A stag party forfeit

[Rainwearmad]

The relentless drizzle seemed to mock Steve's already dismal mood. The queue for the 'Riptide Plunge' at "Aqua-Mania" snaked before him, a shimmering, watery avenue of impending doom. He was trapped, a lamb being led to the slaughter, all thanks to Dave and his twisted sense of humor. A stag do forfeit – the theme park, this ride, the whole humiliating experience – was designed to prey on Steve's well-documented aversion to getting utterly drenched.

He shuddered, pulling his collar tighter. He could feel the cold seep into his bones. He just wanted this to be over.

Ahead of him, the atmosphere was decidedly different. A group of girls, radiating youthful energy and laughter, filled the air with their chatter. University students, he guessed, judging by their brightly coloured hoodies and the sheer volume of their voices. He tried to ignore them, focusing instead on the mechanical roar of the approaching ride, each surge of water confirming his worst fears.

"Oh my god, I'm so excited!" one of the girls, a blonde with a cascade of curls, exclaimed. "But I really don't want to get my hair ruined."

"Don't worry, Belinda," another girl, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, replied. "We've got you covered. Literally."

Steve sighed inwardly. Great. Just what he needed – bubbly enthusiasm and meticulously planned waterproof strategies highlighting his own lack of preparation.

The queue shuffled forward, bringing him closer to the group. He desperately wished he could just melt into the ground.

"You look a bit…green," a girl with fiery red hair noticed, turning to him with a concerned expression. "Are you alright?"

He mumbled something incoherent, hoping they would just leave him alone.

"He looks terrified!" another chimed in, her voice laced with amusement. "Are you scared of getting wet?"

He couldn't deny it. "It's… a forfeit," he admitted, cringing. "I really, really don't want to get soaked."

The girls exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from amusement to something akin to sympathy. "A forfeit? Seriously?" the redhead, who he now knew was called Hayley, asked incredulously. "That's harsh!"

"We have some spare rain gear," Belinda offered, her earlier concern about her hair seemingly forgotten. "We brought loads. We could lend you some."

Steve stared at her, dumbfounded. "Really? You'd do that?" He couldn’t believe his luck. A potential lifeline in this watery abyss.

"Of course!" another girl, Kate, with kind eyes and a warm smile, said. "We wouldn't want you to suffer. It wouldn't be fair!"

And just like that, his impending doom began to transform into something…almost bearable.

The queue continued to inch forward, and the girls, true to their word, began their rescue operation. From a brightly coloured backpack, they produced a bewildering array of waterproof clothing.

"Okay, first things first," Denise, a girl with practical short hair, announced, brandishing a bright yellow raincoat. "This should keep your torso dry." She helped him slip it on, meticulously fastening the poppers and zipping it up to his chin.

"Now for the legs," Jenny, a petite girl with a surprisingly forceful personality, declared, pulling out a pair of over-trousers. "These are a bit big, but they'll do the trick." He awkwardly stepped into them, feeling like a toddler being dressed by a well-meaning but overzealous parent. Jenny tightened the drawstrings at the waist, ensuring a snug (if slightly ridiculous) fit.

Next came the headwear. Hayley produced a bright blue sou'wester, complete with ear flaps. "This will protect your face," she said, positioning it carefully on his head. "Though you might look like a fisherman who's lost his way."

He couldn't help but chuckle. He probably did look ridiculous. But he was also starting to feel a sense of… hope?

Cassie, a quiet girl who had been observing the transformation with a smile, stepped forward with a cagoule in a vibrant shade of green. "For extra protection," she explained, pulling it over his head. "It's got a drawstring to tighten around your face."

Lorraine, the last of the group, and seemingly the most organised, produced a pair of bright orange wellies. "These are a must," she stated emphatically. "You don't want soggy socks!"

He reluctantly swapped his trainers for the wellies, feeling increasingly like a heavily armored (and brightly coloured) knight preparing for battle.

As they worked, the girls were meticulous, ensuring every zip was fastened, every drawstring tightened, every popper secured. They were a well-oiled machine, driven by a shared desire to save him from a soaking.

He felt a strange mix of embarrassment and gratitude. He was a grown man, being dressed like a child by a group of university students. But he couldn't deny the overwhelming sense of relief that washed over him. He was going to survive this. He was going to stay (relatively) dry.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they reached the front of the queue. The girls, having finished their transformation of Steve, began to don their own rain gear, revealing an equally colourful array of waterproof clothing.

"Right, are we all ready for the plunge?" Belinda asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Steve, encased in his borrowed armour, managed a weak smile. "As ready as I'll ever be," he mumbled.

They were ushered into the ride vehicle, a brightly coloured raft designed to plunge down a steep, watery slope. The safety bars were lowered, trapping them in their seats.

Steve's heart hammered against his ribs. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for the inevitable. He felt a hand slip into his. He opened his eyes to see Kate smiling reassuringly at him. "It'll be okay," she said. "We're all in this together."

He gripped her hand tightly, and then felt another hand grasp his other side. He looked to see Hayley offering a reassuring smile.

The ride lurched forward, climbing slowly but inexorably towards the summit. Steve squeezed his eyes shut again.

Then, with a deafening roar, they plunged downwards. A wall of water crashed over them, engulfing the raft in a cold, relentless deluge. Steve screamed, a primal sound of fear and exhilaration.

The ride was a blur of twists, turns, and watery assaults. Each plunge brought a fresh onslaught of icy water, testing the limits of his borrowed rain gear. Despite his best efforts, he could feel the dampness seeping in, a cold reminder of his impending doom.

Finally, the ride slowed, grinding to a halt back at the loading platform. They were still secured in the vehicle, dripping and breathless.

"Well, that was… refreshing," Belinda said, trying to smooth down her damp hair.

Steve, still reeling from the experience, managed a weak nod. He was wet, but not as soaked as he had feared. The rain gear had done its job. He owed these girls everything.

But then, Lorraine spoke, her voice laced with mischief. "Right, Steve," she said, "time for the final part of your forfeit."

He looked at her, confused. "Final part? What do you mean?"

The girls exchanged knowing glances, their smiles widening.

"Well," Hayley explained, "part of your forfeit was to take a cream pie in the face from each of us."

Steve stared at them, his jaw dropping. "A cream pie? You're kidding, right?"

"Nope," Denise said, popping the 'p'. "That's why we're all wearing rain gear. We didn't want to get covered in cream!"

Before he could protest, Belinda produced a tray of cream pies from under her seat. Steve watched in horror as the girls each grabbed one, their eyes gleaming with anticipation.

He tried to wriggle free, but the safety bars held him firmly in place. He was trapped.

And then, the onslaught began. One by one, the girls took aim and hurled their pies at his face. Cream splattered everywhere, coating his hair, his clothes, and every exposed inch of his skin.

He sputtered and coughed, the sweet, sticky cream filling his mouth and nostrils. He could hear the girls laughing, their voices echoing around him.

It was humiliating, ridiculous, and utterly absurd. But as he sat there, covered in cream, something inside him shifted. He started to laugh too, a shaky, incredulous laugh that gradually grew louder and louder.

He looked at the girls, their faces smeared with cream and their eyes filled with mirth. They had turned his worst nightmare into a bizarre, unforgettable experience.

"Okay, okay, you win!" he gasped, wiping the cream from his eyes. "I surrender!"

"Not so fast," Kate said, grabbing another pie. "You still have to ride it again to wash all that cream off!"

And so, covered in cream and still encased in his borrowed rain gear, Steve found himself back in the queue for the Riptide Plunge, surrounded by a group of laughing university students who had somehow managed to turn his stag do forfeit into the most fun he'd had in years. As he climbed back into the ride, he couldn’t help but smile. After all, how bad could it be? He was already covered in cream and dressed for the occasion. Maybe getting soaked wasn't so bad after all, especially when you have a group of amazing friends to share it with.

When the ride finished the second time, a mixture of water and cream covered him, but this time the girls were cheering him more as friends. He'd gone from a terrified stag party attendee to being an honourary member of their crazy group.

[hotwilly]

Sounds good fun