- Apologies to all you oche fans, but we're interrupting the darts to take you straight over to The Slapstick Olympics where I've been told something extraordinary is happening. Trevor Greenwood is our commentator at the scene. Trevor -

- Thanks, Michael - and good afternoon to all of you watching at home. Yes, what's getting us excited here is that extremely messy young athlete who you can just about see right now, crawling through a pipe filled with sludge. He's Irishman Connor Grimes, and he's on the verge of setting a new world record. The event he's competing in is The Rat Run, and - if he keeps up this pace - we'll shortly witness him smash all previous results. To explain things, here beside me in the commentary box is champion custard pie thrower, Ben Verney. Ben, this just has to be the messiest indoor obstacle course ever, doesn't it?

- Trevor, it's the toughest. It's got all kinds of messy hurdles - oil guns, flour bombs, mud pits. You get muckier and muckier with each lap.

- Tell us what the competitors have to do.

- Well, Trevor, they have to complete as many circuits as they can within the timeframe. The one who completes the most wins.

- So there's only one man on the course at a time?

- Correct.

- How long do they each have?

- Two hours exactly. A little less than the fastest time for the men's Marathon.

- Wow. A long time.

- It's a hell of a long time when you've got flour and treacle in your eyes, yes.

- Speaking of which, it looks - oh dear - it looks like Grimes is having trouble right this moment.

- Yeah, by now with all the gloop that's over him he'll practically be running blind.

- So, Ben - are entrants allowed any protection?

- They're not. No goggles, no ear-plugs, nothing. Stuff gets in your eyes and your mouth, and you either keep going or you have to give up.

- And they only wear Speedos.

- Yes, Trevor. They're just in brief-style trunks, so they get filthy all over - the way Grimes is.

- Okay, so where's he at now?

- He's just finishing his twelfth lap, and nearly back to the starting point of the course. If he completes the next circuit before the final bell he'll set a new record.

- How much time has he got?

- There's nine minutes fifteen left on the clock. He's been averaging nine minutes ten point five, so providing he maintains his pace he'll make the history books.

- Okay, it looks like he's scrambled up into the first compartment - oh, and the buzzer goes, he's got the green light, the scoreboard flips over to twelve ...

- Big cheer there from the Irish fans.

- ... wipes his eyes ...

- The only place where that's allowed.

- ... a quick swig of water, spits ...

- You have to, Trevor. Your mouth, the taste, it's -

-... and he's off again ...

- ... vile.

- ... fast. Through the first door -

- Booby-trapped.

- Oh yes, there's a bucket on top of it ...

- Gets tipped.

- ... full of watery mud. Oh my - right over his head. He bashes through the second door - hey, booby-trapped too.

- Yep, that's a bucket of sawdust and powdered clay going over him.

- But now he's in a corridor.

- It's thirteen metres long, Trevor - his only chance to run. See - he has to brush through these turnstiles, and when he touches one ...

- } Wow.
- } Whoah.

- ... like he did then, he triggers an oil gun on the wall alongside him. That's engine oil by the way.

- Nasty. Splashes over his chest, down his thigh.

- Okay, he's out of the corridor, and now he's starting to the climb the chimney. It's an ascent of thirteen metres.

- It's a very narrow space. There are just tiny holds on either side. Looks as if he needs every ounce of strength to pull himself up.

- Three chambers lie between here and the top, and he's got to push his way up into each of them in turn. And - watch - as he pulls open the hatch beneath, it releases ...

- Oh. My. Word.

- ... a kilogram of soot.

- It's all over him. What must that be like? He is now just so ...

- Two more to go.

- f i l t h y . For the record, Grimes is twenty seven. He's one metre eighty-five, weighs seventy-eight kilos. From this camera angle you can see he's in pretty amazing shape

- Still climbing. He's reached the hatch that leads to the second chamber. He pulls down on the catch - and ...

- Whump. Soot everywhere. I was saying, Ben, Grimes has a great physique. Not an ounce of fat.

- He's into the second chamber. Yes, Trevor, the only extra weight he's carrying is all the gunk that's sticking to him.

- Ha ha, yeah. Grimes originates from Skibereen in County Cork. Now works in London as a professional mud wrestler.

- Up to the third chamber now. Opens the hatch ...

- Och - that load went straight in his face. Doesn't stop though. He just goes for it, doesn't he, Ben?

- That's why Grimes is such a favourite. Never dodges what's coming to him. So he's climbed the chimney, and now he's at the highest point of the course, on a platform. From here it's downhill through some messy slides and tunnels. But before he's allowed to proceed he must step over to that bracket. See it?

- Yep.

- It's got a downward pointing prong protruding from the wall. What he must do is hook the prong into the waistband of his trunks.

- Oh - clever - the bracket draws backwards automatically and pulls his trunks open.

- Watch above. A robot arm extends with a plate at its end.

- What's that on the plate, Ben?

- Half a litre of vanilla ice cream.

- The plate's tipping, and - oh my. Grimes gets the entire brick of ice cream down inside his trunks. Sooner him than me.

- Across to the opposite wall, and an identical bracket. This time he hooks the prong into the back of his trunks, and ...

- A jug ...

- A jug emerges on a robot arm to tip ...

- Yay.

... half a litre of caramel sauce down the back of his Grimes' Speedos.

- That must just feel d i s g u s t i n g .

- The grille lifts up. Grimes is allowed onto the slide. He dives forward, and trips a trough full of paste that's suspended above him.

- What's the paste made of, Ben?

- Flour and water, Trevor. Twenty litres of it have just poured all over him. He's bodysurfing downwards on a tidal wave of sticky -

- So this is the world's messiest helter-skelter ride. Ouch. That was a bump.

- Yes, a sudden drop there, and look, he slides out onto the platform which projects from the main structure, and ...

- Ouf.

- ... comes to a dead stop.

- His shoulders are trapped in a kind of harness.

- Yes, Trevor, he can't move again until ...

- Another robot arm is swinging out. There's a pie on its end. Oh, ho ho ho.

- Well aimed, yes?

- Slap in his face. That r e a l l y hit him. What was in the pie, Ben?

- Custard. Proper pastry base, too. And now the platform lifts upwards at its front end to send him sliding backwards.

- Yeah, he disappears feet first into another chute - below the level he came in on. It's like he's slipped down a drain.

- This slide is smeared with axle grease.

- There's not an inch of him that's clean now. Ouch - another drop. Seems as if he's fallen into the bottom of a bowl. What's in it? Frogspawn?

- Tapioca.

- He's actually sliding up the opposite side.

- Not for long.

- Ah no - back he comes.

- But see - he disappears head first through down another chute that's just beneath the point he dropped in. Watch - here's the corkscrew -

- Ah - too fast to see.

- He's just turned through a 'U' in a vertical drop. The slope eases out

- So he's on his back, sliding headfirst down a tunnel that's lubricated with ... what's the sticky black stuff, Ben?

- Treacle. And - look - every time his shoulders hit sensors on the sides of the chute they set off jets of paint under high pressure.

- Yellow, pink, orange. He's flying through a paint storm.

- Another drop.

- Ay-ee. What's that he's landed in? Flour?

- Yep, Trevor. There's a bed of dry flour at the bottom of the slide. Four minutes fifty-five seconds gone. No guarantee he'll finish the circuit at this pace.

- The flour's totally matted to him - his chest hair, his legs.

- He has to crawl through that tiny door ...

- The camera's following him. Sorry, uh, viewers - that was a very ... uh ... very close close-up. Unforgiving, I think is the word.

- Well, Trevor, you wouldn't take part in this if you were worried about your dignity.

- Suppose not. So - now that Grimes' backside is no longer filling the entire width of our screens, we can see he's crawled into a kind of upright cabinet.

- This is the blancmange box, Trevor. It's made of Perspex, three metres tall.

- He stands, and - oh lordy -

- Yes, the instant he shut the door behind him bright pink sauce started to pour in.

- It's coming from above the top of the box. It's a deluge.

- He can't get out of the box till it's full to the top.

- Ben, the space is scarcely wider than his shoulders. How can he breathe when the stuff's coming in over his head in such quantity? It's filled the box to his thighs already. What is this gloop?

- It's cornflour that's been boiled with water, Trevor, then coloured pink.

- It's reached his crotch. The box is filling up so fast.

- He's going to have to dog-paddle in it soon. Watch.

- Hard to see with the splashes, but I think it's rising up his chest. No, it's reached his chin.

- Got his feet off the bottom now. He's floating in it.

- Still pouring in over him.

- Grimes knows e x a c t l y when he'll have risen high enough to reach up. He's got to haul himself through the only opening - provided he can grip the edge. There he goes -

- Bad luck.

- Slipped back in.

- Disappeared.

- No he's there. Gasping, but he's there. Oh, and this time he's grabbed the edge. He's kicking down to give himself leverage.

- Amazing strength.

- Looking tired, though. Not sure he's going to make it.

- He's wriggled out. Oh my God - just look at him - slimed from head to toe. He's emerged onto another platform. What's next, Ben?

- The Tarzan swing. He grips a rope ... uh ... there - launches himself off the platform. It's a big drop beneath him, and ...

- Wow. Was that an explosion?

- ... six flour bombs detonate above him.

- He's swinging through a thick white cloud. He. Is. Just. Coated.

- Now he has to swing over the top of a barrier.

- Lets go. Falls -

- Lands on a sheet. It's made of polypropylene - suspended diagonally.

- Sort of a sail.

- He slips down. It's slicked with lubricant.

- He's ... he's fallen off its bottom edge. Where's he gone? It's a great black pit.

- Dead or alive, Trevor, he'll be in there somewhere. That was the biggest drop on the course. Contestants fall from nearly three metres into a tank. It's over two metres deep itself, filled with all the stuff from above that's dropped down - so there's oil, soot, flour, syrup, and grease - all churned up.

- It looks t o t a l l y disgusting.

- Doesn't smell too good, either. There's a rumour the overflow from the spectators' urinal empties into it, too.

- You're joking, aren't you, Ben?

- Okay, Grimes resurfaces, but he dives under again immediately to search for the only way out. And that is a pipe, but it's submerged in the muck. Yes - Grimes locates it like a missile. Now he has to crawl along a tube that's filled with all this mess. Competitors call it 'the sewer'.

- You say 'crawl', Ben. More like grope and scramble. I can't even see him. He's submersed most of the time.

- There are air pockets spaced every two metres. See him now?

- My God - his head, his hair ...

- Then he must dive under to the next one.

- ... just streaming with the black yucky stuff.

- Time's slipping, but he's got to the end - reached the rope ladder. He pulls himself up out of the slime

- It must be tough, having to climb at this stage. And m o r e stuff?

- Oh yeah. A cloud of icing sugar is being blown at him by an air-jet below. He's got just ten seconds left to get through the trap door and back to the starting point. Five, four ... will he make it? Yes - he's climbed through. I think he's done it.

- This is incredible.

- A green light - the scoreboard says thirteen. He's done it.

- And there's the final bell. He has done it. Grimes has done it. Grimes has broken the world record.

- With one point three seconds to spare.

- By the look on his face, he knows he's done it. What a grin. His teeth are the only part of him that's clean. Seriously, I can't b e l i e v e how messy this young man is. Our reporter Dan Calvert should be outside the start of the course to catch a word with the new champion. Dan, are you there?

- I'm here, Trevor. So much excitement. Connor Grimes should be coming through that door any moment. His trainer, his agent, the coach for the Irish team have all rushed in to congratulate him. Oh - and here he is. Connor, Connor, excuse me ... Dan Calvert, BBC. Congratulations, well done ... what was it like?

- Thank you now. Ach, it was grand.

- Can you tell us how you feel?

- Maybe a bit puffed, and maybe a bit tacky round the bollocks, you know what I mean?

- You've just set a new world record. Looking ahead, what are you hoping to do?

- I'd really like to ...

- ( Here's a flannel, Con boy. )

- Oh, cheers, Flynnie. I'd really like to -

- ( Will you wipe your eyes now? )

- Sure. I'd really like to take off these wet trunks, have a hot shower, and scrape the flour out of my pubes and arse-crack, you know?

- Uh, yes, right, okay, well, I think it's back to you in the commentary box, Trevor.

- Thanks, Dan, and ... let's see - yes, I'll hand over to Michael in the studio.

- Thank you, Trevor. So - we'll leave it there at The Slapstick Olympics, and return straight away to Darren Snell in Stevenage for more darts action. Darren ...