Emma Watson: I Love Gunge
It was a very exciting revelation when it was discovered that Emma Watson had been tuning In to Let Her Have it at home for some time. She was a big fan of the show and had really enjoyed seeing her colleagues getting messy. She had been slimed once herself on Nickelodeon when she was younger and had enjoyed it quite a bit. She had been fantasizing about the possibility of getting messy again ever since. She had seen numerous other big stars get filthy on the show and she began to wonder when it was going to be her turn. She had wondered why it hadn’t happened sooner. When the call finally came, she knew that she would accept the invitation. She was quite eager to accept the offer. She was looking forward to it. She had always thought about what it would be like and now it was all going to happen.
Mr. G. entered the studio to begin the show, as he had done so many times before. This time no one knew who the special guest was going to be. There was no vote this time. It was just going to be Emma getting it. “Now, everyone is probably wondering who our special guest is tonight,” he said,” Tonight, we have a very special guest indeed. Tonight we welcome the one and only, Emma Watson.” The crowd cheered, realizing that they would be getting to see Emma Watson get messy one way or the other. The crowd cheered as Emma entered. She smiled, laughed and waived. To everyone’s surprise, Emma wore a specially made t-shirt. The front read “I love gunge”. The back read “Let me have it”. She walked over to Mr. G. and shook his hand. They then sat opposite each other on the couches to have a chat.
Emma put her fingers to her shirt and pinched it forward, showing it off. “I like the shirt, Emma,” Mr. G. said. “Thank you,” she replied,” I had it specially made myself for the occasion.” “Just for the record, we did not ask Emma to wear the shirt, it was all her own idea.” “Yeah, I just love gunge. I was slimed once when I was younger and I have loved it ever since. It is so much fun. I am really looking forward to today. Don’t go easy on me,” she said. “I am a big fan of the show, I must admit. I love seeing other celebrities get gunged. It is the best. I have always loved it since I was little. Who doesn’t right? Anyone who says they don’t are just in denial. You at home, you know who you are,” she said pointing into the camera,” You love gunge too, you are just to afraid to admit it,” she laughed. “I can’t wait to see what you guys have in store for me today. I’m glad you like my t-shirt,” she said. “Gunge is great though, I would highly recommend it to anyone,” she joked. “So, I take it tat you are all ready to go,” Mr. G. said. “Oh yeah, I am ready for anything that you can throw at me,” she put her hands over her mouth and giggled. “Ok then, please join me on the other end of the stage,” he said. They stood up and walked to the other side of the studio together.
“Ok, Emma, I think that today we will start out with a simple pie,” Mr. G. said. “Ok, I am up for that,” Emma responded. “This time, we are going to let you pie yourself. Now, we expect you to really nail yourself this time. Don’t disappoint us,” he joked. “I think I can handle it,” Emma responded,” It’s a big responsibility. Don’t worry, I will really cream myself. I have always wanted to get a pie in the face. It will be great,” she said. With that, a large whipped cream pie was brought out. Mr. G. took the pie and displayed it for the audience and the cameras. It was then handed over to Emma. She laughed and wiggled her eyebrows. “So, we have Emma Watson and we have a lovely creamy pie. I think that it is time to bring the two together. It will be a perfect combination.” “Thanks,” Emma laughed. “Now you are not going to chicken out on us are you?,” Mr. G. said. “Are you Kidding!?!,” she said. Smiling and eying the pie. She held it in her hands. “Ok everyone, let’s count her down. Emma, on three, do your thing.” The audience counted down. 3...2...1 Emma shut her eyes and scrunched up her face as she raised the pie and thrust it into her own face. The thud that it made when it hit her face echoed throughout the studio. The audience erupted in a flurry of cheers. Emma pied herself as hard as she could. Sound of the pie flew from the back of her head and off into the distance. When she lowered the pie tin, it revealed her facial features encased in the white cream of the pie. She was laughing loudly. Her mouth wide open. She held the pie tin in front of her. Mr. G. pointed at her. She bent her knees and waist laughing. Pie stuck around her neck and shoulders as well. Pie covered the front of her face. She continued laughing. She looked into the camera and laughed as pie fell from her face and shoulders. She scraped some pie from her shoulder and rubbed it on her hair. She playfully rubbed some of the pie on her neck. She licked her lips. She posed with the pie tin in various model like poses joking. She gave a thumbs up and gave out a woohoo. Mr. G. then approached her. “Emma, that was great, you really got into the spirit.” “I just pied myself on national television. It was so much fun though. And the pie was absolutely yummy as well. How do I look?,” she said, jokingly as she posed. “I can honestly say that you have never looked better.” “Maybe I have invented a new look. I should go out in public someday with a face covered in pie. I wonder what people would say.” “Well, we can find out if you like,” Mr. G. said.” I said someday,” Emma laughed,” the whole world is going to see this anyway. So what’s next?,” she asked. She made no attempt the whole time to clean any of the pie from her face.
“I tell you what, should we watch that again in slow mo?,” Mr. G. asked. The audience cheered in approval. “I’m up for it,” Emma replied. With that a picture of what Emma looked like moments earlier appeared on the big screen. “If I can turn your attention to the big screens behind you,” Mr. G. said. “That is what you looked like a few minutes ago.” Emma put her fist to her chin, watching intently. “Hmmm, I see,” she said. “An now if we watch the events as they unfold.” Emma watched herself thrust the pie into her face in slow motion on the screen she laughed as the pie hit her face and as she was pied. “And there you are all creamed,” Mr. G. said. “I look just elegant don’t I?,” Emma joked. “And we can then watch this over and over again,” Mr. G. said. The footage was rewound and Emma was shown pieing herself over and over again. She laughed at herself and pointed. The screen then switched to a live close up of Emma. It was then paused. “And this is what you look like right now,” Mr. G. said. “Come on, I look great don’t I?,” she joked. She was still holding the pie tin. “Let me take that from you,” Mr. G. said. He took it from her hands. They looked at each other. He then placed the pie tin on top of Emma’s head like a hat. “There you go,” he said. “I thank you kindly,” Emma said. She posed with the tin on her head. “I don’t think I ever looked this good before,” she said.
“So, what do we have next for you, you may be asking yourself, and even if you are not, we are about to show you anyway,” Mr. G. said. “Gee, thanks,” Emma replied with a laugh. “If I direct your attention to this side of the stage,” he said. He took her hand again and they jogged to the other side of the stage. He revealed that there was a tall sort of tank for someone stand in. At the top was a large amount of gunge. Attached to it was a cord. “So, Emma, if you can stand right here.” He showed her the spot to stand on. “If you look up you may notice a rather large amount of green gunge perched above you. You may also notice a long cord to your right. Well, what will happen is very simple. In a minute, you will pull the cord and that will release everything that is above you all over your body. We are going to let you do the honours yourself. It will be you sending the gunge down on yourself. How does that sound?,” he asked. “That sounds marvellous,” she said. “Are you sure?,” he asked. “Yeah, I reckon that I can handle it,” she replied. The crowd cheered for her. “Well, ok then. I will stand over here and when you are ready, have at it.” Emma laughed. Emma then spurred the crowd on. She started everyone chanting, ”Gunge, gunge,gunge” “I love gunge,” she shouted. With that, Emma yanked down on the cord with all of her force. She scrunched up her neck. It took a second for the gunge to start to fall. She began to look up as the thick green gunge began to pour down from the tank. It slowly trickled at first onto her head and down her face. She closed her eyes as her nose and eyes were hit by trickles of gunge. After that an ocean of gunge gave way and covered her. All at once she was covered in slimy gunge. She stood still and fidgeted as the gunge continued to pour down over her. She wiggled her head, which, in reality, actually only served to get her even messier. It was like she was in the shower, but getting gunge sprayed over her rather than water. She was totally covered in gunge now. Her whole head was covered in it. Eventually the gunge slowed to s atop as it was emptied onto her. Eventually only occasional drips fell on her from above. Emma ran her fingers through her messy her. She laughed. She pulled out the front of her t-shirt with her fingers, displaying the portion that read I love gunge. She pointed to her chest. She playfully blew gungey kisses. Mr. G. walked over to Emma. “Did you enjoy that?,” he asked. “Oh yeah, loved it,” she said,” I am definitely going to have to do this more often. You will have to tell me where you get this stuff made,” she said.
“Well, Emma, you have been gunged and you have been pied,” Mr. G said,” Now we have some lovely, specially made food for you.” “Yummy,” Emma replied,” Only I suspect I will be wearing it and not eating it,” she said. “Well, yes, that is true,” Mr. G. responded. She smiled. “I suspected as much,” Emma said. “You looked a bit hungry, so we thought that we would provide you with a free lunch. Don’t say that we never gave you anything,” Mr. G. joked. “ That is great, I am absolutely famished,” Emma jokingly replied. At that point a table on wheels was wheeled out from backstage and placed in front of Emma and Mr. G. The crowd applauded as it was brought out. “Ok then let’s see what we have in store for you today, Emma,” Mr. G. said.
The first item on the table was a gigantic shepherd’s pie. It was the size of the pie that was used for the pie pendulum on What Would You Do. It was about ten inches deep at least. “So, what we have here for you is a lovely shepherd’s pie. It is filled with lamb mince, onion, carrots, mushroom, peas in a lovely thick brown gravy and then covered with thick mashed potatoes and cheese. And doesn’t it look just delicious,” he said. Emma looked at it and smiled. “I am sure it is delicious. I am not going to be eating it though, am I? I am going to be wearing it. It doesn’t really matter how good it tastes does it.” She wiggled her head and weighed up her hands, making a funny face. They both just laughed. “Anyway, what is going to happen is that Emma is going to lower her face into the shepherd’s pie.” Emma just shook her head in agreement. She stood in back of the pie and placed her arms behind her back holding her hands together behind her back. Mr. G. pointed to her. She then lowered her head down into the shepherd’s pie. She pushed it down into the pie as far as it would go. As she pushed her head in, it pushed some of the mashed potato upwards and it piled onto the back of her head and her neck. She pushed her head downward into the shepherd’s pie. She held her head in place in the pie for several seconds. Finally she pulled her head out of the pie. She wiggled her head about as it was exiting. When her face emerged, it was covered in brown gravy and dripping with bits of meat, mash and vegetables. She shook her head and let some of the mash fall down her body. Mince flew from her mouth and nose. Her hair was covered in minced lamb covered in gravy. Much to everyone’s surprise, Emma then plunged both hands into the shepherd’s pie, taking two huge handfuls of it. She then smushed her hands onto her chest and rubbed it around on her clothes. She moaned and laughed. Mince fell from her forehead.
“Now, next for you we have a great big bucket of mushy peas, straight from the chip shop around the corner. How does that sound?,” he asked. “It sounds…very green,” Emma responded and then laughed. Mr. G. showed her the gloppy mushy peas. She fluttered her eye lashes. “I am such a lucky girl,” she joked. “I’ll have to help you this time, the bucket is very heavy for one person to lift over their head,” Mr. G. said. Emma and Mr. G. grabbed the bucket together, each at one end. They raised it in the air in front of Emma. They raised the bucket together. Emma shut her eyes. The bucket was raised in the air and then tipped. The mushy peas were light green and extremely sloppy. As the bucket was raised, the heavy green slop started to pour down Emma’s face and shoulders. It was then lifted higher, as it got lighter and more mushy peas poured onto her head. A cascade of mushy peas now poured over Emma’s head. It poured down her neck and onto her shoulders and chest. The top o her shirt was covered in it. It was quite heavy on her body. She quickly ran her hand across her eyes to wipe away some of the mess. Her whole head was now bright green with mushy peas. Large globs still fell from Emma’s nose and chin downward. “I don’t even really like mushy peas,” Emma squealed. She plopped her hands up and down in the messy mushy peas. “There is butter and all sorts in this stuff,” she said.
“Well, Emma, you have been a great sport today. You are just about as messy as you could possibly ever get. We have one more item for you today, as our grand finale,” Mr. G. said. “Aww, is that it?,” she joked.,” I could have done this all day. Well, what is it then? What have you got left for me?,” she asked. “Well Emma, what we have for you is a big surprise,” he said. “What we have prepared for you, Emma, is a lovely Sunday roast,” Mr. G. explained. “Sounds, delicious,” Emma said, wiping some mushy peas from her forehead. “What we have is a this nice big bucket and in this bucket is the contents of a Sunday roast. There is turkey, stuffing, potato, broccoli, swede, parsnips, peas, carrots, even some Yorkshire pudding bits. All in gravy with some lovely mint sauce in there as well. All mixed and stirred up just for you. How does that sound?,” he asked. “Well, if I was eating it, it would sound absolutely revolting. But since it is just getting poured over my head, it sounds absolutely wonderful,” she laughed. “ I have an idea. Should I dip my head into the bucket first. Would that be good?,” she asked. “Be my guest,” Mr. G. said.
The bucket was placed on the table in front of her. Emma put her finger to her bottom lip and gave a look, as if to say, should I? or shouldn’t I? She looked around and then downwards. She closed her eyes and pushed her head down into the bucket as far as she could, submerging her entire head. She looked as if she was bobbing for apples. She moved her head around a bit and then held it in place for a few seconds before coming up for air. When she removed her head, it was covered in gravy and mint sauce. Chunks of turkey and vegetables ran down her face. She coughed and sputtered. She took her two index fingers and cleared her eyes. She held her hands in front of her and laughed. She then pushed the bucket over to Mr. G. and said,” Go on, let me have it, why don’t you?” He picked up the bucket, still very heavy from the food that filled it. The crowd applauded. He lifted the bucket up and went behind Emma. She leaned forward a bit, bending her neck. She waited for him to start pouring the collected dog’s dinner over he head. She jumped a bit when she felt the slop fall onto the back of her neck. She shivered as she felt it pour. He then moved the bucket forward, aiming it at the top of Emma’s head. At first the watery bits at the top fell out, landing on her head and face. Then the larger chunks began falling on her. Although everything was collected in thick brown gravy, all of the individual foods were easily identifiable to the naked eye. The crowd delighted as vegetables, bits of meat, potato and bits of Yorkshire pudding made their way down Emma Watson’s face and then down her body. Some of the larger chunks stuck to her face and body. Others were so large and heavy that they fell off of her onto the table and floor, collecting in a sloppy puddle. For a second, Emma was barely visible under the onslaught of the Sunday lunch. The deluge seem to go on for ages. All that Emma could do was stand there and giggle as it poured onto her. Eventually, the entire Sunday lunch had been emptied onto Emma. The final bit that fell from the bottom was a large Yorkshire pudding glopped together with vegetables. It was stuck at the bottom of the bucket for a split second before falling and landing on top of Emma’s head. She just let it stay there for a minute, before the whole thing just took its natural course and fell from her onto the table with a splash. When the dust settled, Emma Watson was stood, rubbing her arms in the mess. She just smiled and gave a bemused look. “Hey, Emma, do you want to come around mine for Sunday lunch?,” Mr. G. joked. Emma laughed hysterically. She then gave a pensive look. “I will consider it,” she said in a sarcastic voice. She then gave a sarcastic laugh. She used her hands and played with some of the mess that had collected on the table.
“Emma Watson, ladies and gentlemen,” Mr. G. said. “Emma we can not thank you enough for visiting us and for being such a good sport, as you have been. You have been a real pleasure,” he said. “My pleasure,” Emma said,” Like the t-shirt says, I do love gunge. I can’t think of a better way to spend a Saturday night. I wish I could be here every week, but my schedule does not allow it. Keep up the good work. It has been such a laugh.” Emma and Mr. G. shook hands. As the show ended the camera came in on a close up of a messy Emma Watson. She smiled and waived at the camera. She then proudly displayed her t-shirt. Slow motion replays were then shown of her highlights during the credits.
