”, insisted Joanna. “But my mind just this minute went proper blank!”

It’s been proper blank for a lot longer than that, Mel refrained from saying. “Ah well, that’s life. Let’s see if you can do better with Question 6: In a certain – ahem – ‘contest’ Pixie came No. 45 in 2010, No. 31 in 2011, No. 12 in 2012 and No. 7 in 2013. What ‘contest’ am I referring to?”

“Oh, oh… the FHM top 100 women”, blurted Joanna.

“The FHM 100 Sexiest Women in the World… yes, I’ll give you that, which means you have three correct answers – 15 points.”

There was applause as a green, black and yellow Pixie disembarked from the chamber. “Sorry Pixie!”, Joanna reiterated.

“Hey, you did well!”, Pixie assured as she sat down. She put an arm around Joanna, but then realised this was a bad idea as Joanna recoiled from the mess.

“Might as well get used to it, Joanna”, taunted Mel. “It’s your turn in the chamber!”

“Can I do it without the mess?”, pleaded Joanna. “I proper don’t wanna get covered!”

“No!”, snapped Mel. “We’ve already been through this!”

Pixie wore a pained expression. “How about if I go back in the tank and take the mess again?”, she suggested. “I don’t mind, and I’m sure the audience won’t mind, will you?”

The audience, on the whole, sounded pretty amenable to the idea of further mess for Pixie, but Mel was not swayed.

“It’s not up to them, it’s up to me”, she asserted. “If I let one contestant off the hook, they’ll all be demanding it.” She gritted her teeth and, in the most polite yet firm voice she could muster, instructed. “Now Joanna, we have a tight schedule to keep to, so please take yourself to the isolation chamber and fill in the questionnaire.”

Joanna reluctantly obeyed, while Pixie looked decidedly uncomfortable with the entire situation. Joanna’s dread mounted when she opened the door of the chamber and saw the carnage from the previous nine sessions. Although the floor had an inbuilt grille to allow drainage of the excess mess, and automatic wipers cleaned off the perspex walls between each session to maintain a good view, there was nonetheless a considerable amount of residue. The seat in particular was coated in assorted slush. Joanna gingerly squatted, trying to avoid her backside touching the seat. It proved a difficult position to maintain, especially while trying to fill in the touch screen questionnaire.

“Ok Pixie, you know how much Joanna wants to avoid this”, Mel reminded. “The responsibility rests on your shoulders to keep her clean.”

Pixie looked far from pleased at having the burden of blame shifted onto her, but had no option but to listen attentively as Mel commenced the questioning.

“Question 1: Which of these subjects did Joanna perform best in at school?

(a) maths,
(b) history,
or (c) design tech.”

“Joanna strikes me as a… erm… practical person”, Pixie decided, “so I’ll say (c) – design tech.”

In the tank, Joanna looked like she had seen a ghost. She bowed her head and wrapped her arms on top of it.

“The answer was (a) – maths”, Mel informed Pixie, who tutted and sighed. “Calculate this, Joanna!”

Joanna shrieked as red and green gunge sloshed outwards from either side of her. She kept her arms tightly wrapped around her hair, but it offered little protection against the powerful side surges, and soon the girl’s blonde locks were recoloured red and green.

“You ok, Joanna?”, Pixie looked round anxiously.

Joanna made no signal, and continued looking downwards, shaking at the sensation of her slimy coating.

Mel moved on to the next question. “Question 2: Joanna’s preferred hangover cure is…

(a) hair of the dog,
(b) a greasy fry-up,
or (c) not drinking too much in the first place?”

“I’d really like to say that Joanna doesn’t drink too much to begin with”, Pixie noted, “but she strikes me as a party girl so I’ll go with hair of the dog.”

Mel’s smirk made Pixie’s heart sink. “Actually, the fry-up is her weapon of choice. Do you know what my favourite part of a cooked breakfast is, Pixie?”

Pixie glumly shook her head.

“The beans!”

Upon hearing this, Joanna groaned with dread and cowered even further forwards. The chamber was ready for this, and responded with a powerful upsurge of baked beans from the floor in front of Joanna. Joanna squawked as her face and front were blasted with beans, causing her to rapidly recoil to an upright position, only to be greeted with some semi-set scrambled egg from above. She squirmed as beans and egg ran down her gargantuan cleavage.

“You really are letting her in for a pasting, Pixie!”, Mel tittered. “Question 3: Joanna prefers…

(a) dogs,
(b) cats,
or (c) she can’t stand either?”

Sweat was beginning to mix with the mess on Pixie’s brow as she felt the pressure. “I have the feeling that Joanna is… a… dog person”, she ventured.

“She is”, nodded Mel. Pixie exhaled with relief, and Joanna looked even more relieved.

“Question 4: In Joanna’s view, which of these locations would be the most romantic to watch the sunset with a lover?

(a) The top of the Eiffel Tower,
(b) a hillside overlooking a Scottish loch,
or (c) a secluded tropical beach.”

“The beach, with the waves gently lapping at their toes”, Pixie guessed, looking almost prayerful.

“Joanna said the beach”, confirmed Mel, while Pixie pumped her fist. “Question 5, the moral dilemma: Suppose that Joanna is at her boss’ housewarming party. She spills a glass of red wine, causing a stain on a brand new cream carpet. Does Joanna…

(a) own up immediately,
(b) surreptitiously move furniture to hide the stain,
or (c) add some white wine to the mix – after all, that’s what the old wives’ tale recommends?”

“Joanna strikes me as an honest girl, and someone who faces up to responsibility”, Pixie pondered. “So I reckon (a).”

The disappointed look on Mel’s face was met by a relieved one on Pixie’s. “(a) is indeed right – Joanna would own up. Which leads us to the embarrassing story. Now, Match and Mess isn’t Joanna’s first excursion into the public eye, and if she looks familiar to anyone it’s because she was a contestant on Britain’s Got the Voice Factor, on which she performed one of your songs, Pixie.”

“Oh that’s nice”, Pixie smiled weakly.

“It certainly wasn’t nice for anyone who watched it”, Mel rejoined with a chortle. “Joanna was booed off stage and got five ‘no’s from the celebrity judging panel, who made the following comments: Piers Morgan said ‘you sing like a hyena with bronchitis and dance like a rhino on laxatives’, David Beckham said ‘that was the worst singing I’ve ever heard’ (and he’s married to a Spice Girl), Richard Dawkins said ‘I now believe in Hell because I’ve just had a glimpse of it’, Katie Price said ‘nice boobs, shame about the brains’ (although I think there’s a strong case for pots and kettles to be made there), and Ed Balls said ‘Ed Balls’.”

As she listened to Mel recount her failings, the dripping Joanna sank lower and lower, in terms of both posture and morale. She was close to tears and thoroughly regretted signing up for the show.

“The question for you, Pixie, is which of your songs did Joanna massacre? Was it…

(a) Mama Do (Uh Oh, Uh Oh),
(b) Boys and…”

“Just hold it right there!”, Pixie snapped. “As a BeatBullying Ambassador, I can hold my silence no longer! You make poor Joanna go through with the messy parts of the game even though she doesn’t want to, you show her no leniency or sympathy, and to cap it all you humiliate her with a cheap anecdote about some nasty talent show!” Pixie pointed an accusing finger. “You, Mel Sykes, are a bully!”

Mel looked taken aback. “What are you talking about!? I didn’t force her to do anything. I just gave her the option to withdraw and she decided to continue! And I haven’t treated her any differently to the other contestants – it’s all just banter!”

“Banter’s one thing, but it should be obvious that it’s gone too far in this case”, Pixie crossed her arms. “I’m surprised at you Mel; you used to be really nice on that show with Des O’Connor!”

“I still am nice”, Mel insisted, “but rules are rules!” There were a few boos and hisses from the audience, and she realised that she could have a major rebellion on her hands if she didn’t nip it the bud. Defiant, she returned to her question card. “Which Pixie Lott song did Joanna make a complete hash of on Britain’s got the Voice Factor? Was it…?”

“Mel, I’m not playing!”, Pixie interrupted. “I won’t be complicit in bullying.” With that, she got up from the sofa and opened the door of the chamber. “Out you get, Joanna.” She extended an arm and Joanna readily accepted it, managing to raise a smile. The audience applauded her kind act of friendship.

“Cheer up, Joanna my love!”, called Mrs Linden. “Your singing weren’t that bad!” Mr Linden remained in the same position with his arms folded, an I-told-you-so look upon his face.

“You’ll lose a chance to get the points!”, Mel threatened, livid at this disobedience. Pixie paid no attention.

“Continue as normal, Mel”, the director spoke into Mel’s earpiece. “We’ll edit it.”

Mel turned to the camera and forced a smile. “Well, after that eventful round, I’m pleased to announce that Joanna and Pixie have done well enough to get through to the next round, with 30 points!”

The audience continued to cheer as the messy pair returned to the sofa with their arms around one another, while Mel received further information in her ear about how they were going to deal with Joanna…

Some Thanksgiving leftovers from last year that we missed. A great pieing, and I have to say I always enjoy seeing black women pied, because of the striking contrast of white cream on ebony skin.

Look’s like we’ve got something coming up next week too.

So the other part of round 2 is ready, and goes live Tuesday Midnight (should be tonight from where you’re reading – Hi future peeps). The usual 48(ish) hours apply, so make your vote and stick with it.

On another note, before I get to the votes, this part had me copying quotes from various people (I do bore easily of vote). It’d be fun to try and guess who said what without cheating. Some are easy, some less so. There’s 14 in all, see if you can get them all. The only clue I’m giving is that none of the quoters are eligble for the GGP.

Anyway, the thing you’re actually here for, the votes:

1. Kelly Clarkson vs. Jacqueline Jossa
2. Holly Willoughby vs. Samantha Barks
3. Jennifer Morrison vs. Zooey Deschanel
4. Miko vs. Autumn Reeser
5. Emilia Fox vs. Hayley Williams
6. Myleene Klass vs. Carly Rae Jepson
7. Kat Dennings vs. Cassadee Pope
8. Louise Thompson vs. Jane Levy
9. Layla vs. Ellen Page
10. Elizabeth Banks vs. Samia Ghadie
11. Frankie Sandford vs. Rachel Weisz
12. Natalie Dormer vs. Danielle Bux
13. Emma Watson vs. Charlie Webster
14. Anne Hathaway vs. Erin Karpluk
15. Olivia Munn vs. Lena Meyer-Landrut
16. Emily VanCamp vs. Ashley Greene
17. Diane Kruger vs. Helena Bonham Carter
18. Ashley Tisdale vs. Olivia Phyland
19. Kristin Kreuk vs. Lyndsy Fonseca
20. Emmy Rossum vs. Elizabeth Gillies
21. Jennifer Lawrence vs. Lea Michele
22. Yvonne Strahovski vs. Nikki Sanderson
23. Freya Mavor vs. Shakira
24. Mollie King vs. Una Healy
25. Lucy Pinder vs. Selena Gomez
26. Allison Scagliotti vs. Amanda Lamb
27. Hayden Panettiere vs. Lauren Laverne
28. Kristen Bell vs. Denise Van Outen
29. Nicole Scherzinger vs. Alyson Hannigan
30. Lisa Foiles vs. Ashley Argota
31. Jane Danson vs. Rosie Huntington-Whiteley
32. Charlotte Jackson vs. Vanessa Hudgens
33. Kelly Brook vs. Carrie Underwood
34. Lucy Verasamy vs. Sian Welby
35. Amelia Lily vs. Diana Vickers
36. Avril Lavigne vs. Aimee Teegarden
37. Natalie Portman vs. Trish Stratus
38. Katrina Bowden vs. Eliza Coupe
39. Anna Popplewell vs. Fearne Cotton
40. Lilah Parsons vs. Alexis Bledel
41. Kate Beckinsale vs. Cobie Smulders
42. Brooke Kinsella vs. Kate Upton
43. Heidi Range vs. Rachel Nichols
44. Beyonce Knowles vs. Naya Rivera
45. Emmanuelle Chriqui vs. Charlotte Church
46. Gemma Arterton vs. Kelsey Chow
47. Catriona Shearer vs. Nathalia Ramos
48. Ola Jordan vs. Hayley Mcqueen
49. Alex Jones vs. Britney Spears
50. Sarah Silverman vs. Bridgit Mendler
51. Rachel Riley vs. Jenna Louise Coleman
52. Amanda Seyfried vs. Giorgia Palmas
53. Mila Kunis vs. Jade Thirlwall
54. Perrie Edwards vs. Cher Lloyd
55. Minka Kelly vs. Pixie Lott
56. Zoë Ball vs. Candice Accola
57. Sammy Winward vs. Delta Goodrem
58. Jennifer Stone vs. Pippa Middleton
59. Sutton Foster vs. Dani Harmer
60. Skyler Samuels vs. Louisa Lytton
61. Kaley Cuoco vs. Nadia Giosia
62. Clemence Poesy vs. Victoria Justice
63. Anna Camp vs. Jennifer Hudson
64. Jennifer Love Hewitt vs. Cheryl Cole

So, go vote, guess quotes and all that.