Written by PML — 2011 — from WamLibrary
bet, cswl, f/f, food, pie, slime, tv
“Hello and welcome to the next edition of the CSWL, and they’ve finally let me loose on it,” Georgie Thompson smiled as she looked at her two celebrities from behind her desk.
“They told me that when Fulham come up, I’m up for the chop, but that ain’t today. Instead, this week we have two partners of the star players from the featured match this week, the top of the table clash, Manchester United against Chelsea.
“Representing Manchester United we have none other than Coleen Rooney.”
Coleen smiled, wearing her multi-coloured blue dress, and a Man-United cap to show her support for her husband, Wayne Rooney.
“So Coleen, United have been on top form this season, surely this should help you keep clean?”
Coleen said, “Well Georgie, our Wayne’s been scoring for fun. I’m sure he’ll keep the blues at bay.”
“Fighting words there. And facing the gunge for Chelsea, we have Daybreak’s Christine Bleakley.”
Christine also smiled, wearing a black top and of course, her Chelsea hat, just for her fiancé, Frank Lampard.
“So Christine, Chelsea are heading to Old Trafford. Think that might be a factor?”
Christine shook her head. “Nah, Chelsea can do the business wherever they are.”
“So there you have it folks. Our two ladies will be watching the game very carefully because at least one of them will be ending up in there,” Georgie said, pointing to a gunge tank to her left, filled with a mixture of blue and red gunge. “Of course, the more goals there are, the more gunge there is, so maybe you should hope your team doesn’t lose. If it’s a draw, you get to share the punishments. And don’t forget, anything that happens during the game will be subject to scrutiny, so you may end up messy, even if your team wins big.
“So ladies, are you ready?” The two women nodded. “We’ll see you after full time.”
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“Well, that was quite a game, wasn’t it ladies?” Georgie Thompson smiled at the two celebrity supporters, safe behind her news desk.
“We have Wayne Rooney’s wife, Coleen Rooney, representing Manchester United.” She turned towards a widely smiling woman.
“And for Chelsea, we have Frank Lampard’s fiancée, Christine Bleakley.” She turned the other way to see a fretting brunette.
“Yes, we’ve just seen Manchester United beat Chelsea 3-1, but it wasn’t without incident, was it?”
The smile on Coleen’s face slipped.
“Before we get to the main punishment, we have all those forfeits to deal with. Why don’t we start with the book? Now Coleen, do you remember who got more cards?”
“I’m sure Chelsea got three, we didn’t get that many, did we?”
“No, you didn’t, which means Christine…” Georgie signalled her hand, and Christine screamed as a stage-hand threw a jug of custard at her. There wasn’t much, but the yellow splatter stood out against Christine’s black top. Christine had closed her eyes in reflex, but soon started laughing quietly before wiping away some of the custard from her face.
“And it helps if you have the ball, doesn’t it Christine?”
Christine narrowed her eyes, before ducking away from some milk that was thrown her way. Of course this meant that the milk that would have splashed across her chest now splashed over her head, whitening her long brown locks and blue hat. Again, the amount of mess wasn’t going to cause headlines, but Christine knew what stood over to the left of Georgie.
“And of course, Manchester United did keep the ball better too.”
A jug of chocolate splashed across Christine, who just sighed and let it splatter over her chest, where it contrasted well with the yellow custard. She sat there quietly waiting.
“Now Coleen, I know the field was wet, but that miss from your husband wasn’t really good, was it?”
The screen behind Georgie changed from a stat screen showing the score to a replay of the penalty that Rooney missed. Coleen shook her head, bracing herself as three cream pies were thrown at her, leaving the foam all over her face, and quite amusingly, her Man Utd hat had been thrown off her, not that it mattered too much to her. She wiped away the foam and looked at Georgie. “Is there any more for me?”
“Let me see… Nope, that’s it as far as you go. Of course, as well as all the goals, there were all them goals that were missed. One in particular stood out, and I think Christine knows which one.”
The screens showed Torres rounding the keeper, empty net at his mercy, just to put the ball wide. As it showed, Christine was pelted with her own three pies, so that once the tins were pulled away, Christine was left there, shaking with nervous laughter. She was already covered in white foam, chocolate, milk, and custard, and it was going to get a whole lot worse.
“And that concludes the preliminaries. Now we move onto the main event. Now, Manchester United won 3-1, so that’s two clear goals Christine. Therefore, Coleen, if you’d like to grab a bucket from the table,” Georgie gestured.
Coleen happily obliged, glad that she had mostly escaped. She picked up a large bucket of swirling foamy slime, as a stage-hand also did the same. She then put herself in position, and let rip at Christine. The watery slime splashed over Christine, coming from multiple angles, so there was no escape. Her hair went down her face sticking to her skin, while her top was completely soaked, clearly causing Christine a chill. On the plus side for her though, the soaking did manage to wash away most of the previous forfeits.
“And now Christine, you must face the gunge tank. If you would like to be so kind as to go and get yourself comfortable,” Georgie said, showing the tank to her left. Christine was reluctant, but a stage-hand soon had her moving on her way. A wet Christine Bleakley was sat in the gunge tank, with Coleen Rooney stood next to it, waiting to pull the chain.
“Congratulations to Manchester United for the fine win today, Coleen, if you would do the honours, gunge Christine.”
Coleen pulled the chain hard, then stepped back to watch as the blue and red gunge fell over Christine. The goo splattered over the Northern Irish brunette, doming around her like the same umbrella effect seen in most gungings. The gunge splashed over Christine’s bare legs, while the thick slime flowed over her face and down onto her chest. The gunge kept coming, obscuring her features, although she was flapping at the gungefall. Her hair, which had already been wet, was now slick with the thick red and blue slime. In the end, all of Christine’s resistance had gone, and she just sat there as the last of the gunk fell upon her. She had been utterly covered in the slime, and almost couldn’t be bothered to wipe away the gunk from her face. Coleen meanwhile was smiling, knowing Manchester United had kept her from this fate.
“Wow, what a gunging. I hope you enjoyed that Christine. I’d also thank our victor Coleen Rooney for putting herself on the line. I’m Georgie Thompson, hope you tune in for the next CSWL.” Georgie smiled from behind the desk, as the screen cut to black.