Next time I write a story, I'm sticking with Chapter 1, Chapter 2...because this is getting ridiculous and I have given up on titles XD

They were back in their seats and incredibly nervous. These challenges seemed to be getting more intense. Or maybe it just felt that way because they'd all gotten hit in the nuts and that was probably the worst thing that could happen to them.

So it could only get better, right?

Kurt would vehemently disagree when he saw the challenge they had lined up for him.

When Kurt got his card and Sam pulled the lever, the challenge to meet him was simply called Clay Face.

There was no way this was going to be a relaxing facial.

Soon a chair was wheeled to the middle of the floor. But it wasn't just a chair. It looked like…

Oh dear God.

It looked like a potter's wheel. With a chair glued on top.

A small table, laden with clay, and an artist's stool were brought out and placed next to it. Kurt's stomach dropped as he was motioned by one of the show's staff to go sit in the chair on the wheel.

"The contestant will be spun on a wheel while a potter throws a pot on his head."

His hair. His perfectly positioned hair, already ruffled by a knight helmet and carefully put back into place between challenges, was going to be smothered with clay.

Why was this his challenge? They had to pick someone who actually cared! This game was rigged.

The staff member was waving more frantically. The others were trying not to chuckle, but the background guy and the look on Kurt's face were too much for them to handle. They tried to contain themselves as Kurt stalked to his seat and sat, crossing his arms and glowering at them. Probably to hide the intense misery of the situation.

Not long after he sat, an actor with an artiste motif waltzed in, complete with beret and stringy mustache. Kurt wanted to argue that it was more of a painter's stereotype than that of a potter, but there wouldn't be much of a point. Well, there would be. He wanted to delay the inevitable.

When the man walked out there were fresh giggles from the boys. Kurt looked so utterly disgusted...it was really funny.

Zero shouted for the game to start.

The man pressed the petal and Kurt started to spin.

He shut his eyes as soon as the wheel was put in motion, clutching the arm rests. Spinning rides had never been his forte. He hadn't gone on a ride like that since the tragedy with the Tilt-a-Whirl and his favorite cardigan in 5th grade. This felt about the same.

The others saw it all and it was amazing. Kurt gritted his teeth and the potter slathered clay onto his head, clearly with no intention of making a functional pot. Once the man had moved every bit of clay onto him, he didn't start throwing a pot right away. Kurt squirmed as unwelcome fingers ran through his hair, attempting to embed the clay into his roots.

That was when Kurt realized that a time limit hadn't been announced. How long would this go one for?!

He considered every bad thing that had happened to him in his entire life, debating if this was the worst.

Even if it wasn't, it was close.

After what felt like eternity, the fingers stopped digging into his skull and started to work on the pot. Kurt was starting to get dizzy at this point. He struggled to remember whether closed eyes made dizziness better or worse, but then some clay dripped into his left eye socket and the subject became non-debatable. He wasn't opening his eyes if clay was going to go flying. But if he threw up...

Sam was laughing so hard that he was miraculously silent. Finn was lightly covering his mouth, mostly to hide if Kurt opened his eyes. Kurt would be so pissed if he lost because of them. So much as a smile would probably set him off. Maybe they needed that constant fear to win this game. That's when Finn started secretly hoping Kurt would get the rest of the challenges, the few they had left. They'd definitely win then.

Mike was reaching to cover Puck's mouth out of fear, which Puck resented. He was being quiet enough, he was just hamming it up for the cameras, so he pushed Mike away before he could finish his action and Mike raised his hands in a surrendering gesture. He was doing pretty well keeping it together. This challenge reminded him of many slushie clean ups, so it wasn't striking him as very funny. Karofsky was also unfazed, remembering the same thing with guilt. The scene was all too familiar. He wasn't the one doing it this time, but all the same part of him wanted to stop the thing from turning and apologize.

None of them knew how much time had passed when a very small pot was finally made. The man stopped pushing the wheel and scooped up his creation, leaving a large amount of excess clay on Kurt's head and shirt. Finn knew he loved that shirt, too, that was why he wore it for TV. Hopefully clay washed out well, otherwise Kurt was going to hold a grudge. And he'd certainly hear all about it when they got home.

Mike started toward Sam, who was doubled over as his violent laughter started to produce sound, but he was stifling it himself, which was a relief. He raised his head to catch the guy going out the door, his tiny pot lifted aloft in victory, and a dazed Kurt trying to get out of the seat, only to fall backwards into it again. His entire upper body was splattered gray and Sam had to force himself to look away or he would really lose it.

Puck and Finn made a move to help, but Mike beat them there, leaving Sam to help Kurt stumble his way back to the team, completely turned around and miserable. Karofsky was grateful he did it, he didn't think Kurt would be happy with his help. He couldn't go up there in front of the others anyway. They'd misjudge it somehow. He'd either be threatening or weak and he didn't want to deal with a middle ground with these guys. It would be a lot easier if it was just him and Kurt. Even it it was, he knew he wouldn't have gone up there. He'd be overstepping.

"That...was entertaining. You win."

Entertaining? Kurt was dizzy and queasy. How much trouble would he get in if he threw his bit of sword from his first challenge or a glob of clay at the host?

At least he didn't feel like he was going to literally throw up anymore. His stomach was in knots, but holding up better than it used to. He was a huge mess, though. And his shirt...it was the shirt he'd worn on his first real date with Blaine and now it was completely annihilated. His favorite skinny jeans had splatters too. His hair... Every bit of this was miserable.

It wasn't the last challenge, but a crew member told Kurt he was allowed some time to clean up so he could continue play. Kurt nodded graciously, only one eye open, and quickly asked if they had showers. The woman led him away.

"That was brutal," Mike commented as he walked off set. They'd all been allowed a break since they needed Kurt for the challenges, but having nothing to do, they sat around their table. The others, all having dealt with their fair share of brutal challenges, eyed him scornfully. Mike looked away, as if scolded. "Just...bad memories is all I'm saying. I remember him getting slushie in his eyes before too. I remember getting it in my eyes. It was all I could think of."

None of the other glee guys had thought of that.

"I guess when you put it that way..." Finn started.

"Maybe a bit, yeah, but I have a feeling Kurt was more worried about his hair than anything," Sam responded with conviction, but a small chuckle managed to escape him. Kurt was only weak when it came to his appearance, so he couldn't believe he'd ever get down over past slushie trauma.

"He was a bad one for that. They should've pick me, I couldn't give a damn about my hair." Normally the boys would have found Puck's statement annoying, the whole I-could've-done-better schtick, but he wasn't implying anything like that. After all, Kurt had won them the challenge. He was saying it because he did feel a bit bad for him. And about Sam having to eat fish food and Finn running on hamster wheels and Mike propelling into bookshelves. Even Karofsky's wedgie seemed a bit far, because he remembered being an asshole himself and how he'd wound up locked in a port-a-potty. Although they'd all been hilarious at the time, at the end of the day he didn't want anyone to be unhappy.

The money. The money had to make this worth it.

Well, the laughter was pretty fun too.

"But I'm glad he stuck to his guns. How much do we have now?" he asked, instinctively turning to Mike. But the answer came from his left side.

"$4,100!" Sam said, holding up a little scrap of paper and pencil he must have found in his pockets. "I've been keeping track for you," he said across the table to Mike, who kicked him under the table in return with a small smile.

"That's really good, guys!" Finn said enthusiastically. "That's almost enough for New York already!" This was awesome! They could maybe make it on that if Mr. Shue was tight with the budget or if they sold a few bags of taffy. Whatever they had to do, they were definitely going to make it to Nationals!

There were grins around (most of) the table. They all knew it too.

Karofsky just hoped this would get him out of the doghouse.

"Well let's keep winning so we get some extra cash too!" was Puck's rallying cry. The others cheered.

They settled into various degrees of excitement as they waited for Kurt's return, which only took another 5 minutes. The shortest shower of his entire life. And he had to put his clay-filled clothes back on. He was a presentable wreck and he loathed it.

No one commented on it, fearing a rage.

Once Kurt was seated, gameplay resumed. Cards were brought out once again and this time they chose Karofsky. He was apathetic. Nothing would be worse than his last solo challenge and the reminder carefully tucked into the back of his jeans.

Sam pulled. Mystery Door. Very ominous.

Karofsky was to stand in the middle of the room and a prop wall with a door in the center was brought out before him.

"The person must endure whatever is behind the door."

That was as vague as the title. They were certainly intent on keeping it a mystery.

Karofsky braced himself.

Without warning, the door flew open and out streamed…clowns. A handful of clowns. Touting oversized fish, rubber chickens, clown shoes and, the real indicator of what was coming…

They all had pies.

As soon as the clowns were released, Finn took a large step so he was behind Puck. He did not cower, but he wanted some space between them. He was glad this was not his challenge.

Puck noticed what he'd done immediately. "You scared of clowns?" he hissed, an evil grin spreading on his face.

"No, I just don't like them," Finn retorted defensively.

"I knew it," Puck replied, and left it at that. He'd made Finn watch IT when they were still in grade school and Finn got so freaked out afterward that he called his mom to pick him up instead of spending the night. He didn't know if the movie caused it or was just a part, but he knew this would come up again one day and he would be ready. Right now, though, he wanted to watch this.

Sam was already having trouble holding back laughter. The look on Karofsky's face, the wide-eyed horror, it was too funny! And the damn clowns! He'd always gotten a kick out of clowns. Mike nudged him with his elbow. He knew Sam would hate to be the reason they lost 800 bucks.

The clowns were circling Karofsky. He wouldn't have run anyway, but they weren't giving him a chance. They were getting really close and it was making him really uncomfortable.

One of the clowns, who had large tears and a massive frown painted on his face, smiled wide and launched the assault. Karofsky was hit with all they had. A pie hit him square in the face and a rubber chicken crashed into his shoulder. After that first pie, it was hard for him to know what was going on, they were moving fast and he had whipped cream in his eyes. Another pie smacked into his face and, this time, the tin didn't fall. He tried to reach up and move it, even though the cream left him essentially blind regardless, but the continued attacks made it impossible. He pulled himself into a defensive crouch but that was all he could muster.

As he was getting barraged, the other boys had their own problem. One of the clowns had gone rogue and was doing cartwheels and making faces just outside their reach. He probably wasn't supposed to be, it wasn't their challenge, but it seemed he decided on his own to be a true clown and make them laugh.

He was succeeding. Finn was hiding more suspiciously behind Puck and it was cracking him up, even though he tried to stop it. Sam was already on thin ice watching Karofsky, but the clown kept spouting dumb jokes, which were his Kryptonite. "When does it rain money? When there's a change in the weather!"

Mike was trying to shush him, not willing to attempt to cover mouths again, but it wasn't doing much. He tried to make faces, dance, distract the clown, but the clown had a captive audience and he wasn't going to give it up.

"Where do fish keep their money? In a riverbank!"

Kurt was rolling his eyes and looking sour, hoping to dissuade the clown from continuing. Did he only know money jokes? But the clown ignored him and Sam was already too far gone. The clown was eating it up.

"Where can you always find money? In the dictionary!"

Puck, quick as he could, moved to the side and then behind Finn, pushing him forward. Finn squealed like a small child and scuttled back to his spot, even ducking slightly which did absolutely no good. Puck couldn't help cracking up. It wouldn't be his fault, he knew Sam had secured a loss already. At least he got a little fun out of the deal.

Karofsky heard laughter and it really pissed him off. Was it that funny to see him so humiliated? He was standing his ground as best as he could and the whole thing, as ridiculous as it probably looked, was pretty painful. Yet he was going to lose because they couldn't keep their mouths shut!

Then the clown started doing impressions.

He felt like he was about to implode when the laughter got louder, but the attacks stopped. He heard them shuffling away. The pie tin had fallen a while back, but he still had to wipe the cream out of his eyes to see properly. The rogue clown was the last to leave, throwing a wink at Puck since Sam was doubled over and wouldn't notice. Puck shook his head.

"The crowd was too wild. You lose."

Karofsky gave Sam the evil eye, as he was the only one still trying to stifle giggles and rubbing tears of laughter from his eyes. Puck had been able to hold back besides his short outburst and Finn was cowering behind him, unwilling to look at anybody. Mike and Kurt seemed apologetic and annoyed. None of it, the jokes or the situation, had been funny, it wasn't worth a loss.

"Sorry," Sam choked out, but no one accepted the apology. Karofsky restrained himself as best he could, he wasn't going to pick a fight, and snatched the towel someone handed him to clean up. Apparently this didn't warrant a shower. They took their seats and waited for more cards.

When Sam kept laughing, Karofsky bent around Puck and threw his whipped cream soaked towel at him.

He smirked when he heard the satisfying smack of a semi-wet towel to the face.

That shut him up.