Note: This was intended to be the last instalment, but as I went through the epilogue I found myself expanding the final sections (or perhaps part of me finds it hard to let go of this series after all this time). Either way, I eventually realised that it had developed into what was basically two distinct phases, and that since the first was already as long as a regular chapter, it made sense to split it in two.

Sorry to drag things out. I promise that the second half of the epilogue really will be the final, final part. Honest.

Epilogue I: The Way Out

A simple timber cabin sat a short distance from the dome's north-eastern side. Here, within a long, sparsely furnished waiting room, Annabelle stood dawdling. Humming to herself, she adjusted her snug white t-shirt, peering down at the Splatter Dome logo emblazoned across her chest. Nearby, Ellie, Louise and Holly were doing likewise, while Lucy paced about near the exit. They had all changed into black shorts and white, yellow or pale blue t-shirts. Having predicted the outcome of Jen and Sarah's battle - albeit accidentally in Annabelle's case - they would be spared whatever messy fate was set to befall the others, all of whom were still in an adjoining changing room.

Ellie glanced around, lips pursing. "I don't get why they asked us to change," she said with evident suspicion. "Aren't we the ones staying clean?"

Studying her reflection in a nearby mirror, Holly shook out her flaxen hair. "True, but I guess if there's gunk being thrown about, or even just water, there's always a bit of risk. I'd rather not head home in mucky clothes."

Ellie took a moment to consider this, then bobbed her head. "I guess that makes sense. If they ever tell us what we're meant to be doing, that is."

To her right, Annabelle noticed Louise do a quick double-take before turning toward her. "Umm, are you expecting a trick, Annabelle?" she asked, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

Annabelle smirked. Louise had no-doubt noticed that she was wearing swimwear under her clothes.

"Not really," she replied, somewhat evasively. "It's like Holly said, we might still get splashed a bit. And I'm in a white top." She saw Louise nod in understanding. "Exactly."

Noticing sunlight wash through the room, she glanced to the exit to find that Joanna, one of the organisers, had arrived. Straightaway Lucy intercepted her. Though Annabelle couldn't hear exactly what was being said, she knew what Lucy was asking - the two of them having formulated a plan on the walk from the control room. Judging by Jo's body language, things seemed to be going well.

Just then the first of the soon-to-be victims emerged from the changing room. Dark hair fluttered as Lena came bounding in wearing only a leopard-print string bikini. Nikki was right behind her, striding confidently, wearing something very similar but in metallic blue. The bronzed brunette casually flicked back her hair while adjusting her top.

"Hey there," said Holly. "Looking good."

"Haha, thanks," replied Lena, placing her hands on her hips. "I'm ready for my forfeit. Have they told us what's happening?"

Louise shook her head. "Not yet. Do you really not feel nervous?"

The two bikini-clad women exchanged impish grins. "What do you think, Nikki? Nervous?" asked Lena.

Nikki pretended to scowl, though it lasted barely two seconds before dissolving into another of her dazzling smiles. "So long as you get messed up as badly as I do, I'll be fine," she said, patting Lena on the shoulder.

Hearing footsteps approach, they turned to find Joanna marching up to them. Behind her, Lucy caught Annabelle's eye and nodded a fraction.

Yes!

"Are the others almost ready?" asked Joanna. "We don't have much time."

"I think so," Lena replied. "Tasha's just doing her hair, and the Aussies are all changed. They're just standing around making fun of each other."

Joanna nodded. "Good." Suddenly she looked worried. "What about Liz?"

Ooh, right. Annabelle thought back to the morning, when Liz had taken almost half an hour to pick a costume. Just then, though, a familiar cut-glass accent sounded from the changing area.

"What about me?"

With that Liz strolled elegantly into the room, her tall, exquisitely proportioned body now clad in a daring, flamingo-pink bikini. Seeing the way Liz glanced at her and bobbed her eyebrows made Annabelle stifle a chuckle. After taking great pleasure in gunging each other over the course of the day, Liz had requested that Annabelle be the one to bring down the final deluge during her forfeit. Annabelle had needed no convincing.

Lucy tapped a hand against her chin. "What's Kelly doing? We'd already picked her outfit."

"Ah, yes, about that," said Liz. "She's chatting to Belle, trying to...." Turning to address Joanna, she hesitated, choosing her words as diplomatically as possible. "You may want to have a word with your colleague. I think she's having... doubts."

Amid a scatter of disappointed murmurs, Joanna nodded slowly. "Thanks. I'll talk to her." Suddenly she clapped her hands together. "Okay, let's get this moving. The rest of you, head on out - the staff will show you to your places. I'll hurry the others. Go quick."

"I don't understand," said Annabelle, "what's the hurry?"

"Just trust me."

*****

The silver throne rolled smoothly onward. Relaxing into the strange wheeled seat that apparently served as the station's escape pod, Sarah twirled a strand of golden hair and watched the circle of daylight at the tunnel's end draw steadily nearer. Around her the cylindrical passage slid serenely past, the small platform advancing faithfully along its tramline tracks. Every surface shone heavenly white and was lit by a soft glow, a welcome respite after the chaos she had just endured. Snatches of birdsong reached her ears - soon she would be free.

Twelve contestants had entered the dome. Only one would emerge undefeated.

A water droplet rolled down the side of her face. Still damp from her recent clean-up, Sarah wrung out her hair before delicately adjusting her top to release a few trickles of water. It was a relief when blasts of warm air suddenly bathed her, emerging from long vents on the walls. Removing a hand from the chair, she styled and teased her flowing blonde locks as best she could, glad to be greeting the outside world looking at least vaguely presentable. It would have been nice if she'd been wearing something more substantial than a lily-white string bikini, but with luck there'd be time to change before any commemorative pictures were taken.

Sarah preened with satisfaction. It was hard not to feel smug after what she had accomplished. Me! The first ever winner!

It still seemed inconceivable that she'd done it. Her ambition of coming through both victorious and spotless hadn't quite come true, nor had her resolution to remain dignified throughout the ordeal, but no matter. Nothing pleased Sarah more than winning, and dignity, as it turned out, was a difficult thing to maintain when rolling around in gallons of slime.

Of course, her attitudes then and her attitudes now were very different things. Had she known all that would befall her, she probably would have stayed on the plane, but now, with hindsight, she almost regretted staying clean for so long. Some of those early games and forfeits looked like tremendous fun. Still, she thought, I probably ended up messier than anyone... besides Jen, of course. The very thought of Jen's fate brought a smile to her lips.

Soon she would return to the real world, a world of premieres and press junkets and photo shoots. It would be time to be glamorous again. In here, so much of what bound her had ceased to apply, and now it was ending. She found herself wondering whether there was a place like this in the States...

The soft afternoon glow grew ever closer. As the gusts of warm air ceased, a lilting melody reached her ears, accompanied by a wafting scent of orchards and cut grass. The tunnel seemed to end in some sort of pavilion where celebratory music was being played. She was almost there.

Tapping the slender armrests, which were set wide and rose to above elbow height, she rolled her shoulders and felt the ramshackle platform rattle beneath her. Shiny though everything was, it was all still decidedly low budget - or at least made to appear that way. Clattering quietly along on its tracks, it was less triumphal procession, more carnival float. No, she decided, that wasn't the best comparison. It reminded her more of a fairground ride, like a carousel, or a... ghost train.

Sarah's shoulders tensed. Eyes narrowing, she leaned forward, scanning the tracks ahead.

Phew, guess I'm just being paranoid. For a second I thought... wait....

Something was out of place. Up ahead, a section of track seemed different to the rest. Clasping the armrests, she sat forward and peered warily at the aberration. Her breath caught.

It was a crossroads. The tracks diverged, one set proceeding up the tunnel while another veered to the left, seemingly straight into the wall. No - not a wall. The white surface and soft lighting had rendered it all but invisible, but now she saw it. Another passage.

Sarah's mouth began to move, soundless syllables forming on her tongue. Her mind raced. The crossroads was fast approaching. There was a faint lurch, and then the platform seemed to speed up a fraction.

"They wouldn't..."

Seeing that the junction was still directing her toward the exit, and with no sign of any controls that would shift the pod to the other tracks, Sarah breathed in relief.

"Maybe it's nothing. Just a service tunnel," she muttered. Still, the thought gnawed at her. Feeling her lips beginning to curl into a bewildered grin, she shook her head. "Don't you dare," she commanded, pointing to the junction. "Don't you dare move!"

She was almost at the turning point. Eyes wide, fingers digging into the chair, she watched the tracks with hawk-like intensity. Only a few more seconds and she would be safe.

The music was changing now, becoming slower, more distorted. Not sure whether to laugh or scream, Sarah listened as the serene melody morphed until it wasn't even music any more, just an echoing, drawn-out laugh, as though from some monstrous clown. Oh no.

With a muted clang the tracks shifted. The pod swerved to the left.

"W-wait!" called Sarah, not fully knowing whether she was serious or playing along. "Stop this thing!"

Klaxons blared. Sarah curled back in her seat and groaned, hands lifting to her forehead. Suddenly the music stopped and all was pitch darkness. The platform rolled on, heedless of her pleading. Gradually the klaxons faded, as did Sarah's yells. Now the only sound was the gentle clatter of wheels.

Nodding her head in resignation, Sarah exhaled slowly. It seemed the dome wasn't quite done with her after all.

Laughter bubbled forth into darkness. It was a few moments before Sarah realised it belonged to her. Perched atop her throne, heart pounding in her chest, she peered breathlessly into the gloom. As the seconds ticked by, she straightened, trying to at least appear confident. The pod veered sharply to the right and rumbled on into inky gloom. Sarah's fingers tapped against the chair. She had a good idea what was coming.

"Hah!" she called into the blackness, her voice sounding far meeker than she'd intended. "You're going to slime me, aren't you?" She waved her hands, though nobody could see. "What are you waiting for? Come on, I'm right here! You think I'm scared? I've already won."

Her arms returned to the rests just as a quick blast of viscous liquid spattered her left side, prompting a startled yelp. Thick globs slid downward, oozing cool and smooth around the knot of her bikini bottoms. Moments later, something else spilled from the ceiling, peppering her hair with something far too slick to be water.

She let out an exaggerated moan, as though despairing at her fate. The pod rolled ever onward, twisting and turning. Disoriented, Sarah blinked as lights flared suddenly. She was in a cylindrical passage much like the one before, except now the walls were dark grey and riddled with those strange purple vines. Peering down at herself, she grimaced on seeing dandelion-yellow blobs glistening on her flank. Just then frothy green foam leapt from the right-hand wall, but it was aimed too far forward and splashed harmlessly onto the floor.

Savouring this small victory, Sarah bounced in her seat and waved at the unseen watchers. "Nyah-nyah! Missed me!" The words stuck in her throat - the spray was still coming, and the platform was trundling into its path. "Oh no. Ha-ha, no-no-no. Wait!"

Lifting her arms and planting her elbows atop her thighs in an effort to shield herself, Sarah hunched over as she went through the foaming sprays. The highest spurts sent locks of her hair swaying inward, caressing her face, while mint-green foam banded her arms and knees. For a moment she thought she might've escaped the worst of it, only to squeak as she rolled past the sprayer itself. Green slush surged around her defences to spatter the right triangle of her bikini top and weave undulating splashes across her stomach. Gasping, Sarah watched the stuff spill down her stomach, her skin tingling at the sensation.

The sound of sloshing liquid could be heard now, coursing unseen somewhere close. Slowly she looked up, only now noticing the hatches and apertures, the chutes and sprinklers that studded the tunnel's surface. As she wiped off the foam, she remembered what she'd said to Jen - about how the villain always had to get their comeuppance. Though still panting in shock, she found herself starting to play along.

"You can't do this to me. I won, you hear me? I'm the champion!"

Again she squealed as the platform picked up pace. A chorus of hisses gave her a half-second warning before sprayers surged forth all along the passage. Sarah was swept into a blizzard of flying custard, a latticework of slimy sprays springing forth to douse her.

Hands pressed into the armrests, she found herself shivering with giggles. Custard threaded her hair like strings of buttercups and spattered glistening galaxies on her torso. The thickest gunk sank the fastest, pooling in her lap and snaking down her legs. More was collecting on the seat, sliding around the back of her bikini bottoms and pouring out along her thighs.

Quickly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Sarah found herself tittering quietly. With her chin tucked down to keep her vision clear, she was treated to a real-time view of herself being gunged, witnessing every gobbet of gunk that splashed onto her chest and thighs. Peeking up to try and see where the next onslaught would come from, she froze on hearing a series of metallic creaks. Long, metre-high hatches opened at waist height on each side of the tunnel, amber light flaring from within. As the platform drew near, Sarah craned forward, trying to see inside. Spying movement, she caught her breath and then groaned with knowing laughter.

Familiar faces appeared at the hatches. Annabelle and Holly grinned at her from one side, Ellie and Louise from the other. They wore t-shirts featuring the Splatter Dome logo, and mounted on the hatch's edge in front of them were four stubby, swivel-mounted sprayers with paddle handles on each side. Sarah didn't need to ask what they fired. She juddered forward in her seat as the platform suddenly slowed to a crawl.

"No, no - please!" she squeaked, knowing full well her plea would fall on deaf ears.

Amid exultant yells, the sprayers activated. Slow spouts of purple and orange slime erupted over Sarah. Ducking her head, she watched liquid sashes come sweeping over her torso, their touch thick and slippery as they curled diagonally inward and collided across her midsection. Her assailants' fun-filled roars filled the air, accompanied now by scents of blackcurrant and citrus. Hanging curtains of wet hair framed her vision, seeming to shimmer and ripple as flying gunk threaded her golden locks.

Yelping as a cool splash tickled her neck, Sarah thought of a new appeal. "Wait - wait! The game's over. I won! I should be safe now."

It was no good, of course. Squirming on the spot, her face scrunched up as the purple-orange concoction warred across her body, she took grim satisfaction on hearing her attackers' laughter go up in pitch, peppered now with surprised squeaks. The gooey crossfire meant that any slime that missed Sarah went flying across the tunnel, much of it going through the opposite hatch. With globs catching in their hair and squiggled splashes blooming on their tops, the four contestants kept up the barrage. Louise in particular was spraying merrily away without even a pretence at avoiding friendly fire - a fact that Holly was becoming very much aware of.

Seeing a grinning Annabelle taking aim, Sarah squeezed her eyes shut just as creamy purple gunk doused her face, the mess dribbling from her nose and chin to run into her cleavage. Her hair felt heavier now, becoming slick against her shoulders as more and more gunge flew at her. A final salvo arrived just as she was about to emerge from the enfilade. The throne's backrest consisted of only a single thin slat which provided zero protection, leaving Sarah to gasp, back arching, as slime burst between her shoulder blades and gushed downward.

Shaking with silent laughter, she finally trundled out of range, then on around a corner. Behind her she heard more splashes followed by a laughing scream from Louise, whose teammates had no-doubt decided to educate her on the perils of friendly fire.

No sooner had Sarah begun pawing at the oozing mess sliding down her bare midriff than she saw the nozzles on the next stretch of tunnel. There would be no respite. She tried to speak, but managed only a few bewildered sputters before the custard fusillade resumed. Emerging from seemingly everywhere, the weak squirts appeared to congregate as they flew, arriving like countless streamers which overlaid the seeping purple-orange muck and slimed yet more of her smooth skin.

Not much of her remained clean by the time the pod passed through the sprays, at which point it shuddered to a halt, rotated ninety degrees and then trundled backwards into a dark alcove. Dripping and bedraggled, Sarah murmured warily as she scanned her new surroundings. She was in a charcoal grey, vaguely industrial-looking chamber that was shaped like a bell jar, around ten feet wide and twice as tall, lit by a ring of dim neon lights that left the room's periphery swathed in shadow.

Coming to understand what awaited her, Sarah smiled grimly. Something's about to slime me. It's not a question of if, only how.

As though reading her thoughts, more lights flared into life, this time at floor level. Sarah gasped to find three women - a redhead, a brunette and a blonde - seemingly frozen in stasis within transparent plastic pods arrayed evenly around the room's circumference. It was Lisa, Kirsty and Melissa, the supposed scientists whose doomed experiment had kick-started the day's events. Their eyes were closed and they were doing a very good job of remaining completely motionless. All three wore white bikinis much like Sarah's, not that Sarah's looked particularly white anymore.

An extended, gong-like chime reverberated around the chamber, and in perfect unison the three scientists opened their eyes. A second chime coincided with the upper halves of the pods splitting open, slats of plastic retracting into the walls amid blasts of dry ice. The three remained impassive, though Kirsty's jaw tightened in an effort not to laugh. A third chime triggered a clatter of moving plastic as trays laden with pies emerged at wrist height inside each pod. With perfect synchronicity, the three women retrieved a pie and struck identical poses, the pies held at shoulder height.

"Not gonna lie, that was pretty cool," said Sarah, miming applause.

She'd said it jokily, but in truth was genuinely impressed; the three couldn't have had long to practice their timing. Accepting that she was utterly doomed, she found herself relaxing, the tension easing out of her shoulders as a gloopy river meandered down the centre of her back. Resisting the urge to protect herself, she made herself grip hold of the armrests as the throne began a slow rotation.

"Okay, this is the part where you splat me."

A final chime rang out, louder than the others, and at last the three scientists let fly. Sarah's mouth made a perfect 'O' shape as the first volley landed on and around her with a series of soft splats. Again and again the chair rotated, Sarah squealing and laughing as pies flew at her. Some were glancing blows that clipped her arm or shoulder and went spinning away amid flurries of creamy blobs. Others impacted softly, arriving like cool kisses on her torso before melting down her, gloopy detritus slipping down her flanks and piling up on the seat. Other hits were more forceful, arriving in gooey sunbursts that send globs flying in all directions. Trilling with delight, the three scientists slathered her mercilessly. Abandoning any attempt at staving off the barrage, Sarah raised her hands above her head. Cool cream tumbled deliciously down her back, congregating around her wiggling hips and spilling down her legs. It was like being at the centre of a snow-globe.

As it transpired, cream pies weren't exactly the guided missiles of the gunge world. Skittering, careening and disintegrating in mid-air, they made no distinction between friend and foe. The trio were hitting each other almost as much as they were Sarah.

The chair spun faster now. Still being continuously splattered, Sarah found herself practically dancing where she sat. Tipping back her head, sodden hair clinging to her shoulders, she let out a carefree whoop. The remnants of an especially gooey pie clung to the side of her head. Great gobbets of custard and whipped cream splashed off her breasts and flowed down into her lap, yet she made no attempt to deflect any of it. She couldn't shake the feeling that she fully deserved all this.

Amid the mayhem, a random thought arrived. Swiping at her face to clear her vision, she peeked around and waited for a momentary gap in the bombardment, while also enjoying the sight of her tormentors getting a taste of their own medicine. Each of them was already dappled yellow and white, and more pies still slid from the hatches to replace those that were thrown. If anything, new pies were arriving faster than they could be used, with the overflowing trays now spewing mess down the scientists' legs as they struggled to keep pace.

"So how come you're in bathing suits?" Sarah called, having to raise her voice to be heard.

Lisa chuckled ruefully. "Some genius decided to bet on whoever lost."

"Hah, seriously? Which of you did that? Wait, forget I asked. It was totally Kirsty."

Kirsty's incriminating giggle was all the confirmation Sarah needed. As if to emphasise the point, both Lisa and Melissa chose that moment to 'accidentally' splat their friend. Kirsty gaped in pretend-outrage as bursts of custard spread star-shaped splashes on her lower stomach and left cheek, leaving yellow smears through her chocolate-brown hair. Even so, Sarah realised, that didn't really answer her question. Could it have been another of Kirsty's tricks? Just then she noticed three grey pipes that coiled out from a large green cylinder set high on the wall. One pipe was suspended above each of the pods. Ahh, so that's it.

Another thought made her sit straight. "Wait, is everyone who bet on Jen going to get slimed?" Seeing Melissa nod bashfully, she bounced in her seat. "Awesome."

At just that moment a series of glugs ran through the pipes. The bespattered scientists froze, looking at each other, then screamed as pea-green torrents began raining down on them. Instead of a single concentrated spout, each pipe dispensed its gunge into multiple thinner streams that angled out like a half-open umbrella, leaving nowhere to hide.

The throne's rotations were slowing again. Revelling in the sight of her tormentors getting covered while still frantically trying to hurl pies at her, Sarah nodded happily.

"Ha-ha! That's what you get! Just so you know, in a way this is me sliming you right now."

As though in answer to her words, a similar green torrent rained down onto her, much to the others' delight. Sarah sputtered in shock as the falling slime slashed through the tufts of whipped cream clinging to her body, sending them flowing over her contours like melting icebergs.

As Sarah sat there, eyes closed, chuckling at her plight while gunge poured over her, she felt the throne stop turning, then reverse along its tracks. Sweeping wet hair behind her shoulders, she waved farewell to the scientists, who paused to wave back before immediately embarking on a pie-filled civil war, all while the pipes still drizzled green gunk over them.

Sarah wondered for a moment whether the throne might backtrack all the way to the main tunnel, but after only a few seconds it diverted again, sending her down another dingy tunnel. She used the reprieve to clear off the worst of the mess, starting around her eyes, then her hands and face, then skimming her legs and torso. The handfuls of gunk she flicked onto the floor created a trail like a boat's wake as the pod chuntered ever onward.

Hearing a pattering noise up ahead, Sarah looked up to find a partly see-through orange curtain covering the passage. She was about to resume her clean-up, but something made her take a second look.

Wait, that's no curtain.

Yelping, she tore through the translucent orange waterfall with a thick slurping noise that left gel-like ooze atop her head, shoulders and thighs, while wobbling strands of the stuff trailed from the front of her bikini top. There was no time to recover - no sooner had she clutched at her sopping hair than she found herself at the top-left corner of a gloomy, teardrop-shaped chamber, twelve feet across and over twice as long, that had been decked out like some cartoonish underground jungle, replete with iridescent plastic foliage and jagged outcroppings made of crudely painted foam board. The exit lay directly opposite, protected by another slimy curtain, but just as Sarah braced herself to go through, the carriage lurched right. Instead of taking the direct route, the tracks wound through the gallery in a horseshoe shape, the trail bordered on both sides by the alien plants. A layer of slowly-stirring mist lay at shin height across the chamber.

The throne slowed and halted just past the chamber's entrance, creating a slow-motion shockwave in the mist. Frantically wiping slimy hair back from her forehead, Sarah looked up and stared in astonishment. A series of huge gunge tanks covered almost the entire ceiling, all primed and waiting, and everywhere the scenery was rigged with pulsating, slime filled bulbs and nodules that seemed ready to pop. A gauntlet of slime awaited her.

So striking was the scenery that it was only a slight movement and the glint of metallic fabric to Sarah's right that made her realise she wasn't alone. Midway down the first length of the horseshoe, on the outside of the track, stood a beautiful woman with tanned skin and long, coffee-brown hair. It was Nikki, who smiled as soon as Sarah spotted her, teeth gleaming amid the murk while pale light glimmered on her blue bikini. Nikki was standing in a dark, cylindrical tub that reached almost to her waist. The tub itself was mottled like tree bark on the outside, pale and smooth on the inside, almost like a stretched-out coconut half, and suspended above her was a gunge-filled hopper. Returning the smile, Sarah noticed other bikini-clad figures amid the mist. Lena waited in an identical coconut tub at the inside of the horseshoe's base, while near the exit, directly opposite Nikki, lay a third tub in which Tasha stood fidgeting. A bright yellow balloon dangled on a string near each of them.

"Hey Sarah," sang Nikki. "Looking slimy! Just so you know, because I'd never, like, not tell people the rules or anything." She paused to wink at Tasha, who made a hmph noise and folded her arms, before continuing, "If you want to get back at us, smash those balloons as you go around."

Sarah could barely respond. Her mind was still grappling with just how messy her trip around this hall was going to be. Still, the prospect of bringing slime gushing down on her teammates was enough to make her focus.

Nervous laughter swept through the room as the tanks that shadowed the track began to glug, the downward-pointing chutes and sprinklers shivering as an immense amount of slime made ready to disgorge. Sarah felt her throne shake slightly before slowly inching a little further into the room. It felt oddly like being in an aircraft making ready for take-off.

With a resigned groan Sarah bowed her head, murmuring plaintively as the blare of sirens announced the first downpours. Slime began raining down along the route she was about to travel, emerging from curved, periscope-like spouts that spun slowly, each at slightly different speeds, to create an ever-shifting network of overlapping torrents.

"Oh you have to be kidding."

"You ready for this, Sarah?" called Lena, her voice eager. She and the others were still dry, but only barely - gooey spatters were already coating the outside of their booths.

With a giggling grimace, Sarah nodded, her eyes still fixed on the path before her. "Urgh. This is going to be super messy, isn't it?"

Again the escape pod began to slowly rotate. Sarah gulped and gripped tight to the chair, her mind a whirl of nervous exhilaration. This is it.

Hearing clicks from beneath Sarah's throne, Lena bobbed excitedly. "Get ready, girls, here comes the gunge!"

Amid cheers and squeals of anticipation, the spinning throne began to roll forward. Sarah half-laughed, half-screamed as she went under the slime showers.

Instantly everything devolved to mayhem. Thick green gunge rained down, splashing off the back of Sarah's neck to soak much of her hair and come flooding forward over her shoulders. She straightened, wiping back her hair, and was immediately hit by a second cascade that cast nets of glistening, indigo-coloured gunk over the left half of her body.

Arms lifting, Sarah cheered with helpless laughter as she spun through the maelstrom. There was nowhere to hide, no means of escape. She was going to get utterly obliterated. Gunge poured over her in wild, gloopy torrents, the colours forever shifting and overlapping as she moved from one tank's splatter zone to the next. It was like riding the teacups at a fairground, her chair spinning while the platform trundled along the track.

Pink gunk flew at her, seemingly from nowhere, to splat against her lower stomach and bikini bottoms. Startled, she tried to see where it had come from - not easy while being spun around - and realised that Nikki's booth was stocked with small, slime-filled paper bowls that the grinning brunette was now chucking at her.

As she came closer to Nikki the nearby overhead torrents became faster and more chaotic. One bonus, Sarah noted, was that the increased speed had widened the splatter radius. Now Nikki was getting messy, orange and sky-blue gunk draping melting crescents over her curves and streaking her long hair. If anything this seemed to galvanise Nikki, who let out a fun-filled yell and kept up her barrage.

Murmuring in surprise as custard splashed into the crook of her neck, Sarah remembered the balloon. It was almost in reach, but was being jerked unpredictably about by the falling torrents. As she went under it she reached up, still being showered in slime, and lunged at the bobbing sphere. Wet fingers brushed against it, but managed only to knock it sideways, its string dripping gooey threads. There was a moment of disappointment where it seemed that she'd missed her chance, but then she saw the balloon arcing forward in a semicircle and swinging back her way. With a quick grin at Nikki, she made ready to pounce, ooze sliding past her brow as she struggled to track a moving target while both in motion and spinning.

Yet more gunk was flying her way, the nodes on the plants and rocks now squirting her with whipped cream and pulses of watery purple slop as she passed by. Biting her lip, she battled to keep her focus. The balloon's course was about to intersect with her own. This would be her last chance to punish Nikki.

Her timing was flawless. As the balloon swung back she reached up and clapped her hands, popping it and sending a quick burst of lurid yellow slime over her front. For a second her expression froze in shock, eyes peeking down at the muck creeping down her chest, before sitting back and throwing her arms skyward.

"Oh yeah! Go team me!"

Doing the best approximation of a victory dance she could manage while seated, Sarah pointed jokily at Nikki as the escape pod swept past. Playing her part, Nikki pretended to bite her nails in fear before the gunge tank activated, dousing her in a lime green deluge that domed off her head, obscuring her entirely, before closing in, flowing over her contours like a second skin.

Sarah had little time to celebrate, however, as a flurry of orange globs bursting against her right side confirmed that she was now in range of Lena. Looking over, she giggled on seeing Lena already being spattered by the overhead tanks. Great green and pink globs rained into her dark hair or slid in slithering rivers down her dusky skin and leopard print swimwear, but still she rained gunk on Sarah with the carefree ease of a woman who knew she was getting soaked whatever happened.

The sensation of so much slime pouring over her was almost overwhelming, but once again Sarah clenched her jaw and tried to focus. The balloon for Lena's booth was in striking distance. This time she popped it at the first try, and even had time to duck her head before it burst, the resulting yellow spray painting the crown of her head.

Lena lifted her arms and gave a cheerful shriek as a green cascade swept down to envelop her.

Revelling in the mayhem, Sarah found herself waving her hands as though conducting an orchestra as the throne continued its ludicrous waltz. The splattering from above was relentless, a cornucopia of colours merging and slithering over her in great wobbling avalanches. Gunk-soaked hair hung in sodden rat-tails beside her face, a few strands clinging to her cheek. Her little bikini top was soaked, the fabric feeling more stuck to her chest than tied in place, and was practically buried beneath shifting layers of ooze. Angling an arm across her breasts, Sarah giggled on feeling syrupy rivulets come squeezing out of her top.

While Lena's silhouetted form writhed amid falling slime, Sarah was swept, cheering, around the apex of the bend. Now there was only Tasha to deal with. The voluptuous brunette looked completely baffled, her shoulders tense, her mouth hanging open as she realised what awaited her.

Sarah raised her voice above the ceaseless splattering. "Let me guess, Tasha, you weren't really - pah!" She paused, blowing globs away from her lips, as a smooth green plume spilled over her face before the throne rotated her out of it. "You weren't paying attention when they explained this. Am I right?"

Tasha cringed in embarrassment. "I knew there'd be slime, but this..." Eyes widening with sudden realisation, she moved her hands to her top. "Oh God. I picked the wrong outfit."

It was true, Tasha had once again chosen a costume that was gorgeous but impractical. Her hourglass figure was covered by only a red and black pinstripe bikini with a top that was both bandeau-style and a size too small for her.

Just then Tasha froze. As with the others, Sarah's approach had made the overhead sprayers more chaotic, and now a column of custard slapped against the left side of Tasha's head, flattening her light brown hair and arcing across her torso before splatting over her bikini bottoms and on down the inside of her right leg. No sooner had Tasha looked down at herself than a plume of smooth, orchid-pink slime struck the top of her forehead, flooded down her face, and then plunged into her cleavage, globs spinning like roiling surf in every direction. Straightaway Tasha yelped in alarm and moved her arms over her chest. Slime had gone flooding into the strapless bikini top, threatening to pull it down. Tasha's frantic squeezing sent pink slime splurging up between her breasts and then flowing forward over her arms, prompting a high-pitched squeak. She sighed with relief on stabilising the situation, only to then gasp as more gunge arrived, pelting her with alternating pink and yellow splashes.

Noticing Sarah guffawing, Tasha pointed accusingly while still clinging to her top, and then with a twinkle of mischief leapt into action. Hopping from one foot to the other, she tossed bowlfuls of muck at Sarah with one hand while holding her top in place with the other, getting hosed with gunge all the while.

Rolling through the surreal monsoon, Sarah found herself feeling oddly serene despite the chaos all around her. Relaxing in her chair, she let the mess pour down her in great pulsing waves. She was becoming well-versed in keeping her chin at an angle where most of the muck dripped past her brow, allowing her to enjoy the sights. Everything was a psychedelic whirl of shifting colours and textures, yet she found herself able to think calmly even as gunk spattered and slithered over every inch of her. Her eyes went to the balloon, then to Tasha. After a few quick mental calculations she made her move.

"Hey Tasha, heads up!"

Having managed to delicately pull out her top enough for the collected gunge to drain down her stomach, Tasha looked up from her wrangling just in time to see Sarah bat the balloon in her direction. Her mouth dropped open as it burst against her forehead, and for an instant it was as though she wore a glistening 'phantom of the opera' mask, the yellow ooze painting half her face. Her expression morphed to horrified realisation on hearing clicks from above. Quickly she grabbed hold of her bikini top with both hands, pinching the material beneath each armpit, and smiled grimly just as green gunge exploded above her.

Sarah watched, laughing and clapping, as the brunette froze in place, unable to defend herself from the shimmering green cascade. Her top bulged and overflowed, green slime pouring out as though from a breached dam, but just about remained in place.

Cheering, Sarah turned in her seat, catching as much of Tasha's comeuppance as she could, before the pod left the gallery, shooting through the second orange waterfall in the process. Head shaking in amused resignation, she slumped back, her left side now coated in the syrupy orange gloop. Again the track veered right, the pod shuddering as it changed direction, and almost immediately the sprays of custard resumed, spurting at random from the walls and shimmering as they tumbled through the air. Amidst it all a downpour of baby-blue sludge draped like a shawl around her shoulders, slurping over her bikini top and slithering down her stomach.

Everything was a kaleidoscope of shifting colours. Gunge lay everywhere; seeping through her hair, sliding down her back, slurping around her hips, gushing over her chest, dribbling down her legs. A myriad sensations assailed her: slick ooze, oily gunk, creamy sludge, the ticklish kiss of squirting foam; the wafting scents of strawberries, of cinnamon, of vanilla and honey; the sounds of sloshing and splattering mixed with her own laughter and the steady clatter of the travelling platform. It was hypnotic yet invigorating, soothing yet exhilarating. It made no sense, it defied all logic, and Sarah exulted in every moment of it.

She was so lost in daydreams that it took a few seconds to notice the figure skipping beside her.

"Hi, Sarah," sang Lucy. "Having fun?"

"Oh, so you're next." Sarah paused, considering the question. "You know what? Yeah, this is actually kinda funny."

Dimples appeared on Lucy's cheeks as she smiled sweetly. "I hoped you'd come around eventually."

Wiping her face, Sarah affected a sigh and propped herself on one elbow, leaning toward Lucy. "So this is basically the 'let's slime Sarah' parade, right? Everybody's gonna get me?"

Lucy's hazel eyes shone as she nodded. "Uh-huh."

Sarah groaned, then sat straighter. "Does that include Jen?" she asked, surprised by the eagerness in her voice.

"Oh, sorry, I don't think so. She's probably in the shower. She was still in that pit in the research place when the timer ran out."

"She was? What happened? Please tell me she got, like, super slimy."

Lucy's eyes glimmered. "No spoilers, but I reckon you're going to enjoy watching that clip."

"Hee-hee, cool. So come on then, what have you got for me?" She gestured to Lucy's t-shirt. "I'm guessing I don't get to slime you back."

There was a note of disappointment in Lucy's voice. "Afraid not, sorry."

"So, don't leave me in suspense. Look at me, things can't get any worse. Whatever it is, bring it on."

Humming innocently, Lucy went scampering on ahead of the slow-moving throne, coppery-brown hair fluttering as she went. Stopping at an upcoming turn in the tunnel, she halted, clamped a hand to her mouth in feigned shock, and then pointed down the unseen passage. "Oh no. Sarah, look! The tunnel's blocked."

Sarah raised an eyebrow. As the throne rounded the corner, she found that the way ahead was indeed barred... by a single strip of warning tape and a sign that read 'Wild Beast Ahead' - beyond which a small stuffed dog lay perched beside the track.

"Whoa! Terrifying. Lucy, you were right, there's no getting past that."

Trying not to giggle, Lucy continued the charade. "Don't worry, we'll find you a way round. This should do it." With that she strolled to where a lever stood beside a junction in the tracks. Placing both hands on it, she looked back at Sarah. "All you have to do is find the missing gears and slot them into place, then just turn the handle to open the way."

Sarah's brow furrowed. "Huh? What gears?"

"You'll see."

With a kittenish chuckle, Lucy tugged the lever. The tracks shifted, diverting a confused Sarah down a side-tunnel.

"Wait, what am I meant to..." The words evaporated on Sarah's tongue. The new tunnel angled a fraction downward. The escape pod was speeding up. Looking up, she froze, mouth agape, on seeing where it ended. "Oh you're kidding, you're not seriously going to - argh!"

Still gaining speed, the throne clattered down the shallow slope and was brought to an abrupt halt by a padded block set low to the ground. The impact was enough to catapult Sarah out of her seat... towards the paddling pool-sized pie that waited beyond. There was a momentary sensation of being in mid-air, a laughing scream escaping her lips as she realised what was about to happen, and then she belly-flopped into it, ploughing through layers of foamy whipped cream and into the custard below. The impact sent displaced foam surging across the floor. Squirming, her face buried in the muck, Sarah found her hands and knees sinking into a layer of heavy sludge that lurked beneath the custard. Aghast, she lifted herself into a kneeling position, her hands making slurping sounds as she wrenched them out of the sludge; they emerged coated in ragged gloves of lime-green ooze.

Shaking clouds of foam from her face, Sarah peered around, too taken aback to speak. From her kneeling position the clinging foam rose to halfway between her navel and bikini top, below which the custard lapped just below her hips, with the green sludge reaching to the upturned soles of her feet. As she slowly made sense of it all, she closed her eyes and tipped back her head, shaking with self-deprecating laughter. And I thought I couldn't get any more ridiculous.

"Good going, Sarah. You're getting the idea," chimed Lucy, who had appeared beside the paddling pool. She was struggling to get the words out without laughing.

"I am?"

Just then she noticed a plastic object touching her leg. Reaching a hand down into the gunk, she fished it out. It emerged trailing the thick green stuff, which fell in glutinous ropes back into the pie. Seeing Lucy urging her on, she wiped the thing off, and found herself holding a plastic gear the size of a hockey puck. Beginning to comprehend, she noticed that just beyond the pie lay a plastic panel with crude imitations of machinery at the left and right ends, between which lay four gear-shaped depressions. A hand-crank jutted from its right-hand side. Once all four gears were inserted, turning the handle would rotate them all and activate whatever it was the machine did.

Following the connected cables, it was only then that Sarah noticed the room beyond the paddling pool. She appeared to be in a small, eggshell-grey chamber, though the far walls were lost in shadow. There were two bright spotlights, one above the pie-pool and the other above a strange contraption a few yards away. Resembling a shrunk-down carnival float, it consisted of a wide dais, pale grey and topped by a plastic seat, around which lay an arsenal of sprayers and nozzles. Above it a wide, half-cylinder tip-tank waited ominously.

Remembering that Lucy was meant to be staying clean, Sarah pointed warily to the seat. "Don't tell me I'm going to end up on that, too?"

Now it was Lucy who looked confused. She waved for Sarah to stay still. "Erm, no. Hold on a second, there was meant to be..." As her words tailed off, she looked up to the watching cameras for guidance.

Just then footsteps approached. "Sorry we're late," announced Joanna, who suddenly appeared out of the shadows.

Straightaway Sarah grinned. Until now she'd only seen Jo in either her ghoul costume or in formal office wear, but now the slender blonde had her hair loose and was wearing only a canary yellow bikini. What was more, she was leading someone else by the hand, and a moment later Belle stepped into the light.

Lucy sighed in relief. "Phew. Good for you, Belle. I knew Jo would talk you round. What convinced you?"

"Bribery," Jo interjected. "It turns out that me offering to join her was enough of an incentive." Noticing Lucy's reaction, she smirked. "Thought you'd like that. Come on, Belle, let's do this."

Belle made a face, her expression a blend of nervous anticipation coupled with mild annoyance at having lost her bet. The willowy brunette was wearing a string bikini bearing a pattern of blue, turquoise and pink chevrons. Though she made a show of acting sullen, she allowed Jo to lead her to the carnival seat, where they squeezed in beside each other and peeked nervously up at the waiting gunge tank.

Realising that this was all going on while she was literally sat in a giant pie, Sarah shook her head in amused disbelief. The fairground music was beginning again, issuing from speakers high on the walls.

"Okay, Sarah," announced Lucy. "Now everyone's ready, it's over to you. Find those gears, turn that handle, and let's get those two seriously messy. On your marks, get set, go!"

For a moment Sarah just stared blankly. Then she looked at Jo and Belle, the commander of the ghouls and the woman who'd designed the gunge dispensing systems, and her lips curled into a determined smile.

"Haha, you two are getting slimed!"

Cool foam licked beneath her bikini top and custard slurped up over her thighs as she propelled herself on her knees through the pie, stretching forward to slam the first gear into the slot. Straightaway she turned and threw herself into the gunk, scrabbling around in search of the next one. Wriggling around on all fours, wobbling puffs of foam spilling in over her back while the others cheered her on, a strange sense of joy swept through her, as though weights were lifting from her mind. She'd noted that no time limit had been set. This wasn't so much a game as an excuse to get everyone messy. Splashing around in the gloop, she realised that at long last there was no pressure to win, no nerve-jangling tension while watching for the next attack, no ticking countdowns, no self-imposed expectation to look glamorous or dignified. Things were simple now.

With no more need to be competitive, Sarah paused, blinking. To hell with it. I want to get messy.

Rather than pick around on all-fours, with only her arms and legs in the pie's muckiest layers and the cool foam smearing her stomach, Sarah instead immersed herself in the gunk. Launching around in lunging motions, she let her body slide through the custard and green slime as her hands probed through the ooze.

Amid the confusion, she could dimly hear Jo and Belle bantering with the man in black, who was speaking to them through the intercom. Belle made a show of pouting, but couldn't disguise a playful smirk as she pointed and jeered, teasing the man who, they all knew, had the gunge controls at his fingertips.

Shivering with glee, Sarah thrashed and rolled, hands dredging through the green sludge while the pie wobbled around her. All the motion sent foam spilling from the paddling pool, but it was being topped up by slow blizzards that tumbled from overhead vents. Feeling her fingers grasp another gear, she sat upright and whooped, lifting it like a trophy before slithering back to the machine. Pausing to wipe her face, she sat up, lifted her free hand to her hair, and tittered on feeling a foamy cream pompadour atop her head.

"It must be hard to see anything in there," said Lucy. "Don't worry, I'll help."

Sarah felt gunge splash across her head. The pink muck flew into the pie around her, shredding the foam. She looked sideways to find Lucy holding a now-empty bucket.

Seeing the look Sarah was giving her, Lucy grinned and gestured to the motes of agitated foam now fluttering through the air. "See? I'm helping."

"Sure you are."

As the second gear clicked into place, Sarah plunged back into the mess. There was no denying it, she was enjoying this. Her blind fumbling was 'aided' now by occasional buckets of gunk that scythed through the foam - though this was clearly just a side-effect, as they were mainly directed at her.

Just then she heard Jo scream. Having just found the third gear, Sarah surfaced from the churned-up pie, wiped her face, and blinked her eyes open. Jo had just taken a bucket of bright pink slime to her right side, much to Belle's delight. As the stuff ran down her, dripping from her yellow bikini top and pooling in her lap, she looked questioningly at Lucy.

Though her eyes shone with mischief, Lucy's tone was all innocence. "Oops, I missed."

Placing her chin on Jo's shoulder, Belle whispered something that made the blonde smirk, but before Jo could respond a second splash, this time pale blue, flew from her right and erupted over her toned stomach. Lucy had struck again. Belle yelped, much of the gunk having splashed sideways across her lap.

While Jo chuckled at her partner, Lucy wrung her hands. "Oh no, it happened again."

Jo gave her a knowing look. "Wow, what are the chances?"

As Lucy danced away to rearm, Sarah clicked the third gear into position. Seeing this, Jo and Belle exchanged nervous glances, then peeked up at the waiting gunge tank. One more gear and the mechanism would be complete.

Surrendering to the insanity, Sarah let herself swan-dive backwards into the pie. Feeling the layers of muck shift as she sank through them was oddly satisfying. Staring upward, the foam layers rising like snow-capped hills at the edge of her vision, she took a moment to luxuriate in the sheer blissful idiocy, then rolled over and resumed her quest. All the while Lucy flitted about, retreating into the shadows to retrieve a bucket only to suddenly reappear and douse someone.

Wait, is that...?

Unable to resist a little theatricality, Sarah rose to a kneeling position and manoeuvred herself in front of the machine. In doing so her body acted as a sort of snowplough, great heaps of white foam gathering in front of her until it tickled her chin.

Up ahead, Jo was biting her lip, head shaking, as Lucy slowly tipped a bucket down the back of her neck. With a defeated sigh Jo lifted her hands to her hair, then back to her knees, as silky green rivers slid forward from her shoulders. Watching from beside her, Belle cackled with glee, clapped her hands together, and then sputtered in shock as Lucy let the last few blobs drizzle into Belle's tawny brown hair. Now it was Jo's turn to mock.

Still kneeling, Sarah caught Lucy's eye. "Psst, over here."

"Feeling left out, Sarah? We can fix that." Retrieving another bucket from the shadows, Lucy obligingly sent a welter of pink gunge crashing across Sarah's front. Having closed her eyes just before impact, Sarah kept them shut and listened. Any second now.

Sudden gasps from Jo and Belle were music to her ears. They've seen it. The pink slime had scattered the foam in front of her, revealing the final gear clasped in front of her stomach. Opening her eyes, Sarah made a show of brandishing it before setting it into the mechanism and grasping the handle.

"Here it comes," Jo whispered. She draped an arm around Belle, who grimaced and pressed in close to her.

Eyes agleam, Sarah cranked the handle. With each rotation lights illuminated behind Jo and Belle's seat, reaching like loading bars towards the tank. Blasts of dry ice issued from industrial vents to either side, accompanied by a whine of building pressure from the sprayers pointing toward the chair. Lucy rushed over, standing side-on to the seat to make sure she got a good view.

"Hope you two enjoyed eliminating everyone today," sang Sarah, still turning the handle, "because now it's payback time!"

The final lights flared. Amid blasts of vapour and the blaring of klaxons, Jo and Belle screamed as the half-cylinder jerked downward, drenching them in smooth green slime. Jo took it like a pro, leaning back in the chair and letting it engulf her, while Belle instinctively leaned forward to try and shield herself - only to recoil back into the downpour once the sprayers activated, sending foaming multicoloured jets splurging up onto her face and torso. The upward-slanting sprayers warred with the falling gunge, creating a flickering aurora around the two squirming women, who practically disappeared beneath the onslaught.

Noticing Lucy bouncing up and down, punching the air in excitement, Sarah waved at her. "Lucy, I'm sorry."

"Huh? For what?"

"This."

The thrown snowball of custard and whipped cream burst across the logo on Lucy's t-shirt. Almost immediately Jo joined in, flicking a handful of globs up Lucy's side. Squeaking, Lucy took it in good humour, just as Sarah knew she would, and came skipping up to her.

"Mission accomplished," she said, offering Sarah her hand. "Let's get you back to your seat."

Sarah protested but took Lucy's hand nonetheless. The cheery brunette dutifully helped her out of what remained of the pie and ushered her back to the throne, which had rotated to face back the way it had come. With her slimy feet fishtailing on the floor, Sarah leaned against Lucy for support, being sure to smear goo over the brunette's arm in the process. She was still raising jokey objections when she flopped back onto the throne, collected mess squelching around her bikini bottoms as she did so.

"Oh my God, how is this happening?" Fumbling for words, she peeked down at herself, then up at Lucy. "It's just so... messy."

Lucy grinned down at her. "And there's more to come." Stepping back, she flicked a switch on the wall. "Enjoy."

Feeling the escape pod begin to move, Sarah slumped back in her seat. There can't be much more. Who hasn't slimed me yet? Mentally she tried ticking off names, but quickly gave up. It was becoming difficult to think in her current state.

"So who's left?" she called back.

"Just Kelly and Liz, I think."

"Ooh - Kelly was cheering for Jen. I know what that means."

At the mention of Kelly's fate, Lucy tried and utterly failed to contain a smirk. "Guess you're about to find out," she said, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "Have fun."

While Lucy moved back to joke with Jo and Belle, who were sweeping back their soaked hair and staring around in astonishment while green dregs drizzled down on them, Sarah took a deep breath and focussed on the route ahead. Retracing its tracks, the throne turned back down the previously-blocked tunnel, which was now free of the warning tape and stuffed animal, and rolled onward.

Again Sarah smoothed back her hair and tried to wipe herself down, but at this point she was so utterly slimed that it didn't have much effect. Wiping at a spot above her armpit, she stared in fascination on seeing her finger smudge through at least three distinct layers. Feeling a slight jolt, she looked up to see the throne about to turn a corner. In the chaos she'd completely lost her sense of direction. Settling back, she took a few deep breaths. Things were strangely quiet now, the only sound the throne's steady trundling, mixed with her own breathing and the melody of liquid dripping from her body and coursing over the seat's edge. She could practically hear her own heartbeat.

The pod rounded the corner. Sarah tensed, only to find herself in another long grey tunnel lit by a series of skylights. Through them she noticed the dome's glass canopy sweeping downward. She was almost at the edge. Aside from this, the passage's only feature seemed to be that the tracks divided a short way before the end. One set veered off to the right, into another tunnel, while the other continued to a dead end near the far wall.

Sarah shrugged and resumed cleaning herself. Just then she froze. A crack had appeared at the tunnel's end. She watched as it widened, the wall parting to reveal two women sat on a wide seat within a plastic structure that resembled an open-fronted bus shelter. The one on the left had wavy brown hair that cascaded down her back and wore only a daring silver bikini on her voluptuous form. The other woman was noticeably taller and almost as curvy, a fact that her pink bikini made sure to show off, and had neatly parted ash-blonde hair down to her chin. Kelly and Liz.

Leaning forward, Sarah's breath caught. Not only were the two of them sat in a gunge tank - she counted a row of four separate reservoirs poised overhead, blue to yellow to green to pink - but there was a strange bulky sprayer mounted in front of each of them. Sarah had a moment of awful realisation.

Gloopers.

She had vivid memories of using one of those things to devastate a ghoul attack outside the research station... while being sure to hose down Jen at the same time. Now she was going to be on the receiving end.

"Why hello there," called Liz. She gestured to the gloopers. "Look what we found."

Oh no. Realising she was almost in range, Sarah quickly checked the knots of her bikini and then shifted in her seat, unsure of what posture to take. Resisting the urge to shield herself, she instead gripped hold of the armrests and set her shoulders back.

"You see what's above you?" she retorted. Liz and Kelly glanced nervously upward. "That's right. None of us are getting out of this clean. Do your worst."

With a carefree yell Kelly fired her glooper, sending jade-coloured slime streaking down the tunnel. Sarah tensed, her nose crinkling, then heard a splash on the floor ahead. The slime had fallen short, but not by much. Sarah found herself emitting a quavering groan as the throne rolled toward the splash mark. She could see Kelly and Liz waiting to fire. Clenching her jaw, she made herself face her attackers, though dipped her chin a fraction to avoid the risk of slime squirting into her nose.

After what I did to all those ghouls, I guess I deserve this.

She shivered as green and yellow gunge came lancing down the passage. Instead of pressurised blasts, they were using the gentler setting that sent out slime in slower, sloppier arcs. Custard splurged over her right hip, spreading undulating tidemarks out over her thighs and midriff. A moment later the green spout impacted just beneath her navel and flicked upward. Fast as a thunderclap, pulsing torrents were gushing into her lap while stray blobs leapt up to spatter her chest, a few squirts creeping up into her cleavage and drooling lazily from her top.

It was an effort to keep her mouth shut. The spouts were moving around now, the custard painting a slow zig-zag on her torso while the green stuff slid up between her breasts to douse her forehead and send gunge flooding down over her face. Reduced to squirming on the spot, her toes wiggled in the slick puddle that had congregated around them. Locks of saturated hair became swept up in the sprays and went fluttering out behind her. It was like facing into a monsoon.

Pinned back by the sheer weight of gunge flying her way, Sarah released the armrests and covered her face with her hands, peeking through latticed fingers to try and make out what was going on. She squealed and wriggled as the pod drew closer, the blasts growing more intense the closer she came. Laughing rapturously, Kelly and Liz angled the gloopers, the lotion-smooth spouts gliding over Sarah's figure. As she approached point blank range they angled the beams into one another, causing them to shatter into an immense swirling surge. Squirming amid the torrents, Sarah came through it all, plastered in gunge, and felt the beams move sideways across her upper arms until they shot past her altogether.

With Liz and Kelly sounding close now, she made a gap in her fingers. A quick peek confirmed that she was almost at the track's end, and also that the gloopers had a limited firing arc, to the point where she was now so close that the spouts couldn't target her properly, able onto to catch her arms and flanks. This was the moment she'd been waiting for.

With a yell she thrust her outstretched palms into the slime blasts, sending them deflecting in all directions - including back the way they'd come.

Now it was Kelly and Liz who shrank back, green and yellow gunk casting glistening webs over them both. Straightaway Kelly was back at her glooper, laughing happily amid the splattering. Liz, by contrast, took longer to recover, at first trying to swat the incoming mess away. Suddenly though, Liz tensed, as though she'd had an idea. Leaning towards her glooper, she cupped her hand beside the nozzle and used it to bounce the stream back onto Sarah.

Sarah reeled back with a laughing scream as custard doused her stomach and flooded into the overflowing puddle in her lap, but soon moved her hand to try and deflect this new angle of attack. A literal arms race developed, the three women waving frantically in an effort to splash each other. Slime flew in slick flurries, sparing nobody. Amid the confusion, and despite the wet hair hanging in front of her face, Sarah noticed that the pod had stopped at a padded barrier at the track's end, and that a series of bulbs were now illuminating behind Liz and Kelly. Sarah grinned wickedly on realising what was coming.

The lights reached the gunge tank. A siren blared. Sarah lifted her arms in the air, whooping in triumph as the gunge from the gloopers dwindled to nothing. Liz and Kelly looked pensively at each other, then up at the waiting tanks.

Yet nothing happened. Slowly Sarah's cheers faded. Frowning, she folded her arms. "Why isn't it working? Has it broken?"

As if from nowhere, a figure wearing a slightly stained t-shirt and shorts appeared at the tank's left side. "Not to worry," said Lucy.

A second, similarly attired figure appeared from the right. "We'll take it from here," added Annabelle.

Seeing the excited looks from the tank's occupants, Sarah soon grasped what was going on. With the throne slowly starting to reverse, the two newcomers approached levers that jutted from each side of the tank.

"Hmm, what do you think, Lucy, should we gunge them?" asked Annabelle.

Milking the moment, Lucy pretended to ponder. "Hmm, I don't know. What do you think, Kelly? Should I pull this lever?"

Already giggling, Kelly clapped her hands together. "Haha, I didn't get dressed up for nothing. Gunge me!"

Annabelle looked questioningly to Liz, her brown eyes glinting roguishly. Meeting Annabelle's gaze, Liz tried to look calm, but soon began fidgeting, nibbling her lip as she adjusted her top and fussed with her hair. Biting back a nervous titter, she nodded.

"Here goes, then," said Annabelle. "Three, two, one, go!"

The levers shifted with rattling clanks. In the tank Liz tensed and bowed her head, while Kelly held out her hands as though meditating and smiled at Lucy... but again nothing happened.

"Awww," said Kelly, sounding disappointed.

Sarah blew air between her teeth. "Don't tell me it really is broken?"

Lucy tilted her head to glance at Annabelle. Straightaway Sarah noticed the looks on their faces. They're up to something.

"Oh yeah," said Lucy, clicking her fingers as though remembering something. "Didn't Jo say we had to flick the safety catches first?"

Annabelle clapped a hand to her forehead. "Of course," she replied, keeping up the charade. "Then I guess we know what to do. Ready?"

Lucy glanced at the somewhat perplexed Kelly and Liz, then back to Annabelle. "Ready."

With that they stepped back, nodded to each other, and then peeled off their shorts and t-shirts to reveal swimwear underneath. Lucy, it turned out, was wearing a silver bikini identical to Kelly's, while Annabelle's was chocolate brown and had straps that went over her shoulders. Amid murmurs of amused surprise from the others, they stepped up to the tank.

"Come on, budge up," Lucy chirped as she squeezed onto the seat between Kelly and Liz. As Kelly pressed up alongside her, fussing with Lucy's hair and beaming with anticipation, Lucy reached up to a catch beneath the row of gunge tanks.

Meanwhile, perhaps because there was no more room on the seat, or perhaps because she was too short to reach otherwise, Annabelle sat herself down sideways across Liz's lap. Liz curled an arm around Annabelle's waist to draw her into a hug while the brunette reached up to a second switch. With the levers still in the 'on' position, they all knew what would happen once the catches were released.

"You're really doing this?" whispered Liz, seemingly mystified.

Grinning, Annabelle placed her right arm around Liz's shoulders. "What, you think we'd let you have all the fun?" She glanced to her left. "Ready?" Seeing both Lucy and Kelly nod emphatically, she peeked back. "Want to give us a countdown, Sarah?"

"Hah! With pleasure. Three. Two...." She added a devilish pause, watching the doomed women squirm in anticipation. "One. Bring on the slime!"

Amid squeaks of laughter, Lucy and Annabelle looked at their respective victim and released the catches. The row of gunge tanks disgorged in vivid eruptions of colour. Sarah clapped and cheered as the four women writhed in a multicoloured cascade. The sheer quantity of gunge was astonishing - already a huge puddle was spreading out around the tank, yet there seemed no end to the stuff. Kelly was mostly under the blue and yellow spouts, though despite the colossal downpour was still making sure to smear handfuls of muck over Lucy, who had the yellow torrent pouring on her right shoulder and the green on her left. Twitching tendrils streamed from Lucy's no-longer-silver bikini top where she shook with laughter. To the right, Liz and Annabelle were getting doused in green and pink gunge. Liz was spluttering in mock-outrage, with Sarah getting the distinct impression that she was playing it up because she knew Annabelle found it funny. With gunk pouring in waves down her face, Liz shook her head in an attempt to clear her vision. On seeing Annabelle laughing at her plight, she grinned evilly and shifted so that the brunette's head went directly under the pink spout.

With the pod having retreated back to the junction. Sarah gave a start on feeling the throne rotate ninety degrees to the right. "So long," she called back to the others. "Enjoy the slime. I'm guessing it has to run out at some point?"

The mucky quartet waved back, then screamed as the sprays somehow intensified. Chuckling, Sarah found herself rolling on into the next tunnel, leaning back in her chair to watch for as long as she could. The flows of gunge were only just beginning to ebb when she at last left the passage behind.

The next tunnel was short. Feeling a hint of breeze, Sarah held out a hand, watching slimy threads ooze between her fingers. She pressed a hand to her chest, just above her heart, and felt her fingertips press through layered slime before reaching the warm smoothness of her skin.

Almost immediately the pod made one final turn, and suddenly there was daylight right in front of her. Still trembling with mirth, slime slithering all over her, Sarah peered warily about. She was back in the white tunnel she'd started in, a suspicion confirmed by a quick backwards glance, and was only a few yards from the exit.

Yes! Finally I can celebrate properly.

Lifting her arms in triumph, she found herself in brilliant sunlight. She was outside. Blinking until her eyes adjusted, she watched as the glare faded, allowing details of the outside world to fall into focus. A silhouetted figure in a white bathrobe stood waiting at a control panel. At first she thought it must be Jen, but as she drew nearer it became clear that this person was taller and had shorter hair.

Pity Jen couldn't join in with sliming me. I guess she's still crawling out of that pit.

At last the escape pod came to rest. Looking around, she found herself in a sturdy wooden pavilion at the edge of a fragrant orchard. Stretching to left and right, the Splatter Dome curled away into the distance.

The woman at the control panel turned out to be Joanna, who had given herself a quick hose down and thrown a bathrobe over her yellow bikini in a vain attempt at looking official again. Sarah noticed a green smear lingering beneath her ear. Clearly she'd been in a rush.

"So how was the ride?" asked Joanna. "You're the first person to ever experience it in a real game."

Sarah patted her hands atop her thighs, the action sending spots of goo spurting outward. "Wow! That was.... Wow. I am, like, unimaginably messy right now."

"You know what? I believe you. Did you enjoy it?"

"Hah. Absolutely." Still on a high from her victory, she peered around. "Great... I feel great." She gestured down to the slime-streaked escape pod. "Am I okay to stand up now?"

Joanna raised a finger. "One sec. You can get up, but stay in front of the chair. We should probably get you a little more presentable before you go anywhere." Once Sarah had peeled herself from the messy seat, Joanna tugged on a nearby dangling chain.

"What does that-?" began Sarah, but a cascade of cool water cut her off. The pod had come to rest beneath a large spout, from which crystal clear water now flowed.

While Sarah scrubbed at herself, she was dimly aware of the silver-haired matron ambling up to the pavilion. She noticed the older woman glance at her, trying and failing to hide her utter incomprehension as to why Sarah would allow herself to get into such a state.

Shaking her head, the matron approached Jo. "Alright then... wait, what was it? Oh yes. I'm meant to tell you that they'll need a few more minutes. It's all a bit of a shambles back there. I dread to think what the cleaning crews are going to say."

Jo nodded politely. "Got it, thanks."

"Why they had me come all this way just for that, I don't know," the older woman grumbled. "Will you be wanting a cup of tea?"

"Um, yes, not just yet, but a little later."

"Suit yourself." The matron, or whatever her job title was, raised an eyebrow as Sarah's skimpy bikini became visible, the layers of slime slowly washing away. "Honestly," she muttered, "the things you girls wear these days."

Sarah and Jo exchanged amused grins as the matron wandered off, before Joanna turned back to the control panel to let Sarah finish washing. As the matron bumbled away, though, Sarah saw her look back and mouth a single word before heading off.

"Run."

The flow of water was dwindling now. Eyes narrowing, Sarah began wringing out her hair while scanning her surroundings. That was when she saw it.

"Ahem."

Jo looked up from the controls to find Sarah scowling, her arms folded. "What's wrong?"

"I'm on to you."

There was a slight pause. Jo cleared her throat. "Erm... what do you mean?"

"You're not done with me yet. There's one last thing." She pointed ahead, where the tracks continued on, curling to the left before disappearing back down into the dome's substructure. "That's not there for decoration."

Jo fluttered her eyelashes, made as if to play innocent, but then changed her mind. "Okay, yeah... technically the game's done, you've escaped Aurelius VII... but yes, there might be something else. It's usually a kind of closing-off ceremony we do at the end of an event, but this is the first time anyone's actually won. To be honest it might be too much after what we've just done to you. We want people to leave happy. It's fine, we can skip that part."

"Will Jen be there?"

The question caught Jo off guard. Before she could answer, though, Sarah spoke again. "Actually, don't tell me. Whatever it is, I want it to be a surprise."

Jo looked taken aback. "You mean you'll do it?"

"Maybe, but on a few conditions."

"Conditions?"

"Yep. They need a little more time, right?" She waited for Jo to nod, then began listing her demands on her fingers. "In that case I want to get dry, I want to fix my hair, and I want a new bathing suit. Then we finish this. Does that give you enough time to set up whatever this is?"

"It should, yes."

"Then we have a deal?"

Jo paused, studying her, then slowly nodded. "We have a deal."

"Cool. There's just one last tiny thing...."

*****

Thick pink blobs still pattered atop Annabelle's head. Each time a few piled up they would slip down the side of her face and spill into her cleavage. She was still on Liz's lap, and from her perch had a great view of Liz, Lucy and Kelly all sat in a row, wide-eyed, panting with exhilaration, and completely covered in gunge. The tank's back and side panels were similarly obscured, as was the seat, where overflowing gunk flowed down into the huge multicoloured puddle spread out in front of them.

Squeezing her close until Annabelle's right cheek touched Liz's face, the blonde looked at her with bewildered gratitude. "I can't believe you did that."

"Nor can I. Hope you didn't mind us gate-crashing," Annabelle replied with a wink.

"Yeah, how dare you," joked Kelly, who was busy scooping up handfuls of slime and letting them drizzle over Lucy's head.

Overall, Annabelle decided, this had been an unusual day. After all that had happened, both she and Lucy had agreed that it felt wrong to gunge the others while staying clean themselves. It had been Lucy's idea to begin with, as Annabelle had discovered when she'd been asked to help find another silver bikini to match Kelly's, but she'd soon asked to join in. The look on Liz's face had been priceless, and after all their playful tit-for-tat rivalry it had felt somehow nice to be gunged while hugging each other.

Nobody seemed in any hurry to get up, content instead to wallow in the gooey aftermath. After a few minutes of them chatting and joking with each other, though, Joanna suddenly appeared from the side passage to their left. "Sorry to interrupt," she said, speaking rapidly, "but something's coming up that you won't want to miss."

To Be Continued....