“Positions everyone!” The voice of a particularly thickly Welsh-accented stagehand cut across the cacophony of chaos as the crew put their finishing touches to the new Get Your Own Back set. “We’re going to be rolling now in a minute and Mr. Benson-Phillips won’t like it if we’re looking like amateur hour!” said the woman, her pale face contorting into a bit of a grimace.

From behind the Welshwoman came a bellowing laugh. “Nat, Nat, Nat! I’ve been doing this show in various forms for decades, from the TV studios in London to student unions and tiny theatres, and you’re doing just fine!” It was none other than Mr. Benson-Phillips himself, dressed in his usually gaudy-dapper mix – a loud violet shirt, black trousers and dress shoes, all of which just hung onto his larger frame. “And if I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times: call me Dave!”

“Sorry Mist–Dave…” Nat took a deep breath and flicked one of her blue locks from her face. “It’s just the first game’s inflatables aren’t quite up yet, we haven’t seen Nicki in hours and we’re still working out a way for the lilo bit to work.”

“The lilo bit?” Dave repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Nat nodded. “Yeah, the writing team and I came up with this great opening with Nicki floating on the top of the Gunk Dunk on a lilo, but so far nobody’s figured out a way of getting anyone on it without them falling in.”

“Ah, so I take it Nicki’s been cleaning herself up?”

“Not exactly…” said Nat, gesturing to one of her colleagues. It was a fairly young woman, rather petite and covered head to toe in lime green and purple sludge. She was dressed in some jeggings and what might at one point been a white polo shirt, her feet bare. It was hard to tell because of the gunge, but it seemed like she may have been blonde before her spill into the swill, though quite what style she kept her long and sludgy hair in was difficult to tell now. She was leaving a trail of drops and sludgy footprints as she walked past, staring daggers at Nat and Dave. “Poor Liz. That trooper deserves a pay raise!”

“At least you don’t seem to be skimping on the gunge budget!” Dave chuckled. “Anyway, why don’t I get the contestants from the green room and you look for Nicki in her dressing room?”

Nat nodded. “On it!”