Bagheera's Third Messy Loss

I can't believe I let Bobby talk me into being on this stupid show.

"Why did I make that stupid bet with him?"

So, Let's See How Messy We Can Get You! was the number one rated-show in its timeslot on Thursday night at 2000, or as the Americans would say, 8:00 PM. It is a gameshow where the contestants would have to correctly answer a series of challenging questions or face the consequences. And that meant getting very, VERY, messy.

"Ms. Bagheera," Maite Delgado, granddaughter of the most famous television host in Venezuelan history, was master, or actually mistress, of ceremonies, or M.C of the top-ranked, ever, televised primetime game show, said after a brief pause, "how does it feel to be out from behind the camera and actually in front of one?" Like her grandmother, for whom she had been named, Maite was a beauty pageant winner who had turned to the small screen.

"What's that supposed to mean," the alluring owner of WAM Bagheera Studio snapped at the young woman named for her famous paternal grandparent.

"Oh nothing," the host, or in this case, hostess, another name for the Master of Ceremonies, said, "I just meant you run the largest, online, pay-per-view video service in the country. You make a living by recording beautiful women getting messy. I just wondered how it would feel for you to get really trashed?"

"HEY," the Latino bombshell, all but exploded. "It's not like I don't get messy, too. I get just as messy as any of my models . . . more in fact, much more."

That fucking asshole. I am going to kill him!

This all started two months earlier when Bobby, Bagheera's American boyfriend had made a bet with her. Bobby won, and as the loser, Bagheera had to go on the nighttime gameshow, So, Let's See How Messy We Can Get You! Then she promptly forgot all about the bet until Bagheera received a phone call three days earlier and was told that she had been selected for the Thursday night show. Now, she sat in a plain white plastic chair, in the middle of the stage, staring daggers at Maite Delgado.

Ooh . . . Bobby! I am so going to . . . ooh. Why did I make that bet. Who the hell is Ronald Acuna Jr., anyway. I don't give a damn about baseball. My favorite sport is soccer. Who else but Bobby would know that Ronald Acuna, who plays for the Atlanta Braves, is a four-time Major League All-Star and the reigning National League MVP. Or that he's from Venezuela. Only Bobby could come up with that shit.

"So, are you ready to begin, Bagheera?"

As the immaculately dressed woman looked at her, Bagheera started to get hot under the color. She could feel her face heating up as she started blushing.

"Fuck," Bagheera said in a tone so low only the M.C., pronounced emcee, could hear her.

"Yeah, might as well get it over with."

It's not that Bagheera minded getting messy. She loved getting messy. Just not on national television with an in-studio audience of over 300 people watching, with anticipation, her messy demise. Bagheera had watched the show many times. She knew that she was going to get thoroughly trashed. No matter how much prize money she took home, the stunning brunette knew that she was going to be completely covered with some type of messy slop by the end of the show.

"Shit, that fucking Bobby. I am going to . . ."

"What was that, Bagheera? I couldn't hear you."

Oh shit! I didn't mean to say that out loud. Oh fuck. This is going to be a long, long, night.

With a loud and very audible sigh, Bagheera said, "go ahead."

"So, we're going to do something a little different tonight, Bagheera," the emcee said, but now she was facing the studio audience. "Instead of our normal questions and answers session, we're going to play a little game. It's a card game. It's called Hi/Lo. Are you familiar with it?"

"Yeah, I know the game. I've played it before."

As Bagheera sat there, wondering how she was going to get messy from a card game, Maite Delgado continued as she spoke to the audience.

"What we're going to do, is have Bagheera decide whether the next card drawn will be higher or lower than the previous one. For every card she guesses right, Bagheera will receive one hundred dollars, American money."

"But," and the beautiful master of ceremonies let that word hang out there like a slowly dripping water faucet, "for each incorrect answer, she will receive a pie in the face. Ha!"

And as the emcee pointed toward a doorway at the rear of the studio, two men came out pushing a wheeled table that was full of chocolate pies. Bagheera's jaw dropped when she saw all that gooey mess on the table and knew she would probably be wearing a lot of it in a few minutes.

"Oh fuck," the brown-haired beauty silently mouthed. "I am so going to get fucked up."

Ooh, Bobby . . . I am going to get you for this. Just you wait and see. I will. If it's the last thing I ever do, I am going to get you.

"And," Maite, added a smirk crossing her face, "let's see what Bagheera has to look forward to."

As she pointed toward that table the audience, as well as Bagheera, were able to count an even two dozen of the gooiest, messiest pies, Bagheera had ever seen. They were all chocolate, with half being the darker color of chocolate pudding, while the others had a much lighter, though even creamier texture to them. Each pie crust was all but overflowing with the brown slop. And there was no whipped cream to dilute the mess. Bagheera knew she was truly going to get trashed.

Oh fuck! That looks like my recipe for pie filling. How did they get . . . Shit. I am so going to get fucked up. Ooh Bobby . . . Bobby, you son-of-a-bitch . . . I am going to get you for this.

As she looked down at her little black dress, that had cost two months' hard-earned pay, Bagheera knew it was going to be totally ruined before this night was over. And the matching knee-high boots, bought just the day before, those shiny leather boots which set her back $600 probably wouldn't survive the deluge of chocolate muck either.

OOH . . . Bobby! Bobby . . . I am so going to . . .

Now, the emcee, or M.C., turned toward Bagheera with a smirk on her face.

"Well, Ms. Bagheera I guess it's time to get down to the nitty gritty. Are you ready to get messy . . . er, I mean are you ready to play our game."

Again, she had that little smirk on her face.

The look Bagheera gave her would have curdled milk.

"Go ahead," the Venezuen beauty said, rather snippily.

"Okay . . . and away we go," the hostess of So, Let's See How Messy We Can Get You! said as she turned over the first card.

"We have the Jack of spades," the emcee said in a cheerful tone. "Bagheera, do you think the next card will be higher or lower?"

After she, naturally, went lower, Maite, turned over the second card and then announced in a loud and carrying voice, "the two of spades. You have won this round, Bagheera." Then she pulled a crisp new $100 dollar bill from a stack of shiny bills, and said, "here are your winnings."

A smile crossed Bagheera's face.

Hmm . . . this isn't so bad.

"What's your next pick, Bagheera, higher or lower?"

"Higher," Bagheera replied in a self-assured tone.

And when the two of diamonds was turned over, the emcee, or mistress of ceremonies said, "we have a tie. So, no winner or loser. What's your next pick, higher of lower?"

"Higher," Bagheera replied and was rewarded when the six of spades was turned over. And she was rewarded again when the King of hearts was turned over as she had picked higher once more.

With three wins in four tries, Bagheera was feeling pretty good. Even though the King of spades brought her a second tie, Bagheera was feeling good as she had stayed clean so far. And the five of hearts brought her a fourth $100 bill which improved her mood even more, as Bagheera naturally had gone lower. With four wins and two ties on the first seven cards drawn, Bagheera was feeling pretty good.

That all came crashing down with the next card.

"Oh, Bagheera, I am so, So, sorry," the emcee said when she turned over the three of clubs, even though it was obvious that she was not. HA! And of course, Bagheerra had gone higher with the five of hearts showing.

"Oh Fuck," Bagheera said softly.

Bobby, you son-of-a-bitch . . . I will get my revenge.

Then seeing the slight smirk on Maite's face, Bagheera knew she was enjoying this turn of events.

Ooh. That bitch doesn't look very sorry to me. Bobby, you, you . . .

"But you lost," the mistress of ceremonies continued, "and you know what that means."

And before Bagheera could say or do anything, one of the assistants picked up a pie and slammed it into the bewildered brunette's face. And each of those pies was a monster of muck. As that big, sloppy pie so full of chocolate pudding, met Bagheera's face it exploded showering her with messy brown muck. In an instant Bagheera's face was covered with sloppy chocolate pudding. But the mess didn't end there. The entire front half of Bagheera's perfectly coiffured hairdo caught a big portion of the brown slop as the assistant slathered the remainder of the pie on the top of Bagheera's head. Even the shoulders of Bagheera's cute little dress got splattered in brown muck. In all, Bagheera was a mess. And was she pissed.

"SHIT!"

Fuck . . . ooh that fucking Bobby. You just wait until I get my hands on him. I am so going to fuck him up.

As the owner of WAM Bagheera Studios stood there, gloppy brown pudding rolled down off her face and landed on her magnificent breasts. As that gooey muck landed on her tits, it started to pool in the little valley between those magnificent mountains of feminine glory.

"Oh, Bagheera," the emcee said, stifling a laugh, "you are such a mess."

"Yeah, well, BITE me, bitch."

Oh shit. Did I really say that. Did I call her a bitch on national television? Fuck!

"Oh, I am so sorry, I didn't mean to call you that."

"It's okay," Maite said, with a chuckle. "I've been called worse."

"But now, let's get back to the game. The three of clubs is on the board. Do you pick higher or lower, Bagheera?"

"Higher, of course."

And when the Ace of spades was turned over, Bagheera started to smile again. She continued to smile when the Jack of hearts was turned over, and in fact Bagheera continued to radiate confidence through the next six cards as the Ace of spades and Jack of hearts, followed by the seven, Jack, ten and six, all clubs, were turned over. And Bagheera had correctly guessed right in each instance going high, low, low, high, low and low in the correct order. When she pocketed the last of those six one-hundred-dollar bills, Bagheera was positively beaming. She had now earned $1,000 dollars.

The feeling of euphoria, though, came to a sudden stop when the four of hearts was turned over, and Bagheera had gone higher.

"Oops . . . I'm sorry, Bagheera, but it seems you have lost again." And without even giving her a chance to voice displeasure, the assistant quickly stepped forward and slapped another of those chocolate muck monsters into Bagheera's face. And he really took pleasure in grinding it in. That young man, though she had long since forgotten him, used to work for Bagheera and did not consider her a good boss, slathered all that brown glop over Bagheera's entire face and indeed her whole head. When the crust completely fell apart, that didn't stop the mucky assault upon Bagheera. He ran all that pudding and the broken bits of crust over Bagheera's head and then took the remnants and slathered them over the thin cloth that was barely covering her bosom. To say that Bagheera was a mess would be an understatement. It was like a train of mess had run over her. It would get worse.

"Fuck," Bagheera said under her breath.

Shit. This could get really bad. Bobby, I am so going to get you for this.

But Bagheera's mood started to improve as more c-notes, an American term for a hundred-dollar bill, started crossing her palms. As she went higher and saw the Jack of diamonds get turned over, lower to see the five of clubs turned over, and then higher again, with the nine of clubs rewarding her effort, Bagheera's wealth greatly increased.

Another tie, the third one in the first nineteen cards, happened when the emcee turned over the nine of diamonds. Bagheera was feeling good about this latest non-loss. And so far, Bagheera had only taken two pies. She had pocketed $1,300 dollars and for the most part had stayed relatively clean. So, when the Queen of hearts was turned over, and Bagheera had chosen lower, her face took on a very unhappy look. It got worse when the assistant slammed another of those gooey, gloppy, chocolate pudding pies into her face. And he slammed it hard.

"OUCH! You son of a bitch! That hurt!"

More gloppy, brown muck cascaded down Bagheera's face and onto her boobs, which by now had started amassing a collection of brown slop over her black dress. Bagheera's face was so covered that when she finally opened her eyes, the whites of her eyes really stood out.

"Shit." But this time it was more of a resigned response to the messy situation she was in. Almost like an afterthought. Sort of like it didn't matter anymore. She was getting really creamed with chocolate pudding pies. Bagheera just kind of sighed as if saying, "oh well, what the fuck!"

"Bagheera," Maite Delgado said, "the Queen of hearts is on the table. Do you choose higher or lower?"

"Lower."

Lower, of course you fucking idiot. Why would I go higher with a Queen on the board.

But once again, Bagheera's luck turned around as the seven of clubs was drawn, followed by the King of clubs and then the ten of spades. And each time, Bagheera had guessed right, with low, then high, followed by a low with the King of clubs showing. The ten of spades brought Bagheera's winning up to $1,600 dollars.

Just when she was starting to feel good again, adversity stuck out its grubby tongue and tripped up the beautiful model, once more. With the ten of spades showing, Bagheera had gone lower. But this time the ace of clubs was pulled from the deck and Bagheera felt the creamy weight of another chocolate muck monster as it hit her face.

This time the beautiful brunette just took one hand and swiped it straight down to clear as much of the chocolate goo from her face as she could. This only served to smear it even worse.

After the Ace though, and with nowhere to go but lower, Bagheera took home another hundred dollars when the seven of hearts was turned over, and she followed that with another victory when the ten of diamonds came up as she had gone higher. With half the deck gone and $1,800 dollars resting in her pockets, Bagheera was filling pretty good despite a face and even most of her head covered with chocolate pudding. But a change was just over the horizon, and Bagheera was not going to like it.

Bagheera's run of rotten luck started with another Queen, this time the Queen of diamonds. With the ten of diamonds showing, the smart thing was to go lower, and that's what Bagheera did.

"Oh, that's too bad," the emcee said when she turned over the Queen of diamonds. "But it seems you've lost again." And at a sign from her, the assistant plopped another of those gooey, chocolate pudding muck monsters right into Bagheera's pudding-soaked face. With another layer of sloppy goo covering her face, Bagheera just sat there in stoic silence.

The seven of diamonds brought Bagheera a nineteenth one-hundred-dollar bill, but old man fate reared his ugly head. With a seven on the board, Bagheera went higher but unfortunately for her the five of spades was turned over and the assistant took great delight in slathering a big gooey chocolate pudding pie all over Bagheera's face.

"Shit . . . that fucking Bobby. Oh, I am so going to . . ."

"So, Bagheera," the youngest Delgado to host a television show said soto voice, the five of spades is on the board, are you going higher or lower?"

"Higher, of course, you don't really think I would go lower, do you?"

"I don't know. Some people do really strange things. But, in this case you were right," the emcee said as she turned over the eight of diamonds. And Bagheera received her twentieth one-hundred-dollar bill.

The eight of diamonds, the dreaded eight-card. In the game of Hi/Lo, the eight of any suit is the worse card to draw. There are six cards lower than the eight and six that are higher. So, the odds are exactly fifty percent. The odds are perfectly even. You have a one in two chance of winning. But then again, you have the same chance of losing. Any other card, you can at least play the odds. Not with the eight, though. It's random luck. It's a toss-up, a pick, pure luck. And in today's game, the eights were Bagheera's downfall. She got all four eights wrong resulting in four messy chocolate pudding pies to her face.

In this case, the first of the eights, Bagheera went lower only to see the Queen of spades come up with the next card.

"Oh, Bagheera, that's so sad. You lost again."

And Bagheera took another of those messy chocolate pies to her face.

She had now lost three of the last five rounds, it wasn't going to get any better.

With a Queen showing, Bagheera went lower, and did win another hundred dollars but it was with an eight, the eight of hearts. And as with all the eights on this night, Bagheera guessed wrong. She went higher only to see the five of diamonds turn over. Another messy chocolate pie went into her face. That assistant was sure having a good time getting some payback.

With a five showing, and knowing only three cards could bring defeat, Bagheera went higher, but this time, the deck had been stacked, the odds went against her, Bagheera's luck had run out. HA!

The M.C. turned over the three of spades and Bagheera received another muck monster to her already, chocolate-coated face. It was the first time, all night that Bagheera had suffered back-to-back defeats. She had now lost five of the last eight draws.

With a three showing, Bagheera went higher, and won her twenty-second one-hundred-dollar bill. But just barely as the four of Diamonds was turned over. Disaster now struck, and once again, it struck twice in a row.

With a four on the board, Bagheera went higher only to see the three of diamonds pop up. And this was followed by the two of hearts. And for the fifth straight time, Bagheera had chosen higher. And she suffered her fourth defeat in the last five draws and the seventh in eleven tries.

This was another back-to-back loss situation for Bagheera. And this time, the assistant decided to do something a little different. Holding one of those chocolate muck monsters in each hand, he slipped up behind Bagheera and crushed them into the sides of her face in what many call a pie sandwich. As that sloppy goo slithered all over the front of Bagheera's face, she silently cursed Bobby for putting her in this situation.

OH you bastard, you fucking son-of-a-bitch . . . I am going to get you, Bobby. I will. Just you wait and see. I will get you.

With the second straight loss, the assistant slammed a chocolate pie straight down on top of Bagheera's head in what is called a pie hat.

More chocolate muck slathered down from Bagheera's head, covering her face and shoulders before ending in that valley between her breasts.

"Oh Bagheera," Maite Delgado said while trying to cover up a laugh that just wanted to escape, "you are such a mess. I hope the cleaners can save that dress." But despite her best intentions, a brief laugh did escape the emcee's lips.

Ooh . . . you think this is so funny, don't you? I wonder how you would like it if I slapped one of those messy chocolate pies in your face, bitch!

As Bagheera sat in that chair, with chocolate slop rolling down her body, she became angrier at . . . everything.

Ooh Bobby. I am so going to get you. I can't believe you actually made me do this. My dress is ruined. My boots . . . they are . . . ooh! I'm going to get you, you son-of-a-bitch!

But Bagheera's angst left and her humor returned when the Ace of diamonds was turned over.

"Another winner," Maite announced, "but it's kind of hard not to win when you have a two and you go higher." The hostess of So, Let's See How Messy We Can Get You! said in a snide tone.

"So, the Ace of diamonds is on the board, do you go higher or lower?"

"DUH, lower you little . . ."

Shit, I almost called her a twit. On live television, too.

And Bagheera took home another hundred dollars when the six of diamonds was turned over, and she had gone lower. Then she won a third straight time when the eight of spades came up, and this time she had gone higher. Bagheera now had $2,500 dollars.

But all good things come to an end, and it was, once again, an eight that was Bagheera's undoing.

For the third time in the last eleven draws, Bagheera saw an eight crop up. And for the third time, she chose wrong when she chose lower only to see Maite Delgado turn over the nine of hearts. And the assistant who used to work for the Venezuelan Queen of Muck as some journalists were already referring to her as that in their stories, took great delight in slathering another of those messy monsters of muck into Bagheera's face.

The Messy Model of Mayhem, another term some writers had coined for Bagheera, took home another hundred dollars when the four of clubs was turned over and she had gone lower. But disaster struck again when Bagheera went higher with only a three or two standing between her and another hundred dollars. Unfortunately for her, the two of clubs was turned over by Ms. Delgado.

"FUCK," Bagheera screamed as she leaped to her feet. She was so sure she would win this one as well. She slipped in the sloppy chocolate goo on the floor and almost fell, grabbing hold of the table in front of her just in time. However, this left the chocolate-saturated model with her magnificent derriere stuck high in the air. And that was just too tempting a target for the assistant to pass up.

SMACK!!! Like the sound of a high-powered rifle going off, he slammed a chocolate pie onto Bagheera's almost bare ass, as her short black dress had ridden up leaving most of Bagheera's butt exposed.

Well, her ass wasn't exposed anymore. It was now covered in chocolate pudding. And the owner of WAM Bagheera Studio stood there trying to rub the sting out of her sore rear end.

"YOU FUCKING BASTARD," she screeched at the young man who had inflicted the ultimate insult upon her.

"BAGHEERA . . . SIT DOWN please," the hostess of So, Let's See How Messy We Can Get You! said lowering her voice when her guest quickly complied.

The owner of WAM Bagheera Studio sat down, but she did so very gingerly as her butt was on fire from the less than gentle pie hit.

Still smarting from her latest defeats as well as the stinging sensation in her rear end, Bagheera wasn't mollified when the four of spades was turned over, nor when the King of diamonds reared his majestic head to send another hundred-dollar bill her way. Bagheera finally started to smile again as the three of hearts was turned over. She had now won three in a row as Bagheera had gone high, high, and low to win those cards. She won a fourth c-note when the eight of clubs was turned over, after Bagheera went higher. With an even $3,000 dollars sitting in front of her, Bagheera was in a jubilant mood. That all came crashing down, however, with the next card.
For the fourth time, Bagheera made the wrong decision with an eight sitting on the table. She went lower, only to see the Ace of hearts come up. And this cost her another of those extremely gooey chocolate pudding pies to her face. With her face all but obliterated by all that chocolate goo covering it, Bagheera sat there with a look of resignation on her mucky face.

But with nowhere to go but lower, Bagheera won her thirty-first hundred-dollar bill when the ten of hearts was drawn, only to lose again when the Queen of clubs reared her ugly head and Bagheera had, naturally gone lower. As with the eights, Bagheera just couldn't seem to have any luck when a lady was turned over. Every time a Queen was selected, the owner of WAM Bagheera Studio received a chocolate pie to her face. This time, Bagheera knew something was up when the assistant, and she finally remembered him, picked up two pies, one in each hand.

"Uh, what do you think you're doing?" she asked pensively.

But before she could get another word out of her mouth, the young man quickly stepped forward and slapped both of those mess monsters directly onto Bagheera's boobs, in what some call a pie bra.

OH, think that's so funny, don't you? Well, you just wait and see. I'll have my revenge. I will.

The last two cards were anti-climactic, as Bagheera won both, the six of hearts by going low and then the nine of spades with a higher pick. She added another two hundred dollars for a total of $3,300 dollars American money.

But, oh was she trashed. Bagheera's head and shoulders as well as the upper part of her magnificent chest were completely covered in brown gunge. Although, she won thirty-three times, Bagheera had suffered fifteen defeats along with three ties. Fifteen times she had to take pies to the face, head, butt, and boobs. Twice the assistant had hit Bagheera with two pies, so she took a total of seventeen pies. And she was a mess. It would get worse. Ha!

"Oh, Bagheera," the hostess of So, Let's See How Messy We Can Get You!, said while trying to maintain a straight face and failing badly, "you have won a significant amount of money. Let's see, that's thirty-three hundred dollars to be exact. What do you plan on doing with all that money?"

Bagheera, however, already in a very foul mood from the complete gunging she had received, snapped when she saw the really big grin on the emcee's face.

"None of your fuckin' business, bitch! I'll just take my money and go if you please."

But when the chocolate-covered woman reached for her winnings, Maite Delgado plucked them away.

"Not so fast, Bagheera. There is still the little thing called 'The Big Mess.'"

"You do, I'm sure," the hostess said, "remember clause 16A in the contract you signed?" Maite grinned wickedly, and added, "don't you?"

"What are you talking about . . . oh . . . shit."

"Ha, I see you do," Ms. Delgado said, turning toward the live studio audience to explain. "Clause 16A states that if a contestant gets the wrong answer more than ten times, then she has to take The Big Mess."

"And let's see, you lost one, two, three, then, eleven, ah . . . I count . . . fifteen times. Yep, you lost fifteen times. So, that means you get," and Maite turned toward the studio audience, and they all shouted, "THE BIG MESS!"

"Sorry Bagheera," though she looked apologetic, it was obvious that Maite Delgado wasn't really sorry.

Sorry my ass. You fuckin' bitch. You're enjoying this. Well I hope someday you find yourself in the same position. Then we'll see how you like it.

"Oh, just go ahead and get it over with," Bagheera practically spit out the words.
"This has been the worst night of my life. My dress is ruined. My boots are trashed. Look at them."

Just look at them . . . Ruined . . . ruined I say.

Then turning toward the studio audience, Bagheera showed her grubby right fist. "Bobby . . . BOBBY . . . I will get you for this. Do you hear me," the brown-haired beauty all but screeched.

"Just you wait, Bobby. If it's the last thing I ever do, I . . . will . . . get . . . you . . .!"

Bagheera had stood up to shake her fist at her boyfriend and this time Ms. Delgado didn't call her on it.

"Oh, Ms. Bagheera, before we do the Big Mess, there is one more thing we need to address."

"WHAT!"

Taken back just a bit by Bagheera's outburst, Maite Delgado quickly regained her composure.

"Yeah, we still have some pies over there," and she quickly counted to seven.

"Seven pies . . . there are still seven pies that weren't used. And . . . well, it would be a shame to waste them, don't you think."

"I . . . uh, what do you mean . . .?"

Oh Shit!

But before Bagheera could finish her sentence, the emcee nodded to the two assistants, and they started pelting Bagheera with pies. As each of those big sloppy chocolate pudding pies hit her head and shoulders, Bagheera was rocked back by the force of those thrown pies. One even landed on her magnificent boobs.

But the assistant who had previously worked for Bagheera picked up the last pie and slowly walked up to her.

"You probably don't remember me," he said, "but I used to work for you Ms. Bagheera. You weren't a very good boss back then," he added.

"And you're not a good person now."

And before she could respond, he pulled up the front of Bagheera's ruined dress, exposing her black lacy underwear. Then with a very loud splatting sound, he slammed that pie into the juncture where Bagheera's legs came together. Brown slop splattered everywhere, completely covering the front of Bagheera's panties.

"YOU SON-OF-A-BITCH!" Bagheera screamed at him.

But she wasn't paying attention to the other assistant nor Maite Delgado, who had picked up the first of three very large buckets. Each of the buckets were five-gallon buckets, or twenty-liter ones. And that bucket was filled with even more of the sloppy pudding that had been used in the pies that Bagheera had felt as they destroyed her good looks and her beautiful dress and high heel boots.

Now with Bagheera's attention diverted, the two attackers started pouring that chocolate pudding over Bagheera's head.

"Fuck," the fiery Latino cried out when the brown muck landed on her head. Turning to confront her new assailants, Bagheera caught that gooey muck right in her face.

"Pbbt, pbbt, yachk, mphf, pbbt, pbt."

Bagheera started coughing as she tried to clear her throat where she had ingested quite a bit of the chocolate goo. But you must give the beautiful contestant credit. She stood there and took every bit of that brown muck. She took the entire bucket of chocolate slop all over her head, her face, and even over her tits. By the time that bucket of muck had been emptied, Bagheera was covered with brown slop from head to toe. And there were two more buckets. Ha!

Shit . . . Oh, fuck.

With the weight from all the new chocolate slop that engulfed Bagheera, she felt around for that rickety, plastic chair. Half blinded from the mucky pudding that caked her eyelids, Bagheera did not realize there were several inches of the brown gunge in the chair. It wasn't until she sat down, though, and felt the squishy sensation as her magnificent ass hit the sloppy goo, that Bagheera realized what she had done. Not that it mattered, she was already covered with the messy muck. But when Bagheera sat down in that filthy sludge, it slathered out from under her and dripped down to the floor. The look of surprise on Bagheera's face was priceless. The audience, which had already been chuckling if not downright laughing now burst into an outrageous uproar. And Bagheera, poor Bagheera, just sat there, dejected, discouraged, and demoralized.

Shit. Why? Why more? Oh, Bobby . . . I am so going to get you for this.

But now, the two assistants waddled over to where Bagheera was sitting in the goo-covered chair. And between them, they had one of the remaining two monster buckets of chocolate slop. It was chocolate cake batter, and once again, there were five gallons of the sloppy muck in that bucket. This time, however, the pour went very quickly. Maite Delgado, though trying to help the assistant with the pudding pour did not have a lot of upper body strength to help. And Bagheera had been standing, another factor which made the pouring of the chocolate pudding more difficult and time consuming. Whereas the first bucket had taken almost thirty seconds to empty its contents the two assistants were able to dump all that chocolate goo on Bagheera in under half that time. And being chocolate cake batter, the mess was thinner and therefore easier to pour.

This time, though, Bagheera seemed to accept her fate with a certain dignity. She just sat there as all that sloppy muck cascaded down onto her head. She even looked up for the last half of the pour. Bagheera started smiling as she felt that gooey chocolate sauce flow down her head and into the top of her already saturated dress. Brown goo flowed down Bagheera's face, then chest, down her stomach and finally pooled in her lap. When it overflowed, the chocolate muck pooled on the floor at her feet. A lot of it even managed to fill her brand-new knee-high boots.

As that chocolate slop ran down Bagheera's body, starting on her head, then down her face and off her chin, it seemed to pick up speed until it hit her well-endowed bust. Then the brown, gooey, sauce seemed to slow down, as if in slow-motion while it filled her dress, her bra, even her panties, as the brown wave of muck made its way south. And Bagheera sat there through it all. She endured the humiliation with a stiff upper lip, as the British would call it.

When they were finished, Bagheera was even more of a mess, more of a trainwreck than before. And she was shivering, whether from the cold or rage nobody could tell.

As everyone in the studio audience watched, Bagheera sat there, completely covered in chocolate slop, her clothes drenched in that brown goo, her face a mixture of raw emotions.

Oh, Bobby . . . oh Bobby. I am so going to . . .

"OH WOW!" The Hostess with the Mostess, as many were calling Maite Delgado, because of her huge boobs. In fact, Maite's breasts were almost as large as Bagheera's tits were. "Bagheera, you look absolutely amazing. In all my time here, I have never seen any woman take as much muck as you did, without her fainting or going into hysterics."

Fuck you, Bitch!

"Yeah, well you can just kiss my . . . ASS, you fucking bitch!

The emcee looked a little startled, but only for a bit.

"Well, okay, then." And with that, Maite Delgado looked at the two assistants. And they lifted the third bucket, this one had five gallons of Hershey's finest chocolate syrup, and poured it all over Bagheera. For one minute and five seconds, because they took their time, the assistants poured that monster of mess. For over a minute, they poured that sticky, brown goo over Bagheera's head.

That brown, gooey syrup, so dark that it looked black, completely engulfed Bagheera. When they were finished, Bagheera had transcended modern art. She looked like a living, breathing sculpture. Bagheera looked like a statue on par with the Venus de milo, one of the Louvre's most magnificent pieces of art. Only Bagheera appeared to be made of liquid chocolate. And she looked amazing.

But this time, instead of a scowl, or even a frown, the owner of WAM Bagheera's Studio was wearing the biggest smile anyone had seen in a long time. Some would even call it a shit-eating grin. Not only did Bagheera appear to be happy, her demeaner was one of sheer joy. Bagheera appeared to be downright radiant. And every person in that audience could tell that she was happy.

Now, the studio had gotten quiet. A television studio, full of hundreds of boisterous people, who just a few minutes ago were roaring with laughter at the messy spectacle that Bagheera had become were now quiet as a mouse. And then it started. First it was just one. Just one person, a man near the back of the stage, then it was two, and then several. Pretty soon everyone in Stage 7, Sudio C were standing and cheering the amazing woman who had endured so much.

As this unbelievable show of loving support started to get through Bagheera's venire, a woman who, just moments before was on the verge of tears, a woman full of bitter anguish, a completely distraught person who had been thoroughly humiliated, a smile started to form on her muck-covered face. Pretty soon she was laughing, Bagheera, whose eyes shown through all the chocolate gunge that covered her face, was beaming with joy.

Wow! I can't believe it . . . WOW!

"Well, Bagheera . . . it seems they . . . like you," Maite Delgada said behind her own smile. "But there is still one last thing." And the hostess of So, Let's See How Messy We Can Get You! said while pointing to where the assistants were busy scooping the remains of the chocolate muck that had accumulated on the floor, into another five-gallon bucket filled with the chocolate goo. "There is still, the Final Mess. Are you ready?"

"Yes . . . YES!"

Hell yeah. I' m ready. Bring it on.

"Yes, Maite, I'm ready. Bring it on. Do your best. Or rather do your worst. HA! I can take whatever you have . . . HA! Whatever you throw at me.

The Final Mess was a huge bucket filled with all the leftover mess that had accumulated on the floor. Usually, the mess was made from some of the foulest, slop imaginable. But not today. This bucket was full of chocolate pudding, chocolate cake batter, and chocolate syrup. There were five gallons of mucky chocolate slop in that bucket. And Bagherra, rather than looking upon that gunge with a sense of dread, gazed upon the mess with an expectation of happiness to come.

"Bring it on. Bring . . . it . . . on!"

So, they did. They brought it on!

Again, the two assistants took their time. For one final time, those ministers of muck poured an extremely large bucket of chocolate mess over Bagheera's head. And this time, she looked up and took that entire mound of messy goo completely in her face. For one minute and fifty-eight seconds, Bagheera sat on that chair as the final round of messy mayhem descended upon her. And when it was over, she started smiling. The Bagheera started laughing. And pretty soon the entire audience had joined in. Now they were standing and giving Bagheera a rousing ovation. And, she loved it!