Catch up on Part 1 here: https://umd.net/stories/the-wall-of-shame-a-what-would-you-do-g

SCENE 4: THE PIE FIGHT
"We're here on What Would You Do, and we've had a VERY entertaining day. We have three teams vying for a brand new car, and two of them have not had very good days. Britt, what was it like getting an entire cake thrown in your face?

"I hate it, ughhh!!" she snaps.

Marc spots the chunk atop her head and picks it off, saying, "Yeah, you got a little thing right anyway. Danny, having fun yet?"

"No, not really."

Marc puts his hand gently on Danny's right shoulder and smirks at him. "You know, right as we were going to break, I noticed you staring. Care to tell us what you were staring at?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Guys," he says as he looks directly into the camera. "Can you help me out?"

The monitors in the studio cut to a replay of Marc high-fiving Taylor and Eric. In the background, clear as day, Danny is staring directly at Megan's boobs in her skimpy bralette. His leggings do nothing to hide his growing erection.

The crowd groans in pity. He's been caught.

"Now that is some incriminating evidence, Danny. You know what happens when you lie to me like that?"

He nods no.

"Robin, give Megan a pie please."

The crowd rises to their feet, their camera phones out once more. Danny looks away in disbelief as an excited Megan happily takes the pie and approaches someone she fully believes is a pervert. A grown adult leering at a college kid? Grow up, dude.

"Alright, Megan. On the count of three, let Danny know what you think of him!"

ONE! TWO! THREE!

BLAM!! She grits her teeth, places her left hand on Danny's shoulder and fucks him up. Banana cream splatters all over his upper half. Danny's nose feels like it got shoved back into his brain. Megan grinds the pie up and down before spiking it to the ground at his feet, where it makes a loud clatter.

"That's what you get, Danny! While you think about what you've done, let me introduce Round 3, the final round of our epic game on this epic Season 2 premiere. And this one is simple."

Marc gestures at multiple carts of pies that have been brought out on stage. Taylor and Eric, you've managed to stay mostly clean, but that's probably going to change. This last game is like a slow-motion pie fight coupled with quick draws from old cowboy movies.

"All the guys will stand in a triangle formation facing each other a few feet apart. You'll each have two pies, one in each hand. When I say go, you can choose to throw the pies at either of your opponents. You can throw your pies at any time, but remember that you are also a target. Either of your opponents can return fire directly at you.

"Eric, your team has 13 points. Danny, you have 8. Sam, you have 6. For every pie thrown in your face, regardless of who throws it, you lose two points. Every time you get hit in the chest or the crotch, you lose 1 point. Anywhere else on your body, you don't lose any points. And you obviously don't lose anything if a pie misses you altogether.

"So you can dodge anything you see coming your way, but be careful. Because if you happen to drop one of your own pies, you'll also lose one point.

"When all of your pies are used up, we'll give you two more. Then we'll switch, and the women will face off.

"Whoever has the most points wins the game and the car! And if you happen to come in last, well, let's just say we have some special prizes prepared for you

"So let's put the guys in place and have ourselves a pie fight!"

The audience cheers in anticipation. Danny, Mark, and Sam stand in a triangle, a few feet away from each other. They each cock their arms at each other menacingly, in the most ridiculous Mexican standoff ever aired on television.

Marc counts them in. "Good luck, gentlemen. On your mark! Get set! Goooo!"

Nothing happens at first. Each man silently strategizes, one eye on one opponent and one on the other. To have a chance at the car, Sam (6 points) and Danny (8 points) both have to take down Eric (13 points), but to avoid the mega-punishment, Sam just has to take out Danny. Meanwhile, in second place, Danny is Eric's most serious threat.

The tension rises with the boys' heartbeats. Danny attempts to silently communicate with Sam to form an alliance. Eric catches Danny not looking, and in an instant, he fires a pie at Danny's face.

Danny senses something in his peripheral vision and turns. His last second head turn proves fatal. The pie slams square in his face, depositing butterscotch pudding, whipped cream and crust all over him and raining pie remnants on his exposed upper body.

He's momentarily stunned and obviously unable to see, which gives both Eric and Sam an opening. Eric launches his second pie and Danny his first. Eric's aim is once again perfect, the pie tin banging hard against Danny's face, causing him to stagger as blueberry pie filling and cream add to the carnage quickly piling up on his face.

Sam is slightly less accurate. He doesn't put enough force on it, but with Danny blinded, he doesn't see it anyway. It flies through the air and bangs against his chest, coating his bare upper half with vanilla pudding and more whipped cream.

The hit to Danny's chest felt particularly surprising. He moves his right hand in a too-late attempt to block a pie that had already hit him. As his right hand goes to block, he fumbles a pie, which falls to the ground with a splat.

Britt yelps in anguish, a reaction to what befell her teammate. In quick succession, Danny has lost 6 points and is down to one pie. Sam also has one, and Eric has none.

At this point, he recognizes that his hopes of the car are probably gone and that he merely has to avoid earning himself and Britt the mega-punishment. Still unable to see, he takes a wild shot and tosses his pie in Sam's general direction. Bad goes to worse as the pie sails between Eric and Sam, a threat to neither, clattering to the floor beyond both of them.

Sam knows he has the last pie and knows that both targets are watching him, but his priority is the car. He figures that he probably can't score a direct hit on Eric's face, so he aims at Eric's crotch. No longer held back by any pies, Eric drops his hands to his groin just in time to block it. His arms are messy, and some splatter ended up on his shorts, but not enough to count as a hit.

"Let's load 'em up with another round, guys!"

Stagehands bring out more pies. The priorities have shifted. Now newlywed Eric needs to keep frat boy Sam at bay, Sam wants to catch Eric, and yoga pants Danny needs to take down Sam to get out of last.

With Eric's hands now full and unable to block another pie, Sam fires at him again and this time scores a direct hit. The pie explodes all over Eric's clean face, blowing back his glorious locks and sending gobs of cream tumbling down his shirt. As in the last round, the first pie to the face unleashes chaos. Sam tries again and scores another direct hit on Eric's face, but takes his eye off Danny, who fires his first pie at Sam and connects, smothering his face and hair with chocolate pudding and cream. With no shirt on, pie mess slides down his bare muscular chest and leaves trails down his six-pack.

Wanting to send a message, Danny forgoes the extra point for a hit to the face and chucks his second pie directly at Sam's crotch. Stunned by the hit to his face and down to just his underwear, Sam never sees it coming. It explodes with a loud thunk, showering Sam's groin with blueberry slop and cream.

Sam keels over in reaction to the hit, creating an opportunity for Eric, who sends both of his pies downward with all of his might. They hit Sam hard. The first collides with the top of his head, and when he looks up to see where it came from, Eric clobbers him with the second. Cherries and blueberries rain down on Sam's body, which is now smothered in cream from head to crotch. Out of the six pies in the round, he took four of them. None of the guys could do the math, but it seemed clear that Eric had this pretty well wrapped up.

"What carnage," Marc exclaimed. "I had no idea you guys disliked each other so much!"

"Ladies, it's your turn, let's circle up!"

The men step to the side and Megan, Britt, and Taylor take their places. They stand in what they think are the proper marks, though it's hard to see with pie remnants all over the place.

It's clear Marc won't tell them the scores right now, but they all try frantically to do the math as they get loaded up with pies. They cock their right arms and look at each other nervously.

[Narrator's note: But you can know the scores. Right now, newlyweds Taylor and Eric have 9 points, volunteers Britt and Danny have 2, and the Cornell students Megan and Sam are in last with -1.]

Taylor tries to break the tension. "This is like the Hunger Games, just without the death!" The joke lands like a wet fart. After Taylor brutally caked her, Britt is in no mood to laugh.

"Good luck, ladies. On your mark! Get set! Gooooo!"

Sorority girl Megan correctly guesses that after Sam's performance, she's back in third place and needs to take out Britt the runner. Britt guesses that Megan is somewhere in her vicinity on points. And the Jokey McJokester newlywed Taylor knows she just has to avoid a collapse to earn a magnificent honeymoon gift.

When the guys switched with the girls, Britt failed to think tactically about picking the right spot. As it turns out, she's in Sam's old spot, where several pies had just rained down where she now stands.

Britt takes a step to get in a throwing position, but her bare right foot slips on some pie and she falters. Taylor and Megan take full advantage. Poor Britt never saw it coming. As she tried to get to her feet, she looked up to see two pies flying right at her face.

With only enough time just to close her eyes and hope for the best, Britt freezes and takes the hits in rapid succession. BAM-BAM. She screams loudly as they bang against her face, showering her in banana cream, cherries, and whipped cream. Pie filling slides down her chest, some of it taking refuge in her sports bra, which is well on its way to ruin.

Britt gets to her feet, but with pie and cake all over her face, she knows she's screwed. She tries to turn her back on her opponents, but can't do it in time.

Taylor and Megan launch their second pies at Britt's vulnerable body. Taylor connects with another hit to Britt's face, leading to another pained scream from beneath a fresh layer of pudding. In her haste, Megan tossed her second pie with her weaker left hand. It falls short but still connects, banging into Britt's breasts and instantly destroying her sports bra in a deluge of blueberry filling and cream. Britt moans as she feels the sludge seep inside her bra and tickle her tits. She was so proud to sport this cute outfit for the camera in the boardwalk vlog earlier. Little did she know it'd be on another camera later in the day, and that'd be the last time she'd ever get to wear it.

The pie to Britt's chest sideswiped the pie in her left hand before hitting her, causing it to topple to the floor. In just a few short seconds, Britt took three massive hits to the face and one to the breasts, and lost 8 points in the process. Megan and Taylor look at their sputtering target and smile at each other, knowing they'd taken down this wannabe influencer a notch or two.

With just one pie left, she knew her only chance to avoid the mega-punishment was to get Megan. Britt cleared her eyes enough to see her target, and even tried to fake Megan out by aiming at Taylor, but when Britt whipped her head around and launched the pie at Megan's face, the sorority girl was ready. She ducked, and the pie went flying off into the distance.

Britt was the only person who took a pie in that round, and she got jacked up.

"Well this is it! Last round of the last game! Guys, give 'em some more ammo and let's see what happens!"

[Narrator's note: It's probably quite obvious by now, but Britt and Danny have fallen to last place. They have -6 points. Megan and Sam still have -1, and Taylor has 9.]

The crowd begins baying again as the stagehands give the ladies another set of cream pies.

Britt had seen better days. Not only was the seat of her pants ruined after sitting on several cakes, her entire front was now splattered. She got caked to end Round 2 and just received four pies in a row a moment ago. Her sports bra was a total loss after Megan pied her tits. At this point, all she could only hope for was a miracle.

Mark yelled Go!, and the girls looked at each other tentatively. Taylor knew she already won and could basically choose who she wanted to come in last. She thought it funny that Britt's friend Emma had put her and Danny on blast, and that Marc used that as cover to get some unsuspecting people in the game. She decided she wanted Britt to stay in 3rd and get the mega-punishment.

With nothing to lose, Taylor shrugged her shoulders and threw her first pie Britt's way. With Britt focusing on Megan, she never saw it coming. She turned her head just in time to receive yet another facial. The pie bangs her between the eyes, depositing whipped cream and cherry filling all over her face and mangled hair before flying over her head.

Britt shrieked at the force of the hit, but had the wherewithal to duck immediately in anticipation of another hit. To her surprise, none came. Did someone miss over her head?

She quickly shakes her head to dislodge as much pie as she can, and stands back up to look at Megan, just in time to see another pie coming her way. Her instinct is to turn her head to the side, which does very little. The pie slams into her left cheek for another direct hit. This one clogs her ear, which on one hand muffled the cheering that had turned against her, but also deprived her of a sense critical to the game.

With taste, smell, and touch totally useless, Britt was down sight and now sound. The silence was terrifying. She couldn't hear Taylor bark with conviction, "This is for those stupid yoga pants!" Taylor fired her second pie right at Britt's crotch, scoring a hit between her legs and smothering what little of Britt's leggings remained clean with vanilla pudding and cream. The pie tin fell to the floor with a smack, and pie slop began following it, falling from between her legs as though it was a discharge.

Megan had one pie left, but with her second place finish well in hand, she looked at Taylor, who had miraculously gotten to this point without a single thing being thrown in her face. Megan couldn't let that stand.

She yelled "HEY!" in Taylor's direction and launched the pie at her. Unaccustomed to having to dodge anything, Taylor couldn't think to do anything but close her eyes. The pie exploded in her face in a creamy white splash, blueberry pie filling staining her white coverup and leaving a necklace of cream on her scapula. The dark sludge started sliding down a new body for once.

Taylor froze, her mouth hanging open in shock, her pretty face wiped away and replaced with a mask of cream and pie filling. All she could do was chuckle incredulously.

It may have been too late, but Britt could not let Megan get away with this. She hated sorority girls back in college, and this one specifically, after Megan clobbered Danny with that pie earlier.

With Megan distracted, Britt launched both pies one after another. Megan foolishly turned her head directly into their paths. The first blasted Megan's face harder than a Sig Ep boy on a Saturday night. Chocolate pudding shoved its way up her nose and down her throat, causing her to yelp in embarrassment and spit pie out of her cream-stuffed mouth.

The other slammed hard into her chest, the blueberry pie filling instantly turning her cute yellow bralette a grisly shade of purple. Cold whipped cream splattered her torso, causing her to yelp from the sensation. Remnants of both pies began their trek down her sun-kissed body, coating what remained of her bra and any clean skin she had left. Sam could be seen off to the side laughing hysterically at the sight.

A whopping 24 pies had been used in this round, and the carnage showed. Britt and Danny somehow lost a total of 13 points. In the span of less than two minutes, Britt got hit with seven pies, five of them thrown in her face. She returned to Danny a blubbering mess, her hair tangled and matted to her shoulders. She was spitting pie, dripping pie, even wearing pie inside her once pristine sports bra and yoga pants, all after getting caked last round. Danny didn't fare much better, the victim of three pies in the face as well. Sam also got rocked, taking three in his face and one wicked shot in the crotch (which was still throbbing in pain, by the way).

"That's all folks!" Marc proclaimed. "I now have the final scores, and thus the winners of all of our wonderful prizes. In today's game of course, everybody gets a prize, you just might not like the one you get!

"We'll reveal our winners right after this commercial break. Trust me, you don't wanna miss it!"

Once again, viewers are treated to slow-motion replays of the most wicked parts of the pie fight. We see Sam getting nailed in the crotch and immediately doubling over in pain. That's followed by poor Britt, who takes two pies in her face at the same time, her body convulsing in shock, followed by a jump cut to her taking a pie in the tits. The slow-mo catches her boobs as they wobble on impact, blueberries flying everywhere and the pie tin falling away to reveal the beige sports bra smothered in slop.



SCENE 5: THE WALL OF SHAME
Instead of bantering with the contestants, Marc confers with producers and stagehands, no doubt setting up for what will be an epic conclusion. The stage director counts down, and we're back.

"We're back on the season premiere of What Would You Do, and it's time for our prize presentation! So without further ado, let's start with our winners! In first place, the winner of the brand new Ford SUV, with a total of 7 points"

"Let's give it up for Taylor and Eric!!"

A roar of applause follows as Robin drives the car out to stage right, where they see it up close for the first time. This is theirs, what a honeymoon gift! Despite having ruined some clothes and gotten pied once or twice, Eric and Taylor are ecstatic. They hug each other and jump up and down in excitement.

"That's amazing, congratulations you two! Now for second!

"It got a little sketchy after his performance in the pie fight, but finishing with a grand total of negative 4 points, haha second place and a set of steak knives goes to"

"Megan and Sam! Well done, ya Ivy League nerds!"

Robin presents them with the set of knives, which doesn't feel like a prize so much as a relief. They won't have to find out firsthand what the mega-punishment is.

"And folks, you know what that means. After each putting up a poor showing in the pie fight just look at their bodies!

They lost a whopping 19 points in Round 3, so coming in third, with a grand total of negative 11 points, let's hear it for Britt and Danny!"

They get more applause than seems appropriate.

"Now you don't get a prize to take home, but you do get a prize. But first, you need to earn it. And by that I mean, we want to see you strip each other's clothes off! Come on folks, what do you say? Should they take them off?"

The crowd catches on quickly. They begin clapping, stomping, and chanting. "TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF!" Their friends in the second row are visibly uncomfortable, Emma especially. She did NOT expect it to come to this.

Reluctantly, Britt and Danny do as Marc commands. They come together and apologize to each other with their eyes as they prepare to receive whatever unknown humiliations Marc has planned.

TAKE IT OFF! The audience continues to shout.

Britt and Danny treat this with the solemnity of a funeral. Britt goes first, grabbing the waistband of Danny's gray leggings and tugging them to his knees. He steps out of them, a large grimace showing through the pie still smothering his face. From her crouching position, Britt looks up at his face, and can't bear to look at him during this next part. With one camera trained on her and another on Danny's groin, she hooks her fingers around his hips, grabs hold of his underwear, looks away, and tugs them down.

The crowd explodes as Danny's big, freshly shaved dick breaks free from his underwear and triumphantly bounces up and down before going limp. Britt yanks Danny's underwear to his ankles and carefully removes them. She tosses them aside, stands up, and looks anywhere but at him.

Now it's her turn.

Danny whispers with the utmost care, "top or bottom first?"

"Top," she responds.

The crowd has changed its tune again. TAKE IT OFF! TAKE IT OFF!

Danny grabs the straps and pulls them off Britt's shoulders. He grabs the pie-soaked garment just above her waist and pulls it up as Britt raises her arms skyward. Her C-cup breasts come bouncing out and the crowd reaches a crescendo. The camera catches Emma averting her eyes while her best friend gets stripped naked on national television.

Danny tosses the bra to the floor and drops to a crouch. He feels Britt's pie-stained yoga pants as he grabs onto the waistband at her hips. What once was a beautiful blue is now a melange of whites, browns, reds, and purples, with extra carnage on her ass, where Britt sat in cake after cake, and on her crotch, where she got struck during the pie fight.

He takes a deep breath and yanks them down. Britt stares at the ceiling, her eyes closed as she feels the cool air of the studio rush around her newly-exposed legs. The cheers tell her what the audience thinks of her. She's obviously fit as fuck, but the cheers are for the revelation of her thong underneath, which puts her meaty ass on view for everyone to see. If only someone had a pie to hit it with! A camera zooms in on it, which she sees on an overhead monitor. She sighs. She slowly steps out of the pants at her ankles and prepares for things to get even worse.

Danny's hands return to her hips. The beige thong matched her sports bra at one point, but that feels like forever ago.

The cheers reach a crescendo as Danny slowly pulls Britt's underwear down, revealing her waxed pussy. She got it done just before the trip, in case, you know, a situation presented itself. She didn't expect this to be the situation.

Camera phones are snapping everything, from the monitors showing a full frontal view, to their own view of Britt's tight ass. She knows the men (and some women!) are thinking of all the unspeakable things they would do to it if they got their hands on it.

People are going nuts. This is going to air on the Comedy Channel?!

Marc promised prizes for the losers, and with two nude bodies staring him in the face, he has all the justification he needs to clown them even more.

"Robin, can we bring out some pies for these two?"

It was inevitable. There's an eruption of laughter and applause as Robin and a stagehand re-emerge with four creamy delights. They hand one to each of the other four contestants. They know exactly what to do, except this time they switch things up.

The women, Taylor and Megan, walk over to Danny, and they make no secret about their intentions. Their eyes go right to his dick.

The men spot their prey too, with the petite Britt giving up at least six inches to each boy. They stare directly at her exposed breasts while she audibly pleads for mercy, desperate to avoid a whipped cream gang bang.

Feeling their eyes on their naked bodies, Danny cups his hands around his dick, and Britt uses hers to cover her chest and crotch.

"We promised some prizes to the last place team," Marc said. "So let's give them to Britt and Danny! No fair blocking those pies, guys. Hands behind your backs!"

"On the count of three!"


ONE! TWO! THREE!

Newlywed Eric clobbers Britt with a pie in her face. Her plea to prevent the pieing becomes an agonizing muffled scream to just make it stop. She tastes caramel syrup going up her nose and feels it dripping all over her neck and shoulders. Frat boy Sam follows with a hard smash into Britt's clean tits. Her breasts again wobble on impact, and Sam does not let up. He rubs the pie around, coating both breasts completely before pulling the pie away. With a hot naked girl's rack in front of him, he just can't help himself. He cops a feel, grabbing Britt's right tit with his left hand and massaging the slop into her skin. He gives her nipple a little pinch before she finally slaps his hand away.

Danny gets it worse. We hear a pained OHHHHHH as Megan delivers a pie right to his nuts. The cream and vanilla pudding feel thick and cold as Megan massages the pie up and down, giving him what amounts to a cream pie hand job. Danny's moan comes to an abrupt end, as Taylor clocks him with her pie. She rubs it in too, smearing it all over his face and sending blueberry filling up his nose and down his throat. Next thing he knows, he's feeling a hand massaging his dick. Megan has removed the tin and gone to work on his shaft, which has grown much larger in just a few seconds, thanks to the creamy pie and Megan's hand.

The crowd is bug-eyed as they see this happening. Britt looks over. Her heart breaks for him.

Megan finally stops, leaving his erection to bob up and down inelegantly. She stands up, purposely presses her boobs against his shoulder, and whispers in his ear, "Enjoy your live TV boner, you dumb fuck." Her payback for his earlier leering complete, she finds some clean skin on his arm to wipe off her messy hand, gives him a shove, and walks away. Who knows? Maybe if the vlog takes off, she could tell the story about the time she gave a celebrity a hand job.

Marc steps back in. "Well THAT was something! I'm sure you enjoyed those prizes, but back at the beginning, I also promised the losers a game. So Britt, I need you to go with Robin over to the Pie Dunk Tank. And Taylor and Eric, why don't you tag along?

Vociferous cheers follow as Robin escorts a fully nude Britt, now with pie all over her face and breasts, over to the hulking dunker.

"And Danny, you need to follow me" Marc motions to stage right "and take a seat in the Pie Machine, which we've renamed" Marc's voice drops an octave "The Torture Chamber."

The audience yells their approval as Danny trudges over to sit in the chair, flopping dick and all. Marc beckons for Megan and Sam to come with them.

Danny plops down on the seat, and a stagehand gets to work on the restraints, locking his wrists to the armrests, his ankles to the chair's legs, and strapping him in at the waist. All around him are menacing contraptions that he learns very quickly are there to destroy him.

Marc explains. "The reason we've renamed it the Torture Chamber? Because what will happen to you is truly torturous. Instead of pies, we've loaded our Pie Pod arms with four cakes, which we'll launch right at your face!" Marc gestures toward the cakes, each of which have a red bullseye made of frosting on it, and a blue word on it. From left to right, in combination, they read What Would You Do?

"Plus, we've installed some nozzles. Some you can see, some you don't. Like, for example, this one" he points upward at a black-colored one "is aimed directly at your lap. And there are others, but I can't tell you where."

"Once all of those are done with you, then it's time for the Pie Wash. That's when we spin you around four times, and these four white nozzles" he points up at four hoses above Danny's head at his 10, 2, 4, and 8:00 "douse you in even more cream."

"Then the Crowning Glory" he points up at a literal crown suspended above Danny's head; it used to contain a window revealing its contents, but now it's completely covered up "unloading itself right on your head."

"And finally" Marc pulls out a device with an antenna containing two buttons "this is the Creampie."

He hits the first button, and four fake penises rise from the floor. They form a semicircle at Danny's eye level, all of them aimed directly at his face.

"When Megan and Sam hit this second button here, I think you know what happens." He hits the first button again and the penises retract back to the floor.

"Buuuut, Danny, your pie-stained friend Britt can save you!"

Marc hightails it across the stage to join Robin, Taylor, Eric, and Britt beside the Pie Dunk Tank. He addresses Britt directly. She has one hand over her crotch, and her other arm across her chest. She wants to try to hang onto any modesty she can keep, however temporary it might be.

"Britt, did you think this would happen when Emma volunteered you for this game?"

"No! This fucking sucks!"

"Anything you'd like to say to her now that you're naked in front of all these people and many more at home?"

"Fuck you, Emma!!"

"Nice one. Anyway, after that last round, I think you need a chance to redeem yourself. I want to be clear: in this game, you can't save yourself, you can only save your friend Danny over there."

"Because you lost SO MANY POINTS in that last round, you have to suffer the consequences. So we're gonna send you up to sit in the Pie Dunk Tank, Taylor and Eric are gonna hit this bullseye, and you're going to drop 10 feet into this giant "

A "no!!!" is heard off-mic.

"What's that?" Marc asks.

"No!" Britt repeats. "I'm scared of heights!"

"Oh, okay. Well in that case, you can stay right here on the ground."

Britt is relieved, truly thinking Marc has spared her. Spoiler: he has not.

"Robin, can you bring me Britt's clothes?"

"And I'll get to put my clothes back on?" Britt thinks to herself.

Robin grabs the pile from near center stage her thong, leggings, sports bra, t-shirt, and socks and returns to the Dunk Tank holding them gingerly, not wanting to get any mess on herself.

Marc continues. "That claw on the far side of the dunk tank" he points at a space-agey looking mechanical arm whose claw is dangling a couple of feet above the cream "let's load those into it."

The audience stirs. Robin places all of Britt's stuff in the claw.

Calling to a producer offstage, Marc shouts, "Hey Jeff, send them in, would you please?"

Britt bellows another horrified "no!", but it's of no use. Suddenly, the claw drops 4 feet, submerging Britt's clothes beneath the surface. The audience cheers as the claw emerges empty handed, returning to its resting place at the edge of the tank above the cream. The claw is covered in cream, much like Britt now realizes she's about to be.

"So like I said, you're gonna play this game, fear of heights or not. We're sending you up there to take the loser's punishment: dropping fully nude straight into this giant tub of Cool Whip.

"Once you hit the cream, you'll have 60 seconds to find your clothes, get out of the dunk tank, scramble onto this mat" he gestures to a rubber mat next to a ladder leading out of the tank "and put all of your clothes back on.

"If you can do that, you'll save Danny over there. All those horrific messy things I said would happen? They won't.

"But if you can't complete this challenge in 60 seconds, once the timer hits zero, there will be no warning. The Torture Chamber will spring to life, and we'll see if Danny complains about something more than a fear of heights once we're done with him. Got it?"

Another cheer from the crowd as Britt takes the arm covering her breasts and buries her pie-covered face in her hand. In short order, she'll have to face her biggest fear and keep enough poise to complete a seemingly impossible task, or else consign one of her dearest friends to a wretched, degrading finale.

"Let's get you up there, Britt!"

She finds the courage, and steps onto a platform that rises 17 feet above the stage to reach the seat suspended above the vat. For some lucky audience members in the right seats, they have a front row seat to Britt's bare ass rising up the platform, and they don't miss their opportunity to take some videos for their social media stories.

A camera high above the studio floor shows a bird's eye view, giving the audience and the people at home a look at what Britt sees. The claw several feet down on her left, the production equipment in the back of the studio, the audience behind her, and a loooong way down to a pool of nothing but white, ready to receive her. She's shaking from her nakedness and her nerves. She grips the sides of her seat with all of her might, even knowing it could drop out from beneath her at any moment, sending her hurtling down into the cream.

Marc sees her struggling up there and takes his sweet time. "Well, well, well It's the season premiere of What Would You Do, and I'd say we did a tremendous job putting together one of our best shows yet. Our thanks to the entire production staff here at our new Daytona Beach studio, to our wonderful audience" cheers erupt once again "and of course, to all of our contestants for playing our game, and one more congratulations to all of our winners today!

"Well, Taylor got to pummel Britt with pies, now she gets to give her the creamy punishment she truly deserves. Britt, 60 seconds are on the clock. Taylor, Sam, are you ready?!"

They nod yes. About two stories up, Britt grips her seat even tighter. A microphone above the tank captures her tiny little squeals. She can't stand being up here. She squirms in the seat and kicks her feet nervously. She just wants it to all be over.

"On the count of three!"

ONE! TWO! THREE!

The audience is a sea of camera phones, ready to capture the carnage to share with the world. The ultimate declaration of "I was there when"

Taylor and Eric push the bullseye with their hands, causing Britt's seat to drop beneath her and sending her into a freefall. Britt opened her eyes the moment the audience yelled three, and she saw for herself hurtling back to earth. With nothing left to hold onto, she screams bloody murder and flails her arms and legs wildly. The wind rushes between her legs and all around her body, her creamy destination rapidly approaching.

At just a foot or two away she shuts her eyes again and braces for impact. She hits the vat of cream hard, her body making a giant PLOP sound and her momentum taking her completely under. Cream shoots in all directions, showering the first row and nearly getting Taylor and Eric.

After what seems like an eternity (really only two or three seconds), she resurfaces, a ghost in all white. She flops about in the cream before recognizing it's thick enough that she can float without effort. Her mouth hangs open as she processes the biggest shock she's ever felt in her life. It's cold, wet, sticky, and sickeningly sweet.

With her ears clogged with pie, Britt can only hear a muffled Marc urging her to stop wasting valuable time. On one hand, she could cry, but on the other, she's relieved to not be up there anymore, and to have something covering her naked body, even if it's cold whipped cream. She ejects the thought from her mind and gets to work.

The thickness of the muck leads her to believe that her clothes should still be relatively close together. She scrambles to the area just beneath the claw and starts feeling around.

Unable to grab onto anything, she takes a deep breath and submerges herself beneath the surface of the cream. She feels like she's having an orgasm while also drowning, which adds urgency to her search. She finds something!

She resurfaces, tosses her leggings toward the exit ladder, and goes back under. Feeling around some more, she feels everything she needs, the socks, the sports bra, the t-shirt. She paddles over to the ladder, throws everything out of the tank and onto the mat, and tries to exit.

Britt climbs the ladder and nearly gets all the way out, but her messy hands both lose their grip. She falls backward and lands on her back, right back onto the cream.

"35 seconds left!" Marc yells.

Back to the ladder she goes, this time more carefully. She finds her way out and clambers down the other side, then runs over to the mat to frantically put on her clothes.

She starts with the leggings. The tightness and stretchiness of her yoga pants have many benefits they show off her great ass, they're good for pretty much any kind of physical activity but they're not so easy to put on when they and the wearer's body are soaking wet and smothered in pie. Britt tries to put them on, but they won't go beyond her ankle. She tries the other leg, same thing.

She realizes that she'll once again have to betray her dignity if there's any chance of winning this game. She forgets the pants and starts pressing her hands over her body, pushing cream down to the floor, attempting to rid her body of as much of it as she can. The cameras capture the sensual moment, Britt's hands sliding over her breasts, her flat stomach, her butt, her long, lean legs.

Ungodly amounts of cream slide off her body to the floor. She once again feels the eyes on her privates as they re-emerge, this time with streaks of pie where her hands missed a spot.

"20 seconds!"

She tries the yoga pants again, and this time they slide on easily. With all they've been through, they're no longer her favorite shade of blue, just a mass of white cream with leg holes.

She does the sports bra next. Luckily, she didn't grab her overly strappy one today, though she feels regret that this cute thing is likely going in the trash. It slides on easily, leaving just the shirt and her socks.

"10 seconds!"

Britt grabs the shirt and throws her head through it. She guessed which side was the front, and got lucky for the first time today.

The ankle socks go on quickly. She did it! It was hell, but she completed the challenge! She looks at Marc and

"Where's your underwear??" he asks.

Britt gets it immediately. "SHIT!" she yells.

"3!"

She drops to her knees, shoving cream out of the way. She's hoping against hope, but she knows where her thong is.

"2!"

It's over. The cake sittings, the pie fight, and now this. She failed Danny three times, and

"1!"

" now he has to pay the price."

As Marc promised, there's no buzzer to signal the end of the game. All Britt hears is a pained scream coming from across the set. Cameras capture Danny's final punishment, which begins when the overhead nozzle fires a jet of cream directly at Danny's exposed crotch. His balls take the hit, which feels like a giant kick in the nuts. His dick starts flopping around, trying to do what Danny can't get out of the way.

Danny's elongated wails continue. Suddenly the speakers shriek, "CAKE FACE!!" The Steve Aoki beat drops, and Danny's screams finally end when he is brutally shut up by a cake from out of nowhere. It slams right into his face, sending clumps deep down his throat and smothering him in thick frosting and vanilla. His chest and shoulders suffer heavy damage, all while the jet continues to pound his dick with cream. It's so unpleasant that he actually feels it growing into a full-blown hard-on.

The dance beat continues at almost ear-splitting levels. With his eyes blinded by the first cake, Danny can't see anything else coming. He struggles in his seat as Cake #2, a strawberries and cream concoction, flies in and absolutely demolishes him. The hit is so hard that Danny's head snaps backward, the pink cake delivering its payload and flying over his head into oblivion, adding a snap of pink color to Danny's rainbow-smeared body.

The jet of cream shooting at his groin finally stops, only for the surprise that Marc hinted at. The seat of the torture chamber was actually in a crosshatch design, leaving numerous holes beneath the seat. Under the seat was another black jet, positioned right beneath Danny's asshole. Danny screams bloody murder as more cream shoots up his butt, giving him perhaps the first whipped cream enema ever broadcast on television. A camera set up to the side of the chair captures the degrading blast. The song's beat pulsates. He tries to wriggle his body to get some relief, but the seatbelt tight on his waist won't let him. All he can do is sit there and take it.

Across the stage, Britt is seated on the rubber mat watching this happen. Her hands are cuffed over her mouth in shock and disbelief. Because of her, one of her best friends is getting sodomized in front of all these people. This guilt could eat at her forever.

Another pained yet muffled OHHH from Danny snaps her back to attention. A third cake blasts him in the face, hitting him between the eyes and sliding down his chest, leaving a long, wide trail of icing and lemon filling all the way down his torso. Any inch of clean skin has now been eliminated. The cake comes to rest in his lap, smearing more stuff on his hard-on. Between the cream being shot up his ass and the cake settling on his groin, Danny feels an orgasm starting to build. He tries desperately to suppress it.

He still can't see it, but knows it's coming. The song yells CAKE FACE! again right as Cake #4, another red velvet, bashes the right side of his mug, deafening him and sending another wave of red and white stuff raining down on his body. At least he doesn't have to hear that godforsaken song anymore.

The jet beneath Danny's seat stops and the music comes down, but the celebration is nowhere near over. He still can't see a thing, but he feels the chair start to spin. A moment later, the four jets above his head get to work. His entire top half gets showered in another thick coating of whipped cream, matching the stuff that got shot into his balls and between his butt cheeks. Around and around he goes, collecting more slop on his smothered body, until finally the chair stops spinning and the jets stop flowing.

Danny hears the audience count. ONE! TWO! THREE! For what again? Is it more cakes? Another load to the nuts?

No, this time it's the Crowning Glory, and it's filled with chocolate syrup. 10 gallons of the stuff come pouring down on him, and like everything else, the force of it hitting his head takes his breath away. The syrup clears off cake bits piled up on his head, sending black chunks down into Andy's lap. Once all white, now Danny is a surrealist painting of black and white, with specks of pink, yellow and red left over from the multiple cakings.

The flow slows to a drip, but the damage has been done. His head is completely black, with long strands of chocolate dripping off his face and into his lap. Feeling the warm syrup oozing all over him, Danny's dick has once again risen to attention, which the cameras easily catch and zoom in on. Sicko.

Marc has come over to the Torture Machine and is standing beside Megan and Sam.

"Finish him!" Marc says. The students hit the button to raise the fake dicks into place.

Danny hears the audience counting again but doesn't know why. With cake and chocolate syrup gluing his eyes shut, he has no idea what's coming until the sound of a man having an orgasm plays inside the studio. From far away, you can almost hear Britt yelling "Stop, he's done!" as if she were the living embodiment of the Simpsons meme.

But the groans get louder and louder until finally, all four penises explode. Ropes of fake cum blast Danny's face and shoot into his eyes, his hair and even up his nose. The dicks continue to pump viscous cream at him, four, five, six times, before slowing to a trickle. He thinks it's over, and tries to take a breath.

BOOSH! One last full strength blast nails him for good measure, the cream arcing perfectly into Danny's open mouth. The audience OHHHHHs at the lucky shot, leaving Danny coughing and then spitting it onto his own chest. The penises retract and Marc eases his way over to Andy, careful not to get any mess on himself. He sticks a microphone in his face.

"So Danny, did you enjoy that or what?"

All Danny can give is something between a moan and a cry. He's totally spent, his body having been completely abused for people's entertainment. He thinks back to when he suggested the group get tickets to this taping, and he now hates that ever bringing it up. He saw the pictures in the hall. He had a chance to walk away. But he didn't.

"Well that's our show folks! Thanks for joining us on the season premiere of What Would You Do, we'll see you next time, bye-bye!"

The credits roll, and we're treated to one last slow-mo replay. First, of Britt in the Dunk Tank, her seat dropping from beneath her, then her freefall, which seems to last forever, dumping her straight into the vat of cream, where her naked body disappears beneath the surface.

And of course, Danny's many faces. His reaction to the jet of cream to his dick. The first cake pounding his face. The jet of cream up his ass. The deluge of chocolate syrup. And finally, pump after pump of viscous cream giving him the last of his many facials, culminating with the stuff dribbling out of his mouth. Fade to black.

In the end, the punishments doled out to Britt and Danny read like a holiday dinner menu:

For Britt, 6 pies in the face, 2 pies in the chest, 1 pie in the crotch, 1 cake in the face, 3 cake sittings, and 1 terrifying fall into the Pie Dunk Tank.

For Danny, 4 pies in the face, 5 cakes in the face, 1 pie in the chest, 1 pie in the crotch, 2 cake sittings, 1 cream blast to his crotch, 1 cream blast up his ass, 1 Pie Wash, 1 chocolate syrup sliming, and 1 massive facial courtesy of the Creampie.

And hundreds of dollars of ruined athleisure. Mission accomplished.


SCENE 6: EPILOGUE
People are filing out by the time Britt and Danny finish cleaning themselves up as best they can. They've been given shapeless, oversized WWYD-branded t-shirts and cheap baggy gym shorts from the local Walmart, nothing near the form-fitting lycra they wore when they came in. With her thong still somewhere in the Dunk Tank, Britt is forced to go commando, which adds a self-consciousness she never had in those yoga pants, which are now in a plastic bag, soaking wet, rank with the smell of rotting cream, and probably ruined forever.

A few stragglers spot Britt and Danny on their way out and give them both snide, knowing looks. Already, social media has filled up with posts of all kinds: videos of a totally naked Britt getting pied in her face and her tits; Britt taking the long drop into the whipped cream vat; a gasping Danny getting a blast of cream straight to the balls; a squirming Danny getting loads shot in his face by four fake dicks. The videos are all overlaid with zany fonts, ironic captions like WARDROBE MALFUNCTION! Bitch needs a drip check! Simp fucked around and found out!, accompanied with emojis of all kinds. And the reaction vids, so many reaction vids.

It's a cruel irony. The entire point of becoming vloggers was to make their workout videos go viral. Now they're going viral for an entirely different reason.

Britt and Danny find their friends and stare daggers through them. Emma begins apologizing profusely, claiming she didn't know it would get this bad, but it would take more than an apology to mend these fences. Already, Britt and Danny's phones were blowing up with friends recognizing them from social media.

As the group awkwardly left the studio, they saw the warning sign that should have given them pause, but which Danny deemed too wordy to bother reading: "Clothes can be soiled participants may be instructed to undress participation is at your own risk" Danny taps Britt on her shoulder and points to it. They both scoff at it. They see the faces on the Wall of Shame, and their hearts leap into their throats. On an easel in the hallway, there it sits. Side by side, an after shot of a naked Danny, covered in cake mess and chocolate syrup, goo dribbling from his mouth. And an after shot of a naked Britt, standing on a rubber mat, her hands brushing cream off her now-exposed breasts as she tries desperately to clean herself off.

Tonight's last-night-in-town party will be subdued, if it happens at all. With their flight home tomorrow morning, all Britt and Danny have to look forward to is going viral for all the wrong reasons, several more months of bitter cold back home in Chicago, and skyrocketing copays for all the therapy they'll need to help them get past this. They wanted to let loose and go wild in Fort Lauderdale. The "go wild" part has been immortalized forever, warning future guests of what may be in store for them if they piss off their friends enough.