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.
“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…
