All characters are fictional and any resemblance to real persons is coincidence.
ROUND 1: Ice Cream, You Scream
Waves crash, seagulls screech, a Wurlitzer organ warbles Oh I Do Like To Be the Seaside. The setting for the first game is a promenade, with beach and sea forming a backdrop behind some railings. To one side of the set are two mocked-up ice-cream vans – one with red detailing and one with blue. In the window of each van is a tray with regular-spaced holes, and protruding from the roof of each van is a downward curving pipe with a pull-chain dangling from it.
On the other side of the set is a giant dish-shaped pool, the walls of which are silvery (though soft inflatable). A pink substance protrudes from inside this pool.
Stationed by the railings is a Punch and Judy booth, inside which Natalie and Clara rise into view, squashed in and jostling against each other.
Clara: Ugghh!! Keep on your own side, you fat lump!
Natalie: Fat!? It’s only my boobs that are big! Guess you’ll never have that problem, smalltits!
After some more grumbling and shoving – and nearly toppling the booth – the two presenters get themselves settled in position.
Clara: Roll up, roll up! Welcome back to Grudge-2-Sludge, the unique revenge spectacle in which two feuding contestants fight to sling each other into our pool of disgusting sludge!
Natalie: Yuck, it’s only a story [shoves once more against Clara as she repositions her boobs] that will end badly for one of our players! But for now, let’s enjoy the end of summer at the English seaside! And what better than a game of ‘I spy’? I spy with my little eye, something beginning with ‘S’.
Clara: [unamused] Sea.
Natalie: Nope!
Clara: Sand.
Natalie: Nope!
Clara: [losing patience] Sun, then.
Natalie: In this place? You’ll be lucky! No, S is for ‘silly sods’! Look, here they come now!
The usual chorus of audience laughter accompanies the sheepish entrance of the contestants. Prisha and Georgia are wearing giant ice-cream cones. The players’ legs protrude through holes in the bases of the cones, while the rims take a wide berth at the level of their armpits. Underneath, each lady is wearing a sports bra of her player colour (yes, Georgia was persuaded to wear one), while on their heads they are wearing showercaps of either red or blue with white polka dots, their hair fully tucked underneath.
Clara: What a pair of coneheads! Heh heh!
Natalie: [stares, dumbfounded] Clara… are those…
Music plays: Dun dun dunnh!
Natalie: [Stares into the camera as it zooms on her face] …Showercaps!?!
Prisha: Of course. [Pats hers] My hair is far too precious and takes a long time to do! I don’t want to have to keep washing it between each game!
The audience boos upon hearing this, but Georgia, for once, is in agreement with her boss.
Natalie: No doubt you don’t, but you don’t get a choice! Grudge-2-Sludge is all about…
Clara: [nudges Natalie] Nat! Nat! I’m afraid they demanded a showercap clause in their contract and we had to go along with it. We’re a bit short on entries, now we’re getting to the end of the series. Beggars and choosers and all that.
Natalie: But not for the Sludge Sling, surely!
Clara: [smirks] Oh no, not for that! Win or lose, the hair will be coming out for the finale; that’s stipulated in black and white!
Natalie: Well that’s something at least. Anyway ladies, the first game is called Ice Cream, You Scream, and it’s all about serving up the traditional seaside cornet. Unfortunately, there’s been a mix-up, and all of the cones have ended up in the candyfloss!
The bowl-shaped pool is full of a stringy pink substance. Nestling amoungst it are dozens of light-brown ice-cream cones – about three times a regular sized cone.
Clara: Your task is delve into that floss to retrieve a cone, then take it over to the ice-cream dispenser attached to your van. Make sure you go to your own van, or you’ll get the wrong colour!
Natalie: Unfortunately, the aim on those things isn’t very precise, so good luck!
Clara: Then finally, to win those all-important points, you need to place your cone – properly filled, or it won’t count – in the holder in your van window.
Natalie: You get 1 point for a plain ice cream, and a bonus point if you add a flake.
Next to each of the cone holders is a pot full of brown chocolate flakes.
Clara: Now, maybe this all sounds a bit too easy to you…
Georgia: No, it sounds just about right.
Natalie: [firmly] Well to us, it sounds too easy. So we’ve come up with a twist to make it a bit harder. Stuart, come here!
Stuart strolls onto the set, grinning to the audience and taking a bow. He opens his mouth to say something, but Natalie makes a zipping gesture across her lips.
Natalie: Nep! No need to speak! If you would just kindly work your magic.
Stuart waves his wand, and in a twinkle Prisha and Georgia discover bungee cords attached to the backs of the cone costumes they are wearing. The other ends of the cords are attached to the bowl of candy floss.
Clara: Ah yes, much better! Good luck, girls, especially since I believe a bout of the classic British summer weather is on its way!
Natalie: You have ninety seconds on the clock, and that time starts NOW!!
The klaxon blasts, and the two presenters duck inside the Punch and Judy booth much quicker than they emerged. As cautioned by Clara, a light drizzle begins to fall from above, and the organ takes on a manic undertone. The two women hurry into action. Prisha, ever enterprising and expedient, sees if she can obtain a cone from outside the pool, thus avoiding having to go into the candyfloss. But the wall proves too high to reach over.
The high wall proves problematic for Georgia too; the short girl struggles to climb over, and ends up sprawling into the candyfloss head-first. She fights her way upwards through the pink morass, and emerges with tufts of the fibrous mess stuck to her face and showercap, and plenty stuffed inside her cone costume. She spares no time clearing it out, and clambers back over the rim of the bowl, landing in a heap on the floor, while Prisha gingerly climbs over in the other direction, moaning as her legs sink into the candyfloss.
Georgia picks herself up off the floor and charges towards her ice-cream van. The pull-chain is out of reach to her, so she jumps to grab it. It is at this moment that the slack on her bungee cord runs out, and as she grabs the chain, the cord yanks her back. Blue ice cream splurges out of the nozzle, straight inside Georgia’s cone costume and splashing coldly over her front. But this is the lesser of her worries as the bungee cord yanks her backwards and she tumbles against the wall of the pool. Meanwhile, Prisha is taking her first run-up. She successfully fills her cone from the overhead nozzle, but succumbs to the elastic before she can reach the shelf on her ice cream van. She too goes flying backwards, and the ice cream flies out of her cone and straight into her face, inciting much off-screen laughter from Natalie and Clara.
Georgia gets back on her feet and takes another charge, more prepared and determined than last time. She jumps and yanks the pull-chain, filling her cone but also getting more ice cream poured into her own costume. Ignoring the sensation she charges onwards, and plants her cone into the holder just before the bungee yanks her back. She cheers at her success and then bundles back into the candyfloss.
Prisha then succeeds in planting an ice cream into the holder in her van. Then Georgia plants another. Then Prisha plants one with a flake. Georgia has a bright idea and grabs a handful of flakes, which she drops inside her cone costume to use later. The two women are getting into the rhythm of it, timing their run and rationing their strength just right to beat the bungee. But things are getting harder for them; the light drizzle has intensified to moderate rain. Together with the candy floss (the women’s legs and arms are heavily fluffed) and the spilt ice cream, the rain forms a slick on the floor. Prisha’s and Georgia’s legs wheel comically underneath them as they fight against the bungees. Further mishap occurs when said cords get tangled while the women are rooting around in the candyfloss. Every time they try to get up, they pull each other down. A blame game begins, and they shove each around the giant bowl. The organ plays some dramatic, dissonant chords.
Natalie: Oh wow! A floss fight!
Clara: Stop scraping, ladies! You’ve only ten seconds left!
Prisha frees herself and bundles out of the candyfloss pool, but in her haste forgets to take a cone with her. Cursing herself, she clambers back in. The rain is now coming down in droves.
Natalie and Clara: Nine!! [Audience joins in] EIGHT!! SEVEN!!
Georgia leaps out of the floss pool, going for broke with two cones in her hands. Her greed turns out to be a bad idea, because she ends up dropping both and spilling a load of ice cream down herself.
Natalie, Clara and audience: SIX!! FIVE!! FOUR!!
Prisha is back out of the pool with a cone. She sprints through the driving rain, but loses traction and falls on her face.
Natalie, Clara and audience: THREE!! TWO!! ONE!!!
The klaxon blasts. Accompanying, the organ plays its closing chord.
Natalie’s head pops up in the Punch and Judy booth.
Natalie: STOP!! The game’s over!
The rain stops. Prisha and Georgia pick themselves off the floor and tug at the candyfloss that’s stuck to them.
Natalie: Ah, and look at that – the sun’s out again! Very changeable this weather!
Prisha: Eeeuck! This stuff’s disgusting!
Natalie: [sharply] I’m not gonna take any complaints from someone who’s been allowed to wear a showercap! Clara, why don’t you get out there and count the cones?
The curtains at the bottom of the booth open and Clara’s scowling face pops out.
Clara: Widen your legs, for goodness sake!
After some further fussing, Natalie complies. Clara crawls out and stands up. She turns her attention towards the ice cream vans.
Clara: Oh dear, oh dear!
Neither contestant’s cache looks that impressive. The ice cream racks are sparsely filled, and several cones are either broken or knocked over.
Natalie: On the plus side, it won’t take long to count. What’ve they got, Clara.
Clara: So… [tots up the cones on Prisha’s ice cream van] Prisha, you have one, two, three, four, five, six cones without a flake – I’m not going to count that one cos it’s almost empty – and two with a flake. That gives you 10 points!
Prisha pulls a tight face as she continues to pull candyfloss off herself.
Natalie: And what about Georgia?
Clara: Georgia has one, two, three, four, five, six flakeless cones – same as Prisha – but she has four cones with a flake – would be five but that one didn’t go in the hole…
Natalie: Oh yes, it doesn’t count if it doesn’t go in the hole…
Clara: So Georgia, you come out of Round 1 with 14 points!
Georgia whoops, while Prisha wears a worried frown.
Natalie: Ooh dear, Prisha doesn’t look happy about that! But hey, it’s early days; plenty of time for things to change. And now it’s time for the pair of you to get cleaned up and changed for the next round. Be gone, cones!
Prisha and Georgia slip and slide their way off-set, continuing to scoop goo out of their costumes.
Clara: We’ll follow them over to Flan the Frauds in just a minute, but first… [picks up a rubber trucheon] let’s carry on with our Punch and Judy show!
Natalie: [alarmed inside the booth] Hey, what’s that… Oww!! [Clara has bopped Natalie on the forehead] Don’t do that! [Clara bops again] Owww!! Stop that!!
Clara: Oh, maybe you prefer it here, then? [Bops Natalie on the tits, eliciting another yelp] Or down here? [swings the truncheon into the curtain at the back of the booth, where Natalie’s bottom would be].
Natalie: Owww!! [Clara swings again] YEEOW!!
Clara: Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside! [keeps smacking away]
Natalie: Yeeoww!! [Smack] OwWW-HOO-HOO!!! Stuart! Come and help me! [Smack] WAA-HOOOWW…!!
The scene fades out.
ROUND 2: Flan the Frauds (Naturist Edition)
The Flan the Frauds title sequence plays and then the scene opens in the relevant part of the stage. As usual, the contestants are lounging in comfortable armchairs, having enjoyed a quick shower and towel-down and redressed into their own clothes. Prisha’s and Georgia’s hair is of course immaculate, unfurled from the showercaps. Also as usual, in front of each player is a table bearing several 1½-foot shaving-foam pies, tinted in a pastel shade of the respective player colour.
More unusual, however, are the seven perspex cylinders stationed in a row opposite the contestants. In each stands a woman, whose head and bare shoulders protrude from the top (each cylinder has been adjusted in height to match the stature of its occupant). The cylinders are illuminated by interior lighting, but also obfuscated by a frosting of the perspex. The clouded figures of the women inside are distinctly flesh-coloured.
Natalie and Clara enter the set in the space between the contestants and the cylinders, the former rubbing her bottom and scowling at the latter.
Natalie: [trying to hide her crossness] Hi there! You’re watching Grudge-2-Sludge and our regular feature Flan the Frauds, and this episode’s edition is without doubt the cheapest yet for our wardrobe department!
Clara: Georgia, you may get complaints from Prisha for clothing yourself on the skimpy side, but in this case you’re very much overdressed, when compared to our line-up! [Gestures the row of frosted cylinders with the unclothed women inside]
Natalie: At Grudge-2-Sludge we may promote mob justice, but we also believe in justice for the mob, and it should be clear by now that coming here to be in our studio audience, expecting to chuckle at someone else’s embarrassment, is a dangerous, dangerous thing to do!
Clara: Dangerous indeed! Because a few hours ago these ladies had no idea they’d be standing starkers in our studio!
To further illustrate Clara’s point, a camera sweeps along the rear of the row, taking in the blurred shapes of the women’s bare behinds.
Clara: But while some of them have drawn a very short straw, others might be relaxed about letting it all bounce free – because they’re naturists!
Natalie: [confused] Didn’t we establish that that’s someone who studies insect sex, like Dr Darwin from the last episode?
Clara: No that’s… oh never mind. Let’s uncover our line-up, shall we?
Beginning at the left-most of the cylindrical person-holders, the camera moves along the row, allowing the viewers to acquaint themselves with the participants’ faces, and glean as much as they can about their bodies through the frosted perspex.
Lauren is a touch shorter and a tad older than Rebecca, but similarly slim and pale. She too wears some accessories – a daisy-chain necklace and a chrysanthemum on her ear. Her face is round and her hair is a shaved undercut style, with a sweeping quiff-come-fringe that is dyed turquoise and magenta.
Alexandra is about 35 and has a tight, thin-lipped face. Her chestnut-brown hair is neatly contained in a ‘Slavic milkmaid’ style – a single, immaculate braid looped around her head. Such neatness doesn’t apply to downstairs; the frosting can’t hide the fact that a pair of scissors hasn’t been down there in some time.
Fiona‘s age is in the low twenties, and her figure size is not far behind. Her (facial) cheeks are reddened, and as she twists shyly under the glare of the camera, her side profile makes clear that she is commensurately big in the chest department. Her hair is dark honey-blonde, shoulder-length and highly volumised.
Xia, a Chinese lady, is the eldest in the line-up – in her forties – and also the shortest. Her silky black hair is tied up in a bun on the top of her head. As best can be ascertained, her body is petite and curveless, and judging by the splashes of colour over it, heavily tattooed as well.
Maria, a dark-skinned 30s latina, has brought plenty of Latin fire with her. Easily the angriest of the line-up, she doesn’t look at the camera but instead mutters swearwords into the air while she tosses her black top-of-the-head ponytail about. She has an arm pressed against her chest and the other hand cupped on her crotch.
Lucy, a twenty-something, has champagne-blonde hair in a swishy Marilyn Monroe style, and pouty lips and heavy makeup to match. She stands with her hands on her hips and her legs apart, while she sways her perky body in a seductive style, blowing a kiss to the camera as it completes its journey.
Natalie: [raising an eyebrow] Mmmm, they don’t beat about the bush, this lot – or trim it, in some cases! But while some of these ladies are fully enlisted to the let-it-hang lifestyle, others would choose more convention in their clothing; they’ve been given 30-minutes of internet time to research all about nudism – just as well we don’t have a filter!
Clara: Prisha and Georgia, it’s your job to expose the bare-cheeked liars while sparing the truedy-nudies. As always, we’re making it harder by not telling you how many frauds lurk in our line-up, other than to say there is at least one fraud and one for-real.
Natalie: You can ask our participants pretty much anything about not wearing anything, except naked questioning of their fraud status. You can also – and I hesitate to suggest this – get them to perform an action… [Pulls an ‘eek’ face].
Clara: All the other usual rules apply, and to anyone who doesn’t know them, where have you been, huh?
Natalie: [Turns to the line-up] Ladies, you should make it your naked ambition not to give bum answers or make a boob of yourselves. Because not only will you want to avoid getting flan splattered goodness knows where, but you also stand to win 250 quid! [Fans herself with a hand of golden envelopes]
Clara: Georgia, you were won the last round 14 to 10, so you decide – go first or second?
Georgia: I’ll go first. [Blows a bubble in the direction of a scowling Prisha] Hiya girls! Tell us all about how you got into nudism?
Rebecca: One day it occurred to me, “Golly, I spend a lot of money on clothes!” So I started thinking about how I could avoid spending so much. Later, I was getting out of my bath of cold rainwater, and well, the solution was staring me in my tin-foil mirror. [Gestures herself]
Lauren: I don’t like the word ‘nudism’; it sounds so sinful! ‘Naturism’ is much better – walking around as nature intended – innocent and wholesome. Hmmm… [Leans back her head and closes her eyes]
Alexandra: Because I’m taking a stand against masculine culture, which teaches women to be ashamed of their bodies.
Natalie: [murmurs] Does it? Never had that problem with Stuart!
Fiona: Ermmm… [blushes] because I wanted to do something different, and this was a hobby none of my friends were doing.
Xia: It was my husband who got me into it, some years ago now. At first it was a social thing; now we mainly do it for our own enjoyment.
Maria: [spitting at the camera] How did I get into nudism?! How do I [klaxon] get out of it – that’s what I want to know!!
Lucy: [swishes back her hair sassily] Because I like to show off my body, my sexy body! [Dances seductively with one arm in the air]
Clara: So there you have it – their motives laid bare! Georgia, now you get to wield your first flan!
The young trainee gets up from her armchair and snatches up one of the heavily mounded flans in both hands. Her wedge heels clack on the stage as she resolutely carries the creamy disc. She heads towards the right-hand end of the row, but not the very far right where Lucy sways sassily. Instead, the black storm-cloud above Maria gets blacker and blacker.
Maria: Yeah Maria, I guess you weren’t listening when they read out the rules – you know the whole bit about pretending to be a naturist. Or perhaps you just want something to cover you up – well I can help with that!
But though unhappy at her state of undress, Maria doesn’t want to wear a flan either. Growling, she jerks her head to one side, but Georgia, strong-armed stylist that she is, doesn’t let the Latin diva get away. Worse for Maria, her whirling ponytail gets sandwiched between her face and the flan prior to impact, increasing her dishevelment. She splutters, her face a mass of blue cream and buried hair. The klaxon blocks out some colourful language as the cream begins to plop down onto her body.
Natalie: I think some cool cream is just what that hothead needed! Prisha, it’s your turn!
Prisha looks annoyed that Georgia pipped her to the very obvious Maria, but composes herself before asking her question.
Prisha: Normally in Flan the Frauds, the theme is based around a certain profession or job, but not this time. So I’d like to know what you do for a living.
Rebecca: I write online articles for CashStashingSpecialist.com, the nifty website that gives you quick and simple tips to save money – like not buying clothes!
Lauren: [dreamily] I’m a mature student who hasn’t lost her inner child.
Alexandra: I’m a university lecturer in economics. I specialise in yield curves.
Clara: Is that what you call them?
Fiona: Um, I work for the tax office. [A few boos sound from the audience]. I do the photocopying.
Natalie: Photocopying what, exactly?
The insinuation makes Fiona blush even more profusely before the camera moves on to Xia.
Xia: My husband and I run a tattoo parlour. We see a lot of body bits, so showing our own helps put the customers at ease.
Clara: Mmmm, I’m not sure about that…
The camera glides past Maria, whoe is caught between using hands to wipe her face and keeping them in place as a body shield. She spits and swears and vows to sue the show.
Lucy: I work in human resources. Then at the weekend I show off my own human resources!
Lucy cups the undersides of her tits and wags them up and down alternately. The tops of them come into view over the rim of the cylinder, and she is perilously close to revealing too much.
Natalie: Alright! That’s enough! We’re supposed to be a family show!
Clara: I think we forfeited the right to call ourselves that some time ago. Anyway, Prisha, it’s your turn to flan!
Prisha stands up stiffly and selects a flan from her table. Her long crimson fingernails clasp the foil tin delicately, and there is a slight disdain on her face as she lifts the wobbling mound of pastel pink cream. She approaches the line-up dead-centre. Fiona sighs and closes her eyes as she turns her even redder.
Prisha: Sorry, Fiona. You may not be ranting and raving like Maria, but it’s clear you’re pretty uncomfortable about being in your birthday suit. So I’m afraid that rules you out.
Prisha springs forth her flan, her experienced hairdresser’s hand more gentle than Georgia’s but just as thorough. The pie slaps on target. When she removes the foil tin, Fiona’s face is masked with the pink goo, out of which her eyes and mouth open in shock. The upper and side fringes of pie stick to Fiona’s voluminous hairstyle, forming a generous halo, while the excess cream at the bottom drops downwards, landing onto Fiona’s big boobs so that two circles of pink are visible through the frosted perspex. Fiona’s facial openings gape wider at the sensation of this.
Clara: Truly textbook flanning there, Prisha! Georgia, your next question please!
Georgia: Where and when do you get naked and what do you do while you’re naked?
Rebecca: When I’m working! I work from home – saves money as there’s no commuting – so I get to spend all of my work time unclothed. Plus when I do need to go somewhere, I go for a naked cycle – nice and cheap and I swear it makes me more aerodynamic!
Lauren: When I’m in the woodland communing with nature… pressing the soles of my feet in Mother Earth… frolicking with the fairies… Well, not actual fairies, but I like to frolic all the same.
Alexandra: When I’m giving lectures. It’s a test for my male students as to whether they can look at a naked female and actually concentrate on what she’s saying; otherwise they fail their exams [looks pleased with herself].
The camera skates past Fiona, still pink-faced and trying to rake the goo out of her hair.
Xia: Well, apart from when we’re working in the tattooists, my husband and I like to play ping-pong.
A few titters come from the audience.
Lucy: Saturday night at parties. I like to shake my booty on the dance floor − Ooh yeah! [Performs a dance in which she revolves inside her cylinder, tracing circles with her bum]
Clara: [pulls a face] Well, uh, there’s a few images I won’t get out of my head in a while! Anyway, Georgia, what do you make of it all?
Georgia collects her next flan. This time her bearing is to the left. The corners of Lauren’s mouth turn down anxiously, but Georgia continues past her; Rebecca is the target.
Georgia: Funny, Rebecca – you claim to be such a skinflint you won’t buy clothes, but those earrings look rather pricey. Real diamonds, are they? Those specs don’t look cheap either.
Evidently this is true, because Rebecca is hasty to remove her glasses. Instinctively she tries to pocket them, then realises that isn’t possible, so simply holds onto them as Georgia moves in for the flanning. Georgia puts her left hand on the back of Rebecca’s head while firmly smushing with her right. As she screws the pie around, bit of cream drop onto Rebecca’s nude body, causing the woman to wriggle. Finally Georgia pushes the flan onto the top of Rebecca’s head, further ruining her hair, then leaves the foil tin in place.
Natalie: You can leave your hat on – ha ha! Prisha, the next question’s yours.
Prisha: This is a practical one: where do you keep your keys?
First of all we are treated to a post-flan view of Rebecca, who has wiped her eyes and put her glasses back on. She smiles sheepishly at the camera before it moves on to Lauren.
Lauren: Locks are but mankind’s artificial barriers. The forest has no need for keys; I pass freely from copse to glade, from stream to sycamore, from hollow to hillock…
Natalie: Alright, there’s no need for explicit language!
Alexandra: In my office, usually. Unless I’ve chained myself to something in protest, in which case the keys goes in my [the klaxon whoops] and I dare any male officer to remove it!
Clara: [mutters] Doubt they’d find it among all that hair.
Xia: My husband takes care of that. He has a keyring that’s just the right size to fit on his [another blast of the klaxon].
Lucy: Me? I throw my keys into a crowd of boys. After all, at least one of them’s gonna be going home with me! Wooooo!! [Jumps up and imitates throwing something into the air, nearly exposing herself again]
Natalie: Bloody hell, that klaxon’s gonna be worn out! Prisha, I hope you can brave the set of images we’ve just been given…
Prisha does appear slightly scandalised, but also determined, as she gets up and selects another flan. She sets off in Xia’s direction, but then veers further right. Lucy’s Marilyn-Monroe lips pout slightly.
Prisha: [to Lucy] Well, Madam, I think you might well be an exhibitionist, but that’s not the same as a naturist. There’s more to it than getting your kit off after a few Bacardi Breezers!
While Prisha raises the pie, Lucy again cups her boobs from underneath and pushes them upwards. The camera has to maintain a very careful angle.
Lucy: Choose your target, baby! Uhh-hmm!
Prisha’s lip turns up in prudish disdain, but in the event she manages to hit all three targets, with the top of the flan driving into Lucy’s face, while the bottom smashes her tits. The pink cream forms a triangle between the three, and also makes foamy curtains of Lucy’s swishy blonde hair. Lucy immediately begin to rub the cream over herself, making sensual noises.
Clara: Good Lord! Can we mute the mic over there? Uh, Georgia, another question if you dare…
Georgia: Have you ever been arrested while naked?
Lauren: No. I always practice my naturism deep in the woods, far from the earthly police and their societal prejudices.
Alexandra: I was arrested once, but I think that had more to do with the fact I’d chained myself to a fracking rig than my lack of dress.
Xia: The police did use to come in the tattoo parlour to ‘have a word’. But these days they turn a blind eye.
The cameraman decides not to get a gander at what Lucy is doing.
Clara: Mmm, and there’s plenty to turn an eye blind over here! Georgia, have you decided how to act? Don’t forget you also have the option to call it quits.
Calling it quits is not the cards for Georgia, who picks up another flan and advances steadily towards Xia, whose tattooed shoulders hunch in anticipation.
Georgia: Xia, if you what you say is true, your husband has got it all sussed out hasn’t he? But I’m not sure I buy it. It’s not any particular thing you said – just a sense I’ve got. A bit like sometimes someone comes in the salon, and I find myself taking a dislike to them.
Prisha: Only sometimes?
Ignoring her boss, Georgia draws back her flan. The petite, older Chinese lady hunches her shoulders further, clamps shut her eyes, and emits a little squeak split-seconds before the pile of blue gunk ploughs into her features. Georgia then slides the flan sideways, filling Xia’s ear, then arcs over the top of the Chinese lady’s head, making sure her hair bun is nicely ensconced, and then down to the other ear. Georgia then moves the remaining flan backwards, completing the coverage of Xia’s head, before dropping the tin with its remnants down Xia’s bare back.
Natalie: Bit of a comb-over there! Prisha, there are just two left in our line-up and it’s time for another question from you.
Prisha: [hesitates] Umm, what would you suggest to someone who is thinking of getting into naturism?
Lauren: Well Prisha, what I suggest you do is−
Prisha: [mortified] No no, not me!
Lauren: [knowing nod] Ah, asking for a friend…
Prisha: [flustered] No! I’m just asking for the sake of−
Lauren: What I suggest your friend do is take a trip deep into the woodland. Don’t take any clothes off yet; just stand in a clearing, close your eyes, breathe in the tree scent. Let your heartbeat meld – I mean, let your friend’s heartbeat meld with the ancient woodland spirits. And then, start to unbutton…
Alexandra: Absolutely. Cast aside male oppression and go for it!
Natalie: Mmmm, some interesting advice – I mean answers for you there, Prisha. What do you choose to do?
Prisha, discomfitted by the discussion, reaches forward and grabs the rim of a pie tin between her long fingernails. Cautiously she eyes the two women who are still in play. Then she pushes the tin away from herself.
Prisha: I’m going to wrap up at this point.
Clara: Sure you don’t want to unwrap? [winks] Okay, Prisha you have declared yourself done. Georgia, the final flan (or might it be two?) rests with you. If you disagree with Prisha, here’s your chance to express it.
Georgia does disagree. She stands up and scoops a flan onto her left arm. Then, mindful not to make a mess of herself, she scoops another of the unwieldy flans onto her right.
Natalie: Oh my… Could it be…?
Georgia steps forward. She stands midway between Lauren and Alexandra, eyes flitting between them as they blink nervously back to her.
Clara: Could it be…? Could it be…?!
Georgia pounces. Showing she can sure be athletic when she wants to be, the slovenly girl jumps with her knees bunched up, while her arms extend in a V-shape. The flans slam Lauren and Georgia simultaneously, transforming their faces into discs of blue goo. Lauren’s multicoloured fringe gets swept back with the gunk, while Alexandra’s maidenesque hairdo also gets covered. Their bodies also get caught up in the resulting explosion of cream; Lauren’s chests gets splattered, while the frosted perspex shows that a large blue lump has lodged itself in Alexandra’s hairy hinterland.
Natalie: Woahh!! A double flan!
Letting both pie tins clatter to the floor, Georgia walks away satisfied, plonking herself back in her armchair.
Clara: Uhhh… Any particular reason, Georgia?
Georgia: Because you [points at Alexandra] are a bit too wacky to be believed, and you [points at Lauren] say you’re into natural stuff but you have weird-coloured hair!
Natalie: Hmmm… I can see why Georgia’s salon manner causes you problems, Prisha. But hey, Clara, look at this – all seven flanned!! We’ve not had that before!
Clara: Indeed we haven’t. But at least one of them is a wrongful flanning – maybe more. Ladies, please reveal yourselves!
Natalie: [tittering] I think they already have!
Along the row, each woman pulls away the outer layer of the label on her cylinder, revealing underneath some text that says either “For Real” or “Fraud”.
Rebecca: I’m a cheap fraud!
Lauren: [still clearing her nostrils of flan] For real! My hair is all-natural dye!
Alexandra: For real! They come a lot more ‘wacky’ than me in academia these days!
Fiona: [shyly] I’m a fraud.
Xia: For real. My husband’s for real, too!
Natalie: Maria…?
The Latina simply stands with her arms folded, continuing to sulk, so Clara steps forward and pulls away the name tag.
Clara: She’s a fraud.
Lucy [rips off her name label and throws it back with both arms] Fraud! I’m not a naturist, but I think I might become one – woohoo!! [Wiggles]
Clara: Mmm, not as fraudy as all those flannings would have you believe! Let’s see what it means for our contestants.
Natalie: Prisha, your two flans were bang on the money, so that gives you 10 points.
Clara: Georgia, you got off to a good start there – also two correct. But your flan-crazy finish all but undid that good work; those three wrongful flannings bring you back down to just 1 point!
Georgia harrumphs, while Prisha chuckles to herself.
Natalie: Tell you what Clara, this has worked out a really cheap F.t.F – first of all no costume costs, and now no prize money to give out! [Tucks envelopes inside her dress] Looks like I’ll be having a few drinks tonight!
Clara: Oi! That’s the show’s money to give back! [Turns to the flan-covered line-up] Ladies, I’m afraid every single one of you leaves the show with empty pockets – if you even had pockets – but you’ve been excellent sports, so we’ll be giving you each a Grudge-2-Sludge towel and toiletry pack!
Natalie: I think it’s only fair we cover these ladies up, Clara.
Clara: [smirking] Couldn’t agree more, Nat.
A siren rings out. The seven women, knowing well the format of the show, duck and cover their heads, waiting for something to be dropped on them. But instead fountains erupt from the base of the cylinders, multiple nozzles firing up jets of gunge, forming a rainbow of colour (red for Rebecca, orange for Lauren, yellow for Alexandra, green for Fiona, blue for Xia, indigo for Maria, and violet for Lucy). A cacophony of screams and cackling laughter sound from the women as they are blasted from below.
Natalie: Sounds like that hit the spot! Let’s have a round of applause for our naturists and not-so-naturists!
The audience applaud the women, who are still recovering from the shock.
Clara: Just one question: how are we going to get them backstage in a dignified way?
Natalie: STUART!
Stuart steps on the set, brandishing his magic wand. He gives this a wave and the seven women disappear, leaving behind the empty cylinders. He takes a bow.
Natalie: Alright, no need to show off, Stuart. Away you go! Well Clara, I guess this shows what a risky business it is to turn up for our studio audience!
Clara: Sure is. And don’t you sit there thinking you’ve got away with it [points into audience], because two of you are still to be summonsed to take part in Round 3, and it’s gonna be a messy one!
Natalie [rubbing hands together] Ooh yes, but not as messy as the Sludge Sling, of course! And to find it who’s on course to go in, let’s take a look at the overall scores!
Clara: Georgia of the blues inches forward onto 15 points, but red player Prisha leapfrogs her up to 20 points!
Prisha smiles smugly and gives herself a little round of applause, while Georgia shakes her fists in frustration.
Natalie: And so the tables have turned!
Clara: But will they turn again when the audience votes are revealed. Don’t go away; we’ll be back very soon!
As the scene begins to fade, so does Natalie’s TV smile. Rubbing her backside, she turns to Clara…
Natalie: [hisses] If there’s bruising I’ll be taking action against you!