Comeuppance – Episode 4 result


The segment opens with Sian and the two guards standing next to the chair in front of the Mucky Dip.

Sian: Welcome back to Comeuppance, with me, Sian Welby. Voting has continued apace in this tight contest, and we’re very grateful to all who have done their democratic duty. Without your participation, we couldn’t have a show, so thank you. However, polling is now closed, so please don’t try to call in. If you do, your vote won’t count and you may still be charged.

Sian and the guards approach the cages.

Sian: Ladies, we’re just doing a final verification of the scores. It’s important to get this right, after all. We wouldn’t want to persecute the innocent, would we Stacy?

Stacy: [looking worried] W..why you asking me?

Sian: Cos that’s what you TV licence people do! [Strolls on to the right-hand cage] How you doing Deborah?

Deborah: [trying to look cool] Not too bad Sian.

Sian: [dawdles across to the left-hand cage] You feeling good about this, Lizzie?

Lizzie: [twitching] Can we just get on with it!?

Sian: Wow, first time I’ve seen a lawyer not want to drag out proceedings! Ok, here goes.

The lights go down, except for three beams illuminating the cages. The dramatic background music plays.

Sian: The public have delivered their verdict, and it is as follows:





The lights go up.

Deborah: [dancing] Oh yeah! Oh yeah!

Stacy: [exhaling] Oh, thank goodness!

Lizzie: [turning very pale] I want to refer this to a judge!

Sian: And the lead has switched! Guys, take Lizzie away to serve her sentence!

The guards unlock the door of Lizzie’s cage.

Lizzie: Wait! I have right of appeal! You can’t…

The guards yank Lizzie out of the cage and frogmarch her over to the chair while she struggles with every fibre of her being.

Lizzie: Let go of me! This is kidnap and false imprisonment! Cruel and unusual punishment! ASSAULT! ASSAULT!!

While Lizzie’s protestations continue in the background, Sian unlocks Deborah’s cage.

Sian: DeborahLeavesDeborah, I hate to say it, but you’re going back to North London as clean as you came, without your curly hair full of our nasty muck. How do you feel?

Deborah: Vindicated, Sian. We payday lenders have taken a lot of [moo!] from a vocal minority, but now the people have spoken and the hand-wringers can shut the [moo!] up!

Sian: Jammy Dodger TrophyDo you mind?! We haven’t had to use the naughty word bleeper for a couple of episodes now, and that includes the contestants getting gunged! Here, have a Jammy Dodger trophy to put in your window next to your ludicrous interest rates. Thanks for coming on the show.

Deborah: Mmm not a bad bit of bling this. Do you fancy parting with that bracelet or that necklace? I’m also in the business of buying gold and jewellery.

Sian: [instinctively covers her jewellery] No thank you! You’re like a magpie! Ladies and gents, a grubby little round of applause for Deborah please.

The audience slow-claps as Deborah walks off the stage, inspecting the trophy to see how much she can make from it. Sian moves on to the still-caged Stacy.

Sian:stacy7 Stacy, the voters have spared you the Mucky Dip this time round, but you’ll be back here next week, and you may get your comeuppance yet!

Stacy: [looking sanguine after her escape] I expect every single viewer to have a TV licence by then!

Sian: [walking over to the plinth] Actually folks, it is possible to watch Comeuppance legally without a licence – through our catch-up service. Simply visit, where you can watch the comeuppances over and over again! [Arrives at the plinth] And speaking of comeuppances, it’s that time of the show again! Izzy wizzy, let’s get Lizzie in the muck!

The fateful music plays as the scene switches to the edge of the Mucky Dip. The camera takes in the lumpy morass of grey-blue, red-pink and straw-coloured goo before ascending. A metre up, it meets Lizzie’s small bare feet, her toenails painted the same rouge shade as her fingernails. The camera proceeds up her dark trousers and past her lap. Lizzie sits with her hands on her hips. Onwards, the camera pans up her jacket and white shirt. Lizzie’s flame hair is tousled after her struggle with the guards. Her thin lips pout and her eyes roll upwards – perhaps to express her displeasure at the situation, or maybe to avoid looking at the muck.

Lizzie awaits her comeuppance

Sian: Dear me, she looks like a teenager who’s just been grounded!

Lizzie: [through gritted teeth] You are one button-press away from a very expensive lawsuit.

Sian: [holds up a piece of paper] Sorry Liz, but we have a contract here with your signature, agreeing to everything that’s about to happen to you! [Places hand on button] On behalf of everyone who’s been preyed upon by personal injury lawyers…

Sian and audience: HERE IS YOUR COMEUPPANCE!!!

Sian pounds the button, setting off the usual pyrotechnic spectacular. Hands still on hips, Lizzie drops to her demise. A huge cheer reverberates around the studio as gunge splashes skywards. A tsunami of the sickly colours surges over the rim, the lumpy mixture crawling down the side of the vat. An unsavoury squelching sound effect plays while the cables jiggle about. Then the cables tighten and winch their victim upwards, while the Fanfare of Humiliation plays.

To everyone’s amusement, Lizzie still has her hands on her hips, but that’s the only thing that is unchanged. The smart, smarmy, suit-sporting solicitor is now a manky muck-mangled mess, wearing the three unappealing colours in generous and roughly equal measure. One foot and leg is a coated in the fleshy pink-red, the other slathered in the dirty grey-blue, and there is a great pile of straw-coloured slop in her lap. Lizzie’s jacket looks like a Jackson Pollock painting, with overlaying stripes and splodges of the various colours. Her slimy, saturated shirt brings out the shape of what is a relatively ample bust for a petite woman, her boobs further emphasised by a coating of pink-red gunge in contrast to the surrounding blue. At her unbuttoned neck, lumps can be seen to run down inside her shirt.

A great mound of malodorous blue goo is piled atop Lizzie’s head. As for her face, this is coated with some particularly sicky beige gunk, with a little spot of off-pink on her nose. On one side, her basic facial features can be seen embossed in the gunk, albeit distorted by lumps, and a single eye blinks in shook. The other side of her face is completely misshapen, and it is only Lizzie’s gaping mouth that reveals her hair is plastered over this side.

Lizzie’s hands finally detach from her hips. They rise in front of her, claw-like as she spasms in the seat, then move in to rescue her face. She peels back the gunky curtain that is her hair, gagging at the taste in her mouth.

Lizzie: Greeeughhh-hhugghh-hhugghh! [Moo! Moo! Mooooo!!]

Sian: Oh dear, Daisy the cow is getting quite a workout tonight! Talk about a sus—OOHHHH!!

Sian reacts as four cream cannons erupt at the rim of the Mucky Dip – one in front of Lizzie, one behind, one at each side. The cheering of the audience crescendos to new heights as copious amounts of stale cream blast upwards at Lizzie. Within two seconds she is completely white.

Sian: My oh my! I didn’t know about that feature! Talk about a suspended sentence! An extremely popular comeuppance, judging by the reaction, and one that’s worth enjoying again in slow motion.

First up is the slow version of Lizzie’s comical hands-on-hips descent. Although her bodily stance is largely unmoved, her face can be seen to transform from defiance to dismay, as she realises that her legal threats have failed to save her and her gunging is a reality.

Sian: And the bird’s-eye shot!

The replay shows the mucky morass shimmer and shake as Lizzie’s feet penetrate, followed by a huge splash as her thighs and backside go in. Her ginger hair drapes on the surface for a moment, whirling in the vortex, before it too succumbs to the slop.

Sian: And finally the poolside view!

The rimside camera shows that Lizzie’s red-painted toenails are the first thing to enter the muck, followed by her feet and then trousers. Her pelvis and arms make a massive splash and there is just time to see her face in a grimace before sludge coats the camera.

The scene returns to present, Lizzie has wiped the worst from her face, but is otherwise throughly coated in the white cream and her gungy undercoat. The red of her hair is nowhere to bee seen. She shakes from a mixture of the slop’s cold embrace, sheer disbelief and immense humiliation.

Sian: So justice has been served, juris horribilis. Liz, you can slither back to Scotland and pursue your next compensation claim in your present state. With a smell like that, you’ll surely be in contempt of court! Ha ha ha!

Lizzie: [snaps, throwing her arms up] My next court case will be a claim against you, Welby!

Sian: Waste your time if you want. Anyway Liz, you were a good sport to sign up for this, even if you were less sporting at taking your punishment, so we’re grateful to you for that.

Lizzie: We’ll see who’s [moo!] sporting in court! This ain’t over! I’ll—glub!

The cream cannons let rip again, straight into Lizzie’s open mouth.

Sian: She’s right about one thing; it ain’t over! [Moves to the front of stage] And that brings us to the end of another very satisfying episode of Comeuppance! Don’t forget, this show is for you the people, so tell us what you think of the show and which professions you’d like to see face the Mucky Dip! Thank you for watching and good night!

The funky outro music commences and the camera zooms out from the stage, away from a waving Sian and over a jubilant audience. The scene then switches to Stacy, biting her nails as she looks up at the messy carnage through the bars of her cage. Then the camera is back on Lizzie, scowling as she tries to wring the muck out of her hair. The crew keep switching the cream jets on and off to tease her. The parting scene is a slow-mo of Lizzie’s head, shoulders and torso emerging from the muck, slathered in the nasty gunge.

About TG

Hunter of WAM media, author of WAM fiction, founder and administrator of the independent and community-led blog
This entry was posted in Foam/soap, Gunge, Stories. Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to Comeuppance – Episode 4 result

  1. Rat-A-Tat-Splat says:

    Assuming that you were genuinely asking for suggestions…

    Based on the idea that people voted for Stacy because they disapproved of the TV Licence in general, I’ll nominate coffee chain baristas for their high prices.

    Then there are hairdressers, who just won’t shut up. There’s a reason why men go to barbers, and the best barber I ever had was a Turkish guy that barely spoke any English. No chat, no bland pleasantries, just a haircut at a reasonable price. I’ll doubly-nominate this if we include hairdressers working out of “salons” that charge an arm and a leg for it, too.

    Staff at B&Q, Wickes, Screwfix etc. that know absolutely nothing about the products they sell. I’m not all that big on DIY, but what’s more infuriating than being greeted at the door of these shops by someone asking if they can help… who know less than I do? If you’re going to offer to help, be an expert and know more than I do about what I’m doing!

    Taxi drivers. They’ve got you as a captive audience, so they spend that entire forty minute ride home spouting the most outrageously ill-informed opinions about everything, simply because you can’t stop them.

    Teenagers working retail. Especially those in the “disaffected youth” category that act like being made to do their job is some kind of major inconvenience.

    Charity bucketeers. The kind that collar you in town centres and ask you to sign up to cure this, or save that. It was different when they actually had buckets and you could throw a few quid at them and walk away, but now they want your e-mail and your phone number, along with a monthly donation, just to harangue you at home, too.

    Cocktail bar staff. The kind that flash a little skin, have a little giggle and then sulk miserably when you don’t tip them. When you deliver good service you get tips. Not when you’re just acting slutty.

    Supermarket cashiers. They shove everything through the till in whatever order they want (not the order I laid it out on the conveyor belt) and they do it all at lightning speed and then chastise you for not bagging it up fast enough. They’re especially vindictive towards single men that refuse their offer to help with the packing.

    And, the ones with the worst habits of all…



  2. This is probably a bit of a deviation from the point of the show, but I’d love to see something like this done with subcultures. Chav vs. goth vs. hipster anyone? …Just me? Okay then. :L


  3. Henry Lee says:

    These were my suggestions from way back in episode 1:

    Charity Muggers- These people no doubt represent good causes but let’s seem how much they like people shaking buckets in their face filled with something slimy.

    Recruiters- those ever-so-slightly-flirty women who bombard you with unwanted job offers on linkedin. It’d be nice if someone offered them a position in the gunk dunk

    University Sabbatical officers- back in my day the primary role of these people was to offer themselves as candidates to be gunged during children in need rather than engaging in pointless gesture politics as they do these days.

    Professional ‘vloggers’, particularly the kind who only post make-up videos and ‘hauls’- a gunge makeover would no doubt net them some new subscribers?


↓ This is where you write something ↓

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s