Adventures With Helmuth: The Empire’s Next Top Model

The crowd around the catwalk buzzed with excitement. The curtains at the back end opened and flashy techno music started playing. Cameras started flashing as Helmuth stepped out. He stomped down the catwalk, a red dress pulled tight over his hairy chest and prominent beer gut, a pair of broken stiletto heels clenched in his left fist. He reached the end of the catwalk, his face dour. He turned to the camera, raised his arm, and gave it the finger.



“What do you mean I can’t wear this?”

Helmuth stood a good foot over the makeup artist. The smell of his booze sweat was almost visibly streaming from his soiled plate armour.

“What if I get in a fight?”

The make-up artist shook his head.

“You won’t need it.”

“What if it is a beastman? With an axe?”

The makeup artist raised his eyebrows.

“What about robot space pirates? Plague zombies?”

Helmuth slumped his shoulders and his tone grew more dejected.

“Angry harpies?”

The makeup artist scratched the inside of his elbow and looked over at the camera. Helmuth sighed.

“Bloody hell.”

He started to undo the straps on his armour.

“We could be here for a while ladies.”


Helmuth sat in front of the camera in his underwear. He scratched his head.

“Yeah this is definitely the most retarded thing I have done.”

He laughed.

“And I once got plastered and made out with a goat!”

The camera-man cleared his throat. Helmuth scratched his head again.

“Yeah… Maybe don’t air that bit.”


“Alright Helmuth, for this shoot you are a sexy Russian spy.”


“You will be wearing this.”

“No I won’t.”

“Yes you will.”

“Bloody hell. Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Helmuth stepped out of the dressing room. The red leather bodysuit he was wearing was split at the crotch. He shrugged at the camera-man.

“I had to make an adjustment.”

Helmuth tried to pose.

“What are you doing?”

“Striking a sexy pose, what does it bloody look like?”

“Why is your arm like that?”

Helmuth’s arm was stretched out in front of him, his hairy hand cupped.

“It’s my sexy pose. This is guaranteed to get me a lay.”

“How so?”

“Well normally my hand has gold in it. Har Har.”

“Get out of here.”


Helmuth stood with his huge arms folded, a lopsided smirk on his face. A pale, skinny girl with flowing brown hair stood in front of him with her hands on her hips.

“You ain’t got what it takes to be a model.”

“Yeah, you think?”

“You’re ugly.”



“Sure, why not?”

“And fat.”

Helmuth unfolded his arms and frowned.

“You take that last bit back. This is relaxed muscle.”

The girl laughed in his face. Helmuth spoke.

“You know what? I have seen better personalities on a Minotaur. Out of my way lady, I need a drink. If I have to listen to you screech one more second I’m going to fall on my sword.”

Helmuth pushed his way past her to the house’s fridge and pulled out a vodka cruiser. He bit the cap off and took a swig. His face screwed up.

“Taal’s tits! Who the hell drinks this shit? It’s bright blue and tastes like Tzeentch’s cock.”

He downed the rest of the bottle.


The girls lined up for elimination, Helmuth at the back towering over them. One by one the girls got called out by Jhodi and put through to the next round. Eventually only Helmuth and Emma were left. They stepped up to the front. Jhodi turned to Helmuth.

“Helmuth ever since you entered this competition we could tell you didn’t have the right attitude.”

Helmuth folded his arms.

“No shit.”

“You turned up drunk to the first photo shoot…”

“At least I didn’t turn up vapid and horrible.”

“You told Alex Perry that you slept with his mother…”

“He should be used to that har har.”

“And you beat up one of the makeup artists while screaming that he was possessed by a demon.”

“He had pink hair and purple lips! It is the mark of Slaanesh!”

“For these and many more reasons, you will not be Australia’s Next Top Model.”

“Thank fuck.”

Helmuth turned and stomped away. He stepped up to the camera, his chest blocking its view of the room.

“Know where the nearest bar is?”


Helmuth sat on the bed in front of the camera, adjusting the fit of his plate armour. He looked up.

“We are never letting your little sister run a campaign again.”

He buckled one of the shoulder straps and picked up his helmet. Then his shoulders slumped and he sighed. He rubbed his forehead and then looked at the camera.

“I don’t know… I just… I just can’t believe I got eliminated before Emma.”

He put on his helmet, closed the visor and walked out of the room.

(First poster gets to pick the setting of the next adventure!)

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3 thoughts on “Adventures With Helmuth: The Empire’s Next Top Model

  1. deanman89 says:

    A friends’ friends’ party, where he knows nobody. The friend that invited him along has disappeared.

  2. This Is Absolutely My Actual Name And Not Something I Made Up On The Spot says:

    This is amazing.

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