Grudge-2-Sludge – Pilot Episode, Round 3 and the Sludge Sling

The characters in this story are fictional and any resemblance to real people is coincidence.

The scene begins with the camera trained on the medieval-style catapult that forms the ‘sling’ part of the Sludge Sling. The chair, consisting of a hard-looking seat and a back support at right-angles to each other, sits atop a stubby pole that protrudes from the end of the catapult beam, with a little foot-rest on the beam itself.

The camera sweeps down, past the pivot of the beam and over the rectangular pool that stretches in front of the catapult. The sickly morass of yellows and greens glints stalely under the studio lights. The camera swings sideways to focus on the throne, which is rimmed with jewel-studded gold (all fake of course) and padded with purple cushions. It faces the pool sideways-on from a safe distance, raised on a platform so as to give the occupant a perfect spectator’s view of the anticipated slinging.

Finally, the shot zooms out to reveal four women standing at the front end of the pool: the two presenters – Natalie, leggy and blonde; and Clara, dark and petite – and the two contestants.

Natalie: Hello again! She’s Clara Quick!

Clara: And she’s Natalie Lloyd!

Natalie: And this is Grudge-2-Sludge, the show that seeks to bury the hatchet…

Clara: [thumbs over her shoulder] …Under several feet of slimy, smelly sludge!

Natalie: If you’ve just joined us, tonight’s contestants are Gemma Smith and her mum Siobhan from Kettering. Gemma is fed up with her mum treating her like a child, but Siobhan thinks Gemma still has some growing up to do!

Clara: But before the night is out, this grudge will be settled one way or the other. One of these women will be lording it up in yonder throne, while the other will face punishment by the Sludge Sling!

Natalie: It’ll all come down to who racks up the most points in tonight’s contest. So far, after two rounds of games, Gemma has the edge on her mum with 27 points against 23, but there’s still another round to play, and we have to factor in the votes of our dear audience.

Clara: Yes ladies, you’ll recall that we are going to take your percentage of the vote, divide it by 5, and add the nearest whole number to your tally.

Natalie: Gemma, I have the results here, and I can tell you that a stonking 77% of voters chose to support…

Gemma smiles broadly.

Natalie: …your mum, while a measly 23% backed you!

Gemma: What?!?

Siobhan: Yes!! Ha ha! [Claps and laughs at Gemma, whose jaw hangs open]

Clara: Siobhan, you seem mighty pleased with that.

Siobhan: [grinning] Very pleased! It’s vindication for long-suffering mums everywhere!

Natalie: [shaking her head] Gemma, what can I say? You teenagers are always griping that the world is against you, but this time it really is!

Gemma: [hands on hips, glaring at the audience] I’m not at all impressed!

Clara: Here’s something that’ll impress you even less. Dividing those percentages by 5 and rounding, we get 5 points for you, Gemma, and 15 for Siobhan!

Natalie: Which means that Gemma’s total is now 32, but Siobhan has retaken the lead with 38!

Siobhan cheers, while Gemma puffs out through her cheeks.

Natalie: Gemma, a short while ago you were so confident of slinging your mum in this very sludge behind us! Now it must be taking on a more worrying appearance to you.

Gemma: [refusing to look behind her] I can come back from this! It’s only six points!

Clara: Indeed you can, but be aware you’ll actually need to make up seven points of ground. You see, the rules state that if the match ends on a tie, the audience vote serves as the decider. So it’s not enough for you to draw with your mum; you need to win!

Gemma: Right, well I’m going for the win then.

Natalie: That’s the spirit! And this next game might be right up your street. Am I right in thinking you love to end your boozy nights out with a big, greasy kebab?

Gemma: [nonchalantly] Occasionally, yeah.

Siobhan: [butting in] Every time! My car forever stinks of it.

Gemma: Well you do say I mustn’t drink on an empty stomach!

Siobhan: [exasperated] I tell you to eat something before you start drinking! And preferably not junk food!

Gemma: Hey! There’s a lot of salad in a keb–

Clara: Enough bickering, you two! Let’s get started with Round Three. It’s called…

Natalie and Clara together: Kebabstrophe!!

 

ROUND 3: Kebabstrophe

After a quick swish of titles, the scene opens in a kebab-shop set, complete with counters and price boards. One unusual fixture is a large circular vat, rimmed with stainless steel up to waist height and filled with a translucent brown substance.

Natalie and Clara enter from opposite directions and converge in front of the vat.

Natalie: Oh! Hiya there, Clara.

Clara: Hi, Nat! [Looks around] Hmm, doesn’t seem to be much service around here.

Natalie: [tutting] All the kebab stuff’s just been left in this fryer. [Very tentatively extends an arm towards the vat]. Look, there’s kebab meat, tomatoes…

Floating in the vat are strips of brown plastic and red balloons. The latter are filled half with air and half with liquid.

Clara: Oh no! Onion rings! [Pointing to a large, whitish ring, also floating in the vat] I hate those!

Natalie: We haven’t got any pittas! Weren’t Gemma and Siobhan supposed to bring them? You did tell them we were meeting here?

Clara: I did, yeah. I told them to arrive early and hang around ’til we got here.

Natalie: Hang around?

Clara: Yeah, hang around. [Looks up] Oh, there they are!

Gemma and Siobhan descend into shot, side by side, suspended on harnesses with bungee cords either side of them. For the second time in the show, their bizarre costumes draw laughter from the audience. They are wearing green bodices, elaborately pleated to look like a leafy salad. In particular, a pair of ‘lettuce leaves’ cups each woman’s bust. Downstairs, they are wearing green bikini bottoms, but more strikingly each has a giant ‘pitta bread’ around their lower half. The edge of the pitta flares out at a wide radius around their waist, held in place by further bungee cords. There are a pair of holes in the base of the pitta through which their bare legs protrude, slightly forward and somewhat apart, so that the women are forced into an unseemly squatting position. Neither looks particularly pleased about the arrangement.

Natalie: Nice of you to drop in. Come down and join us!

Clara: That’s it – right the way down!

The pair continue to descend until the bottoms of the pittas, which are evidently made of some waterproof material, dip into the brown goo. The women’s feet also dip in, making them squeal.

Natalie: Welcome to the Grudge-2-Sludge kebab shop. Gemma and Siobhan, you are kebabs and we want you to stuff it!

Clara: That’s rather unkind, Nat.

Natalie: No, you see, I want them to stick the meat in their pittas!

Clara: Now you’re being obscene.

Natalie: [Sighing] Look, basically, ladies, this deep-fat fryer contains all the ingredients for a good kebab, and the aim of the game is to get as many pieces as possible into those pitta breads around your waists.

Clara: It’s up to you how you do it – this game is completely freestyle – but you’ll probably need to get a bit of bounce going on those bungees.

Natalie: Strips of kebab meat are worth three points each, and tomatoes are worth two points, but only if you don’t burst them!

Clara: But onion rings will cost you one point each.

Natalie: Yeah, we don’t like onion rings, so chuck ’em away.

Clara: [deviously] Or even better, chuck ’em in your opponent’s pitta!

Gemma: [looking down] This isn’t fair! She’s got a lot more stuff around her than I have!

Siobhan: [murmurs] She’s the cat’s mother…

Natalie: Don’t worry! We have a solution to that.

Natalie clicks her fingers. Gemma and Siobhan commence a circling motion around the vat.

Clara: Ninety seconds on the clock, and remember, only stuff that’s completely inside your pitta when the clock stops will count to your score.

Natalie: Yep, it won’t do you any good if it goes in and comes out again!

Siobhan: [snidely] That’s what I say to Gemma when she’s hugging the toilet bowl.

Clara: Oh, and watch out – things could get a bit saucy during the game!

Natalie: Your time starts NOW!

Natalie and Clara evacuate the area, while Gemma and Siobhan scrabble for the food items. They immediately discover it’s not that easy; the rims of the pitta breads are rigid, and having to crane their arms over them leaves the contestants with insufficient reach into the goo below. As suggested by the hosts, bouncing on the bungee cords seems to be the most fruitful option. Gemma yanks up and down on her cords, which causes her pitta to bounce vertically, splashing the brown oily substance up her legs. When she has built up a bit of bounce she lunges forward, snatching at the coveted items. She manages to grab a a slice of ‘kebab meat’, and squirrels it inside her pitta, but a ‘tomato’ bursts as she digs in her nails, spraying her with reddish liquid. She snarls.

Siobhan has chosen a slightly more elegant method of pulling her bungee cords one side at a time, thus building up a swaying motion. She then lunges from side to side in time with the swaying. It works quite well, until, like Gemma, she fumbles a tomato, which sprays its contents over her chest. After this, she loses sync, and has to pause to regain the correct swaying motion.

Natalie: Mustard anyone?!

Natalie and Clara are standing behind the counter, each pointing a king-sized squeezy bottle of mustard. Yellow jets squirt out across the kebab shop, spraying the players. Gemma splutters as the bright yellow slime assails her front and face. Siobhan is luckier in that she is facing the other direction, so although the mustard sprays her hair and back, it is less distracting. The roles swap, however, as the revolving players make their turn around the vat, and it is Siobhan’s turn to take a faceful.

Gemma, meanwhile, in her frenzied bouncing, accidentally dips the rim of her pitta below the surface of the goo. She screams as a wave of the liquid floods inside, splashing her crotch, but is pleased to see a couple of kebab meat slices ride in on the wave. The brown goo slowly drains through the leg-holes around her legs, but something occurs to Gemma; the added weight has dragged her slightly lower, making it easier to grab below. Quickly, she thrusts down again, filling her pitta with more of the liquid.

Clara: Anyone want burger sauce?!

The two presenters fire jets of pale orange-pink sauce at the contestants, but the shock effect is less than last time, as both players are fully engrossed in their task and aware of what is at stake. Siobhan in particular has really got the knack of swinging from side to side and sweeping up the goodies, but in one of her swings she inadvertently grabs an onion ring. She tosses it in Gemma’s direction, but instead of going in Gemma’s pitta, as intended, it bounces off the girl’s head.

Gemma: Oii!!

Siobhan: [chuckling] Sor-ree!!

Gemma, quick to temper, kicks her feet into the goo, splashing her mum. Siobhan, though knowing that she should know better, retaliates.

Natalie: Hey! Pipe down, you two. Have some garlic mayo!

Said mayo is not squirted by Natalie and Clara, but instead pours from above in small, randomly located jetlets, catching both the women as they revolve around the vat. It does seem to have the desired effect of pacifying their fight.

Clara: Time’s running out! Ten! Nine!

Gemma yanks her cords like crazy, not caring how much she splashes herself, going all-out for victory. Siobhan likewise redoubles her efforts.

Clara, Natalie and audience: EIGHT! SEVEN! SIX!! FIVE!!

Snatching an onion ring, Gemma flings it across like a frisbee. It hooks itself on the cusp of Siobhan’s pitta but doesn’t go in.

Clara, Natalie and audience: THREE!! TWO!! ONE!!

A klaxon blasts. The players cease circulating and huge piles of finely chopped salad are dropped on them, sticking to their wet and sauce-slicked bodies.

Natalie: [running on the scene] STOP!! Don’t you dare touch anything!

Neither Gemma nor Siobhan are inclined to cheat; both slump in their pittas, panting heavily.

Clara walks on pushing what appear to be two polystyrene take-out boxes, except that like everything else in this game, they are vastly oversized.

Clara: Well, Nat. They both seem equally worn out, and that’s good to see, but who is our prima-doner and who has been skewered?

Natalie: Let’s count up what Gemma has collected. [Reaches over into Gemma’s pitta] ’Scuse me if I put my hand on something I shouldn’t…

Screwing her face at the sliminess, and being ultra-careful not to spill a drop on her dress, Natalie retrieves the objects, and lays them out in one of the polystyrene boxes. Gemma watches solemnly between wipes of salad away from her face.

Natalie: Yuck! Right, that’s the lot; let’s see what you’ve got. So… seven slices of kebab meat worth 3 points each… three tomatoes worth 2 points each… and you’ve been a bit careless and let in two onion rings there…

Clara: [tuts] We don’t like onion rings.

Natalie: …So each of those cost you a point. Overall, Gemma, that’s 25 points, which when added to your score, means that your finishing total is 57 points!

Gemma nods without smiling.

Clara: Hmm, that’s good but will it be good enough? Siobhan, your score was 38, so bearing in mind you have the tiebreaker advantage, you need 19 points to win.

Gemma winces at this calculation. Siobhan takes a deep breath.

Natalie: But has Siobhan done it? Looks like you’ll have to get your hands dirty, Clara.

Clara: Cheers Nat.

Near-silence falls as Clara reaches into Siobhan’s pitta and starts to pull out the dripping items. Gemma watches with her hands over her mouth.

A tomato bursts as Clara puts into the box, making everyone jump in the hushed studio. It splatters up Clara’s arm and onto her dress.

Clara: Euugh!! These bloody things!

Siobhan: It still counts, right?

Clara: [snapping] Yes, dammit, it counts!

Over what seems an excruciating period of time, the box becomes increasingly full. A smile slowly rises on Siobhan’s face, while Gemma’s face sinks deeper into her hands. Peering through her fingers, the teenager lets out a forlorn whine.

Clara: I think Gemma knows this is bad news, but let’s make sure, shall we? Siobhan, you got eight slices of kebab meat, four tomatoes, and you managed to avoid taking on any onion rings.

Gemma: Hey! What about that one! [Pointing at the onion ring that is still hooked on the cusp of Siobhan’s pitta]

Natalie: Didn’t go in so it doesn’t count. And even if it did, it’s not going to change anything, is it sweetie?

Clara: Totting all that up gives you 32 points, Siobhan. Which, when added to your score, gives you a spectacular 70! You’ve won!

Siobhan doesn’t need to be told this, but nonetheless raises her arms in victory. She gives a playful nudge to Gemma, whose expression can only be described as leaden.

Natalie: Well, I guess these two should quit hanging around and go and get cleaned up. Siobhan, do you know which bit of the show is coming up next?

Siobhan: [grinning from ear to ear] Yes, I do!

Clara: And Gemma, do you know what’s coming next?

Gemma only whimpers in reply.

Natalie: Oh yes, she does! Right, on your way, you two!

The two women ascend toward the rafters, Siobhan celebrating, Gemma with her hands over her face and shaking her head.

Clara: [addresses the camera] Stay tuned, folks, because the hour has arrived!

Natalie: Yes, it’s time for the premiere, the debut, the grand unveiling, the maiden voyage…

Natalie and Clara together: OF THE SLUDGE SLING!!

 

THE SLUDGE SLING

The camera sweeps low over an undulating landscape of pea greens and sweetcorn yellows, and viewers switching on at this moment might be forgiven for thinking they were watching a scientific documentary set on another planet, with craggy contours coloured by thousands of years of sulphur emissions – although the patches of bright pink and pale blue might give them pause for thought.

The camera lifts as it arrives at the edge of the pool, trained on the sturdy mechanism of the medieval-style catapult. A pair of feet, clad only in fishnet tights, squirm slightly on the footrest. Gemma is once again clothed in the attire she arrived in, minus her shoes. In her seated position, her miniskirt has left exposed nearly the full length of her young thighs, and she clamps these together to prevent her knickers being exposed to the camera. She has pulled her string-up crop-top extra tight, such that it presses against her bust. She has showered and completely dried her hair, and the studio lights give a pleasing sheen to her swooped fringe.

The camera zooms in on Gemma’s face. She flashes moody eyes in its direction and pouts, but can’t help smirking a little bit.

Natalie: Oh yes! Here we have Gemma, the girl who loves a night out, about to have a night in for a change – in our pool of slimy sludge!

A zoom-out reveals Natalie standing beside the catapult. The camera then swings across, to where Siobhan is sitting pretty on the plush throne, also showered and dried and wearing the halter top and jeans in which she arrived. Clara, who has heavily dabbed her dress to prevent staining, stands beside the throne.

Clara: Congratulations, Siobhan – a truly deserved win after all that you’ve been through! Your daughter Gemma is always begging you for booze money, she calls you up in the middle of the night demanding a lift, and spends the next day hungover. Her counter-complaint was that you lecture her on how little she wears and how much she drinks, and that you embarrass her by checking up on her when she’s out with her pals. But her whining didn’t cut much ice with the studio audience, who voted in your favour by more than three to one, and you also outplayed her in both physical games, as well as the games overall. How does it feel now that you’re about to call ‘time at the bar’ on her drunken shenanigans?

Siobhan: Absolutely wonderful, Clara! And as you say, Gem’s had this coming a long time. I do love my girl, but sometimes a mum needs to be harsh to show she cares!

Sitting on her meagre seat, Gemma is pouting overtime.

Natalie: Gemma, there is a silver lining in all of this. Remember you said that you’d never live down your mum coming into the pub and molly-coddling you in front of your friends? Well, I can safely say that after your friends see you get slung in this sludge, they’ll never talk about anything else! All your past embarrassments will be forgotten in comparison, and you’ll have us to thank!

Gemma: [through gritted teeth] I’m so damn grateful!

Natalie: You’re most welcome. Oh, and there’s something else you can thank us for. A condemned prisoner is always entitled to their last meal, so we’ve cooked up a three-course meal for you. Or should that be a three-course ordeal!

Clara wheels on a serving trolley, on which sit three pieces of elaborate silverware. A tureen is labelled “Gloop of the Day”, while a wide, cylindrical pie dish is marked “Manky Mains”. A tall jug bares the label “Just Desserts”. Gemma eyes the trolley anxiously.

Clara: Yep, here it is! And the good news for you, Gemma, is that dinner could be on your mother!

Siobhan: Eh!?

Natalie: Yes, that’s right. We’re not entirely heartless on this show, so we’re giving you a chance to get some small measure of payback on your mum. I’m going to ask you three multiple-choice questions – one for each course of the meal. For any question you get right, Clara here will serve up that course… all over your mum’s head!

Siobhan’s face pulls into a cringe.

Clara: The bad news is that for any question you get wrong… well I think you know what’ll happen, don’t you?

Gemma nods resignedly.

Natalie: Right then, let’s get on with starters! Clara, what is the Gloop of the Day?

Clara: [pulls off the lid of the tureen] Gloop of the Day is tomato!

Natalie: Gemma, here’s your first question: One of the earliest family fall-outs – at least, according to the Bible – was between brothers Cain and Abel. After Cain killed Abel, and incurred God’s displeasure for doing so, where was he sent to dwell? Was it,
The Tower of Babel?
The Valley of Gehenna?
Or the Land of Nod?

Gemma: [shrugging] Uh… the valley one.

Natalie: The Valley of Gehenna? No, I’m afraid it was the Land of Nod – somewhere you’re familiar with yourself!

Clara: [picking up the tureen] That means Gloop of the Day is on you!

Carefully balancing the tureen, Clara climbs a set of steps behind Gemma, who leans forward (giving the audience an enticing view down her crop-top) and puts her hands over her face. Clara pours, and a deep-red liquid flows forth over Gemma’s head and shoulders. Gemma bleats as the thick soup covers her head and runs in copious amounts down the scantily protected flesh of her back. The audience cheers and Siobhan laughs at the sight.

Gemma straightens herself up, and streams of soup run down her chest. Her swooped fringe is weighed down, encroaching upon her eyes.

Natalie: Better read up on your Bible next time, Gem! Clara, what’s on offer for Manky Mains?

Clara: [lifting the lid of the pie dish] Main course is shepherd’s pie, and it’s manky indeed!

Natalie: Gemma, your mum says that when she gives an inch you take a mile, so the question to you is how many inches are in a mile? Is it,
63,360?
68,840?
Or 72,690?

Gemma flips her tomatoey fringe away from her eyes and stares into the distance, trying to perform rough calculations with long-forgotten imperial measures. She soon gives up.

Gemma: [shrugging] The middle one?

Natalie: No, it’s actually the smallest of those: 63,360!

Gemma rolls her eyes.

Clara: Which means it’s Manky Mains for you!

Carrying the pie dish, Clara climbs the steps. Gemma again leans forward and covers her face.

Clara: No no! You sit up straight and put your hands down!

Gemma reluctantly obeys. Clara holds the pie dish above Gemma’s head and inverts it. For a second, nothing comes out. Then the mashed potato drops, wet and sloppy, neatly blanketing Gemma’s hair and shoulders. A congealed mass of dark-brown slop swiftly follows, splashing all over Gemma, including her bare legs. It looks so unappetising that the audience’s cheer is tinged with delighted disgust. Siobhan is having the best time of all, laughing heartily and slapping her thigh at her daughter’s dishevelling. Gemma screws her features and sticks out her tongue.

Natalie: Oh dear, Gemma, this isn’t going well for you! Siobhan, you could be on course for a clean sweep here!

Gemma looks daggers at Natalie as blobs of mince and mash slide down into her cleavage.

Natalie: What are the Just Desserts, Clara?

Clara: [pulling the lid off the jug and raising a mischievous eyebrow] Rice pudding!

Natalie: Mmm, my favourite! Last question: Where would you find the islets of Langerhans?
On Neptune?
On Middle Earth in The Lord of the Rings?
Or in the pancreas?

Gemma: [brightening] Oh! I know this one from A-level biology! They’re in the pancreas!

Natalie: Correct!

Siobhan: Damn! [Slaps the arms of the throne and smiles ruefully, learning she won’t be escaping clean]

Clara: Which means that Siobhan will be getting her Just Desserts!

Clara struts over to the throne and climbs a set of steps that are set into the back. Siobhan glances up at her and giggles, then faces forwards and clamps her eyes shut. The rice pudding drops in irregular dollops as Clara tips the jug, filling and flattening Siobhan’s curly hair and splattering onto her torso, some sliding inside her halter top as she shrieks squeamishly. It’s Gemma’s turn to look on and laugh, raising a victory fist.

Clara shakes the last dregs out of the jug, then withdraws down the stairs. Siobhan laughs in good humour as she brushes back her pudding-filled hair.

Natalie: Well, Gemma, you managed to get something on your mum, so well done for that. But I’m not sure why you’re smiling, because with dinner over, it’s time for the entertainment!

Gemma’s face drops in dread, as the yellow-green sludge, stretching before her, returns to the forefront of her attention.

As Handel’s Hallelujah Chorus plays, a long golden chain descends from the rafters to the right-hand side of Siobhan. At the end is a fancy handle, not dissimilar to one for a traditional lavatory, except that it is ‘gold’ and studded with ‘jewels’. It stops at a convenient height.

Clara: Siobhan, I guess you’d prefer not to be wearing rice pudding at this moment, but believe me, this will make up for it. Take a good look at your daughter Gemma, think about the booze tab she’s run up with you, remember the phone calls waking you up in the middle of the night, relive the times she’s puked all over your bathroom. And in your own time, take hold of that golden chain…

Natalie and Clara together: [as they step away to safe distances] And SLING HER IN THE SLUDGE!!

With a supreme smirk, Siobhan fixes her gaze upon Gemma and wraps her right hand around the chain handle. Gemma’s body tenses and she lets out a small squeal. Her tight-clad feet pound the footrest in a spasm.

In a very deliberate motion, Siobhan pulls the chain. Fountains of sparks erupt either side of the catapult, which jerks back so that the beam is horizontal, causing Gemma to scream. Then with a “boing!” the catapult fires. Gemma is pinned by the g-force as the beam flies forward, but as she goes, the seat unfolds, forcing her body to straighten, so that as the beam reaches the vertical position she appears momentarily to be standing on thin air above the sludge.

It is at this point that the beam abruptly stops, and Gemma is depinned from it. Her momentum carries her a couple of metres through the air, covering about a third of the pool’s length, while her angular momentum causes her to tip forwards. Instinctively she thrusts out her arms to defend herself. Her legs also part as she makes her ungainly descent towards her sludgy fate.

She ploughs into the sludge on her fours, her downward facing torso causing a violent splash that splatters the walls of the pool and in some places the floor beyond. The only trace of the eighteen-year-old is a human-shaped imprint on the surface of the gunge, its limbs extended in haphazard directions.

Siobhan cheers ecstatically. Even though she already has an excellent vantage point from her throne, she gets to her feet to witness what will happen next. Below her, the gunge begins to thrash and churn, the sickly shades of green and yellow swirling. Then something begins to rise…

At first, all that rises are piles of claggy sludge. Some of these drop away as the object continues to emerge, and it takes on a vaguely spherical form. By process of elimination this must be Gemma’s head, though no features are discernible and it is not clear where her hair begins and ends. The general area that is her face is predominantly yellow, while the top of her head is mounded with sludge of a green hue. A blob of light blue clings to what might be her nose. Gemma’s eyes cannot be seen, presumably obscured by a mixture of fringe and sludge, but as her chin breaks free of the mire, her mouth bursts open, first taking a gasp of air, then curling and spitting in disgust.

By this point Siobhan is doubled over in hysterics at the sight of her daughter. The audience are also going crazy, many rising from their seats as they cheer.

Gemma clumsily fights her way upwards, one shoulder then the other breaking through. The thickness and heaviness of the goo proves a genuine struggle for her as she continues to splutter and groan. When she eventually fights her way to a standing position, the gunge comes up to her bust, indicating that the pool is indeed set deep into the stage (and it’s worth noting that Gemma is quite a tall girl…). Suddenly she screams and puts her hand to her chest, fearing that her crop-top might have slipped and exposed her. This turns out to be a false alarm, but the large amount of gunk that has entered the garment could easily have given the impression otherwise. Likewise, the miniskirt has provided no protection and she feels the gunge cold and wet against her panties. Slowly Gemma raises her face, casting a rueful glance towards her mum, who continues to clap and cackle.

Gemma: Oh my days!

Just as some sort of calm appears to be descending, so descends a huge batch of gunge from the rafters, just as thick as that in the pool, but a uniform bright green in colour. It catches Gemma right in the face, causing her to duck and stumble back up to her neck in the sludge.

Natalie: [stepping onto the scene] Ho-hoo!! That was immense! That girl has been green about the gills the morning after her nights out, but never quite like this!

Clara: Yes, that was absolutely amazing! The Sludge Sling worked to a tee, and we should see that again in slow motion!

An action replay recounts Gemma’s journey into the air and back down again, laying bare every jolt and spasm. Her fingers claw the air as she extends her arms, desperately searching for something to cling to. A few dollops of shepherds pie flick from her hair as she turns her face to the side. Her arms break into the sludge first, followed by her legs, which splash up a plume of yellowish grime between them. Then finally, Gemma’s front and head plant into the mire.

The scene returns to the present. Gemma is back in a standing position, up to her chest, still somewhat bewildered as she tries, without much success, to wipe the muck from her face and hair.

Natalie and Clara are standing either side of the throne, on which Siobhan has reseated herself.

Clara: Siobhan, my dear, you’ve settled the grudge in spectacular style! How are you feeling right now?

Siobhan: [casually brushing back her rice-pudding-filled hair] On top of the world!

Natalie: Well here’s something to raise your spirits even further. [Hands Siobhan a golden envelope] In there is the all-expenses-paid booking for you and your partner at a luxury hotel and health spa in the Scottish highlands. You’ll also find first-class train tickets, and we’ve thrown in £500 spending money so you can dine out on us!

Siobhan: Wow! Thanks you very much!

Clara: But here’s the real prize! [Holds up a giant certificate to the camera and reads it out]

 

Natalie: [pointing to a rectangular placeholder at the bottom of the certificate] And here’s a space for you to add your favourite photo of Gemma in the sludge!

Siobhan: Oh, fantastic! This’ll be taking pride of place in the living room and Gemma will be reading it each time she goes out!

Clara: Glad to hear it! Congratulations and thanks for playing. Everyone please give a massive hand to Siobhan!

The audience cheers as Siobhan brandishes her certificate in the air.

Natalie and Clara stroll to the pool’s edge and titter as they look down on Gemma.

Natalie: Gemma, I hope your ears weren’t too clogged for you to hear all that! The party’s well and truly over for you, lass!

Clara: Speaking of parties, don’t you be tempted to host one while your mum’s enjoying her break in Scotland; Nat and I will be round to check on you!

Natalie: Now, being as you are the first ‘user’ of the Sludge Sling, we’re all very eager to hear: What does it feel like?

Gemma: [pouting from her green-stained face] Cold! Wet! Heavy! Uggghh, I feel sick and not from alcohol this time!

Clara: Great to hear that the punishment is so effective!

Natalie: Gemma, I’m sure you understand there’s no Mallorca holiday forthcoming to you and your mates, but we are going to gift you a Grudge-2-Sludge towel and toiletry pack, and boy do you need it!

Clara: Thanks for taking part and being such a good sport. [To the audience] Let’s hear it for Gemma, please!

The audience applauds and Gemma responds with a wry nod and smile. Siobhan is among those clapping, but that doesn’t stop her bursting into laughter again when a deluge of purple gunge unexpectedly falls on Gemma, causing the girl to shriek and duck again as she receives a fresh coat of colour.

Natalie: Woooo! And the sludge keeps coming!

Clara: Ladies, gentlemen, everyone at home, this has been the pilot episode of Grudge-2-Sludge. We hope to return with a full series in the autumn, but there are certain people upstairs that need to be convinced.

Natalie: But assuming the series goes ahead, we’re looking for contestants. So if there’s someone you have a grudge with – or maybe you know two people who do – then please get in touch and we’ll help you get that grudge settled! You could win a fantastic prize!

Clara: [Gesturing Gemma] …Or you could end up very sludgy!

Natalie: Anyway, that’s all we’ve got time for tonight, so thanks for watching. She was Clara Quick.

Clara: And she was Natalie Lloyd. Good night everyone!

Natalie: Good night!

The audience breaks into sustained clapping and the outro music begins. Natalie and Clara stand by the pool and wave zanily as the camera zooms slowly out. Siobhan gives a regal wave from her chair. Gemma joins in, wearily waving a brightly coloured hand from her place in the pool.

While the music continues, a montage of the show’s highlights plays: a few snippets from the video reels; Gemma and Siobhan shaking on the deal; some scenes from the games, including some of the pieings from Flan the Frauds; the serving of the ‘three-course ordeal’; Siohban triumphantly yanking the golden chain; and finally an alternative camera view of Gemma being fired from the catapult into the sludge and her head subsequently surfacing from it.