Melanie's Ninety Minute Nightmare

While her friends were in the relative safety and privacy of the two teams dressing rooms, Melanie was led over to pitch side by a club official. This was just about the last place she wanted to be - she didn't even like football, and if she had a team it wouldn't be either of these but the modest lower league side from the quiet country area where she grew up.

She was given a Chelsea cap and scarf to wear, the latter of which she had to be careful to drape over her body in a way that didn't cover her nipples so it didn't disappear. She tried to put out of her mind the literal hundreds of millions of people who would be watching the game worldwide but who she at least couldn't see. However, there was nothing she could do to block out the forty thousand people in the stadium.

What felt most unsettling to her was that, due to the new found success of her show, the crowd seemed to knew exactly who she was. They were singing songs about her. Literal songs. "Melanie Jones is one of our own", "We all love Mel's minge, we do","Clap your hands if you've shagged Mel Jones" and "Mel's arse is fire". They were all supposed to be affectionate or complimentary, but that didn't make her feel any less unsettled.

As the game began, she found herself having to work up the crowd alongside the Chelsea mascot, a man in a lion costume. She really wasn't in the mood. She did the best she could manage, turning and waving and forcing a smile every now and then, but the cacophony of cat calls ans wolf whistles she received every time she did was unbearable. Mel at least consoled herself with the thought that the cameras would be focused on the action on the pitch and not the sidelines. That was until about twenty minutes into the game when the ball flew out of play and almost hit her. One of the Chelsea players, who she recognised but didn't know the name of, winked at her as he came to retrieve it and throw it back onto the pitch. That had definitely made the TV, she thought to herself.

Around half an hour into the game, Chelsea scored. It felt like Melanie was in the middle of an earthquake as the crowd erupted. Some of the fans spilled over onto the pitch side and made a beeline to mob and hug Mel. Again, it was all very friendly and affectionate, but the last thing she wanted. Then the real nightmare moment approached. A Chelsea official came over and led Melanie to the dugout, where the two teams coaches and substitutes were assembled. She was stood between them and given a board to hold, which was heavier than it looked.

The dreaded moment came. The referee gestured for Mel to hold up the board, which had a number four on it to indicate how many minutes of injury time would be played. Melanie lifted it above her head. She knew this was the moment that, without doubt, three hundred million pairs of eyes around the globe would be watching her. She didn't smile - she wasn't a ring girl and the officials never did when they held the board up so she didn't see why she should. But she couldn't help but think just how many people were watching this. She thought of all the people in Australia. China, Nigeria, Germany, Argentina and just about every other corner of the globe who would be seeing her naked body right now. At least the moment was relatively brief, but her afternoon was relentless.

At half time, she was led onto the centre of the pitch, where she had to greet various club sponsors and read out birthday messages to season ticket holders. She then had to take part in a charity penalty shoot out competition against one of Chelsea's former goalkeepers. It was one of the most embarrassing moments of the day, which was saying something. Melanie was useless at football, and trying to kick a hard leather ball with her bare feet was not easy. The PA affectionately mocked her efforts and the crowd cheered her ironically as every one of her shots trickled slowly towards the keeper to be easily gathered up. She then had to endure slow motion replays of her failed attempts on the giant screen at the end of the ground.Thankfully, at the end it was announced that the money would be donated to charity anyway, so at least she didn't have to feel bad about that.

Then she was back to the pitch side for more crowd work with the stupid lion. About ten minutes into the second half Palace equalised. It was probably the high point of Melanie's afternoon. The crowd quietened down for a while and her life became a little easier. Then, a few minutes from the end of the game, Chelsea scored again. This time, the crowd went even more wild than before. A group of delirious Chelsea players made a beeline for Mel and mobbed her affectionately, one of them giving her a cheeky pat on the bum. That was another moment that would definitely make the TV highlights, she thought to herself.

Finally, Mel was dragged off to do the minute board again. This time she held up an eight, which resulted in boos from the crowd, who wanted the game they were currently winning to end as soon as possible. Chelsea held on for the three points, and Melanie was taken away for her final task of the afternoon, to award the Man of the Match trophy to Chelsea's Moises Caciedo. Thankfully, he turned out to be a gentleman who avoided ogling her and shook her hand respectfully as she passed him his award. The nightmare was over.

"You were amazing, Melanie!" the official told her enthusiastically as he finally led her from the pitch that had been her own personal Hell for nearly two hours "The fans adored you and the reaction online has been incredible. I'll take you back to your friends"

Melanie couldn't believe what she had just done. When she signed the Naked Mansion contract she had assumed the promotional duties would be split evenly between all 22 glitches, not that she would always be chosen for everything. She would need to speak to Lucy once she got back to the mansion and see if there was any way to lessen the burden on her. This had been a worse experience than most of the jobs she had been sent to on Rebecca's app.