by Abbie Walton
“I have two conditions.”
“Anything. Just ask.” Colin almost squeaked, such was his excitement at the possibility that this might now actually happen.
“Firstly, in addition to the two grand, you cover the cost of any dry cleaning of my clothes and you agree to replace any that are damaged.”
“Done.”
“Secondly, you promise not to tell another living soul, ever, that I have done this.”
“You have my word, Kate. Look, I don’t really want the people around here finding out about what I do for a living, either. It will be our dirty little secret, that no-one ever needs to know about.”
“And you’re not recording this for future posterity? It’s just a webcam?
“Absolutely, just a webcam. This is just between you, me and Mr Fukui.”
Kate took a deep breath and uttered four words that she could not quite believe she was saying.
“O.K. I’ll do it.”
CHAPTER EIGHT: AN EDUCATIONAL DISCUSSION
It was quite a frenetic few minutes leading up to the start of the webcam, in order to make sure all the preparations were complete and that Kate had a fair idea about what was going to happen. Kate soon came to appreciate that there was more to this than first met the eye - this was not just unplanned and uncoordinated messy mayhem, there was something of an art and a science to this, as Colin was keen to point out as they opened the last of the tins, ready for usage.
“You see, there are some producers who take a somewhat laissez-faire, anything-goes approach. They just provide the food and let the models get on with it – it just into a massive food fight really. There’s room for suchlike, I suppose, but my method is much more methodical and pre-planned than that.”
“I can’t see what really needs to be planned. By the way, this can opening machine is amazing! Is it a professional one?”
“Yeah, it’s the kind they use in restaurants and hotels. It’s a life saver, I can tell you. Opening a hundred tins with one of those crap regular ones would take an age, and it’s surprising how it makes your arm muscles ache after a while. Plus, there is an important safety factor to it as well, of course.
“Safety?”
“Oh, yes, absolutely. One of the most common injuries you get with sploshing is cut fingers from the sharp edges you can get sometimes when you open cans, especially when you’re in a rush like we are tonight. Having a proper machine like this means you always get a nice clean edge, as well as the speed.”
“Well, I suppose that makes sense. You mentioned “sploshing” just then. Is that the official name for what you do?”
“Well, yes and no. “Sploshing” was a term that was devised by a wonderful man called Bill Shipton way back in the 1980’s. He’s kind of our patron saint, in the UK at least. In the US, it’s probably a guy called Rob Blaine, but that’s a different story. Anyway, Bill was really into this and realized that “splosh” was one of the funny sounds that can be made when you’re doing this, especially when a bucket of custard is poured from a great height. So, the concept of “sploshing” was born. He even produced a magazine with the name “Splosh” for quite a while – that was in the days before the internet really got going. He did have a Splosh website as well though, which had a forum on it and some videos etc. It got taken down when he died though. That was a sad loss to us “sploshers”. But, back to the original question, some people call it sploshing, but generally it’s known these days as “WAM”.
“WAM? Let me guess – the ‘M’ stands for ‘Messy’?
“You’re dead right, yes - it stands for “Wet and Messy”. The people who do this stuff are very often known as “Wammers”.
“Well, you learn something, every day,” Kate laughed, still not quite believing this was happening. Still, she did find all this very strange and she found that she was very curious to know more about it all. “It sounds like there is a whole sub-culture behind this, not just a few people chucking food about.”
“There absolutely is a sub-culture, even an industry in some ways. There are some people who make a living doing this, either producing content like me, or featuring in it. I don’t suppose there are a lot of people who do it full-time, but it could definitely be part-time.”
“So you’ve got, like, “celebrities” who do this stuff all the time?”
“Well, not real celebrities, of course, at least not deliberately.”
“What do you mean, “not deliberately”?
“Well, there are really two kinds of WAM. There is the stuff that is deliberately done for the WAM market, like what I do. And then there is the stuff that appears in the mainstream media – TV, movies, Youtube – which is not done deliberately for the benefit of us Wammers, but we still enjoy it. You’d be surprised at how much messy stuff there is out there when you really think about it. There must be a lot of secret Wammers behind the scenes who are making sure this stuff happens, and there must also be a lot of people who secretly like it but don’t realize it or won’t admit it.”
“You really think so? I can’t see it myself.”
“Just think about it, though. Think of all the kids TV shows that have had gunge in it – on the BCC, you go way back to Crackerjack with Stu Francis, then there was Double Dare with Peter whatshisname, Live and Kicking with that fit bird who seemed to get messy every week. Then, on ITV, of course you can’t forget Tiswas with the Phantom Flan Flinger, the cage of people getting stuff thrown at them, and the stocks. Then there was How Dare You, which was full of mess and after that was Fun House with Pat Sharp. I bet if you looked at the TV schedules these days, there would still be lots of programmes that have the same kind of stuff, messy games, forfeits, challenges and all the rest of it. It’s the same on US TV as well – they have the Nickleodeon Award stuff where celebrities come and get slimed, plus lots of other stuff.
“Hmm…you’re probably right. I hadn’t thought of it before.”
“Of course, I’m right. Kids are bombarded with this from an early age. And then when they get a bit older, it carries on. What about Noel’s House Party a few years back – with the voting for the Gunge Tank and the Telephone Booth? I’m telling you, Noel Edmonds must have been into that stuff. But the audience figures showed that millions of viewers enjoyed watching celebrities getting gunged as well. Then there is Comic Relief – every year there is always some messy stuff going on. And up and down the country, teachers are being gunged in gunge tanks and supermarket workers are sitting in baths full of beans in order to raise a few quid. And, don’t forget, there is stuff like “I’m a Celebrity, Get Me Out of Here” and “Big Brother”, which always has some messy content. You know, the more I think about it, the more I am convinced that we are actually a nation of Wammers. We are just too bloody repressed to admit it in public.”
“Well, you are certainly right about that – the English psyche, that is. I did a whole course on that in the second year of my degree. All about the stiff upper lip, keeping everything quiet and behind closed doors. Completely unlike the Dutch, for example, who are liberal as they come and don’t mind showing it.”
“Well, I could talk about this philosophical stuff all day, as you can probably see! But we had better get cracking with this. I need to Skype our Japanese friend and make sure we have a good connection.” Kate suddenly felt nervous about this all over again. It was one thing to do this privately with Colin, but this was a live international broadcast for Pete’s sake – with a complete stranger at the other end. Come to think of it, Kate didn’t want to think what he might actually be doing at the other end.
“Sorry…but can you walk me through again what exactly is going to happen?
“Yep. What you see on the table is a collection that Mr Fukui personally ordered himself. I will have a headphone set on and will be following his instructions to the letter as to what gets used when and exactly what should be done with it. All you need to do is sit on the chair and make sure you keep looking at the camera at all times,
as far as possible. The key is to make sure you keep your head up even though your automatic reaction will be to lower it, especially as the weight of everything starts to build up.
“Oh, that sounds just wonderful. I can hardly wait for this.” Colin detected that there might be a hint of sarcasm buried deep within that response, and wisely ignored it.
“There are a couple of things to watch out for. Don’t attempt to wipe anything out of your eyes, even though that feels the right thing to do. You will just make it worse and get stuff in your eyes, some of which might really sting. Just motion to me or say something to indicate you need a towel and I will come and quickly wipe your eyes. I won’t be able to clean your face properly until the end of course, as the whole point of this is to get you messy.”
“Quite. I bet you are going to enjoy this aren’t you?”
Colin, of course, was going to enjoy this immensely, as he always did, no matter how many times he had done it. The fact that the subject on this occasion was Kate, who he quite fancied, and was someone who had never experienced anything like this (a WAM virgin, so to speak) just added to the pleasure. He could feel his pants grow uncomfortably tight as he considered what was about to happen.
“You’ve got a hard-on, haven’t you – you dirty bugger? Is seeing me covered in crap, really going to be that much of a turn-on for you?”
“Mixing business with a little bit of pleasure, let’s put it that way.”
Well, you owe me for this, and don’t you forget it.”
“Oh, I won’t”, replied Colin with a completely straight face. “I am never going to forget this.”
“Get me another glass of wine, will you? I think I am going to need it.”
Colin looked quickly at his watch. “Yes, OK. I’ve just got time to go and get a refill for you before I have to contact Mr Fukui. Back in a tick.”
Kate was left alone with her thoughts for a little while. What on earth was it about this that people enjoyed so much? It just did not make any sense – there wasn’t even any nudity involved and nothing that was overtly or obviously sexy. All this seemed to be was taking an attractive and sexy woman and making her extremely unattractive and unsexy - wasn’t that completely arse-about-face? She resolved to put her pyschology training to good use in the next day or two and really get to the bottom of this. She also prayed that no-one would ever, ever find out about this – her mum and dad would be completely mortified if they ever found out and if Liz got to hear of it, well, Kate would never hear the end of it. Still, at least she was not going to be stripping stark naked and contorting into all kinds of unlikely gymnastic poses with her private bits on full display, as she’d read that more and more young women were doing these days for some quick cash. This was just a bit of harmless fun, a joke, a bet, an escapade, a favour – this was not something she had not sought out as a last resort. She still had her dignity and her morals intact, she assured herself.
Colin arrived back with the replenished glass and handed it over to Kate, who immediately set to work on it. She was not usually a big drinker, but she felt that any help she could get to relax her had got to be a good idea. Colin motioned to her to sit in the white chair, which now felt as welcoming to Kate as an electric one. She sat down and looked at what she was wearing – her top, her skirt, her boots. They suddenly all looked very new and very clean – but not for very much longer.
Colin put on his headset and went over to the laptop to find the right button to press to connect the webcam to Mr Fukui. As the signal sounded to denote that connection was in progress, the camera activated and Kate could immediately see herself on the screen. She realized that she was still holding the glass of wine and that she had better put it down somewhere. She polished off what was left before hurrying to put the empty glass down on the table of food, just making it back to the chair before Mr. Fukui had come online.
“Hello, Mr. Fukui, sir! Can you hear me OK?”
Kate was relieved to hear a faint noise in Colin’s earpiece, meaning that she would not have to listen to Mr Fukui’s voice during all of this. This was going to be weird enough as it was without that.
“Yes, yes. Everything is ready. We have all the food exactly as you ordered. And, as you can see, we have our beautiful young lady here with us – Samantha.”
Kate was called a bit off-guard by that – she hadn’t expected to acquire a stage name. It was probably the protocol in these things and it made sense, although she wouldn’t have chosen that name for herself if she had got to pick. She had always wished that she had been called Elizabeth, so she would have gone for that. Not the end of the world. Kate suddenly saw Colin waving at her from behind the camera. What was he doing? Kate realized that Colin wanted her to wave at the camera and, obediently, she did so, feeling very self-conscious.
“Oh I agree, sir, a very beautiful woman and yes, they…err…are very fine.”
“What are very fine?” thought Kate. She bet she knew the answer but tried to look inquiringly at Colin to find out for certain. Colin ignored her and carried on talking.
“So I think we are ready to start, if you are. Just provide the instructions and we will do our very best to comply with them.” There was a short pause before Colin spoke again. “An “eggsellent” choice to begin with, if I may say so. And what location? OK, very good.”
Colin went back to the table to select the first item and returned to stand just behind Kate’s chair. She could see via the webcam that he was holding a mug and a grey container that looked suspiciously like an egg box.
“Eggs!” said Colin, a bit too enthusiastically for Kate’s liking. “A common choice for a first ingredient. Very good for your hair, of course.”
Unsurprisingly, this was of little comfort to Kate, who had already braced herself, eyes closed, hands clutching the rim of the seat of the white chair, each leg wrapped around a chair leg as if to provide further support to brace her against what was about to come.
CHAPTER NINE: A RIGHT MESS
“Now of course the traditional method is to simply to smash the eggs over the head…” began Colin. Kate gave him a furious stare.
“If you hit me with one of those eggs, you’ll be in the middle of next week before you know it, sunshine!” she hissed.
“Well, if you’d just let me finish, I was going to say that, in view of you being a WAM virgin and all, we’d break you in gently. That’s why I had this cup ready.” Colin held up a mug as if that made everything abundantly clear. However, to people like Kate, who were not well versed in the ways of WAM, it was not clear at all. Colin could see that more explanation was required.
“I’m going to use the lip of the mug to break the egg open a bit, and then prise it open more when it’s over your head, so that the contents flow out. I must warn you though, that eggs are incredibly slimy and runny so they can go anywhere – and I mean anywhere.”
Colin, like the true professional that he was, moved behind Kate again so that he did not block the view of the webcam and accidentally and completely ruin the experience for the viewer. Kate could hear the gentle tapping sound of the egg against the mug and braced herself still further. Nothing happened for what seemed like a long time and she could see on the laptop screen that Colin was trying to gradually open the egg up so that it did not fly off across the room. Then it came, and it came down fast in the end, bouncing off the side of her head and straight onto the floor. It was a glancing blow and she could hardly feel any wetness on her hair. Colin tried again, and this time the egg hit the top of her head and slid more slowly down the back, half it to the floor and half of it down her neck. It was now that she realised that the contents of the egg were actually quite cold and that made her squeal in surprise.
“Sorry, I should have warned you about that,” laughed Colin. “I always take the eggs out of the fridge a couple of hours before the shoot, but it never seems to be quite long enough for some reason. Two down – ten to go!”
The next egg hit the bullseye tha
t Colin had been secretly aiming for all along, barely touching Kate’s head; it disappeared eagerly down her top and into her cleavage. Kate gasped at the feeling and wished, not for the last time that evening, that she had worn a more demure top that did not leave such easy access to her chest. Now that Colin had his eye in, the next three eggs disappeared in exactly the same fashion and by now the force of gravity had started to move the eggs down from the cleavage to Kate’s waist. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
Colin tried a different approach for egg number seven, breaking the egg and putting the content of it into his hand, so that he could more closely control its trajectory. To make sure he hit the target he flipped his hand over onto the top of Kate’s head and rubbed vigorously. The yellow yolk broke and ran in all directions down from her crown, some down her forehead and onto the bridge of her nose. Kate had a burning desire to wipe her face but knew that this was strictly against Wamming protocols. But she was soon distracted by realizing that Colin was now crouching at her feet – what on earth was he doing now? The answer was that he was emptying an egg into her lovely boot – eeurgh! The slime slithered straight down her left leg and right down to her toes – she could feel them swimming in the liquid. And, of course, it would not be fair to leave the left leg out, and so it received the same treatment. It was a most peculiar feeling – on the outside, the boots looked perfectly normal…but on the inside they were anything but.
“Mr. Fukui has instructed to save the remaining eggs until later. He will decide what to do with them then.” The relief that this statement brought Kate was pretty short-lived as Colin had already brought back the next course back from the table. He was holding two plastic bottles, one in each hand. Each had the same label on, but Kate could not make out what the label said from the picture on the screen. Colin flipped up the lid of each bottle, checked to make sure that the foil had been removed from each lid and then flipped them over, positioning them over Kate’s head. A slow drip of a viscous, creamy liquid started to emerge from each one, in parallel. Slowly, the drip increased into a stream and Colin grimaced with concentration in trying to ensure that the flow was even between the two bottles. It was not overly important, but Colin was all about the little details. To him, it was important to have the symmetry and the emptying of each bottle at the same time. He had judged it to perfection – a steady stream had flowed on each side of Kate’s head like a river, onto her shoulders and upper arms. A small quantity was also finding its way down her top to hobnob with the residue of the eggs.