I’ve broken the Epiphany Rule here, but I hope you’ll enjoy the result enough to forgive me that.
The scene reopens over the giant mince pie, where Sasha appears to be enjoying herself. She has broken up more of the crust to clear herself a larger area, and is doing backstroke in the gunge. The camera then sweeps across to meet Sian, poised in front of the cages. The guards-cum-elves are standing by.
Sian: Welcome back to this Christmas Comeuppance celebrity special! I know you’re impatient for the result, and our contestants even more so, so let’s cut the baubles and get straight to the poinsettia.
The studio is plunged into near darkness, except for three spotlights casting judgement on the contestants.
Sian: Celebs, the public have voted on your misdeeds, and their verdict is as follows:
Jayne and Josie raise their fists in celebration. Andrea responds with a noise somewhere between a groan and a whimper.
Sian: Oooh, it tightened towards the end, but Andrea hangs onto the lead! Lads, you know what to do.
The guards unlock Andrea’s cage and haul her out.
Andrea: [appealing to the audience] Who’d prefer to see Katie Price go in? She’d be up for it!
Sian: Oh give over about Katie Price! [To the guards] Go on, take her away!
As the guards march Andrea to the chair, she continues to make pleading faces to the camera, though mostly in jest. Sian unlocks Josie’s cage.
Sian: Meh, this is the only part of the show I don’t like. Josie, you jingled all the way through that vote in bottom place. Now it’s confirmed that you, your lovely dress, and above all that precious hair of yours are staying clean and dry. You must be walking in a winter wonderland!
Josie: [grinning] I’m simply having a wonderful Christmastime. Hallelujah!
Sian: Well it gets even better. After years of complaint from certain quarters, this vote has laid your Gunk Dunk controversy to rest, and if anyone brings it up again you can wave this Jammy Dodger trophy in their face.
Josie: [receiving trophy] Thanks very much, Sian. Now, at this point it’s customary for the escaping contestant to deliver some kind of downer to you, isn’t it?
Sian: [apprehensively] Yes…
Josie: Well, since it’s Christmas, I’m not going to do anything mean to you.
Sian: [relaxing] That’s very gracious of you. And what a good sport you’ve been to risk getting mucky in the name of charity. Ladies and Gents, grudging applause please for Josie d’Arby!
The audience slow-clap as Josie skips off stage. Sian walks over to Jayne’s cage.
Jayne: [sharply (no pun intended)] You gonna let me out then?
Sian: [smarmy] Not just yet, Jayne. You’ve got to take part in our special seasonal quiz, and although I don’t want to alarm you, there will be consequences for any questions you get wrong…
The guards wheel on trolleys stacked with buckets.
Jayne: Oi! I didn’t see this happening to any of the other contestants that came second!
Sian: Indeed you didn’t, but this is a Christmas special, so we’re doing things differently. Olive, school cook from St Noel’s School in Cumbria, has very kindly provided the leftovers from the school’s festive meal, and it wouldn’t be Christmas without children, so let’s bring on some St Noel’s pupils!
A selection of boys and girls, ages 11 to 16, run on stage. They jostle round the trolleys and arm themselves with buckets. Jayne scowls.
Sian: Don’t look so worried; if you get the questions right, you’ll remain clean. First up, you’re playing to avoid Olive’s gravy – cold and congealed of course. [Reads from a question card] What is the first word of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens?
Jayne: [pulling an incredulous face] You… what?!
Sian: That’s two words, Jayne, and neither is correct. The answer is in fact Marley. Punish that, kids!
The pupils don’t need telling twice. Gleefully they swing their buckets towards the cage. Slimy gravy sloshes Jayne from all directions, soaking her dress and turning it a muddy brown.
Sian: Never mind Jayne, you might do better in this question. You’re playing to avoid Olive’s super-starchy bread sauce. [Selects another question card] According to stats from the British Turkey Council – yes there is such a thing – what percentage of UK households serve turkey for their Christmas din-dins? And I do want it to the nearest percent; we like to be precise on this show.
Jayne: [sourly, with hands on sodden hips] Ninety.
Sian: No, it’s only 76, believe it or not. Kids!
The children lob bucketfuls of brownish-white bread sauce. Jane cowers, but inadvertently makes it easier for the kids to get her head. The bread sauce blankets her hair.
Sian: Of course, many people prefer cranberry sauce to bread sauce, so that’s what’s coming up next.
Jayne spits out bread sauce and pouts.
Sian: You’re really loving this, aren’t you?
Jayne: No, I [moo!!]ing hate it!
Sian: [tutting] Language in front of the children please! And that’s the wrong answer.
Jayne: What?! You mean that was the ques—?
Before Jayne can finish she is assailed by gelatinous ruby-coloured sauce. The boys especially get quite excited as they sling cranberry at Jayne’s ample cleavage. One 13-year-old, at the peak of puberty, slinks behind the cage and splashes a bucketload at Jayne’s bum.
Jayne: You little—
Sian: What did I say about language? We’ve got one more item to go – Olive’s extra squelchy stuffing. And here to deliver it is someone you’ve met before. Ladies and gents, give a warm welcome to Claire!
A slender, punkish woman strides onto the stage. Although a good decade older, and with her hair dyed turquoise instead of pink, she is recognisable as the girl that Jayne tormented in that infamous Wudja Cudja clip. In her hands is a hose, which she points at the cage.
Sian: Claire, I’m sure you’ve entertained many a dream of revenge over the years. Your chance is finally here. Jayne, here’s your question. [Readies another question card] Actually, sod the question; just let her have it!
Thick brown and green sludge gushes from the hose. Grinning, Claire sweeps it up and down, engulfing a snarling, swearing Jayne.
Sian: Now that’s what I call a stuffing! Ladies and Gents, Jayne Sharp – a good sport even if she does have a foul mouth.
The hose shows no sign of shutting down as Sian leaves the cages for the plinth.
Sian: Ah, it’s a real pleasure to be back here in the Comeuppance studio, and the most pleasurable part of all is still to happen. [Looks up] Ding dong messily on high! In heaven the smells are minging!
The portentous plaintive of Purcell plays (albeit with sleigh bells). The rimside camera is mounted just above the sprig of plastic holly, the grotesque Christmas pudding stretching beyond. The sickly brown muck glistens under the spotlights, lumps overlying lumps.
The camera rises, meeting the dangling hem of Andrea’s royal-blue ball gown. The camera progresses at leisurely pace, imbibing the slender form of Andrea’s legs encased in the exquisite fabric. Upwards the shot continues, sweeping over Andrea’s shapely abdomen and bust, her arms bare to the shoulders. She grimaces as she peers down, not liking what she sees but unable to take her eyes from it.
Sian: Look at her there – our Loose Woman all set to become a juiced woman! This lady was party to a messing of homeopathic proportions. She made a melodrama of it; she now claims to have been gunged. Let’s show her what a real gunging is. Andrea, by public demand…
Sian and audience: HERE IS YOUR COMEUPPANCE!!!
Sian plunges down the big red button. Lights flash and sparks fly. Bells chime an out-of-tune “we wish you a merry Christmas.”
This brief exclamation is all Andrea can utter as the chair drops from under her stomach. She plummets towards the Mucky Dip, disappearing with a splash of brown slop. A wave of goo washes over the rim of the vat, dislodging tinsel.
For a few seconds the cables waggle, while various squelching noises accompany a sinister “ho ho ho!” Then the cables go tense. Andrea rises, and so does a huge cheer from the audience. The sassy, brunette milf is a misshapen glob, encased from head to toe, mostly brown but with touches of yellow and green. The muck has whooshed up inside her dress, sandwiching the garment between two thick layers and sticking it to her body. Her eyes are coated over and her mouth pries itself open in a quest for air.
Sian: Wa-hoo!! Brilliant! Now this time she has something to be shocked about!
Andrea: [tentatively wiping her face] Oh… my… god! That is absolutely… arrrggghhh!!
Muck of a muddy green hue falls from above, so thick that it drops in dollops rather than pouring. It lands on Andrea’s head and sits there, accumulating in a pile.
Sian: Oh dear, that’s the leftover custard… from Christmas 2013! That was a real cracker of a comeuppance…
Andrea: Yeeurrrgghh!! This is a so gross!!
Sian: …And it’s the Christmas gift that keeps on giving, because we can unwrap it again and again in super slo-mo!
The replay commences, laying bare the minutiae of Andrea’s descent. Her hands clutch the underside of the seat, stark white. Her mouth arches tightly upwards and muscles bulge in her neck.
Sian: And from above!
The words “Merry Christmas” glisten beneath Andrea as she hurtles to her doom. These are scattered in fragments upon impact, the muck deforming down then springing up to swallow her legs. Moments later it closes over her bare shoulders and the crown of her head.
Sian: And let’s see the pud-side view!
The rushing air has lifted the draping folds of Andrea’s dress, enough to reveal her bare feet, toes tightly curled. These feet are the first part of Andrea to enter the muck. The dress billows further as it meets resistance from the surface, opening to allow plenty of the sludge inside. A wave is sent outwards as Andrea’s thighs and backside splash down, slopping over the camera lens just as her torso submerges.
Sian: There you have it folks; the Christmas we get we deserve!
Back in the present, Andrea has calmed down and is taking her comeuppance in good humour.
Sian: McLean by name, anything but clean by nature! Andrea, you can wear that coat of muck to the next episode of Loose Women, to serve as a warning to the others. Do you have anything to say for yourself?
Andrea: [laughing] Katie, you owe me big time!
Sian: Perhaps we’ll get her on at some point in the future. But well done for signing up for this; you’ve been a tremendous sport and raised lots of money for charity.
Andrea bows in acknowledgement to the applauding audience, but then a veritable blizzard of fake snow engulfs her, sticking to the muck.
Sian: Oh I love a white Christmas! That’s about all we’ve got time for on this special edition of Comeuppance. Sadly there are no plans for a second series, but we hope to…
Sian trails off as she notices Josie standing next to her.
Sian: Er, hi Josie. What are you doing back here?
Josie: You know I said I wouldn’t do anything mean to you? Well I changed my mind.
Josie whips out a pie that she’d been holding behind her back, and slams it into Sian’s face.
Josie: A Christmas present from all of the crew!
Sian staggers back, spluttering. For a few seconds she stands in stunned silence, her mouth gaping. Then she musters a grudging half-smile.
Sian: [wiping her eyes] Thanks for that – just what I always wanted! Thanks once again to everyone who took part in tonight’s show. Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
All I Want For Christmas is You plays as a pie-faced Sian wearily waves. Had she not been disorientated by the pie, she might have noticed a very gungy Sasha sneaking up behind her. Sasha grabs Sian in a bear-hug and drags her off towards the mince pie.
Sian: Arrrghh!! What are you doing?! You’re getting gunge on my dress! No no no – not in there! I’ve already been mucked once for Christ’s sake! Sasha!!
The camera sweeps over the audience, full of festive cheer. The scene then returns to Jayne, sulking amid a mountain of stuffing. Claire reaches through the cage bars and plants a sprig of parsley garnish on Jayne’s head. Then Andrea is shown, thoroughly white, waving at the camera as yet more snow cascades onto her.
The parting shot is of Sasha and Sian grappling beside the mince pie. Sasha manages to sweep Sian off her feet, raises her high above the mince pie, and tosses her in. But in a piece of scheduling frustration to rival Nicola Stapleton, the show cuts just before Sian smashes through the crust.