Love: A Messy Business (8 page)

“Hang on a second, though - why didn’t you just tell me all of that in the first place instead of dropping all of this on me at the last minute?  I was under the impression that we were going out on our original date, but just a day earlier.”  Colin hung his head for a second or two, and then lifted it to look at Kate.

“Yes, I know.  I should have been more upfront about it, but I was afraid you would turn me down.  I really am sorry about that.”

“Why on earth would you be worried that I would turn you down?  I’m happy to help out a friend you know, especially if there’s some money involved.”

“Well, you don’t know what I need you to do yet! It’s a little…off-piste, to say the least.”

“Well, out with it, then!  Does it require being well-dressed?  Is that why you asked me to put my best togs on?”

“Oh, absolutely – that was a very firm stipulation that was made by Mr Fukui – that’s the name of the client – that the model must be wearing fashionable and attractive clothing.” 

“Model?  You want me to do some modelling? What type of modelling?  This isn’t porn, is it?  Because if it is…”  Worried that Kate was going to walk out there and then, Colin waved his arms violently to make it very clear that this was most definitely not.

“No, no, this is not porn, I can assure you.  There is absolutely no nudity required for this.  You will remain fully, or at least partially, clothed throughout.  There may be some need to take off a couple of items of clothing, but no more than that.  You have my word.”  Kate seemed to relax a little bit after hearing that assurance, although no-one could have blamed her for not taking what was said completely at face value.

“OK…so…if it’s not porn, then what the hell is it?”

“Come upstairs and I will show you – that’s probably the best way of explaining this.”

Kate stood up, and drained the remainder of the large glass of wine that she had only been given a few minutes ago and, without really realizing, had quaffed in record time.  It was very good wine though. 

It was with quite an amount of trepidation that Kate followed Colin up the stairs.  She recalled very well what had been in those two rooms she had explored, but she could not link them to what was happening now.  Colin led her to the first room which she had entered last night, the empty one.  It wasn’t empty anymore.

Colin stood there for a few seconds, saying absolutely nothing, but closely watching the expression on Kate’s face as her brain tried to process what her eyes were seeing.  The first thing she saw was a chair.  A white, plastic chair that looked very much like it was part of a cheap patio set that you could get from Asda.  It was in the centre of the room.  In front of it was a tripod, on which was set a camera – not a real camera, but a webcam one.  It was hooked up to a laptop, which was resting on another white chair with the lid open so that the screen was facing the chair.  Behind the laptop chair, and to the sides, were lighting stands.

But it was what was behind the chair that really caught Kate’s attention.  There were two long tables, end to end, which almost took up the entire wall.  On it was some food, masses and masses of food.   Every item was replicated in at least triplicate and there were piles of some tins as though this was part of shooting gallery.  Kate found herself drawn to the table to take a closer look.   There were tins of custard, of course, but also tins of various kinds of soup, squirty cream, a large bag of flour, a jar of coffee, toffee sauce, three bowls of what looked like slime, tomato ketchup and mushy peas respectively, and a small tube of glitter.  There was other stuff as well, but Kate could only process so much information in one go.

She turned to look at Colin with a very puzzled look on her face.  “I don’t understand.  What is all this food for?”  Colin had an indecipherable expression, somewhere between excitement and trepidation.

“Haven’t you guessed?  This room is a photographic and video studio.  Over there is a webcam set-up for a live performance and on this table are the props.”

“Props?” replied Kate, wondering if that glass of wine had completely dulled her senses.

“That’s right.  It’s very simple.  You can’t go wrong…all you need to do is sit down on that white chair and I pour the contents of that table all over you, one–by-one. 

Kate looked at Colin as if he had gone absolutely bonkers. “You’ll do what? All that stuff?  That’s disgusting.  And it would mess up these clothes and these boots, they’re not cheap you know.”

“I do realise that, but that’s all part of the fun.”

“Fun? Where’s the fun in that?  It’s just plain weird to me, and probably a bit perverted.  And not to mention a total waste of perfectly good food.”

“Well, it may surprise you to know that there are quite a lot of people who enjoy this sort of thing – either getting messy themselves, getting others messy or watching them get messy – like our friend Mr Fukui for example.   In fact, there is a whole community of people online who are really into it.  It’s completely harmless.”

“And you are really into this, I suppose?” Colin’s face went slightly red at this point.  Understandably, he never found it an easy thing to tell people about this, although he hadn’t exactly done so a lot of times.  It wasn’t the sort of thing that could easily be discussed at a party or in a group of friends. 

“So Colin, what are you doing this weekend?

“Well, as a matter of fact, I’m going to spend most of it pouring large quantities of assorted foodstuffs over the heads of attractive women.  I might even try a bit of mud wrestling with one of them if the mood takes me.

Oh, right.  Err…OK.  Well…have a nice time… (cue hurried and simultaneous ending of conversation and friendship)

But there was no point hiding it now.

“Yeah, Kate, I’m really into it and have been for years.  It’s part of who I am and I’ve gradually come to accept and embrace it.”

“Wow, sorry, it’s just a bit hard to get my head around this.   So you’re saying that you really enjoy doing this and your job is basically pouring food over women?”

“That’s a pretty fair summary!  And I usually take video or stills to capture it or, in this case, a webcam.

“And people pay you to access what you produce, I assume?”

“Yep, that’s where I make a good chunk of my money – it’s all online these days.  But I’ve got big expansion plans as well.

“Oh right, dare I ask what?”  Kate could hardly believe that she was having a conversation about this.

“Well, one of the reasons I’ve bought this place is to be able to have equipment set up all the time and have other photographers and models come, as well as the customers so that they can watch or join in if they like.

“Well, as my dad always likes to say “there’s nowt so funny as folk.”  Kate shook her head in a mixture of disgust and amazement.  “I just don’t get the attraction.”

“Well, to be honest,” said Colin, checking his watch, “you don’t need to get it just at the moment.  All that’s needed now, please, is your agreement to participate.  Maybe it will be a case of learning by doing?  In any event, I’d appreciate if you’d make a decision very soon as the webcast is scheduled to start in just under fifteen minutes. And….just so you know...if I cannot provide this shoot tonight then Mr Fukui will probably claim breach of contract and sue the pants off me.  He’s a very powerful man – very generous when things are done how and when he likes them, but he has a reputation by all accounts of taking people to the cleaners (no pun intended) if they disappoint him.  No pressure, or anything, but you’ve no idea how much I would appreciate your help tonight.”

Kate looked at Colin, who looked back at her with imploring eyes.  Those eyes were so persuasive that Kate had to avert her gaze from them and think this through.  This was like a dream, or was it a nightmare?  Was this really happening to her?  Was she seriously considering allowing herself to be turned into a disgusting mess and have all her best clothes completely ruined?  Was she prepared to allow this simply as a favour for a friend, or was it because she fancied Colin and didn’t want to scupper any chance of a future relationship by letting him down?  Had her self-esteem and self-respect sunk to such a low level?

No!  No, it hadn’t.  For some reason, that thought made her feel quite good about herself.  Now the more she thought about it, the more she became convinced that she was not going to go through with it.  This was ridiculous.  Colin had no right to ask her to do this, never mind expect her to do it. And he had no right to get her there under false pretences in the first place.  She was all for trying to be helpful, and she was very sorry that Colin might have gotten into a tricky spot - but that wasn’t her fault at all and had nothing really to do with her.  There had to be a limit to doing a good turn, didn’t there?  Her mind was made up and there was nothing on earth that could possibly force her to change her mind.

“Colin…” began Kate.  But she got no further before Colin interrupted.

“I’ll pay you two thousand pounds.”

Kate paused, completely frozen with shock.

“I said – I’ll pay you two…thousand…pounds!”  Colin said the words slower this time to make sure that Kate had heard him.

“I heard you the first time.  Two thousand quid? You’re having me on!”

“No, I am not!  I told you I was prepared to pay you, and I am.  Now, I wasn’t planning to pay Sophie, the original model, anything close to that, but this is an emergency.  As I told you, Mr Fukui is a very wealthy man – so in the circumstances I am more than happy to split the fee 50-50 with you.”

Kate had never been the strongest at sums, but even she could make the calculation. “So Mr Fuktuti or whatever his name is, is paying you FOUR THOUSAND QUID to watch you pour food over someone?” Colin nodded.

“I’m in the wrong business, aren’t I?”  Colin shrugged with a knowing smile as if to indicate to her that perhaps this enterprise wasn’t as bad an idea as she had originally thought.

Kate just could not get the sum of two thousand pounds out of her mind.  That was a thousand pounds an hour.  That amount of money would clear the arrears of her student debt and pay the next eight or nine months of payments as well!  This was virtually free money.  And really, how bad could this really turn out to be?  It was bound to be a bit yucky and probably very smelly, but nothing that a good long shower or a soak in the bath couldn’t fix.  If she looked at this as dispassionately as possible – and as a sensible (albeit unusual) business transaction – then her head had to rule her heart on this one.

“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’?