Lauren Laverne short story
Lauren Laverne was invited to take part in a special quiz that involved questions about music. She thought of herself as somewhat of an expert, so she thought that this would be a great opportunity to show off. She was really looking forward to it. There was a slight caveat to the whole thing, however, she would be answering questions, but it would be against a clock. She also would be sat in a gunge tank. There would be multi-coloured gunge above her head. If she was unable to answer 10 questions in the time allotted, the gunge would be released from above her head. She had seen people such as Sara Cox and Fearne Cotton get covered in gunge in the past, but always took herself far too seriously to ever imagine herself in a similar situation. On this day, that was exactly where she found herself.
There she sat in a white and green floral blouse and a black skirt looking very nervous, giggling. She was a very intelligent person, with a lot of knowledge, o she was still very confident that she would win. On top of the time and the pressure, was the fact that the other people in the studio were going to be trying everything that they could to break her concentration. They would be making noise and doing silly thing to interrupt her train of thought. It was not as easy as it looked. Also, the producers took a lot of time picking very obscure and difficult questions for her to answer.
As the time started, the people began to shoot silly string around. They then dance and began to sing. They blew air horns and whistles. It was impossible for her to concentrate or to hear what was going on. There was chaos in the studio. She laughed and told them to shut up. She still was doing quite well at first, but the questions began to increase in difficulty as they went along. Before she knew it, the buzzer rang, denoting that the time was up.
She looked up as a tidal wave of pink gunge began to rain down all over. She laughed as the slimy mess poured down her blonde hair and down onto her face and shoulders. It splattered its way down her shirt and then onto her skirt and down her legs and heels. Gunge dipped from her face and body. She was soon covered in it, nearly from head to toe. She shouted that they could not do this to her, she was a respected journalist. Now she was a respected journalist who was dripping in gunge.
She ran her hands through her sloppy hair and smiled. She gave a wave and then two thumbs up. She could not believe that she was finally placed in a gunge tank like this. All of her colleagues sent her messages saying that it was about time and that she deserved it.
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