This story directly references all four previous parts. You can find the links here:

Part 1 (Introduction and The Gunk Hunk Quiz): https://umd.net/stories/gunk-the-hunk-introduction-and-the-gunk
Part 2 (Avoid the Hudson, Hudson): https://umd.net/stories/gunk-the-hunk-avoid-the-hudson-hudson-pa
Part 3 (Save the Supplies): https://umd.net/stories/gunk-the-hunk-save-the-supplies-part-3
Part 4 (Safe Box): https://umd.net/stories/gunk-the-hunk-safe-box-part-4

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As I was showering in Steve's bathroom for the penultimate time, rubbing off a little bit of pie from behind my ear, I reflected on what I had already endured: several tankings, getting covered in loads of food, and being pied in the face many times. I found myself smiling. I hadn't expected to enjoy this shoot so much.

I gently hobbled out of the shower, wrapped the damp towel around me, and did my best to dry myself off. Although I knew that it would be incredibly unlikely for me to escape the final game completely clean, I hoped that the most would be a quick pie in the face and then I could be proud I defeated one of Steve's crazy games. I picked up the final clothes package, which was a red lycra singlet that had very low arm cutouts and showed off my chest.

After a quick flick of my hair in the mirror to make sure I looked good, I headed back down to the basement. Most other times, Steve was still preparing for the next game, moving equipment around or the sort. However, it was strange to see everything look almost tidy in there. The camera was set up directly in front of the tank, and next to Steve was a few buckets filled with gunge and an assortment of surprises. "Take a seat in the tank for me, Hudson." I walked over and got in, the slight feeling of claustrophobia returning as I looked straight into the camera. "Are you ready to start?" Steve asked.

"OhI guess so. Are you not going to tell me anything beforehand?"

"Not this time. I'm afraid I just want your unfiltered reactions to this one." I gave him a thumbs up and he hit record. "We're back with Hudson for his final game of Gunk the Hunk, but before we continue, Hudson, have you enjoyed yourself today?"

"So much. I've been slopped and messed about more than I could've imagined."

"And you've worn some pretty out-there outfits, what's been your favourite?"

"Oh definitely the sailor, I imagined that I looked like a Chippendale. Can I keep it?" I cheekily asked.

"Haha, no, I think that's one of the fan favourites. So you seem to have enjoyed yourself a lot today, but the question is, how much of today do you remember? I'm going to ask you four questions, and each question will be related to one of the four games you've played today."

I smiled. "Should be easy, right?"

"Well, it's a case of knowing how perceptive you are and what your memory is like. And remember, you gambled the rest of the mess from the last game into this one, so you could be getting very gunged up."

"I'm sure that's what your viewers are counting on," I said with a grin on my face. Steve smiled too at this point. I imagine some guys just don't get 'it' and he has to work twice as hard. I hoped this slightly cocky persona would translate well onto the screen.

"Each question," Steve continued, "has a sloppy forfeit attached to it, so you do want to try your best in getting these questions correct."

"I haven't done a great job of that so far today, so I shall be looking forward to my next shower," I giggled.

Steve asked if I was ready and started the quiz. "In your first game, The Gunk Hunk Quiz, you were slimed by the tank. But what colour was your first gunging?"

I thought for a moment about this. I tried to remember if I looked in the mirror following the gunging and if I could see what colour I had been drenched in. "I should know what colour gunge took my gunge virginity away from me, shouldn't I?! But, I'm going to go for blue." I didn't sound confident.

Steve stared intensely at me. I couldn't read his face. "You were gunged in orange!" he revealed. I sighed. My hopes of not having another shower had been dashed, and Steve wasted no time in picking up one of the buckets next to him. I started to get into position, ready for my gunging. "Maybe, Hudson, this bucket will help you remember what colour your first gunging was."

And with that, he threw the bucket of orange gunge right at me sitting in the tank. It splattered across me and left a human-shaped outline on the wall at the back. I suddenly looked much more orange as the thick gunge dripped from my face onto my crotch. "Oooh, I felt a little bit of that go down my singlet!" I exclaimed. Steve laughed.

"Your second game today was 'Don't Go Into the Hudson, Hudson...'" Steve continued.

"Aptly named." I interrupted.

"...and you were asked a series of questions. But I want to see how much you've retained knowledge from earlier. So, which stadium was home to the New York Mets from 1964 to 2008, and the New York Jets football team from 1964 to 1983?"

"Oh really, you give me that question again! I can't remember that." I laughed, I knew the gunge would be coming again. "I think I said MetLife earlier, but that's too new. I'd have guessed Yankee." I paused for a while trying to come up with anything that could be the right answer. "I'll guess the Queens Stadium."

"The Queens Stadium?" Steve replied.

"Yeah, why not?" I said jokingly. "We'll call it the Queens Stadium of Light and Baseball and Football."

We both laughed. "At least you guessed a real stadium earlier, but no, the answer isn't that, it's the Shea Stadium."

"Huh?" I responded. I didn't remember that at all. That might have something to do with the fact that after I answered that question earlier, I got pelted with ketchup. Steve picked up the button that he'd been using to release the gunge tank all day. "Wait, what are you doing with that already?" I asked.

"Oh Hudson, it's the final game. If you get the questions wrong, you're not just going to get a little bit messy, you're going to get VERY messy." And with that, he slammed his hand onto the button and I started to get covered in bright pink gunge. I arched my back as a cold stream travelled down my spine, but this movement meant my face started taking the full force of the tank. I could feel the thick gloop hug my body, and some more gunge fell down into the pouch of my singlet. Once the stream stopped, I had a feel of my crotch and felt gunge seeping out of the lycra. "You're looking so gunged right now," Steve said, "and we're barely halfway through the game!"

I looked down at myself and my body was completed covered in pink slime, with tiny bits of orange still peeking out in areas. "I think this is already my biggest gunging yet."

"Onto Question 3, and the third round you played today was 'Save the Supplies'. And I think it's fair to say, you did quite well in securing the supplies back to the chest. But how many supplies did you not manage to get back to safety?"

"That's impossible! How am I meant to remember that?" But that was the point. This was the finale of the show, this is where Steve wants to get me as messy as humanly possible. Well, I didn't want to make it too easy for him. "Ok, I'm pretty sure I got some beans, a pie or two, some custard. I reckon about 9 supplies."

Steve winced. For a moment, I thought I had done it. "You're incredibly close, but it was 10 supplies!"

"No!" I shouted. "Be gracious with me, Steve. Let me free!" I said jokingly. Steve shook his head.

"Hudson, have you been wondering where all the mess from today has gone?" I felt myself get very nervous. "Well, a lot of it has gone into this bucket here!" I groaned in trepidation at the next forfeit. "Some of the mashed potato, beans, custard, as well as some of the gunge from each tanking, has ended up in this bucket. And this bucket is about to end up over you!"

Steve pulled back his arms and launched the contents of the bucket at my chest. It splashed onto my face and legs. It was a murky colour, with lumps of beans and mashed potato obviously in there. Steve made sure the full contents of the bucket were emptied on me by pouring the remaining contents onto me.

"Oh that's got a strange smell," I said. "I'm getting a yucky smell mainly," I joked.

Steve laughed. "I'm not going lie, you look terrible," he said, "but in the best possible way." A glance down my body showed me that the once pink slimed body I had was being taken over by this mish-mash of muck. "Onto your fourth round today, 'Safe Box'. You gambled the leftover mess from that game for this final one..."

"And as you can see, I'm so clean right now, it was totally worth it," I interrupted in a sarcastic but playful manner.

"...so it won't surprise you to know that if you get this wrong, that's the slop that will be going over you. Your final question of the day, what were the numbers of the three boxes that lost you that game?"

I leaned back in desperation. "Come on, I'm never going to remember that. But I'm already so messy, bring on any mess you have left. So I'll say 1, 5, and 9 as a total guess."

"Well Hudson, you'll be pleased to hear that Box 1 gave you the milkshake earlier. But Box 5 was safe and you didn't open 9 and I needed three correct answers for you to avoid this mess." He then picked up a tin of beans and a carton of custard and started walking over to me.

"Oh no, I'm not a fan of the beans, but I'll happily take the custard. That's not too bad." Steve reached in and started pouring the tin over my head. The juices quickly started to stream over my face, followed by the lumpy beans which fell on either side of my neck and in two lines down the front of my once-red singlet. "Urgh, that wasn't nice." But before I had a chance to wipe off the beans, Steve started pouring the carton of custard over my head. This felt much more relaxing, and I even looked up into it to get my face covered. After a few glorious moments of being gunged in custard, I wiped my eyes and saw Steve walking back towards the camera. "Oh, what a good gunging to end the day on."

"Well, actually," Steve smirked, "you got every question there wrong. So clearly you haven't been paying attention today, so I think you need to stay there for one more gunking."

He turned the camera off and reached for a step ladder. "What's going on now?" I asked.

"I'm going to refill the tank," he said, grinning so wide you could see all his teeth. I got the impression that he was enjoying this shoot, and I was more than happy to be his stooge. Carefully, he climbed up the step ladder and poured about 5 buckets worth of gunge into the tank. This was maybe the strangest part of the day, as I had to sit there, dripping in slime, waiting to have more gunk dumped on me. "Alright, we're good to restart shooting now," Steve said, putting away his step ladder. He hit record again on the camera. "So, how have you enjoyed today Hudson?"

"It's been a proper laugh. A very humbling experience too! I'm not as good at quizzes about what I did earlier today, let alone about New York or something!"

"Well, I want to thank you for being an excellent sport and coming onto the show. But there's one thing left for me to do. It's time toGUNK THE HUNK!"

I welcomed my final gunking by looking up and shutting my eyes as I saw the small hole in the tank open. The force of the stream landed straight on my face and I enjoyed this sensation of warm slime coating me one last time. I'm not sure what came over me but I opened up the singlet and let some of the gunge go straight in my crotch. I felt it pool up in there and once it felt full, I closed it and let the rest of the slime fall onto me.

I could hear Steve clapping in front of me. I wiped my eyes and saw that I had turned into a purple mess. "That was one of the best gungings we've ever had Hudson!"

"You think?!"

"Honestly, you can come back any time you want. I'm sure your show is going to sell fantastically."

I breathed in deeply. Steve told me he needed one or two photos for promos and then we shot a short teaser video that would go on social media: "Hi, I'm Hudson, and I've just finished my shoot at Gunk the Hunk. Check it out in the link."

About eight weeks after I left, I got a text from Steve. "Hi mate, the show will be released tomorrow. Emailed you a link to watch it." I rushed to my laptop and I sped through watching the show, skipping to the gungings. I was so impressed with how it looked, and how silly I looked, particularly in the final tanking.

I shared the show on my socials the day after, and then I thought very little of it. A few weeks later, Steve text me again and said that the show had been the fastest selling of the year so far. "Would you be interested in coming back at the end of the year?" he texted.

I didn't wait long to reply. "Definitely."