Sometimes it wasn’t clear where Chrissie Williams the character ended and Chrissie Williams the person began. For the past four years she’d played the role of the alpha bitch host of the popular TV show Talent Spotters. It was difficult to believe that today would be her final appearance on the show. Right now was her last time getting her hair, make-up and feet done ahead of the taping of the finale of the current series. Usually she would have been getting worked on alone, but her dressing room today was shared with Daisy, the girl they’d selected to be her replacement. Chrissie had been asked to host this series finale along with her to help ease her in and to try and make for a smooth transition for the show’s audience. Soon she would be moving from Britain to America to co-present a popular talk show over there. This was the biggest break of her career so far, but in order to make it, she was going to have to say goodbye to both Talent Spotters, and to Chrissie Williams, a character who she felt in many ways was her greatest, but also her worst, creation.
Talent Spotters had started off just like any other talent show, but came at a time when the public’s appetite for fame-hungry contestants seeking their five minutes of fame was starting to wane. Although they were doing okay in the ratings, the channel had been expecting a massive hit, so the producers – which included Chrissie herself – had been forced to come up with ideas to try and grab a higher level of attention. So they came up with the rather cruel notion of subjecting the least talented, or at least the most annoying, contestants to various embarrassing, and usually messy, forfeits, such as pieing them in the face or covering them in gunge. This was such a success that the forfeits became by far the most popular part of the show, to the point that it got where it was no longer just the worst contestants who ended up facing the mess, but almost anyone who performed apart from the winners. So as the hostess, she’d come up with an alter-ego to fit this new edge to the show: a cruel, merciless mistress of the mess who relished tormenting those brought before her. This meant that Chrissie had a weird relationship with the fans of the show; at once, they loved her humiliating any contestant they didn’t like, but they hated her if she targeted someone they viewed as undeserving of such cruel treatment. By this point in the show’s run, it was safe to say she was absolutely reviled across the country.
Evil was sexy, and with her tousled auburn hair that had a sultry, windswept look about it and dazzling low cut silver dress, Chrissie screamed carnality. It was a well-known fact that Chrissie Williams had a small army who slaved over every aspect of her appearance and indulged her every whim (in reality it was usually only Ron and Bethany, who although they did an excellent job, did force her to make her own tea). A pair of silver embellished cross strapped high heels adorned, and showed off, her manicured feet. Out of character at least, Chrissie had few indulgencies, but she did love getting her feet done, and it was one of the perks of the job. Her toenails, which were peeking out at the front, were painted a cheerful shade of turquoise blue.
“I’m pure nervous right now!” said Daisy, a girl of twenty from Edinburgh who was a bundle of excited energy sitting next to her. “I can’t believe I’m actually on Talent Spotters. Like, the only thing I’ve ever presented before now was an obscure kid’s TV show where I had five other people with me, so I could just kind of blend into the background a little if I wanted. I’m pure glad to be going out there with you tonight.”
You pure love saying pure all the time, don’t you, you Scottish twat? You’re pure, like, a pureaholic.
Not now, Chrissie thought. When it was close to show time, the bitch’s voice tended to speak up unbidden. Personally, she liked Daisy a lot, and was looking forward to working with her, even if it was just for one show.
“It’s going to be weird working with my replacement, but I’m excited too! Don’t worry, everybody loved your auditions so you just have to do what you’ve been doing,” Chrissie said, offering her a reassuring smile. Daisy leaned over and spoke in tones of one offering a deep confession.
“I was actually pure worried about meeting you. I didn’t know what was going to happen when we first met! You look…” – she seemed to try to think of a word that wasn’t ‘pure’ and failed – “pure mean on TV, but you’re nice in person, at least!”
“Yeah, it’s all just part of the show. I have a lot of respect for anyone brave enough to put themselves on the line, especially with what we do to most of them. I mean, imagine you’re a contestant going out there to perform, giving it your absolute best, and not only losing, but then having to get messy in front of everyone. Instead of encouraging your talent and praising your effort, we degrade you publically. It’s an amazingly cruel thing to be doing, when you think about it. Which, back when we were struggling in the ratings and our jobs were on the line, I guess it’s fair to say we didn’t.”
“I guess, when you put it that way. It’s not like they don’t know what they’re signing up for, though. A lot of them seem to find it pretty fun, from what I’ve seen and heard. Some people even consider it an honour. I take it you’re pure glad to be leaving it behind?”
Chrissie considered the question. She’d lived with this weird, sadistic character for four years. Yet she wasn’t an actress, nor was she a writer. So she sometimes wondered how much of herself was really in the character. Chrissie the character absolutely delighted in the opportunity to torment these desperate, pathetic fame-whores. Personally, she’d often let people away with it. The forfeits on the show were entirely at her own discretion, the only condition being that the winners had to be kept clean no matter what. When she’d first started on the show, she’d been your typical perky presenter. She wasn’t just the viewers’ friend, she was the contestants’ as well, always congratulating them on their successes and with a natural instinct for picking them back up after their failures. Yet there were definitely times when she’d found it very gratifying to humiliate some of the more unpleasant contestants, be it an overbearing diva (like one young dancer from a few months back who still tweeted threats at her to this day) or a cocky young male with no talent but plenty to say for themselves. And it did seem that this series especially that those she let off were few and far between. In the past she’d always let the more talented contestants, or the more pleasant, or the ones who seemed a little (or in some cases a lot) uncomfortable about getting messy away with it. She’d gotten too desensitised to it all. When she’d started, she’d still seen them all as people, even the most irritating and fame-hungry of them. Now though… she was like the viewers at home, getting sick of them all.
And enjoying their humiliation, right? Not to mention the power. Their fate being totally in your hands…
No-one asked you, she thought. Well, after tonight, I never have to use – or hear – that cruel, smug voice ever again.
“There’s definitely things I’ll miss about it,” she said finally. They fell into an awkward silence when it became clear that she wasn’t going to elaborate on this, but Daisy, showing recovery skills that would surely be of a benefit to her on the show, soon spoke up again.
“Oh, while you’re still here, I wonder if I could ask whether there’s any advice you could give me?”
“I think the best advice I can give you is just to be yourself! I mean, that was kind of the point of them hiring you, wasn’t it? Everyone else we saw tried to do an impression of me and it just looked silly or forced (or frightening, in some cases!). You just went on and did your own thing, and we all felt that was exactly what we needed. If we can’t have someone doing the same thing better, we should get someone who can do something just as good, but different. With you as the host, I think they’ll gradually phase out the crueller aspects of the show, which is probably for the best, honestly.”
Daisy blushed happily at the compliment. The girl’s appearance was as dainty as her name, with subtle makeup that highlighted her dove-like brown eyes and cheeks. Her medium-length brown hair looked spectacular with the caramel highlights that ran through it. While Chrissie wore her hair down, Daisy’s was pinned in an updo. Adorning her body was a pretty blue floral dress. When they went out on stage together, it would probably look like Chrissie Williams could eat this delicate girl alive in a heartbeat, but she definitely had the cute factor!
Once the two of them were sufficiently dolled up, the two of them walked out on to the set and looked out at the empty hall. The show typically pooled it’s contestants from universities around the country, and each show was taped at a different location. This particular university didn’t quite have anything that fitted their requirements on campus, but they had an auditorium not far for the main building that they regularly had use of on big occasions. The seats around the room would be filled mainly by their fellow students, who would be able to vote on their favourites in each category (thus making them the ‘Talent Spotters’ from the show’s title). The room had been set up to fit an ominous-looking contraption off to the side of the main stage. Chrissie had been waiting for this ever since the idea of her alpha bitch character had first started to take hold in her mind. There was one constant since that day that had run through every episode of the show, and that was that Chrissie Williams the character – and therefore she, since they obviously shared the same body – had never gotten so much as a speck of gunk on her. This was a comeuppance nearly four years in the making.
Oh yes, I might have guessed. It’s always me who comes up with the ideas for the mess for this show, and I’ve kept it fresh (the ideas anyway, the gunge quite the opposite) for four years. So of course without me all they can come up with is the fucking Get Your Own Back gunk dunk.
“Blech!” said Daisy, poking her tongue out and laughing. “Too bad they didn’t phase it out a bit quicker. I pure hope it’s not me going in there later!”
“I wouldn’t worry about that,” Chrissie smiled. “I’m pretty sure it’s going to be rigged so that I’m the one who gets it.”
“No, I don’t think so,” said Daisy. “At least, they’ve pretty much told me it’s going to be legit.”
Ha! I knew they didn’t have the balls to go through with it! I’m a queen to these people. A goddess. Yes, let Daisy get it. Let any and all of them get it, so long as it saves my own flawless skin.
Chrissie knew the producers had been in two minds about it, but she’d thought in the end, they would make sure she would be the one who went in. Every series finale they’d brought up the idea of the character finally getting what she deserved after so gleefully dishing it out to the contestants. Every year people took to message boards and twitter asking whether this would finally be when she got it. Even the media brought it up. She was up for it; although she really wasn’t too keen on being gunged, she was a performer with a keen sense of drama, and she knew that the crowd both live in studio and at home would love to see her messy doom so much that it would absolutely be worth going through with. Besides, even if she wasn’t as horrible as her character, she’d still been responsible for handing out a ton of humiliation, so she couldn’t very well justify even to herself the idea that she should in the end get away scot-free. Until now, however, they’d always known that both the show and the presenter would be back for another run, so they’d kept putting it off. Finally gunging Chrissie was the ultimate payoff that they could put on the show, and every time it didn’t happen, the thought of it just got bigger and bigger.
There had been a few unscripted near misses during the run of the show, and whenever something messy headed her way, it always seemed to Chrissie like the character suddenly took control of her body and manoeuvred her out of the way. Like when one contestant had gotten gunged and tried to creep up behind her for a messy hug. She’d just seen it from the corner of her eye and before her brain had seemed to register what was about to happen, she was already fleeing the stage like a bolt of lightning. Or whenever she smacked someone with a pie with a bit too much enthusiasm and quickly stepped back to make sure nothing splattered back over her.
True, I think it’s much better to give than to receive. Just look at me, honey. I’m perfect. I’m flawless. I’m divine. It would be a crime if anything denigrating ever happened to me!
The thing of it was that the idea of Chrissie William’s comeuppance had been held off for so long and gotten so big that the producers now weren’t sure that they ever wanted to do it. The character had gotten too big to fail, some of them had actually argued. No-one except Chrissie was willing to accept that this was really the end of the character. She’d been a huge part of the success of the show, and if things didn’t work out for her in America she’d be back, wouldn’t she? Besides which, everyone liked Chrissie, and even though she was willing to go through with it, she was their baby: they’d taken her under their wing from day one, and she’d grown so much as a person through knowing and working with these people that none of them really wanted to see her humiliated. They’d argued back and forth and kept changing their minds over and over. So they’d compromised: they would put both she and the new host on chairs above the gunge, ask them three questions each, and whoever got the most right answers would escape clean, while the loser would fall into the gunk below. Since they couldn’t work out what to do themselves, they’d let fate decide.
I doubt they’ll be able to wipe their arses without me around.
Before the girls could get much of a look at the gunge that awaited one of them later on, the show director approached, along with the contestants, to get started with rehearsals.
“There is one more piece of advice I want to give you before we get started,” said Chrissie, laying a hand on Daisy’s arm.
“What’s that?” asked Daisy, looking eager to learn.
“For heaven’s sake, don’t go out there tonight and say ‘pure’ five hundred times on stage.”
“Oh!” Daisy gasped. “I didn’t even know I was doing that! I just do it when I get p- uh, when I get nervous.”
“Relax and enjoy yourself,” said Chrissie with a smile.
When the taping began, an incredible transformation came over Chrissie. A cruel glint appeared in her eyes. A beatific smile suddenly took on an unmistakably arrogant twist. Her presence, quite unassuming before, seemed slowly to extend outwards as if to fill the room. She became sultry, radiant, elegant. She was a gorgeous looking woman before the rippling changes, but now she was something so much more: whereas once she would have turned heads merely upon entering a room, now she would have stopped the room dead with her appearance alone. The sheer magnitude of the woman seemed to suck the air out of the room. Every eye in the auditorium was on her.
And she smiled at the crowd, with a slight sneer that questioned the significance of any of them. Daisy looked overwhelmed momentarily. Although her demeanour didn’t change in any way, Chrissie gave her a reassuring squeeze where the cameras couldn’t see. You’re going to do fine, she thought.
“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to the series finale of Talent Spotters! I’m your host Chrissie Williams…”
She paused for a moment until the boos died out.
Look at those spotty geeks over there from the engineering department booing! Ha, I love it. Fucking losers. And check those fat girls behind them! Booing because “oh please God why can’t we be as pretty as you?”
“And I hate to break it to you all, given all the love from the room that’s pouring over me right now…”
More booing, louder than before, echoed through the hall. This was the most hyped crowd she’d seen in a while, and she felt glad to be going out with people here to have fun.
“But tonight will be the last time you geeks ever see me at the helm of this show. I’m off to America, to bigger and better things, to fulfil my dreams – nothing like the wet dreams some of you have about me every night, which I can assure you will never be fulfilled– and make my mark in a country that truly appreciates who I am and what I do. So joining me for the show is this delicate flower, Dainty Daisy here, who’ll I’m told will be stepping into my shoes – get a shot of these by the way, aren’t they just gorgeous – as if she or anybody else could ever fit. You couldn’t even afford shoes this good, could you Daisy, look at you, you might as well have come out here in a pair of trainers or something.”
Daisy looked shocked; Chrissie, as she often did, had went off script in the moment. There was a big difference between Chrissie in rehearsals and Chrissie on stage. The character really took over when it was show time.
“There’s nothing wrong with my shoes, thank you! And we’ll all just be glad to see the back of you, won’t we everybody?”
The crowd gave a resounding ‘YES!’.
“You know, I see you come out here every week and be p- so mean to all these lovely contestants. Well tonight I’m here to keep you in check. You’re nothing but a bully, but you don’t scare me one bit.”
Chrissie walked over to the girl and stared at her with the best condescending smile she had. The girl seemed to shrink.
“What’s the matter, precious Daisy?” asked Chrissie in a voice dripping with honey. “Starting to wilt already?”
“I can give as good as I take,” said Daisy firmly.
“I don’t know Daisy, I play pretty hard,” said Chrissie, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her in close. She held her there as they both turned back to look at the camera.
Let there be no mistake who’s in charge here. This is still my stage, and you’re nothing but an upstart!
“And some of our unfortunate contestants are going to find that out as well! First up tonight we have some… god… impressionists battling it out for that big money prize (pocket change to what I’ll be making in America, but hey, we all have to start somewhere!)”
Things didn’t look good for Shona Warner, who’d committed that most terrible of crimes, not being very good at singing. They’d been light on the forfeits all through the show, with Daisy playing good cop to Chrissie’s bad cop. Usually a bad singer might well expect a trip to the gunge tank, but they were going easy on the gunge in order to save that for the grand finale. So now Chrissie held a massive gooey cream pie just under Shona’s chin. It was actually disappointing that the woman had such a poor voice, since she definitely had the superstar look, with beautiful honey golden skin and long braided black hair.
“Did you imagine this is how things were going to go tonight?” Chrissie asked snidely. “Did you think you’d be standing here getting a pie in the face?”
“Yeah, I kind of did honestly” said Shona, smiling. “I don’t mind too bad though, I’ve kind of always wanted to get pied before, so it might be fun.”
Unfortunately for Shona, while she might have enjoyed it if someone else did it, Chrissie Williams wasn’t the kind of person who handed out pies you enjoyed. Chrissie had mastered the art of the mean pie. She smacked the pie hard off her face, but held and slid it hard so that it got up her nose, causing her to actually snort parts of the pie back out of it. That invisible presence she’d felt so many times before delicately glided her glittering silver shoes carefully out of the way of them. If she’d only had one pie, she would have also been sure to trail it to the top of her head to ruin Shona’s long braided hair, but in fact she had another sitting next to her ready. Before Shona could consider whether she ever wanted to be pied again, the second pie was splatted against the top of her head, Chrissie gleefully trailing it down the back of her hair to ensure as much of it as possible got a custard pie-shampooing. The fact that she knew full well how much of a riot it would be for the girl to fix her hair back up after washing the pie out made it all the more satisfying. It would be much the same if anything happened to her famous tousled locks.
“Was that everything you’d hoped for?” asked Chrissie, kneeling down and giving her a good sneering at. She held the microphone at arms length.
“Uh, no, I didn’t really enjoy that too much. You got it all up in my nose,” said Shona, pie trickling from her head.
After the singing contest ended, Chrissie and Daisy made their way over to the side of the stage to allow a number of past winners from the current series on to the stage to perform a weird collaboration. As they did, a large screen next to the stage played a video of Chrissie’s greatest moments throughout her whole run, from back on her first day when she looked super fresh-faced and nervous (and had done a way poorer job than Daisy had tonight!), to the first time she’d pied someone in the face (a weak pieing that lightly dabbed her victim’s face; this was before she’d mastered the art of the mean pie), to a girl in a magnificent red dress hanging onto the door of the gunge tank while she and two stagehands tried to cram her in. While this was happening, some of the people she’d worked alongside this whole time came up to her off-camera and thanked her for her work and wished her all the best. She was handed a bouquet of flowers and a card, which were quickly carried backstage given what was coming next. It was all she could do not to burst into tears, but that wouldn’t have fit her character at all. Now Daisy was the one comforting her. Chrissie sniffed, and immediately regretted it; they were positioned over near the gunk dunk, and she caught a very unpleasant smell coming from it. How she was going to keep herself together during the final segment she had no idea.
“Thanks to all our past winners for travelling to be with us here tonight,” said Chrissie, as she and Daisy took their place at the centre of the throng assembled on stage. “And that’s probably the last time you’ll be hearing from any of them! And at least on this show, it’s the last time you’ll be hearing from me…”
“Wait a minute, Chrissie,” said Daisy, placing a hand on her shoulder. Chrissie looked at it, a feigned uncertainty appearing there that was a completely new facet of her fictional persona. No matter what, Chrissie was always in command. Until now. Now it was Daisy’s turn to transform, and if it were much more subtle than her own, there was still an unmistakable authority there that had been missing before.
Go for it, Daisy. This is your stage now.
No, it’s really not, you know. It always has been – and always will be – Chrissie William’s stage. There’s not one person, not one, out there who can come on here and compare to me. I’m magnificent. I own any stage I’m on, bitch, and you? And this show? You’re nothing without me.
“Before we say goodbye to you, there’s a few friends who wanted to be here tonight to give you, well, the send-off we think you deserve,” said Daisy.
Chrissie looked around befuddled as all of the evening’s losers (including Shona, still with pie all over the shop), along with a number of losers from the past year and before, herded onto the stage from both sides and surrounded her. She was relieved to note that the girl in the red dress in the video wasn’t among them, but she wasn’t really surprised. It was highly unlikely that that particular contestant would ever appear within ten miles of a Talent Spotters taping for any reason. All of those who had made it here though had, in some form or another, suffered denigration at Chrissie William’s hands.
“This can’t be happening!” she blurted out, completely taken off guard by the fact that she’d said it. It felt as though someone else was talking through her. “I happen to other people! Other people don’t happen to me!”
“Now there’s nowhere for you to run to Chrissie,” said Daisy with a smile. Daisy was actually pretty good at playing this ‘deviously coy’ act. It looked like she was getting into the moment as well.
“Check my contract,” Chrissie snarled, getting back on script. “You’re not allowed to gunge me.”
“Does anyone here care about your contract?”
“No!” cried the audience as one.
“But I tell you what: I want my reign on this show to be a considerably kinder and fairer one than yours was, so I’m going to do what you’d never do and give you a chance to get away clean. We only gunge losers on this show, isn’t that right? You said you liked to play pretty hard, so before you get out of our lives (for good we hope!) we’re going to play a game, you and I. Over beside the stage here we’ve got the largest, messiest, smelliest vat of gunge that’s ever been seen in the history of the show. We’ve got two chairs sitting facing each other on either side. We’ll each take our seats and be asked three questions each. Each time we get a question wrong, our seats will be cranked up a notch above the gunge. Whoever has the most correct answers is the winner, and the loser ends up well and truly gunked.”
Chrissie gave a predatory smile that showed her teeth.
“I always say be careful what you wish for. It’s going to be a pleasure to beat you and dunk you into that vat. One last humiliation before I go, what could possibly be more fitting than that?”
Daisy took her seat on the dunk tank first, not looking entirely confident, but clearly very game. Chrissie felt herself hesitate for a moment, and then she took her chair like a queen taking a seat on her throne, although it was unlikely that any queen ever had to take care to avoid dipping their feet in slime as they sat down. She didn’t want to accidentally get slime all over her silver shoes. Below her was the biggest amount of slime she’d ever seen in all her time working on messy TV. Up close, she could see just how thick and gloopy gunge was. The majority of it was yellow, although in the middle there was a large red splotch that made it look like she was taking part in the world’s strangest ink blot test. To her it looked like a wolf, grinning up at her, about to eat her whole. She gulped. She wished she’d worn something else rather than get those nice shoes and dress covered in slop, but she’d wanted to go out looking her best. Which was rather ironic, given how things were probably about to turn out. She knew she had to get messy, but she wished they’d chosen a way that would have spared her feet from the slime, at least.
Forget about my feet, there’s no part of my divine body that should be getting covered in gunk. This is a travesty! We mustn’t lose! We can’t lose!
One of the past winners who’d been a firm fan favourite, a man named Mike, was handed a number of cards with questions and answers on them. He threw the first question out to Daisy, a science question that she immediately had to confess she didn’t even have a guess at. Mike, who had in fact not won his prize in the show hosting ability category, instead of yelling for Daisy’s chair to be cranked up, waved vaguely at someone until they moved her up a notch. He was doing fine, but she wished they’d found someone with a bit more sense of drama.
“Okay, Chrissie, your first question: Who was the first winner of American Idol?”
“Um… I-I don’t know… I don’t really pay attention to other shows. Other people pay attention to mine!”
“Kelly Clarkson was the answer we were looking for, and you know what means…”
Now you’re getting it, thought Chrissie.
“You know, that means, we uh, move her on up,” said Mike lamely, waving vaguely again. Chrissie gave a surprised scream as her chair suddenly jerked backwards. It gave such a sharp judder that for a moment she thought it was about to throw her off like a bucking bronco straight down into the gunge. Her hands dug tightly against the sides of the chair. Her pretty polished toes wriggled in nervous anticipation.
You can’t seriously go through with this!? Stop this! Stop it right now! They’ll listen to you – they like you!
She gave an audible sigh of relief as her replacement got her second question wrong.
“Okay, Chrissie, question number two: Who was the lead singer of The Cure?”
“I’ve no idea!” screamed Chrissie. “I don’t pay attention to other people, other pe-”
“Yes, we get it,” said Daisy with a smirk. “You’re full of yourself. We know.”
Chrissie’s jaw dropped. None of the audience had ever thought they’d see the day when Chrissie Williams was rendered speechless.
That cheeky little bitch! She’s the one that’s full of herself!
The third time was not the charm for poor Daisy, who once again got her question wrong and got cranked up to the maximum level. She bit her lip nervously as she looked down at the slime, which was so far away, and yet somehow she was so close to going into.
“Okay, so far nobody’s been able to answer a question successfully. Chrissie, if you can answer this one, you’ll be sending Daisy into the gunge. What would an acrophobe be afraid of?”
Chrissie’s head, which had been angled to look despondently at the gunge, suddenly jerked upright, because something amazing had just happened: she actually knew the answer to the question. She couldn’t believe it. After four years of humiliating people, she was actually going to pull a Karma Houdini and get away clean. Her confidence returned, and grew until it was an arrogance which, in it’s own way, was as repulsive as the slime. Her eyes sparkled with amusement.
“Oh my… not exactly the brightest Daisy in the field now, are you my dear? You couldn’t even get one question right. Not one!”
And now you’re about to get ‘pure’ gunged!
She turned to Mike and beamed.
“I’m sorry Mike – and sorry to all of you – because none of you are going to be getting your revenge here today. Mike? The answer to your question? What would an acrophobe be afraid of? That’s easy, Mike: they’re afraid of acrobats.”
Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaat!? Wait a fuckin’ minute here…
“Uh… the answer on the card is ‘heights’…” said Mike uncertainly. “I don’t… think we can accept that.”
You did that on purpose!
One of the producers hurried over and whispered in Mike’s ear.
“No, we can’t accept that I’m afraid, so we’re going to go to a tiebreak. These questions will be thrown open to both of you, and the first person to get a correct answer will be a winner. Oh, we also need to move Chrissie up on the uh, the thing here.”
No-one would even know your name if it wasn’t for me! And THIS is how you repay me!?
This time, Chrissie sat stoically as the chair awkwardly jerked her up to the top of the ramp.
“Which language gave us the word ‘alphabet’?”
Greek! For God’s sake, Greek!
Chrissie said nothing. Daisy looked like she was thinking hard. She hoped she wasn’t going to have to try and mouth the right answer to the girl.
“Greek?” said Daisy after a moment.
“Is the correct answer! So we know what that means don’t we? Chrissie gets the gunge!”
Chrissie laughed, while that unbearable, arrogant voice in her head began to scream obscenities at her. She looked down at the gunge, and winked at Daisy. Then she did something that she would never quite be able to explain, and probably was best not to even attempt to. For four years, she’d had a weird relationship with this character. While she was on stage, she let this incredibly mean and unpleasant woman, who really did seem to exist and think for herself, just in an entirely different place from her, use her voice. Borrow her body. But she was still always there, co-existing with her in a way. And now she moved the character completely to the front, and moved herself to the back.
Chrissie Williams woke up.
“No!” she squealed, almost leaping off the seat accidentally in her panic.
You’ve had this coming for a long, long time.
“I don’t deserve this!” Chrissie screamed. Her fists clenched the sides of the chair tightly, while her body trembled. Her head shook back and forth in abject rejection of the horror that awaited her below. Her legs dangled helplessly. She, who had been in control of every last thing that happened during her time on the show, was now totally powerless. She could only watch as Daisy was helped down off the seat and took her place next to Mike in front of a lever. They both indicated for the other to grab it, laughed, and decided to do it together. Mike’s hand dropped over Daisy’s.
They almost look like a cute couple, don’t they?
Tell them to stop this! Right now!
Can’t. Won’t. Goodbye, Chrissie Williams. I really don’t like you very much.
“NOOOOOOO!!!” wailed Chrissie. But the audience screamed yes. “I was made for great things! I wasn’t made for swimming in gloop!”
“Hen, I think you going into that gunge is going to be a pretty great thing,” grinned Daisy.
“But I only wanted to help people improve, I… I just tried to bring out the best in you all by putting you under pressure, that’s all.”
“We just want you to improve too,” said Daisy.
“But I’m already perfect!!! I can’t be improved!”
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Mike. “It seems to me like your attitude could definitely use some work.”
“And it sure seems to me like you’d look a whole lot better with a thick, thick coating of slime!” said Daisy.
Chrissie was quite certain she wouldn’t, but before she could say anything else, Mike and Daisy pulled the lever. Chrissie’s eyes looked out onto the stage at all the people who she’d humiliated over the years, and then her chair shot down the ramp. She still looked queenly, albeit a rather horrified and most definitely plummeting queen, who shrieked as a heavy dosing of purple slime dropped from the ceiling in front of her just in time for her to shoot through the goo. Although she was only underneath the stream for a moment, a great deal of the gunge plainly meant to come down along with her. The purple shower completely destroyed her sexily tousled hair, a look that was supposed to be built to last her all day, but couldn’t endure mere seconds against the onslaught of the gunge. Her shimmering silver dress, once fit for an ice queen, was now mostly fit only for the bin. The freezing cold slop struck her bare neck and shoulders and clung to the dress as if she’d just shot through a slimy, sticky spiders web. She’d also been forced to eat what she’d thought was a faceful of gunge.
It hadn’t even been close. At the bottom of the ramp, she found out what a faceful of gunge was. The queen’s throne betrayed her, and with as little mercy as she’d shown her victims over the years, dunked her into the gunge horizontally. She fell right into the wolf’s maw, and it devoured her into it’s hungry belly. She flopped under the red gunge that swam at the centre of the pool, and for a few moments, that was the last that anyone saw of Chrissie Williams. She was completely submerged and left completely helpless and disoriented. Her body was entirely drenched, the worst smelling gunge she had ever dreamed of smothering her face. Gunge didn’t have to smell bad at all, but of course she’d always insisted on it to make sure the show got the best reactions possible. This was a decision that had very much just come back to haunt her. The malodorous gunge rippled outwards as it scoffed the villainous hostess, culminating in waves of goo that sloshed over the side of the vat. The entire crowd were on their feet, hooting and hollering at finally getting to see her downfall after all this time. She could feel her dress billowing out beneath her, giving the slime an invitation – not that it needed any- to taste her charms. Finally, Chrissie’s head poked out from under the slime, her hands following quickly behind as she placed them over her face and pulled at the slime as if it were a mask that she could somehow hope to just slip off. On top, gunge flowed from her formerly tousled, now merely sodden hair back down her body in such volumes that at first she thought they’d sent another stream down on her already.
“Urrrgh, urrrrgh, urrrrgh, BWAAAAAAAARGHH!”
“What a shame!” laughed Daisy. “Well, we certainly aren’t going to lose track of you at the after party tonight! Everyone’ll be able to sniff you out right away.”
“Let me out of here this instant!”
“Don’t worry, Chrissie: we’ll send someone over to fish you out of there sooner or later. Probably. Eventually!”
Nothing in Chrissie’s time as a messy TV presenter prepared her for just how shockingly cold the slime felt as it invaded every part of her body. Her hair had gone from auburn to purple to red in the span of a few moments. From her head downwards, however, she’d been painted yellow. Deep down at the bottom of all this horrible gloop, she could barely even feel that she had a pair of shoes on at all, so freezing were her poor feet from the slime that lavished against them. Her toes curled up, trying to crawl back from the exposed front of her shoe to whatever scant protection might lie deeper within.
Outrageously extravagant her choice of outfit might have been, but it could offer her no relief from the flood of gunge she was swimming in. The gunge seeped through her panties into her most intimate parts, drenching her vaginal lips and beyond, sending spasms through her body. She simply had to get her body free of this gunk as soon as possible. She had to!
As she managed to plant her feet at the bottom and began to rise up, however, she looked down in horror towards her breasts. Her exposed breasts.
“Oh my god! She’s pure naked!” yelled Daisy.
Chrissie looked at her yellow-dunked – ha! – ‘dress’, which would now never shimmer again. What once had clung to every curve on her body had now left two very large curves completely uncovered. She’d thought she’d worn her dress as low as she possibly could, but apparently the gunge had just upped the ante. In a panic she wrapped her arms around her chest to cover her hardening nipples and sank back down under the gunge until they were hidden. All at once gunge surged in from around her to slosh against her defenceless breasts. It was so icy cold against her nipples she could hardly bear it, but she had no choice. Not for the first time, she was glad this was a taped show. Her malfunction had, however, not been lost on the live crowd, who were now worked up into an absolute frenzy.
It had never supposed to be this way! It was never supposed to be her. The obvious delight of everyone watching cut through her. For four years she’d been a queen. She’d been untouchable. Each and every losing contestant had been hers to deal with as she chose, and she’d loved every minute of it. And now all of that was gone. Today, the power was theirs, and her cruel reign had been ended in the slime she had so long coveted. Even the engineering permavirgins were mocking her relentlessly. Her! Frustration brought her blood to a boil, yet she was completely helpless. Finally, she could endure the humiliation no more. She gave an inhuman scream.
The show stopped.
Chrissie Williams breathed out. She tried to move, and wobbled in what remained of her sodden high heels. Light blue gunge dropped from above and struck her head just as she was trying to regain her balance. The next thing she knew, she toppled over sideways under the gunge. She let it seep over her. When she came back up this time (heaving breasts still carefully concealed beneath, of course) she was laughing. She couldn’t have asked for a better send off. Today had been so much fun! Her many victims were having a hell of a time as well, and they were laughing, clapping, and trying to encourage the crowd to make even more noise. If she’d ever caused any of them any real hurt, she hoped this served as some degree of recompense. Finally, as Daisy thanked her for everything she’d done for the show, and wished her well in what came next, she let the tears she’d fought back earlier fall. She waited for the bitch to offer some snide remark, but none came. The slime seemed to have exorcised her alter-ego for good.
It was only now that she realised, for better or worse, how much she was going to miss all this. She would always look back on her time here and the wonderful friends she had made fondly. For now though, Chrissie Williams was looking towards the future… and to the showers.