Sophie adjusted the strap of her handbag, eager to get home after a long and exhausting day at work. Her neatly pressed blouse and tailored skirt were immaculate, her black heels clicking smartly against the pavement. All she wanted was to change into something comfortable and unwind with a glass of wine.

But fate had other ideas.

"Excuse me, miss! Would you like to win a holiday to Paris?"

The cheerful voice caught her off guard. She turned to see a TV presenter, grinning from ear to ear, a microphone in one hand and a camera crew standing behind him. A small crowd had already gathered, their curious eyes on her.

"Paris?" Sophie echoed, hesitating.

"That's right! A luxury holiday for two, plus $1,000 in spending money! All you have to do is answer a few simple trivia questions!"

A free trip to Paris sounded incredible. But something in the presenter's tone made her wary. "What's the catch?"

The presenter's grin widened. "Well for every question you get wrong, you'll face a little messy forfeit!"

Sophie glanced past him, finally noticing the long table filled with buckets of thick, unappetising substances--baked beans, gravy, coleslaw, spaghetti hoops. Her stomach twisted.

She should have walked away. She should have said no. But the crowd was watching, and the thought of Paris was just too tempting. Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile.

"Alright I'll play."

The crowd cheered as she was ushered onto a small stage.

"Fantastic!" the presenter said. "Let's begin! First question: What's the capital of Canada?"

Sophie hesitated. "Um Toronto?"

A deafening buzzer sounded.

"Oooh, unlucky! The correct answer is Ottawa!"

Before she could react, a bucket of thick, gloopy baked beans was dumped over her head. The warm sauce slithered down her face, clinging to her hair and dripping onto her pristine white blouse. She gasped in shock as laughter rippled through the crowd.

Her humiliation had only just begun.

"Next question! What year did the Berlin Wall fall?"

"1993?"

BZZZT!

A jug of lumpy mashed potatoes was poured down the front of her blouse, the thick starch oozing inside. She shuddered as it seeped into her bra, her once-smart outfit becoming a complete disaster.

The game continued, and Sophie's luck only got worse.

"What's the chemical symbol for gold?"

"Um G-O?"

SPLAT! A wave of coleslaw rained down over her shoulders, the tangy dressing soaking into her ruined blouse and skirt. She could feel strands of cabbage sticking to her skin.

By now, the crowd had doubled in size, their laughter ringing in her ears. Her expensive handbag--containing her work laptop--hadn't been spared either, now covered in splatters of beans and sauce.

"Alright, Sophie!" the presenter called, as she stood there drenched in layers of humiliation. "You've made it to the final question!"

Sophie perked up slightly, desperate to salvage something from this nightmare.

"If you answer correctly, you win the trip to Paris and $1,000 in spending money!" the presenter declared.

Sophie nodded, bracing herself.

"But" His grin turned mischievous. "If you get it wrong, you'll face a very humiliating forfeit, which we'll only reveal after you answer."

Her stomach dropped. The crowd was buzzing with anticipation. She took a deep breath.

"Here's your final question: What is the square root of 144?"

Sophie's mind was spinning. She was flustered, cold, and covered in mush. She needed to focus, but all she could think about was how disgusting she felt.

"Uh 10?"

Silence.

Then--BZZZT!

The crowd erupted in cheers, and Sophie's heart sank.

"Oh no, Sophie! The correct answer is 12!"

She swallowed hard, dreading what was coming next.

"And now for your final forfeit!" the presenter announced gleefully.

Sophie stiffened as two assistants approached, scissors in hand. Before she could protest, her mashed potato-soaked blouse was swiftly snipped away, leaving her in just her bra. Her skirt followed, the fabric slipping from her legs as the assistants peeled away the last of her ruined work attire.

The crowd gasped and laughed as Sophie stood frozen, stripped down to just her tights and underwear. Her entire body was burning with humiliation, but the worst was still to come.

"Time to finish the job!"

Sophie whimpered as a carton of raw eggs was tipped into the back of her underwear. The cold, slimy yolks slid against her skin, seeping into every crevice. Another carton was emptied into her tights, the sticky liquid trickling down her legs.

The sensation was unbearable, and her entire body screamed with embarrassment. But the cameras were still rolling, and she refused to let herself cry.

With a final pat on her shoulder, the presenter grinned. "Let's give Sophie a big round of applause!"

The crowd erupted in cheers, but Sophie barely heard them. She was handed back her now-ruined handbag and gently nudged off the stage.

Her shoes squelched as she took a step. Every movement sent fresh waves of egg down her legs, the sticky substance clinging to her skin. The laughter followed her as she walked away, utterly humiliated, every step reminding her of the most embarrassing experience of her life.

As she turned the corner, her face burning, she muttered under her breath.

"I should have just said no."