After a long wait...here's the final part of Gunk the Hunk at Christmas.

If you want to recap what's happened already, these are the previous 5 parts:
Part 1: Intro and Vote Game (https://umd.net/stories/i/gunk-the-hunk-at-christmas-intro-and-the/return/%2Fprofile%2Fi%2Fswimgunk%2Fsection%2Fblogs%2F)
Part 2: Underneath the Tree (https://umd.net/stories/i/gunk-the-hunk-at-christmas-underneath-th/return/%2Fprofile%2Fi%2Fswimgunk%2Fsection%2Fblogs%2F)
Part 3: Wrestling (https://umd.net/stories/i/gunk-the-hunk-at-christmas-wrestling/return/%2Fprofile%2Fi%2Fswimgunk%2Fsection%2Fblogs%2F)
Part 4: Play or Pass, Slop or Strip (https://umd.net/stories/i/gunk-the-hunk-at-christmas-play-or-pass/return/%2Fprofile%2Fi%2Fswimgunk%2Fsection%2Fblogs%2F)
Part 5: Dash from the Tank (https://umd.net/stories/i/gunk-the-hunk-at-christmas-dash-from-the/return/%2Fprofile%2Fi%2Fswimgunk%2Fsection%2Fblogs%2F)

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Jack and I glanced at each other, shaking our heads in shock. While we knew that we were in for a big forfeit at the end, we didn't realise how silly it would get. I took my reindeer mankini and headed behind a panel on the set where Steve had set up a makeshift changing booth, Jack doing the same on his end.

Putting on the mankini was an experience in itself. It was tighter than I'd imagined, and the reindeer face on the crotch area was both amusing and embarrassing at the same time. Around my hips were still the streaks of bean juice. I looked down and chuckled. I could hear Jack laughing in the next booth. "You alright in there?" I shouted.

"I look ridiculous!" he replied. "But it's all in good fun, right?"

"Definitely," I said, exiting the booth. Jack followed shortly, and our eyes met. We both burst into laughter. The outfits were outrageous, with our muscular bodies contrasting comically with the silly design. Jack glanced at me, laughter evident in his eyes, "Merry Christmas," he teased.

"Trust Steve to think of these," I mumbled, trying not to break into a fit of laughter.

Steve was trying hard not to laugh when we stepped back onto the set. "Alright, gentlemen, or should I say, reindeers? You know what time it is. The forfeit awaits." We reluctantly made our way to the two stools positioned in front of the gunge tank. "You two know the drill," Steve began. "Jack, as the loser, you get the first treatment. Hudson, you'll follow suit."

The first part of the forfeit were the classic: custard pies. Without warning, SPLAT! Steve had dished out a pie sandwich to Jack, cream caking his hair. He followed this up with another one right in his face. The custard covered more of his features, his hair sticky and dripping. He was barely recognizable beneath the yellow globs. "Oh man, that's some serious pieing," Jack said.

"Alright Hudson, your turn!" Steve instructed.

As the pies hit my face, I couldn't help but burst into laughter. The custard was cold and wet, and as it slid down my face, the comical reality of the situation hit me. Jack and I, two grown men, covered head to toe in custard, all in the name of entertainment. As the third pie hit my face, I opened my mouth to get a taste of sweet goodness. "So glad it's cheat day," I said after, wiping the cream from my eyes.

Steve then quickly declared, "Next up, the eggnog shower!"

He walked over carrying a huge bucket. Without further ado, he poured the eggnog, coating Jack from head to toe. The thick, creamy substance seemed to find its way into every crevice. Jack groaned a little, but his smile never left his face. I braced myself, and sure enough, it was my turn. The sensation of the eggnog was unexpectedly soothing after the abruptness of the pies. It was thicker than I had anticipated, and as it ran down, it mingled with the custard, creating a unique cocktail. I took a lick from my finger. "Again, doesn't taste bad!"

"Is this just a culinary tour for you?" Jack joked.

"Absolutely," I laughed.

Steve joined in with the laughter before saying "well I hope you're ready for the Christmas cake! But for this, I need you to stand first." We got up, careful with our footing not to slip over. Steve then brought over two huge cakes. They looked delicious, with creamy icing and sprinkles of green and red. He placed both of them on our stools. "Sit!" Steve commanded.

Both Jack and I teasingly said "Nooooo!", but then Jack went first, his face reflecting pure horror and delight. The cake squished beneath him, breaking into a hundred pieces. "You can do it!" Jack said encouragingly, and so I followed suit, feeling the moist cake compress under my weight. I grimaced and groaned. The sensation was bizarre; a mix of wetness, stickiness, and crumbs going up my crack. I glanced over to see what Jack's bum looked like, and his cheeks were all creamy. He caught me looking. "Best make sure we don't forget to clean back there in the shower after," he said, before winking.

Still seated on the broken cakes, the foaming began. Steve got a can out and sprayed us head to toe in foam. It didn't take long for us to be covered, and Jack was, with good spirits, trying to use his hand to block the avalanche. It didn't help much and soon, we were covered in fluffy white foam. It was as if we were being swallowed by a snowstorm. Our reindeer mankinis were hidden beneath a layer of white.

"You two are looking like proper Christmas hunks now," Steve chuckled. "Do you think that's it?"

"Steve, if there's anything I've learnt about 'Gunk the Hunk', it's that if there could be more, there will be more," I said. And with that comment, Steve picked up two buckets and stood behind us.

"You know Hudson, you're absolutely right." Jack got the first coating from the bucket, as cranberry sauce pooled out onto his flattened hair. Steve poured the thick red sauce slowly.

"You look a bit like a piece of turkey drowning in gravy," I teased.

"I don't know what you're chatting about, you're up next!" he retaliated with a smile.

He was right. Steve quickly picked up the other bucket and poured the sauce over my head and shoulders. It was cold, slimy, and a little bit sticky. As it was poured, it found its way into places I hadn't even realized were exposed. The sour smell of the cranberries filled my nostrils.

Steve walked back to behind the camera. "Well done boys, really good job!" We smiled and high-fived each other. "Now, are you ready for the grand finale!" Steve declared with an evil glint in his eye.

"Go on then!" I shouted, boosting my energy levels. Jack and I turned around and walked into the gunge tank where, for the first time, there were two seats. As we stepped in, the cold remnants from earlier squelched under our feet. The sensation was simultaneously horrifying and delightful, like stepping into an unknown world of sliminess.

We positioned ourselves to look directly at the camera. "In the tank about you lads is all the leftovers from todayso there's a bit of the red gunge you received in the vote, Hudson, some baked beans from when you picked presents out from under the tree, some of the gunge from your wrestlingand it's all got a little chilly."

"That's not going to help with our image in a mankini," Jack joked.

"Lads," Steve continued, "thank you for coming today and for being great sports. But, for one last time today, it's time to GUNK THE HUNK!"

And without much more warning, the gunge was released from above. Two jets, one for each of us, landed on our head. The coldness of it caused me to jump and lean back, which meant the gunge quickly hit in the inside of my mankini. I popped my head back under. I could smell the old food and held my nose. As it drenched us, I felt every sensation - the weight of it as it clung to our hair, the stickiness as it attached itself to our bodies, the chill as it seeped through the mankini.

After what felt like an age, Jack and I looked at each other, dripping and splattered in murky colours. It was the most ridiculous sight. We burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the basement.

Steve's voice echoed, "And that's a wrap for the Christmas Special of Gunk the Hunk!"

As we stepped out of the gunge tank, Jack slung an arm over my shoulder. "Best Christmas ever?" he joked.

I grinned, wiping a blob of gunge from my face. "Definitely."

I walked up the stairs to the shower, trying my hardest not to get any of muck on Steve's walls. I took the most thorough shower of my life, especially of my arse. I had such a good time, and it was better getting to play against someone else.

Soon, all of us found ourselves in the kitchen, clean, chatting over a pot of tea brewing. Steve, ever the host, served the tea and opened the conversation. "Well, that was one for the books, wasn't it? Never thought I'd see two people take on the Christmas forfeit!"

"Well, we're a team now!" I said. "Couldn't leave Jack to have all the fun."

"You could've taken it all if you wanted," he laughed.

"I'll be finding gunge in strange places for weeks," I said, before quickly making eye contact with Jack.

He met my gaze, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "Oh, absolutely. A memorable experience, to say the least. But I have to admit, the sight of you covered head to toe in mess might just be my highlight," he teased.

We stayed for another hour or so, and Jack and I exchanged phone numbers. As Jack and I headed out, Steve mentioned the show would air in about three weeks and promised us a copy of the footage beforehand. "Who knows, you might want to relive some of those moments," he said with a wink.

Once I got home, my phone buzzed almost instantly. I couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as I saw it was Jack who messaged me.

Jack: 'So... how about we don't wait for another invite to Gunk the Hunk? '

My fingers flew over the screen.

Hudson: 'Impatient, are we? I'm intrigued. What did you have in mind? '

Jack's reply came quick.

Jack: 'I'm thinking a more... private venue. My place, perhaps? But the real question is, what will you wear? Because I have ideas... '

I couldn't believe it. An invite to get gunged...but just in private.

Hudson: 'I guess you'll have to wait and see. But I expect you to return the favor. And I'm very creative with my... mess-making. '