The Story So Far: The game nears its conclusion. No team has ever won, but the three remaining contestants have made it to the final stage, with one last barrier between them and freedom. One of them, however, has a secret. Having made a deal to avoid elimination provided she's the last woman standing, Liz has been playing a game of divide and conquer, and has recently made a pact with Lisa, the last of the scientists, to finish her remaining teammates once and for all.

Note: You may be pleased to know that the end is in sight. There are three stories to go: one more regular chapter, the finale (which might need to be split up if it exceeds the maximum word count) and then, at last, an epilogue - which ended up being longer than most chapters, but technically takes place after the game has concluded.

Part 16: Reckoning

All was set. The man in black stood watchfully, ranks of glaring monitors casting a greenish tint to his aquiline features. Around him the control room had fallen to pensive silence. Satisfied that all that could be done, had been done, he turned to the tawny-haired young woman to his right.

"Do it."

There was a predatory gleam in Belle's eyes as she lifted the phone, barking orders even before the receiver reached her ear. The man's gaze lingered affectionately on her. Pretty and fresh-faced though she was, Belle had the instincts of a hardened assassin when it came to dropping gunge on people. They'd met at university, along with Joanna, who led the Gunge Ghouls, and had set up this venture a few years after graduating. It had taken each of their respective talents - Jo's showmanship, Belle's technical wizardry, his vision... not to mention financial assets - to bring this place to fruition. Hearing the dull rumble of chugging pistons and groaning pumps, he nodded proudly. It had begun. Each event they ran was different, special in its own way, but this, today... this would be their masterpiece.

Slowly the Splatter Dome geared up for the final act. Valves hissed. Sluice gates opened and closed. Everywhere the nightmare of plumbing that suffused the arena rattled and shuddered, delicate balances of pressure and flow realigning to channel gunk from dormant areas. North it flowed, from the pyramid in its nest of plastic jungle, from the bakery, from the grey tower rising amid the labyrinth. On it went, through the shambolic palace, through murky catacombs and slanted tunnels, past the wolf-faced gargoyle, the purifier, the vault, the egg chamber - and into daylight, into pipes above and below the sun-dappled glade, then the yard with its now-silent gunge cannons, until finally it reached its destination: The outpost, that cluster of domed buildings at the arena's far side, beyond which loomed a squid-like being of Cyclopean proportions. Though woefully unconvincing, the monstrosity served its purpose well enough. It was a silo, a vast collecting point for the converging gloop. The grasping tentacles ensnaring the facility doubled as chutes, turning the whole complex into one colossal gunge tank, and the countdown had already begun.

Nobody beat the Splatter Dome. Nobody. The handful of contestants who'd made it this far were already doomed... they simply didn't know it yet.

*****

Gunged but happy, Jen swept her slime-thickened hair behind her shoulders and knelt higher, palms resting atop her thighs while translucent drips slid from her chin and elbows. Syrupy and slow moving, tinged green, pink and yellow, the gunk channelled through her top and rolled on down the inbound curves of her sides. Dressed in nothing but a pink bikini, she felt every flux and skitter, every minute change of course. Textures warred and blended, all striving for dominance in the ever-marching mess.

The floor itself seethed around her. Congealing goo carpeted the circular living quarters like skin on old custard, broken by occasional blobs from the now-dormant nodes studding the ceiling.

Nearby, Sarah bubbled with excitement. "Did you see it?" she enthused. "Did you? I got them!"

"Haha, you sure did."

Jen could scarcely believe it herself. She'd just witnessed Sarah's demolition of what remained of the Gunge Ghouls. The last two had scurried away, their defeated comrades stumbling in tow. Even better, as far as Jen was concerned, was that Sarah had gotten well and truly splattered this time. The blonde stood now beneath the central skylight, hair glistening green and pink as she bobbed about, fists bunching in triumph even as slime slid uncontested over her slender but feminine form.

Jen beamed at the sight. She hadn't seen her friend look so carefree in a long time. That she'd convinced Sarah to take part in this game had been a coup in itself, to have coaxed her down to a bikini was nothing short of a miracle. The costumes hadn't actually been part of the plan - Jen had assumed they'd be kitted out in boiler suits and shower caps - but she'd come to view them as part of the fun. There was a certain giddy thrill to facing the mess with almost nothing to protect her.

Noticing Jen's amusement, Sarah made a show of wringing her hands and flicking back her hair. Clearly eager to change the subject, Sarah gestured toward the pumping room, into which Liz and Lena had disappeared once the ghouls broke in. "Nice of them to help," she remarked. She paused, frowning, on hearing the commotion coming from behind the door. "And what's with the noise? What's going on in there?"

Jen clambered to her feet. "Don't tell me you didn't see it?" she said, idly skimming handfuls of goo from her arms. "Not even after that stuff with the gloopers? They're sliming each other in there, I'd bet you anything."

Lucky them, Jen added to herself. She longed for the chance to do the same to Sarah, but her companion would never agree to it; she was still too jittery. As she drew near the pumping room, however, Jen's brow furrowed. There's way more than two people in there.

Curious, she padded forward. A quick tap of a keypad sent the door sliding open with a soft hiss, revealing a short, cylindrical tunnel to the next chamber. From ahead came sounds of splashing and laughter.

Wait, those voices...

Suddenly a figure appeared.

*****

Frustration boiled within Sarah. Things were hanging together by a thread. Keeping Jen in line was trouble enough, but now Liz and Lena had apparently gone off the rails, too? Was she the only sane one left? Sure, she'd messed some people up along the way. Let's see, there was Jen, and then... Jen... and... mostly Jen, come to think of it. But at least she'd had the decency to formulate some half-baked excuse. Sliming each other simply for the hell of it, though? That was different.

Casting surreptitious glances toward the door to the escape pod, she backed stealthily away. Jen wanted to slime her, that was no secret, and they'd spent most of the contest together, gallons of gloop within easy reach. It was only a matter of time before temptation got the better of her.

Wait, Jen's posture had changed. Something had startled her. Scampering footsteps approached, but Jen relaxed again almost immediately. "Hey, Tasha, you had me worried. For a second I thought... uh, what's with the outfit?"

Tasha? But she was eliminated way back. Realisation arrived like a thunderbolt. "Seal the door!"

Jen had worked it out at the exact same instant. No sooner had the transparent panel slid back into place than a blast of green gunk thumped against it, making Jen flinch. Undeterred, Tasha stalked back and forth on the other side, grinning wickedly and brandishing her sprayers.

For the umpteenth time that day, Sarah shook her head at the sheer lunacy of it all. "Okay, Jen, just so I'm clear: Someone you knew to be eliminated runs at you in a ghoul suit, and that didn't strike you as odd?"

"It... I mean... I wasn't expecting it, that's all." Jen was reeling, that was plain. In truth so was Sarah, though she wouldn't dream of admitting it. Now even their former teammates were out to get them.

Arms folding, Sarah drew herself up, a suitably scathing jibe already prepared, but was interrupted by the blare of sirens. Oh no. Overhead glugs made her hunch, a ragged scream hissing from her lips. It's not fair.

The sirens stopped. A voice spoke. What it said sent Sarah's mind spinning.

"Data upload successful. Mission accomplished."

Could it be? Had they done it? Nerves jangling, she looked back, and in a flash was leaping for joy. A green light shone on the keypad beside the western bulkhead. It was unlocked.

"We did it! We've won! We've actually won!"

Though usually the more excitable of the pair, Jen's response was altogether more reserved. Looking more puzzled than anything, she peered cautiously about. "What about that other girl?"

"Huh? What other girl?"

"Y'know, the other Australian. The redhead."

For a moment Sarah paused. Of the three supposed scientists they'd been sent to rescue, two had since popped up as villains. Melissa had blocked their exit from the gatehouse, Kirsty had bedevilled them right through the palace, but of the third, Lisa, they'd so far heard only a disembodied voice.

Slowly she nodded. "Right, her. Wait, didn't she spend, like, the whole intro trying to stay clean? Smart girl. Guess she's sitting this one out."

"Perhaps," Jen replied, sounding unconvinced.

Sarah shrugged. "Whatever. Let's just get out of here."

"What about the others?"

Already strutting toward the exit, Sarah didn't even look back. "They'll just have to take their chances," she said, almost as an afterthought. On reaching the hatch she paused, took a deep breath, and tapped the release button.

Locks clicked. Bolts slid back. A motor's whirr began the opening mechanism - but then with a sound like a gunshot the bolts snapped back. The hatch was shut fast. What the hell?

Speakers crackled. "Warning," droned an electronic voice. "Warning. Door controls suspended. Contaminating organism present. Station substructure compromised."

Sarah glared. She'd been ready for triumph or disaster, but not for this, not for nothing. Her frustration boiled over. "Come on!" she yelled, pounding on the bulkhead. "We've done everything you wanted! We've beaten every trap, we've cracked every one of your stupid little puzzles, now let us out! We've won, you hear me? We've beaten you! Don't you get it? I've beaten you!"

"Beg to differ."

All was baffled silence. The cut-glass tones had come from behind them, each syllable lovingly articulated. "Is that who I think it is?" Jen whispered.

Mind racing, Sarah turned. A tall, long-legged and unmistakeably female figure stood in partial silhouette at the south-east doorway, her hands resting against the doorframe.

Such beauty was almost breathtaking. Sleek flaxen hair shone in the midsummer glow, framing an oval face with crystal blue eyes and a chin that seemed always to be at an aloof angle. A wet sheen glistened upon smooth, golden-tanned skin belonging to a figure both toned and curvaceous - a point emphasised by a trippy little bikini, its pink hues darkened by wetness into vivid fuchsias and violets, offset by a sixties-style pattern of black arcs which might've formed hoops had the material not been so skimpily cut.

Liz.

I should've known.

*****

Over in the pumping room, judgement was about to be passed. Louise watched it all with baffled amusement. Most of the eliminated contestants were gathered here, and all were dressed as ghouls. The mission had started well enough; they'd eliminated Lena and come close to catching Liz, but things had since gone rapidly downhill. With the door sealed, they'd been marooned in this cramped chamber.

Of course, they could probably have used the arena's network of secret doors to get back into the game, but that would require effort, and quite frankly nobody could be bothered. Instead it had been decided that Tasha, whose hastiness had gotten them into this situation, should face the consequences.

The tribunal had lasted barely thirty seconds, and now Tasha, her protests having withered in the face of her accusers' gleeful grins, was struggling her way out of her ghoul suit. Louise wanted to blush on her behalf. Surely she knows what a spectacle she's making of herself? The voluptuous brunette had peeled the wetsuit down to her navel, revealing nothing but a black string bikini underneath, and was now clutching the material and bouncing up and down in an effort to work the wetsuit past her hips. Louise didn't doubt that any man watching would be rendered spellbound, but Tasha didn't seem remotely concerned.

In all honesty, Louise reflected, she wore something very similar under her own outfit. They all did, though unlike some people, she had no intention of showing hers off any time soon. Wearing such things to the beach was one thing, wearing them to be hosed with slime quite another.

It had been a hell of a day. After starting the game a jittery wreck, she'd been unofficially adopted by Tasha and Nikki - ironic really, seeing as the two Americans were a couple of years her junior. Nikki, as it turned out, had been setting them both up from the outset, but had done so with such an infectious sense of fun that it was impossible to hold it against her. In fact, after seeing what had befallen some of the others, Louise counted herself lucky to have been among the first eliminated.

With the wetsuit discarded, Tasha rolled her shoulders and arranged the parting of her light brown hair, which reached almost to the straining triangles of her bikini top. Having dozed through the entire pre-game briefing and zoned-out whenever someone tried to explain the plot to her, Tasha had spent the whole day with virtually no idea what was going on.

Feeling Nikki's hand at her shoulder, Tasha grinned and closed her eyes. "Really, guys, we don't need to do this. We could-"

"No we couldn't," chimed Nikki. "Come on, you know what happens now."

Pouting, Tasha let herself be guided to the slime-filled pool bordering the monolithic pump. The gramophone-like funnel was dormant now, but its legacy remained - a lurid concoction, greenish blue with dashes of pink, sloshed right up to the pool's brim.

Hands lifting to her mouth, Tasha glanced back over her shoulder. "Are you for real? I mean, you really expect me to-?"

As one, the others nodded.

Louise watched avidly, torn between sympathy and a sense of eager anticipation for what came next. Lifting one tanned leg, Tasha grimaced as her toe touched the pool's surface. "Ewww!"

With the others urging her on, Tasha shook her head, grinned in disbelief, and dipped her leg in. The thigh-deep mire claimed it with a wet slurp. Stepping forward, Tasha wobbled a little, arms swaying for balance, and then brought in the other leg. At last she turned to face her accusers. Her resigned half-smile gave the distinct impression that she was humouring a bunch of crazy people.

"Seriously, there's no need to-"

But the others were already crowding round. Wide-eyed, Tasha's only half-serious pleas grew comically frantic as a row of sprayers were brought to bear. Feeling a little bit like Spider-man, Louise curled her fingers toward the pressure pad triggers at her palms. She had to admit it, she was looking forward to this.

Trying her best to sound solemn, Holly began reciting the list of charges. "Tasha, after a totally fair and not-at-all mockery of a trial, you've been found guilty of insubordination, revealing secrets to the enemy, littering, being unnecessarily pretty, not buying your round last night-"

"It was a free bar!"

"No excuses. Where was I? Um, impersonating a Gunge Ghoul-"

Tasha pointed incredulously to what everyone else was wearing. "But-"

"Zip it. And lastly, um, oversleeping or something. Okay, get ready for sentencing!"

Still babbling excuses, Tasha lifted her arms slowly above her head. "But, ha-ha, but wait, shouldn't we at least-"

"Girls, you know what to do. Fire!"

Messy justice commenced. Everyone fired in unison, liquid snakes leaping from their arms, to leave poor Tasha shrieking and writhing on the spot, hissing jets splattering all over her. The pool's thickness made dodging impossible, leaving her defenceless before the surreal firing squad. Shifting from one hip to the other, Tasha peered down at herself, chest heaving with appalled giggles as gooey sashes dribbled over her curves.

Chuckling, Louise managed to angle her spouts so that they collided just in front of her target. The resulting airburst sent custard globs splurging all over Tasha's stomach, making her hunch over with a high-pitched murmur.

Despite all her thrashing about, Tasha's eyes soon shone with exhilaration. Bands of colour painted her body. Buffeting sprays set the knots of her bikini bottoms dancing, while great slithering waves rolled over her contours. Seeping tassels trailed from her arms as she swatted uselessly at the hurtling muck. There was no stopping it.

Her entire front was awash now, but the gunge kept coming. A well-aimed burst from Nikki sent tangerine ooze shooting up Tasha's flank, where it left squiggled blobs along her neck and cheek before jetting into her hair. No sooner had she turned away from this onslaught than Ellie sent a creamy green spout gliding up her midriff. Gunge splurged everywhere as it moved on up, slathering her cleavage and then bursting across her face. Eyes closed, Tasha could only wobble about, arms rising and falling like a marionette.

Upon seeing Holly's signal, Louise reluctantly released her triggers and skipped to the control panel on the far wall. Finding one switch already lit in readiness, she grinned, flicked it, and straightaway spun back to the pool. She didn't want to miss a second of this.

With a roaring gurgle the funnel activated. Green slime crashed atop Tasha's head, its force sending her sliding off her feet and down into the sludge. Gasping, she squirmed about on hands and knees, slimy hair dangling around her face as emerald slop engulfed her back. Rows of gooey tendrils dripped from her torso, their gelatinous strings feeding into the sloshing pool.

One by one the contestants ceased fire. The downpour was ebbing, though green blobs still pattered against Tasha's back as she sat up, wiped her mouth, and gave them all an accusing stare.

"Looking good!" called Holly. "Gunge suits you."

Smirking, Tasha answered by swishing a hand through the pool, flicking globs in Holly's direction. As the cheery blonde skipped back, spots of colour blossoming on her costume, Louise noticed something else from the corner of her eye.

Nikki was looking right at her, eyes glinting with mischief as she began unzipping her wetsuit. What's she... oh God, no!

"Okay, Louise," announced Nikki. "Our turn next. Me against you. C'mon, in you get."

*****

Meanwhile, at the station's hub, all was proceeding perfectly. Ignoring her companions' stares, Liz braced herself against the doorframe and stretched contentedly, enjoying the sun's warmth on her back. It felt good to be clean again. Lisa had shown her to an opulent backstage wash room, where she'd had just enough time for a proper pampering. Liz was no narcissist... at least not usually... but looking her best always boosted her confidence. Given that she wasn't exactly humble at the best of times, that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Jen and Sarah's looks were tinged with suspicion. Rightly so, Liz reflected, though she made sure to keep her expression all angelic innocence. She and Lisa had this all planned out. Precisely on cue, gentle waterfalls began descending from the hub's ceiling.

As expected, the lure of a shower proved irresistible. While the garish muck that defaced the walls and floor gradually faded, Jen stepped gratefully into the falling spray. Sarah hesitated, observing, then followed suit. Ah, Sarah, always the clever one. Why take a risk when Jen can do it for you? Hah, that won't help you now.

The warm water did its work. Jen scooped her chestnut hair over her face, scrubbing out the last of the goo, and then flicked it back amidst flurries of sparkling droplets. Beside her, Sarah pawed a stubborn blob from her stomach before discreetly adjusting her top, letting the water sweep through. It was rare for Liz to encounter someone whose fashion sense equalled her own. Despite being given only minutes to pick an outfit, the one she'd chosen - a white two-piece with a sprinkling of silvery pink dots - was perfectly cut.

The sprays came to an abrupt end, leaving drains at the chamber's edge to filter the murky puddles away. Soon the floor blazed white once again. All was going to plan. With the ground prepared, Liz padded silently inside, blue eyes twinkling.

"There are towels right behind you," she said. "Help yourselves."

At first the pair stood motionless, unwilling to let Liz out of their sight, but curiosity soon made them peek back. An alcove had opened on the dome's north-west side, revealing stacks of enticingly fluffy white towels. The two contestants exchanged a questioning glance before studying her once more. Liz smiled sweetly, her stance relaxed and open.

Come on, trust me.

It was clear neither of them did, but that was no surprise. Still, they weren't about to pass up a chance to get dry. Backing away, eyes still fixed on Liz, they commenced drying themselves.

Yes, that's it, exactly where we need you.

"So," began Sarah. The word hung stark and solitary. It was obvious what needed to be addressed, but for now everyone wanted to watch and wait. Liz remained demurely silent. Each second she bought was precious.

Ever direct, it was Jen who broke the deadlock. "Hey Liz." She gestured to the pumping room, crawling as it was with friends-turned-foes. "How'd you get out of that one?"

"I got lucky."

"And Lena?"

"Didn't."

Sarah was studying every nuance of Liz's expression. "Yet you managed to get out - without using the door - got cleaned up, did your hair, then found your way back, all without being noticed?"

Ignoring the sarcastic undertones, Liz smiled again. "Why yes, yes I did."

Her teammates shared another glance. They know. Liz's long legs carried her two strides forward, to a barely perceptible dip in the floor, one she never would've spotted had Lisa not directed her to it. When the time was right, a panel would flip open on this very spot, revealing a pedal that, when pressed, would leave a certain part of this room somewhat unstable.

Despite all evidence to the contrary, nothing in the Splatter Dome was random. Everything served a purpose, however byzantine... even something as trivial as the placement of a few towels.

Sarah plainly sensed something was amiss, but hadn't yet decided what to do. "We can't open the escape pod," she admitted, towelling her hair. "Something about contamination."

Liz moaned. "Oh dear." Too much - that's blown it. No matter, they know anyway. And they know I know they know. Does that even make sense? Whatever. It's show time.

The contestants' stances shifted, their suspicions confirmed. The Splatter Dome had come full circle. Again three besieged women stood in the outpost, one not quite all she appeared. Feeling vibrations stir beneath her feet, Liz allowed herself a smirk. The arcane machinery that riddled this place's substructure was gearing up. Somewhere the man in black was watching and waiting, a finger poised over a single scarlet button.

Come on, now's the time. Do it.

Sarah kept her voice perfectly even. "Anything you want to tell us, Liz?"

It was all too perfect. Power thrummed beneath her. She felt herself standing taller, more imposing - majestic, even. It was close now, so very close. An echoing clank caught her companions off guard. The external doors had thudded shut, leaving no escape. Liz didn't so much as flinch. Confidence flowed through her as she spoke, headsman and jester combined, pronouncing doom with a smile and a wink.

"Sarah, Sarah, poor little Sarah. You did so well. You came so far. A shame it has to end here."

Jen gasped. "You're another traitor!"

Sarah shot her friend a sardonic glare. "Thanks, Jen. So glad you're here to point these things out."

Feigning annoyance, Liz shifted her stance onto one hip, folded her arms beneath her breasts, and glowered. "Do you mind? This is my big villain moment. I'm trying to monologue here."

"Sorry," replied Jen. "Gotta respect a monologue. Go on, give us the big traitor speech."

As a sonorous rumble announced liquid sluicing through the walls, Liz graced her victims with an exquisite smile. "Hmm... traitor. Such a horrid word. I prefer the term realist. Surely you've worked it out by now? Nobody beats this place. There's only one way to come out on top: join the winning team." Seeing the others quail before her, she chuckled. "It's almost amusing, really, all that effort only to end up here, in the biggest gunge tank of all!"

Responding to her words, colour ignited within the mass of transparent tubes encrusting the scenery. Within seconds they stood in a dancing dreamscape, hypnotic colours swirling in every direction. Yes, yes! It's about to happen. Time to crank up the theatrics.

Like a high priestess addressing her acolytes, Liz flung up her arms. "Game over, ladies! No bargains. No prisoners. No mercy." Amid the crackle of opening sluices, she dropped her voice to a stage whisper. "I hope you know a good dry cleaner, you'll need one after this."

Jen and Sarah cowered in each other's arms. This was it. All Liz's efforts, her triumphs, her indignities, had built to this moment. "Here it comes. Any-"

With a nervous giggle, Jen held tight to Sarah. Win or lose, she was enjoying every moment of this.

"Second-"

Sarah stared in horror, her eyes like saucers.

"Now!"

The floor opened, exactly where Lisa said it would.

Only it kept on opening.

Come on, how big does a pedal need to be?

Hmmm?

The ground buckled, and then dissolved beneath her feet.

Oh.

All was motion. An instant of panic, a sensation of being in mid-air, and then thick strips of rubbery material, much like pool noodles, were clamping about her thighs, propelling her upwards. Jerked about, Liz came to rest a foot or so higher than she'd previously stood, but still her feet kicked into nothingness. Blowing hair away from her face, she looked down and at first didn't know what she was seeing. A strange, blubbery mass had blistered up through the collapsing floor, rubber jaws closing like some carnivorous plant around her legs.

"Wh-what's going on?

Startled but untouched, Jen and Sarah stood gawking. Ignoring them, Liz twisted in an effort to free herself, but then froze, heart hammering, on noticing something at the edge of her vision. On the reverse of that huge wobbling molehill were two paper plates, each painted to resemble crude eyes. Horror rose within her.

The intercom clicked. In her bewilderment, Liz didn't immediately recognise a tinnier version of her own voice. "What was that big thing at the end?" it said.

"Oh, you mean our big-budget showstopper?" a man's voice replied.

"No, I mean Jabba the Hutt's deformed cousin."

Realisation arrived, a single awful moment of ice-cold clarity. The recording was a snippet from the pre-game briefing, one she'd prayed the organisers had forgotten, when in a moment of madness she'd mocked the farcical blob monster. Now it had come for her. The amorphous mass had burst face-first through the floor, sending her legs sinking into the pit meant to represent its mouth. Frantically she tried to wiggle free, only to whimper as shockingly cold foam touched the soles of her feet. Sloshing sounds resonated beneath her. The mouth was filling.

Looking up, she waved frantically to whoever might be watching. "No, wait! You can't do this!"

Already yoghurt-like gunk was collecting around her ankles. Her struggles amounted to little more than paddling in the stuff. Desperately Liz looked for the watching cameras. "Stop, there's been a mistake. I'm on your side! Lisa, tell them to stop!"

No answer came. Still the slime rose. Nozzles whispered within that hideous maw, wrapping oily vines around her calves. Ugh, this can't be happening. Hearing her teammates' relieved giggles, she reached imploringly to them. "Come on, quick - help me out!"

Sarah gave her a quizzical look. "Liz, we may be pretty, but we're not stupid."

Liz's indignant gasp rose to a squeak as electric blue slime frothed upward, tickling the backs of her thighs before streaking her bikini bottoms. Shock turned to defiance. No, I'm not losing now. Not after all this. Jaw clenched, she wormed a foot through the ooze, seeking to wedge it into the corner of that preposterous mouth. If she could just get a foothold, she might be able to lever herself out, but this proved easier said than done. Cool sludge slurped around her shins now, and the more she struggled the deeper she slid. Suddenly another barrage jetted upward, and with a shudder she leaned back, arms flapping, as melting mauve petals unfurled around her waist.

After some frantic squirming, Liz managed to perch her bottom on the blob's lip. Phew. No sooner had she caught her breath, however, than the quivering hulk jolted higher, the floor scrunching around it. Suddenly it was juddering like a washing machine, bouncing her up and down, forward and back in an effort to shake her loose. Liz's indignant yell became tinged with laughter as she was tossed about, gooey bursts painting dribbling crescents on her hips and midriff. It was like riding a bucking bronco.

Noticing the cheers and playful wolf-whistles, Liz became suddenly aware of the amount of wobbling going on. Blushing, she lifted an arm to her chest.

By now her legs were utterly drenched, but the blob wanted more. Suddenly the jolting ceased, and again its flytrap jaws jerked open, letting her hips slurp into the slime-storm before clamping shut again.

Foamy tendrils bubbled around her lower back as Liz stared, mystified. Her teammates' rapturous laughter rang accusingly in her ears. She kicked as though treading water, but the reality was that only those rubbery lips kept her from sliding deeper into the goo. She felt like the cork in a shaken champagne bottle. Ticklish barrages assailed her legs. Hissing jets tore through blizzards of gelid froth, its touch like melted marshmallow, while rising yoghurt slopped as far as her knees. All her wriggling had no effect.

"This can't happen!" she wailed. "It's not right!"

Sarah, who in Liz's view was enjoying this far too much, had circled for a better view. "Now Liz," she said, feigning concern, "I'm no expert, but this might get kinda messy for you."

Liz could barely speak. Her whole body trembled as she began to comprehend what awaited her. "Oh, you think?" she managed through ragged gasps.

Sarah nodded. "Call it intuition. No sense struggling, by the way, it's totally got you. But feel free to scream some more, it'll make it funnier."

"Ugh. You - you should talk! You should see what they've got plan- Argh!" Again that artificial mouth gulped, absorbing a few more inches of slime-slick skin. In up to her navel now, Liz murmured wordlessly and thrust her hands against the lower mandible, trying to hold herself out of the slop. Lurid slime seethed past the thing's lips, coating her forearms and slipping between her fingers, making her grip ever more precarious.

Around her the blob quivered and twitched. Another gulp was on its way. Grimacing, Liz shifted her weight onto her arms. Again the mouth gaped. For a moment she thought the ruse might work, but then syrupy blue geysers surged upward, streaking her stomach before splattering against her breasts. Defenceless, she was reduced to tossing her head, nose crinkling with ticklish giggles as slimy blasts splashed outward, some squirming through her cleavage to speckle her chin and lips. The resulting lapse in concentration sent her sinking still further.

It was almost a relief when those rubber jaws closed again. Leaning back, Liz wiped strings of seeping stalactites from her bikini, blew flecks from her lips, and pointed accusingly at where she thought the cameras might be.

"Lisa, you set me up!"

Laughter bubbled through the intercom. "Sorry," came Lisa's voice. "It's not my fault. The plan's been, uh, changed a little."

With foamy gloop dancing like unfurling petals around her, Liz shook her head in disbelief. "Then change it back! Switch it off. Do something!"

"Sorry, Liz. No can do," Lisa replied wistfully. "Think of it this way - we're the bad guys, right? We've got standards of villainy to live up to."

A blast of pressurised orange goo jetted up Liz's left side, painting the side of her breast before splattering against her jaw. The impact sent milkshake-smooth gunk surging up her cheek and through her hair. "Eww-eww-eww! So what am I supposed to do?"

Lisa tittered guiltily. "Enjoy the gunge."

Liz began a retort, but then something made her glance down. A solitary green blob had blossomed upon her right clavicle. She watched, confused, as it curled languidly downward. I'm half covered in the stuff, why'd I notice one little speck? Then it hit her. Because that one little speck didn't come from the blob.

"Oh come on!" she pleaded. "Surely you wouldn't-"

The words evaporated amid a shower of jade spatters. It was weak, barely a trickle, but it scattered as it fell, arriving in showers of glistening droplets.

Liz tried shaking the stuff out of her hair, but it was hopeless. Sighing, she lifted her hands in a surrender pose. She wasn't getting out of this one. Inch by perfect inch she was being drawn down into the slime-pit.

On noticing Jen and Sarah hi-fiving each other, Liz extended a finger to scold them, but was interrupted by a flurry of pink gunk spurting up her stomach. Despite squirming in shock, even she found herself chuckling when she pictured what she must look like. Even worse, this was all being filmed. My God, when my friends see this...

Cringing with giggled embarrassment, Liz relaxed her shoulders. Resigned to her fate, her thrashing became more for effect than anything. "Impossible!" she said with a giggle. "They can't do this to me, I'm far too important!"

Still she sank. Ascending spurts rebounded like unfurling wings from her shoulder blades, while from above the green drizzle matted her hair and sent fingers of goo slipping down her face. From everywhere came sensations of flowing slime, drooling over her curves, gliding down her legs, pouring in slick rivers along the groove of her spine.

Sarah ventured closer, her expression a blend of awe and satisfaction. Liz wanted desperately to crack some witticism, yet could muster only a few syllables before devolving into more giggles. The accompanying shudders sent her slithering deeper, until her bosom rested only millimetres from the blob's frothing mandibles.

Wiggling on the spot, her wet hands sliding around on the puppet's ridiculous jaw, Liz looked at Sarah and gestured desperately for aid. "Wait - wait. Sarah, I can help you. I have information. Help me and I can..."

Sarah was unmoved. Hands on hips, she studied Liz with curious amusement. When she spoke, her voice was soft yet edged with ice. "What was it you said before, Liz? Oh yeah, I remember." Sarah's lips curled into a wicked grin. "No bargains... no prisoners... no mercy."

Another gulp made Liz scream in shock. Jerked back and forth, wet streamers trailing like melting ribbons from her body, she struggled to hold on amid the ceaseless splattering. With a wide-eyed moan she watched her slimy bikini top sink into the whirlwind. In up to her armpits now, she pressed her hands against the blob's lip, endeavouring to prop herself out a little longer. Each wriggle triggered a fresh pulse of mess, but she had no intention of going down without a fight. Above, the falling trickle developed into emerald rivulets which streamed down her forehead, forcing her to bow her head to keep her eyes open.

Her audience greeted the blob's every slurp with ironic cheers and gusts of mirth, until at last Liz's chin touched its slime-slick jaw. Undignified though it was, Liz felt herself start to relax. This was actually rather fun, and - in all honesty - she knew she fully deserved it.

"Laugh all you want," she panted, "just remember it'll be your turn soon."

Jen gave her a wink. "Maybe, but right now it's yours, and that's what matters."

Gunge encased Liz from the neck down. A polluted lilac pool rippled around her waist, endless sprays of slime and foam swept around her torso and surged through her hair, yet she wasn't yet beaten. Who do these people think they're dealing with? I'll show them!

Curling her right leg, she wedged a foot into the corner of the blob's mouth, set her back against the inside, and pried the jaws fractionally apart. Finding purchase, she pushed back with her arms and, like a climber ascending a crevasse, scrambled upward.

Wresting her shoulders out of the slop with a ladylike grunt, she eyed the others. "Hah, did you really think it'd be that easy?"

Spurred by her teammates' sudden uncertainty, Liz wiggled on up. I can do this. Green slime poured in serpentine flows, forcing her to shake drooling tendrils away from her face, but she refused to be distracted. A quick shimmy liberated half her torso, her breasts spilling free, and then slowly her midriff reappeared, wet and glistening. A little further and she'd be able to angle sideways and clamber out. Then it's payback time.

The slush around her knees churned violently. Wait, had something just touched her leg? How many service tunnels and slime chutes riddled this place? Within the blob there was a sound like a zip being pulled back, then a slight tremble. Something was moving down there.

Sarah had noticed it, too. Standing side-on to Liz, she stepped as close as she dared and peered into the messy conflagration. Whatever she saw evidently pleased her. "Hey Liz, you believe in karma?"

"What? Why, what is it?"

"You'll see."

Suddenly Liz's foothold was yanked away. Someone was in there with her. Yelping in shock, palms splayed against the thing's jaws as her legs dangled in the goo, she swayed precariously but held on. What the hell? Baffled, she peeked down.

A mess-streaked face gazed up from inside the blob's mouth. It was Annabelle.

Liz's mouth fell open. "You? But... oh no! No, no wait! Please, you can't!"

Slowly, carefully, Annabelle stood. Spurting gunge drenched her utterly, yet she seemed hardly to notice. The green shower was gaining in strength, wet ribbons streaking Liz's head and shoulders before disappearing into the maelstrom below. Annabelle stood at her full height now, though that still only brought her to Liz's chin. Emerald spatters dotted the brunette's upturned face, yet she scarcely batted an eyelid. Brown eyes twinkled mischievously.

"Wh-what do you want?" squeaked Liz, though she had a horrible inkling what the answer might be.

Annabelle said nothing. Instead a smile spread slowly across her features. Liz tried desperately to concentrate - something of a challenge given her situation. She'd fall if she let go, but hanging on left her powerless against the slippery ooze pouring down her figure.

She looked imploringly to Annabelle. "Wait, we can talk about this. If you help me-"

Annabelle's hug left Liz keening with tittered outrage. Only now did she realise the brunette wore a ghoul suit. Orange gunk splurged from it, slathering her front, bubbling through her cleavage and leaving flame-shaped splashes on her cheeks. It smelled of honey yet flowed like custard, and there was no stopping it. Instinctively Liz looked up, only to end up with a face-full of the falling green stuff. Those same instincts screamed for her to let go of the blob and prise Annabelle off, but she knew what would happen if she did. The blob's mouth had become one big vat of slime.

With an ironic battle cry, Annabelle jumped. Liz made a feeble attempt to twist away, but already Annabelle had gripped her shoulders and wrapped her legs around Liz's thighs. Now Liz was supporting both their weights. Her hands began to slip.

No, it's not fair! Fingers scrabbling for purchase, she tossed her head. "Annabelle, please, we can make a deal...."

The words trailed off. It was useless. Annabelle's delicate little face shone with satisfaction. Gunge didn't bother her. Rewards wouldn't sate her. She was here for one thing and one thing alone - to see Liz slimed.

Suspended in mid-air, Liz writhed amid glutinous sprays. She couldn't hold on much longer. In desperation she bobbed her shoulders, trying to shake Annabelle off. The resulting unseemly jiggles left Annabelle and the others guffawing, but the pint-sized brunette clung on like a limpet.

While Liz babbled pleadingly, the green shower rose to a flickering pillar that engulfed them both. Hair plastered to her neck, curves awash with gunk, Liz closed her eyes and realised she was beaten. All her plotting, all her struggles, and it had ended like this... And yet, at the back of her mind, it felt somehow right that Annabelle, the woman who'd first fractured her chains, the woman she'd sent sliding into a nest of ghouls, should be the one to finish her.

Sighing, she leaned her head out of the downpour, leaving Annabelle's upturned face only inches from her own. "You know," she said, affecting her most indignant frown, "there's only one good thing about this."

At last Annabelle spoke. "And what's that?"

In a flash the scowl became a grin. "I get to take you with me."

Not even Liz was quite sure whether she slipped or let go, but suddenly her hands were yanking Annabelle's ripcord as they fell, still struggling, into the churning morass. Annabelle's costume went supernova the instant before they landed, turning Liz's celebratory cheer into a piercing shriek. And then the vat swallowed them.

Chaos reigned. Viscous currents swirled and coiled. Slurping waves lapped against her collarbones. Foaming snowstorms coated her face. Every sense reeled, yet she found herself screaming with laughter. She felt gunged, she felt humbled, she felt... free.

*****

"Liz has been eliminated," droned the intercom.

Sarah watched the upturned blob sink slowly into the pit. Mirthful yelps descended with it, Liz and Annabelle still sliming each other. Sarah tried to imagine what it must be like for them, squirming about in all that ooze, but when the image came it was her and Jen splashing about in there, drenching one another as though nothing else mattered. The thought made her want to shudder and smirk at the same time.

The hum of whatever mechanism lowered the blob finally halted. A muffled exchange sounded beneath them, followed by slurps of displaced liquid, and then faint footfalls squelched down an underground passage as Liz and Annabelle made their way backstage.

"And then there were two," Jen purred.

Suddenly anxious, Sarah glared at her teammate. "And what do you mean by that?"

Jen smiled but said nothing.

It occurred to Sarah that her hand was tracing the diagonal string of her bikini. Why the hell did I agree to wear this? It wasn't that she had any particular hang-ups about her body - she knew, without arrogance, that she had nothing to be ashamed of in that regard. She just hated looking foolish. She'd always tried to maintain a certain image, a certain mystique. Scampering about in a bathing suit while people squirted gloop at her wasn't exactly what she had in mind, even if it was for charity.

Still, for now she was unsullied and unbeaten. The best way to avoid being a bad loser, in Sarah's opinion, was never to lose. Whatever they've got planned for me, I'll beat it. Simple as that.

Then a noise began that sent chills down her back. In the pit, something stirred.

To Be Continued....