Disclaimer: Although this story mentions real persons, corporations, TV shows and places, it is purely a work of fiction. The story does NOT describe real events and should NOT be taken to accurately portray any real entity mentioned. The events and activities described in the story may NOT be legal, ethical or safe. This site does NOT endorse or recommend their enactment.
Two girls walked onto a small soundstage, which was surrounded by all sorts of recording equipment. In the middle was a pair of clear plastic circles, with chairs inside them. The circles were about half a metre (or 20 inches if you prefer) high and two metres (you can multiply by 4, right?) across and somewhat resembled children’s paddling pools. The floor of one was canvas, the other some kind of metal grating.
Above the two “pools” was a large plinth with 52 large, black barrels marked with letters from A through to Z and put next to a matching barrel. The barrels were all made of steel, similar to toxic waste barrels, but had been stuck to boards with caster wheels. There was also a white barrel labelled “DEMO” which was at the edge of the plinth, held in some kind of mechanical cradle. A matching cradle was along the plinth, above the canvas-bottom pool. As they looked up at the set, the first one spoke. “Woah, that’s a whole lot of gunge,” she said quietly. Her blue eyes shimmered under the baking-hot studio lights. Her hair was long, smooth and black, quite a vivid contrast with her snow white skintone. She had a slim body with impressive, though not ridiculous cleavage. Her outfit was much the same as her friend’s – a white tank top, blue denim shorts and black sneakers.
“I’m so glad you volunteered to take it,” said the second girl. Her hair was shorter and blonde, with a fringe, and she had green eyes. “On the bright side though, at least you’re going to meet some celebrities.”
“So you say, but I’ve never heard of some of these names!” the dark-haired girl protested.
“Not my problem! Anyway, we should get into our positions. We’ve got some celebrities to gunge!”
The first celebrity stepped forward, accompanied by a second. Rather strangely, it wasn’t someone from the list of celebrities, but instead was Nicki Stevens and Suzi Harrison. The two girls looked startled as the two TV hosts started talking into a nearby camera. “Welcome to a special charity show,” said Nicki, who was looking stunning in a blue cocktail dress and heels. “I’m Nicki Stevens.”
“And I’m Suzi Harrison.” The Slop Drop host was wearing a more form-fitting red dress with high-heeled sandals. “As much as we’d love to host tonight’s proceedings, we are unfortunately quite tight for time. As such, we’re just going to introduce the show and its real hostesses. So Nickster, tell them about the show.”
Nicki nodded. “Inspired by some kind of smutty story series Suzi had read a while ago, this is the A to Z of Gunge. Backstage are twenty-six celebrities, who have come along to raise money for charity. To earn said money, they simply have to take a messing. Simple, if degrading and disgusting.”
“It’s not just the celebs who will be getting gunged,” added Suzi. “There’s one other person. Tiffany, say hi to the world!”
The dark haired girl stepped in front of the camera and stood between Suzi and Nicki. She waved nervously. “Hi world?”
“Tiff is a real trooper, aren’t you? I say that because you’re going to not just one-up the celebrities, but twenty-five-up them!” giggled Suzi.
Tiffany’s head gave very small, jerky nods. “If you mean I’m going to get all twenty-six gungings too, I sure am!” She forced herself into an awkward grin.
“I thought the people who came on our regular shows were mad,” Nicki rolled her eyes.
“Aww, no need to be like that, Nickster! Gunge can be fun! You should try some time, rather than just snarking about it while staying totally clean!”
The red-haired woman sighed. “Suzi, first of all, don’t call me ‘Nickster’. It makes me sound like some kind of teen boy twerp. Second, you know what they say about giving being far better than receiving. Anyway, there’s another person to meet. No gunge show would be complete without a good gunge master, and I think we’ve got one. Come here, Amanda!” The blonde girl stepped forwards and took the spot formerly occupied by Tiffany, who was now out-of-shot. “Say hi Amanda. You must be looking forward to gunging your friend.”
“Hi! Yeah. Tiffany sure is a lot braver than me for agreeing to do this,” Amanda smiled warmly.
“So are you going to be a fun gunge master like me or Dave Benson-Phillips, or are you going to be a grumpy old thing like Nicki or Noel Edmonds, only with less facial hair?”
Nicki gasped. “Are you saying I have facial hair?!”
“If it’s not hair, then what is that fluffy thing above your lips?”
“There’s nothing there!”
Amanda burst out laughing. “Uhm, I think I’ll just be me!” she said eventually.
“Good call,” said Nicki. “Well, we’ve met the hostess and the plucky victim. All that’s left is to show off our gunging machine.”
“Ooh, and it’s a goodie!” Suzi said with a squeal of delight. “I see there’s a test barrel ready too! Nicki, let’s use it… on you!”
Nicki crossed her arms and turned her nose up at Suzi. “You know as well as I do that there’s no way I’m going to get messy on television!”
“Fine, you be a cowardly custard!” Suzi huffed, walking over to the grating-floored pool. She pulled her shoes off and threw them on the ground, stepped into the pool and sat on the seat. “In your own time, sweetie!”
Nicki proceeded up some stairs, with Amanda following behind. They were met with a horrific stench, and so covered their faces. “Do you have any idea what it smells of up here?!” Nicki said, trying not to gag. “It smells like… everything. At the same time.”
“Well if you want to swap places…”
“No, I’ll survive. I’ll just send the UN Security Council a message reassuring them that there’s no chemical weapons up here,” grumbled Nicki as she made her way to a pair of levers. “Ready, Suzi?”
The brown-haired woman shrugged her bare shoulders. “I guess so.”
Nicki pulled the right-hand lever, which made the cradle holding the barrel tip forwards, taking the barrel with it. As it tilted, the contents began to seep out of the front and onto Suzi, who looked up slightly in anticipation. A thick, yellow liquid fell and splattered on her forehead, spreading through her light brown hair and onto her shoulders. As the barrel tilted further, the flow began to increase in speed. Suzi shivered as the ooze covered her, engulfing her from head to toe. Beneath the stuff she was grinning. All these gungings had became rather routine for her. She could taste a little bit of the goo in her mouth. It was sweet and quite tasty. She swallowed it and chuckled. “Custard. How fitting would it have been if it were you?”
“I’m not a coward, Suzi.”
“If you say so. I just love how I’m the one covered in custard, but you’re the one throwing her dignity to the wind,” Suzi smirked as she sat back in the chair and let the custard course all down her body. It seeped down her front, through her dress and began to touch underwear. “My God it’s cold though. Sticky too,” she said, wiping her eyes.
“Then maybe you should hit the showers. We need to be going soon anyway,” said Nicki, turning to Amanda. “Good luck with it.”
“Have fun!” smiled Suzi as she arose. The two veteran hosts walked off-stage and left the new girls to it.
An awkward silence fell upon the studio. “Well, what now?” asked Tiffany.
“I think this is the part where you take your position while I set up the first gunging?” Amanda suggested, resetting the cradle and removing the barrel. She replaced it with one of the ones marked with an ‘A’, along with its partner in the other cradle. “Okay, I’m ready. Let’s bring on the first celebrity!”
52 barrels. 26 celebrities. 26 messes. At least 4 authors. 1 Tiffany getting every single mess alongside the celebs. 1 Amanda dishing out the punishments. Let’s get this thing going! Part A will be up shortly, with B at least 24 hours on from that, C at least 24 hours after B and so on.