Or, the Author’s Folly, a tale in two parts. The second part to follow – before I actually deal with the results of round one!
This story is purely a work of fiction. The story 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.
“Welcome back to the preview show of the Messy Gunge Grand Prix!”
The pale and black-haired Adeline Becker, ever-present smirk playing over her face, stepped forward. “In part one, we interviewed some celebrity friends of some of this year’s challengers, but now it’s time to for me – with the help of Megan, and whatever Waverly does – to explain what this show is really about, and what makes it the Messy Gunge Grand Prix!”
“Now, I know that some of you at home have been placing bets on who you think will win this year, with the promise of some nice prizes for the winner. But you aren’t the only ones – we’ve got some lovely young ladies from universities across the country who’ve volunteered to make predictions of their own with, instead, the threat of absolute humiliation for the losers!”
“We’ll get the chance to meet our contestants and hear their predictions in a minute, but first, and quickly please, the rules. Megan?”
Megan jumped. Quickly? “Uh, each of our players gets six picks from the pool of celebrities. Each pick has to be unique, with special rules to ensure that only one can pick each celebrity, which… I’ll explain if it comes up! We don’t want everyone picking the same popular choices, you understand, because… eep!”
Megan gulped, realising that she’d gone off track, and worried what Adeline might do if she went much further. “Anyway, after each round those who have no celebrities remaining in the tournament will receive a messy elimination, but it doesn’t stop there – each player gets points for each choice they lose, and they’ll receive punishments for accruing lots of points. There will also be extra penalties if one of their picks loses badly, or suffers a popular upset, like a previous champion being eliminated early. And rule zero: Adeline is the boss.”
Adeline smiled. “And don’t you forget it, Megan.” She ostentatiously checked her watch. “You didn’t overrun too badly, and your description was adequate, so you’re okay. For now. Let’s meet our players for the Messy Gunge Grand Prix!”
A peppy fanfare played over the speakers as an extremely attractive young woman of uncertain ethnicity walked onto the stage, strutting as if on the catwalk despite her extremely high heels. Dressed to the nines in a miniskirt, top and jacket that between them still left plenty of gorgeous, coffee-coloured skin revealed, she strode forward to stand beside Adeline with a confident smile on her burgundy lips.
Adeline paused for a second, taking in the vision before her, before she spoke. “Welcome, contestant number one. Who are you, and why are you here?”
“Thank you, Adeline. I’m Petra, a student and model, and I volunteered to participate to help get my name and profile out there. I’ve seen for myself what it did for the girls who appeared on the WSL World Cup, and I’m willing to get my hands dirty if that’s what it takes to succeed.”
“Well, it won’t just be your hands that get dirty on the Messy Gunge Grand Prix, so I hope you’re ready for that! Who are your celebrity nominees, Petra?”
“Something I know well is that fortune favours the gorgeous, so I’ve made my choices based on that. My first picks are all beautiful models who I absolutely admire – Lindsey Pelas, Kate Upton and Cara Delevingne, plus Rosie Jones for a touch of daring and glamour, and two other super-attractive women from the worlds of music and drama – the lovely Pixie Lott, and the incredible Jennifer Lawrence.”
Megan spoke up. “That’s quite a selection you have there, Petra, with some definite favourites in there. As the first contestant, you’ve had the full selection to choose from, but we’ll have to see later if any other player tries to steal.”
“Thank you, Megan – and can I just say that I think you should update your wardrobe? You’re extremely pretty, and it seems a crying shame for you to hide that lovely body under all those layers?”
Megan blushed, shocked that anyone would be forward, and Adeline laughed. “Well, embarrassing Megan like that had definitely raised you in my estimation – and here I was, ready to see what I could do about your arrogance!” Her tone was friendly enough, but there was a definite undercurrent that both Petra and Megan couldn’t help but pick up on.
“Bad news, I’m afraid – Megan’s not going to update her wardrobe on her own. The good news is-” Adeline stopped talking abruptly, and her smirk widened. “Thank you to the gorgeous Petra, now please make your way over to the contestants’ area!”
The curtain on the side of the stage across from Megan’s desk swept apart, revealing an entirely new section of the stage – a large, open area and beyond sixteen tall, padded chairs in a four by four grid.
No sooner had Petra waved to the audience and departed than the fanfare blared again, and a cute young woman of medium height dressed in a dark blue and red cheerleader’s uniform bounded through the curtains. Her long brunette fell past her shoulders and was held back from her face with a large red bow. As she moved towards the front of the stage, she suddenly bounded into a cartwheel, bouncing out of it to face the audience with a wide smile on her face. Adeline raised an eyebrow.
“Well then. Contestant number two. Who are you and… what are you doing?”
“Hi Adeline!” The girl chirped cheerfully, her smile utterly undimmed. “I’m Becca, and I’m here to represent the Birmingham Pussycats!”
To be fair, the “Pussycats” written across the chest of the uniform could perhaps have been a hint. At her desk, Megan’s eyes narrowed, and she tapped frantically at her keyboard; before Adeline could reply, she gave a quick laugh.
“I thought I recognised the name! At a guess, I’d say you’re actually here to rehabilitate your team’s reputation after they were suspended by the university last year?”
Becca’s smile flickered, almost imperceptibly. “That’s all in the past! I’m here to show how B-ham cheer has the sassy attitude to go all the way to the top, and we’re all ready to have fun! And my choices are just as sassy – Save the Cheerleader, Hayden Panettiere! Bring It On, Kirsten Dunst! Riverdale Vixens, Lili Reinhart!-”
“All of the actresses from Riverdale play cheerleaders on the show,” Megan objected. Becca just grinned cheerfully.
“I’ve just always felt closer to Lili, because I’m a Betty too.”
“Your boyfriend is a gang leader? You once tried to drown a boy in a hot tub? Your mum is…” Megan paused and looked at Becca’s face, where the cheerful smile was starting to look slightly manic. Maybe she did have enough in common with Betty, at that. “Please, continue.”
“Every cheer routine needs some great songs, so I’ve also chosen Taylor Swift and Rachel Platten, and finally, Peyton List, because she has the best attitude!” She finished by thrusting her fist triumphantly into the air.
“Well. Thank you, Becca – let’s see if that enthusiasm can survive the competition! Of course, as a previous champion, Taylor Swift is a high risk pick carrying extra penalties… so good luck!”
Becca bounded off to the seating area as the fanfare played again.
The young woman who strode out onto the stage this time was rather different from Becca – a tall young woman with dark red hair tied in some elaborate arrangement, dressed professionally in a well-fitted grey business suit that only made the trim figure beneath more apparent. Her expression seemed to war with Adeline’s for cockiest smirk.
“Thank you for inviting me, Adeline,” she said – Adeline looked put out at being preempted. “I’m Lana, contestant number three, and I’m a law student here to win this competition. Unlike most of the contestants, I’ve thought this through, and chosen my nominees carefully: Emma Watson, Karen Gillan, Jenna Coleman, Margot Robbie, Taylor Swift and Ariana Grande.”
Adeline paused her eyes narrowing at Lana’s presumption. “An interesting selection – five previous champions, and one of this year’s favourites. Megan?”
“It’s an interesting plan, but I’m not sure it will work quite as well as you’re hoping Lana. The first flaw – since Taylor Swift has already been selected, you’ll need to steal her from Becca as per our special rules!”
A tense, martial-sounding tune blared over the speakers briefly. Megan waited for to die off, then continued. “It’s a little earlier than I expected, I’ll admit. Let me explain the rules of stealing a nominee.
“In order to get the right to steal a nominee, you need to be prepared to raise the stakes. If you say ‘raise’, you’re demonstrating that, and permanently doubling the points you’ll get for that nominee’s elimination, regardless of what happens next. Or, you can think again, and make another choice. Lana?”
The arrogant redhead’s expression wavered for a moment, before firming. “I’m here to win. Raise!”
“Very well. In that case, the choice now falls to Becca.” The cameras focused on the peepy cheerleader sitting next to Petra in the contestants’ area. “You can ‘fold’, ceding this nominee to the challenger and making a new choice for yourself with no penalty. Or you can ‘match’, agreeing to double your points as well.
“At that point, our two players, having equal right to the nominee, will compete in a special challenge. The winner will get to keep the nominee – with their double points on it. The loser, however, will be assigned the opponent in this round – in Taylor’s case, Kate Beckinsale – and they with a double score at that. Quite a gamble!”
Becca’s manic smile wobbled slightly. “Why don’t we all just be friends? I’ll ‘fold’, and let Lana keep Taylor out of the goodness of my heart. My new nominee is… Mollie King. I’ve cheered to the Saturdays, too!”
Adeline looked slightly disappointed, though whether at the lack of competition or that Lana had so easily got her own way wasn’t clear. Lana’s smirk grew even cockier. Seeing this seemed to firm up Adeline’s resolve.
“Of course, having put double points on Tay-Tay only increases the risk of this – remember, extra penalties for previous champions like… basically all of your choices. And you may have successfully stolen – but our next contestants will have the chance to steal from you in turn!” With that, her smirk widened to match Lana’s and she deliberately turned her back on the arrogant young woman. “Next!”
The fanfare blared again as Lana huffily made her way to her seat, and a beautiful caramel-skinned vision appeared through the curtains. Dressed in a denim jacket over a bright yellow top, along with tight, black and white yoga pants, she brushed her long, wavy dark brown hair to one side and half-smiled half-pouted at the audience with her full lips.
There was a moment of pause before Adeline spoke, as she’d expected to be interrupted again; the other woman waited patiently, giving a sultry look to the audience.
“So… contestant number four. Welcome to the Messy Gunge Grand Prix, please can you introduce yourself?”
“Thank you, Adeline,” said the woman, a soft, barely-perceptible accent colouring her words. “My name is Denisse, and I’m a Colombian studying in the UK – I’m eager to represent my country and my continent in this competition. Would you like me to give you my nominees?”
“Certainly. And thank you!”
“To represent, I’ve chosen the South American celebrities for my nominees – Camila Cabello, Chrysti Ane, Lilimar Hernandez, Taynari Conti, and of course my countrywoman Sofia Vergara. And for my last pick, I went with Camila Mendes – she’s from the US herself, but her parents are Brazilian.”
“Thank you, Denisse – it’s nice to have simple picks like that without any fights or arguments! I hope our next contestant can be as pleasant and helpful as you’ve been!”
The fanfare blared. The curtain twitched. And then, a young woman appeared, moving hesitantly onto stage. Undeniably pretty, although not nearly as glamorous as her predecessor, she was dressed casually in a full red top, loose jeans and a short black coat. Peering rather timidly at the audience through a large pair of glasses, she moved to the front of the stage, her blonde hair swinging behind her in a loose ponytail.
Adeline smirked, and gestured for her to speak. The girl gulped, before plucking up her courage. “Hello. I’m Quinn, a second-year med student, and I’m here to prove that I’m not bo… I mean, I’m here to show how I’m a fun-loving student having a good time!”
Adeline’s smirk widened. “That’s not exactly the complete story though, is it?” She turned to the audience.
“Although Quinn has fully agreed to take part in the contest, her initial application was done without her knowledge by her course-mates as a joke! They didn’t expect her to be accepted – and still less, for her to leave the library long enough to actually agree! Mind you, she was a fairly easy pick – we wanted our contestants this year to be a nice mix of students, rather than just a bunch of exhibitionists – this isn’t Love Island!”
“The allergy checks didn’t help either,” Megan stage-muttered. “We definitely couldn’t afford the liability risk of giving anyone anaphylactic shock.”
“Well, fortunately enough, we’ve now got Quinn to treat it anyway! Who are your nominees, Quinn?”
“Smart is sexy – I’ve gone for Rachel Riley and Carol Vorderman, for obvious reasons, plus Pauley Perrette, because Abby Sciuto is awesome. Then Sophie Turner and Rose McIver, because I love Game of Thrones and iZombie, and finally, of course, Emma Watson.”
“Hmm, an interesting selection,” observed Megan. “There’s only one issue – Emma Watson has already been chosen by Lana. Are you ready to raise?”
Quinn looked nervous for a moment, then her expression settled. “For Hermione! Raise!”
The camera focused on Lana, who looked intensely irritated. “I’m not going to back down against a med student – law is just as prestigious! Match!”
Adeline laughed. “It looks like Quinn and Lana are going to head-to-head! Time to go over to Waverly!”
The curtain behind the contestant’s area whisked open to reveal the ever-cheerful Waverly accompanied by two burly stagehands, each carefully carrying a table on which stood a cauldron. They set them down in the open area between the main stage and the contestants’ chairs, all of whom were trying to peer at what was in the bowls.
Waverly giggled. “Thanks, Addy! Our first game, in honour of Hermione, is Snitch Bobbing! Concealed in each of our Potion Cauldrons is a Golden Snitch, and the first one to retrieve it is the winner! Don’t be afraid though, Muggles – it’s not dangerous potions we’re keeping in there, but something that students like you should be much more familiar with – baked beans! Oh, and of course – just like with Apple Bobbing, no hands allowed!”
Both of the girls looked ill at ease with the challenge before them – Lana realising, perhaps for the first time, that she really was going to get messy, and Quinn remembering all too well many unsuccessful attempts at apple bobbing as a child. Their expressions made Adeline smile. She clapped briskly.
“Come on then – time to play! 3…2…1… go!”
Clever Quinn quickly sized up her major advantage in this game, and, after swiftly removing her glasses, with no hesitation she applied herself to the task. As she had surmised, Lana was much more hesitant, peering into her cauldron with dismay for precious seconds before she made her first attempt.
By that point, Quinn was already making a second attempt after coming up for air,her blonde hair swirled orange with tomato sauce, and it was now that Quinn’s second advantage became apparent. Her ponytail, while far from the height of fashion, was almost perfect for a game such as this, sturdy enough to survive repeated dunkings while keeping her hair out of her face.
Poor Lana, on the other hand, was struggling – as was her elaborate and stylish hairstyle. With each desperate attempt she made, it only fell apart further, and before long Lana was distracted by having to spit her stray red hairs out of her mouth every time for took a desperate gasp for air. Her increasingly desperate dives into the cauldron had started get tomato sauce over her smart white shirt, as well.
Lana actually had her head deep in the cauldron at the moment that Quinn bobbed triumphantly up, the snitch caught neatly in her mouth, and Waverly had to tap her on the shoulder to let her know. She jerked out of the cauldron with a start, a crushed bean stuck to her nose, no longer exactly the image of the smart, aspiring lawyer she had started as, and looked over at Quinn in disbelief.
Quinn, for her part, looked gleeful at her victory, uncaring of the mess. Her incongruously clean glasses back on her messy, bean-smeared face, she turned, almost catching Adeline with the end of her ponytail, which at some point had gone into the cauldron as well.
“It looks like our winner is Quinn! As such, she gains Emma Watson as a nominee, but with a double-score if she loses. And as for our loser, Lana – she now has a double-score on Emma’s opponent in this round – AnnaSophia Robb!”
Quinn and Lana were handed a towel each to clean up with as Adeline made her way back to the stage to greet the next contestant.
And, well, this was more of type of expected contestant than the shy Quinn. A short, slender Japanese girl dressed like she was going clubbing strode confidently onto stage on strappy red shoes that tried to add to her height. Her black hair was also in a ponytail, but this was a neat and trendy high one that left a long fall of hair swaying behind her.
“Welcome, contestant six!”
“Thanks, Adeline!” replied the girl, with a slight birmingham accent. “My name’s Hana, and I’m a student and dancer studying at Exeter.”
Adeline looked at Hana’s clothing, and raised an eyebrow. “What kind of dancer, exactly?”
Hana just grinned, and didn’t respond.
“Your predictions, please?”
“I’ve learned as a dancer that confidence is queen, so my celebrities are people whose attitude I admire. I’ve gone for Lucy Pinder, Kelly Brook, Anna Kendrick, Hailee Steinfield, Olivia Holt, and… well, those workout videos! Madeleine Petsch!”
“Thank you, Hana. If Megan has nothing further to add…? Then you can make your way to the contestants’ area, and we can meet our next player!”
The fanfare blared – it was rapidly becoming quite annoying – and the next contestant stepped on stage. Her clothes were immediately recognisable as a reproduction of Harley Quinn’s iconic costume from Suicide Squad – and they didn’t look like a cheap costume rental version either. The girl wearing them was certainly pretty enough to look good in them, even if she was no Margot Robbie, and the finishing touch of the hairstyle looked like her own, dyed, rather than a wig.
“Welcome, contestant number seven! Are you Harley, or Margot?”
The girl giggled. “It’s Casey. I’m a student and semi-professional cosplayer, but I thought this competition would be a great opportunity to increase my experience at cosplaying in public – if I can do it here, any con should be easy!”
“… You’re certainly not wrong. Who are your predictions, Casey?”
“I’m supporting my idols, and my inspirations – Jessica Nigri, Marie-Claude Bourbonnais, Meg Turney, Barbara Dunkelman, Melissa Benoist – I did a pretty good dual Kara/Supergirl cosplay last year, by the way – and, of course…” she pointed with both thumbs at her costume – “my girl Margot Robbie.”
Megan spoke up. “Only problem there, as I’m sure you’re aware, is that Margot Robbie has already been chosen by Lana. Are you prepared to raise the stakes?”
“As easy-going as I am, I can’t really rock this costume and not support Harley, can I? Raise!”
The camera went to Lana once again, who looked genuinely enraged at another challenge. She was also clearly not fully recovered from the last – although she had managed to scrub the beans from her face and hair, there were a few orange stains on her shirt that were not so easily removed, and despite her best efforts to restore her hairstyle it was noticeably tattered and lopsided.
“Match! I am not losing another one of my nominations to some-” She cut herself off with some effort, visibly fuming.
“Yay!” cried Waverly. “Another challenge! In honour of Margot Robbie, this one is ‘Escape from the Sewers of Gotham’!”
With an improbable, unexpected clunk, the entire floor of the open area before the seats began to retract, revealing a large pool of uncertain depth filled with unpleasantly murky green slime – though, at least, it certainly wasn’t actual sewage.
“The keys to your escape have fallen into the sludge, and it’s a race against time, and each other to retrieve them! The winner is the one who manages to have grabbed the most keys after one minute has passed!”
Both Lana and Casey stared at the pool. Casey raised an uncertain hand. “Can I take my boots off?”
Adeline smiled. “You can take off as much of your clothes as you want – and since I’m feeling generous, I’ll even let you put them back on afterwards!”
Casey swiftly removed her boots and jacket, and rolled up the sleeves of her top. Lana similarly removed her high heels and jacket, and considered the rest of her clothes for a moment. Her white shirt would stain from the sludge easily, and her trousers put her at a definite disadvantage against Casey’s short shorts! – but in the end, modesty won, and she contented herself with rolling up her sleeves.
The two contestants slipped into the knee-deep sludge, Lana releasing an unplanned squeal as she did so. They looked to Adeline to start them off – and at the moment they did so, she dropped her hand.
Immediately, frantic music began to blare over the speakers, and the two girls swiftly started to fish into the sludge for the keys. The worst thing about the pool was that the bottom of it wasn’t flat – and thanks to the murkiness of the sludge, this wasn’t apparent. It may have merely been knee-deep at the edge, but it was deeper still further in – and it didn’t do so steadily, either, as Lana discovered to her shock when she suddenly found herself plunging into the muck almost to her waist. At least she’d managed to keep her balance and not fall over completely, she thought.
That was the only good part of it, for her – whether due to luck or to being more active and athletic than the law student, Casey had found one key almost immediately and had managed to find a second as Lana flailed in the deep end. Then Lana felt something with her toes – a key! She started to reach down to pick it up before realising that as deep as the sludge was here, to retrieve the key would require her to almost submerge herself completely. Thinking quickly, she used her feet to shuffle the key over to a shallower patch before triumphantly retrieving it – but all of this had cost her precious time. At least Casey hadn’t yet managed to find a third key, but she was still in the lead! Lana panicked and tried to move quickly to the as-yet unexplored far end of the pool, only to find herself slipping in the murky slime. She screamed, but managed to catch herself with her hands before falling under completely.
And by chance, one of her hands had fallen onto a key! A draw!-is what Lana got to think for exactly one second, before she heard Casey’s cry of triumph upon finding her third key – just as the klaxon sounded.
The two contestants made their way out of the sludge, Casey noticeably more triumphant than Lana.
“It looks like another loss for Lana – and another of your picks gone. Your new nomination – with a double score, at that – is Margot’s opponent in this round, Asami.”
Having won – and managed to get her choice of nominee to fit her costume – Casey looked pretty cheerful. It probably helped that the sludge hadn’t done much harm to her costume, the few splats and stains on her top only serving to help the distressed look, while the slime easily wiped off of her fishnets, especially with the help of a towel.
Lana as much less happy – one of her sleeves had fallen loose at one point, dropping into the sludge and looking quite stained, while her trousers were wrecked, drenched with sludge to her upper thighs – something than the towel provided couldn’t do much to help with. She almost regretted not having taken them off… but that would have been far too embarrassing!
She squelched her way back to her seat and sat down with a huff as the fanfare heralded the arrival of the next contestant.
The woman who stepped through the curtains this time was noticeably older then her student competition, perhaps in her late twenties. Dressed similarly to Lana in a business suit, albeit with a knee-length skirt rather than trousers, and dark brown pinned hair elegantly framing her heart-shaped, bespectacled face.
She smiled confidently as she stepped forward to join Adeline at stage front.
“Welcome, contestant eight! You certainly don’t look like a conventional student – what’s your story?”
“I’m Isobel, and I’m an accountant back at university as a mature student to study for a second degree in finance to accompany my first in maths. I’m here to show these girls that experience of the world counts for a lot more than mere youthful exuberance – starting with my choice of nominees! I’ve noticed so far that a lot of the more mature celebrities in the Gunge Grand Prix have been left by the wayside, so I’m here to correct that – my choices are Michelle Fairley, JK Rowling, Helena Bonham-Carter, Shirley Manson, Cameron Diaz, and Alyson Hannigan.”
“Thank you, Isobel,” said Megan. “All legitimate choices, so far unselected – and with an average age between them of just over fifty.”
Adeline ushered Isobel towards the contestants’ area as the fanfare blared yet again.
If Isobel had been older than the girls before her, the girl who stepped through now seemed younger. Certainly not physically – the figure underneath her tight brown riding uniform proved that, at least – but the sulky expression on her face brought to mind a recalcitrant toddler. The impression wasn’t helped by the snootily upturned snub nose or the elaborately styled long and curly butter blonde hair – and the way she stomped her way to the front of the stage in her long black riding boots definitely finished the look.
“This is ridiculous!” The girl began, impeccable English coloured slightly with a faint Estonian accent. “Daddy’s lawyers will make you tear up your ridiculous contracts!”
“Welcome to the show, contestant 9. You don’t seem to want to be here – but why did you sign the contract in the first place?”
“I wanted to humiliate some stupid English peasants, of course! But this ridiculous obsession you British have with slime is disgusting – do you know how much this hairstyle cost? At least I could choose to wear my most practical clothes!”
Adeline blinked. “Your most practical clothes are… a horse riding outfit? Anyway, could you at least introduce yourself, tell us your name?”
“My name, and make sure you pronounce it correctly, is Katye, and I’m an Estonian studying in this filthy country at a so-called university that’s supposed to be the best in the world. Only now my enrollment is tied up with your ridiculous contracts just because of a few previous ‘incidents’, and some stupid peasant girls who complained!”
“I… think I understand. Very well – who are your nominations, Katye?”
“The first was easiest – I chose Gwyneth Paltrow, of course – the things she sells are wonderful products, and at such affordable prices as well!”
“This would be her Goop store, yes? Not exactly known for reasonable prices by most normal standards… but the known is pretty appropriate for this contest, at least!”
Katye sneered. “Ugh. British humour. I also chose Stephanie McMahon, since as a businesswoman she would understand the importance of money, and then I resorted to a careful selection of ambitious and talented young women – Maria Sharapova, Daniella Perkins, Miranda Kerr, and Daya.”
“None of them British, I note.”
Katye smiled. “Of course not.”
“Well, thank you, Katye – I look forward to seeing how you fare after the results. Time for our next contestant!”
The fanfare blared yet again as the next contestant stepped onto stage. She was a freckled girl with frizzy ginger hair dressed oddly in a T-shirt, trousers with a question-mark pattern, big brown boots, and an extremely long, multicoloured scarf wrapped around her next several times, and almost, but didn’t quite, obscure that the print on her T-shirt showed the faces of every actor to play the main character on Doctor Who.
She grinned wildly as she stepped up to join Adeline.
“Contestant ten, welcome to the show! I’m gathering that you’re a fan of… Star Trek, perhaps?”
The young woman laughed. “Very funny, Adeline! Before I begin, I just want to say: Mandip Gill for GGP 2019! Whoo! My name’s Grace, student and president of my uni’s Sci-Fi Club, and as I’m sure you can guess, I’m here to support the many cast members of Doctor Who in the Gunge Grand Prix.”
Adeline nodded. “So I think we can safely assume that your nominations will be…?”
“The Thirteenth Doctor, Martha, Amy, Clara, Sally Sparrow and Astrid Peth.”
Megan chuckled. “Better known to most people as Jodie Whitaker, Freema Agyeman, Karen Gillan, Jenna Coleman, Carey Mulligan, and Kylie Minogue. The only problem being, unfortunately, that two of your choices have already been selected… and both of them by Lana.”
“I can’t blame her, because Doctor Who is obviously the best, but I’m not about to abandon Amy or Clara. I’m ready to raise for both.”
“You’ll have a chance to reconsider after the first challenge. But for Karen Gillan – Lana, match or fold?”
The camera focused on the aspiring lawyer, now looking even more annoyed than before. “It’s not fair for her to try to steal two of my nominations! This is blatant victimization! Match!” She made a desperate attempt to appeal to Adeline.
“There’s nothing in the roles against this – and I think it’s clear enough in this case than Grace’s choice have nothing to do with you anyway. Still, since we’re now going head-to-head , it’s over to Waverly to explain the next challenge!”
“Our next game is called ‘Taster Session’! It’s a simple task of rewarding which of you is the best at recognising flavours… of the pies that I slam into your faces!” She pulled a pair of blindfolds from behind her back. “Please put these on, you two. There are three flavours of pies; the winner is the one who correctly identifies the most flavours.”
Grace carefully unwound her scarf and placed it on the floor next to her before placing the blindfold securely over her eyes. Lana decided to keep her jacket on this time – and in her case, Waverly double-checked that the blindfold was placed correctly. She carefully stood the two girls next to each other before skipping behind the curtain – emerging holding two large blue cream pies, somehow managing to balance one on each hand casually and easily. Still more impressively was how she managed to slam the pies directly into the faces of Grace and Lana with no pause whatsoever.
“Gah!” Lana spluttered. “Ugh… this is…”
For her part Grace was silent, thinking as she carefully tasted a little of the pie splattered over her face. It certainly reminded her of something, but… the penny dropped.
“It’s blueberry!” Grace shouted. “Hah, it’s a reference to Karen playing Nebula, I bet – I guess our faces are bright blue right now as well!”
As it happened, she was right on both counts – though the force with which Waverly had struck meant that their hair and clothes has received a fair bit of splatter as well. The two girls tried to wipe as much of the pie off of their faces as they could, to avoid mixing up the flavours if nothing else.
Once again Waverly returned bearing a pie in each hand, but this time Lana – now more desperate than ever not to lose yet another challenge – was listening carefully enough to hear her approach. At the very last moment before the pie struck her face, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue – and immediately regretted it.
The force with which Waverly slammed the pies into their faces meant that, with Lana’s mouth open wide, she soon found herself choking. It was extremely uncomfortable,but at least she was able to – amidst wheezing for breath – to gasp out “Strawberries and cream!” a mere moment before Grace could.
Lana struggled to catch her breath and prepare herself for the final challenge, with all to play for. Grace felt equally tense, the two young women standing next to each other and almost feeling the tension of each other. Lana couldn’t help but wonder how bad she looked at this point – she prided herself on looking the model of a put-together lawyer, but now she was standing in slime-soaked trousers, her once-pristine white shirt stained with beans and pies, with bedraggled hair, and with pie filling and cream dripping off of her face. She was so focused on her concern about this that she missed Waverly’s return, and the slam of the final pie into her face took her by complete surprise.
She screamed in shock, her arms flinging into the air, and globs of pie flying from her face. It only took her a second to realise what was happening, however, and she frantically began to slide the bits of pie from her face and into her mouth. It was a pretty distinct flavour.
“Chocolate! It’s chocolate!” Lana shouted, the instant before Grace’s shout.
Unfortunately for Lana, Grace’s shout was instead the more complete “Chocolate coconut!” – and that was indeed the correct answer, as Adeline gleefully announced. The enraged Lana ripped the blindfold from her face – further disturbing her hairstyle – her clean eyes almost seeming to blaze with rage in the midst of her pie-smeared face.
“No! This is ridiculous and unfair!” She stamped her foot, wobbling slightly on her heels as she did so, then threw up her hands in rage. Adeline handed her and Grace towels – not quite managing to suppress her smile as she did so – and turned to look at Megan as the two contestants frantically tried to scrub the mess from their faces and clothes. The latter was somewhat easier for Grace, on the grounds that a slightly messy t-shirt was frankly no big deal.
Megan spoke up. “The winner of that challenge was Grace, so she gains Karen Gillan as her nominee at the cost of double points for her. Lana gets her opponent, Amy Lee, for double points instead… you’re building up quite a stock of double pointers, Lana! In any case, time now for Jenna Coleman – are you still prepared to raise for Clara, Grace?”
Lana shot an angry look at Grace, perhaps hoping to intimidate her into backing down. It didn’t work. “Yes, I do. Raise!”
“And I match!” Lana shouted. “I am not losing another of my nominations to you!”
A strange creaking sound started across the set. Waverly bounded through the curtains, followed by burly stage hands, two of whom were carrying low benches, and two more pushing a bizarre contraption.
It seemed to consist of a large wheeled structure leading to two plexiglass boxes, each open on one side opposite to the other, and each with a wide pipe or spout at the top leading to a large opaque trough above both of them, and at the very bottom, a wide, empty tray. Waverly proudly presented it to the audience, before handing each of the girls a small pair of swimming goggles.
“The next challenge is called ‘Chicken Shit’ – a test of courage and determination to see which of you has the strength of will to deserve to win, and which of you is just chicken shit! All you have to do is lie on the bench and stick your head into the box, face up – the loser is the first to get scared and get out of there!”
“…And what’s in the trough?” asked Grace nervously.
Waverly grinned. “Well, there’s a clue in the name!”
Lana gagged just thinking of it, and Grace looked just as queasy at the prospect. But quite suddenly, Lana smiled.
The previous challenges had been physical things, but this was actually more of a psychological one – this was her area!
“Hey, Grace – I can’t imagine it’s easy to take care of hair that frizzy – can you really get mess out of with just a towel?” she asked, innocently. “I’d imagine that you get things just clumping up in there, and tangling… it must be a nightmare!”
Grace looked uneasy for a moment, but then clenched her jaw and devoted herself to ignoring Lana, fixing the goggles over her face with an expression of determination. Lana kept at it, grinning as she put her own goggles on.
“How familiar are you with chicken manure? I mean, you don’t really strike me as a rural type. Not that I am myself, of course, but I’ve actually read a little case law involving it, an amusing coincidence. Apparently, the smell of it lingers in a way that other kinds of muck spreading doesn’t – there are a lot of ordinances and what not limiting its use as a fertilizer due to the way people complain excessively about its ‘unpleasant odor’.”
The girls reclined on the benches, and placed their heads into the boxes simultaneously – though Grace now did so with somewhat more hesitation than Lana.
“Mind you, there’ve actually been uses found for that specific property, as well – some town councils have used it as what they call a ‘human deterrent’ to chase off tramps and the like, which just makes you think… I mean, homeless bums don’t smell great at the best of times, and if the smell of it is too much for them…”
“Lana,” Grace observed, “Are you sure you want to keep opening your mouth in this context?”
Lana paled, and snapped her mouth closed with a snap. Unfortunately for her, she’d devoted a fair chunk of her considerable intellect to thinking of ways to make the situation they were in seem as unpleasant as possible… and now all of those thoughts were rambling around in her brain, affecting her only. She whimpered involuntarily.
The trough above gurgled, and with a cry Lana launched herself off the bench. Realising that she had won, Grace followed… but not quite quickly enough. The contents of the trough began to flow through the pipes, slowly at first, and although Grace managed to avoid catching any on her face, she wasn’t quite swift enough to have avoided the stream entirely. With a whimper of disgust, Grace raised one hand to her hair, where a few bits of the stuff had matted in her hair. It was foul…. but, hey, didn’t people always say that having a bird do that onto you was lucky? In a way, it had been – she’d won again! She started to brighten up.
“I won’t accept this!” Lana screamed. “I… challenge this! Or I raise again!”
“That’s not fair!” Grace objected. “You can’t raise a second time! And I have chicken poop in my hair!”
Megan considered things. “Actually… the rules don’t specifically prohibit it. I think the ultimate ruling has to come from Adeline.”
Adeline considered this. “Well, as it happens, I believe we’re due for a commercial break, so I’ll take advantage of the time to think this over properly. Don’t go away, we’ll be back with much, much more!”