The B Factor: A special scent (Elimination #7)

In our seventh elimination round of The B Factor we asked you to answer the following question: Who smells best? 242 votes have been counted, and here are the results.

(The full, unredacted results of the elimination rounds will be published before the final episode of The B Factor.)

SAFE FOR NOW (in alphabetical order):
Chris Evans
Jake Gyllenhaal
Shawn Mendes
Tom Holland

THE BOTTOM TWO (in alphabetical order):

Timothee Chalamet
Zac Efron

AND THE LOSER IS:

Timothee Chalamet with 9% of the vote.

Wow! After last week's elimination of Taylor Lautner this is another surprise: Like Taylor, Timothee has never been in the Bottom Two so far. First time in the hot seat, and - BOOM! - there he goes.

Anyway, Timothee Chalamet is eliminated from The B Factor – and here’s his punishment.

***

A special scent

Featured in this story: Timothee Chalamet, Brandon and Cal (click for pictures)

“CHALAMET”, Timothee breathed into the camera with bedroom eyes. “CHALAMET”, he repeated, rolling onto his back and running his hands over his bare chest until they disappeared in his mesh briefs that only barely covered his generously proportioned genitalia. “CHALAMET.”

Timothee Chalamet, the up-and-coming Hollywood star who, at age 24, had already won more than a dozen critic’s awards and had been nominated for an Oscar and two Golden Globes, was lying on a literal bed of roses, half-naked, wearing only said mesh briefs that didn’t really hide anything. He was a handsome young man, oozing charisma and sex appeal, and a perfume was very much on-brand. CHALAMET was the name of the fragrance, and he was in the middle of filming the main marketing video. The video feed was broadcast live to the producers that monitored the shoot.

To Timothee's left and his right, two bare naked models were lying, their crotches strategically covered in rose petals, vacant expressions in their eyes.

Cal was 22 years old, a tall and handsome black man, athletic and muscular, with a perfect swimmer’s build. In fact, he was a swimmer, just like his friend Brandon, 21, Asian-American, whose body was just as perfect as Cal’s.

“CHALAMET”, Timothee whispered seductively as Cal and Brandon each started spraying the actor with his perfume. Then Timothee held up a bottle of his new perfume into the camera and bit his lower lip. “CHALAMET.”

The flask was designed to invoke the three major nominations of its eponymous star: an Oscar statuette and two Golden Globes. The results looked less like a combination of three trophies and more like a crude joke.

Timothee winked into the camera and said in resonant, convincing baritone: “CHALAMET!”

“Cut”, the director said without much enthusiasm. He picked up the phone and spoke to the producer. “Yeah, my thoughts exactly.” He sighed and put down the phone. “That was perfect, Timo, absolutely perfect.” He didn't sound like he meant it.

Timothee, Cal and Brandon started coughing.

“Igh”, Brandon grimaced. “That smells like---” He looked at the flask, trying to find a word for the unusual, lingering scent of the perfume. “Ugh!”

“I know, right?” Timothee sighed, sitting up and stretching his arms. “I hate it.”

Cal waved his hand through the air, trying to make the smell go away. “Smells like morning breath.”

“Don’t you like my morning breath?” Timothee quipped, purposefully breathing in Cal’s direction and making Cal grimace and grunt in disgust.

“Ugh”, Cal groaned, trying to clear the air by waving his hand frantically. “That’s bad, that’s really bad – but that’s not it.”

Timothee and Brandon laughed.

“It smells like…” Cal groaned, shivering with disgust. “It smells like balls!”

“That’s right!” Brandon chimed in, chuckling. “Sweaty balls.”

“Big old sweaty balls”, Cal laughed.

Timothee raised his eyebrows. “You mean Hollywood Superhunk balls, right?” He reached inside his briefs before pulling his hand out and holding it up under Brandon’s nose. “Like this?”

“Stop it!” Brandon laughed, pushing Timothee’s hand away. “Get away from me!”

Timothee roared with laughter as he turned to Cal. “Wanna smell?”

“Fuck you”, Cal chuckled, fighting off Timothee’s attempts to make him smell the scent of his sweaty nutsack.

“I think my balls smell fucking fantastic”, Timothee chuckled, grabbing Cal’s head and trying to push him down, nose-first into Timothee’s crotch.

Cal balled his fist and punched Timothee’s nuts hard, making him gasp between laughs.

Brandon got in on the fun, and soon the three half-naked men were rough-housing, slapping and punching each other in the nuts, squeezing each others’ balls and tugging on each others’ dicks.

The director and the film crew looked on, half-annoyed, half-amused by the juvenile antics of the three young men. The director picked up the phone, listening to the producer's instruction, nodding silently as he watched the three hunks frolic around.

It was a heap of hands and feet, heads and genitals, a pile of naked men laughing and roaring, howling and shrieking as they went for each others testicles.

“Okay, okay”, the director said into the phone before turning to the cameramen. “Keep the camera rolling”, he said. “Maybe we’re getting something interesting here…”

“My nuts!” Timothee yelled as Brandon and Cal teamed up on him, Brandon holding his arms behind his back as Cal pulled down Timothee’s briefs and starte using his nuts as a punching bag.

“Oooooughoughoughoughg!” Timothee yodeled, his eyes crossing as Cal speed-bagged his tender nuggets.

Timothee’s balls quickly turned purple as he was shrieking and coughing, laughing and howling in pain, his voice mixing with the sound the nut-pounding and the laughter of Cal, Brandon, the director and the crew.

“Spray him with his perfume”, Brandon suggested with a laugh, egging Cal on.

“Fuck yeah”, Cal chuckled and opened one of the misshapen flasks, emptying its content on Timothee’s manhood, dousing his carefully coiffed pubes, his limp dick and his swollen balls in perfume.

There was a collective groan as the unpleasant odor of CHALAMET spread through the room.

“Make it go away”, Timothee groaned between fits of laughter and grunts of pain. “Quickly.”

With Brandon holding Timothee’s arms behind his back and Timothee’s genitals dripping with perfume, a hilarious idea popped into Cal’s head.

“Somebody got a lighter?” he asked.

The director chuckled and reached into his pocket. “Here ya go”, he said, throwing Cal the lighter.

Timothee’s eyes widened. “Hey! What are you doing?!”

Cal looked up and winked at him.

“No! Fuck, no!” Timothee protested but he couldn’t help but laugh at Cal’s cheeky grin.

“Oh, I like it, I like it!” the director said. “Timo, say ‘CHALAMET is on fire’. Then we light up your nuts. This will go fucking viral!”

“What? Nonononono.” Timothee shook his head. “Guys, you can’t---” He let out a helpless laugh. “You can’t just roast my nuts! I need them!”

“Just say it”, the director said. “It’ll be worth it.”

“Come on”, Timothee groaned.

The director grinned. “Just say it.”

Timothee let out a sigh. “Alright, light ‘ em up.” He looked at Cal. “But make sure we get it in one take.”

Cal winked at him. “Don’t worry.”

Timothee chuckled. Then he closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. He opened his eyes and licked his lips. “CHALAMET is on fire”, he said in a stage-whisper, winking into the camera.

A second later, Cal lit the lighter, and Timothee’s crotch illuminated in a bright flame that instantly burnt down his pubic hair.

“Fuck!” Timothee yelled. “Put it out! Put it out!”

Cal quickly got up and stomped down on the fire, squishing and squashing Timothee’s nuts with his bare feet.

The fire was out after just a few dozen stomps, but Cal made sure to put his foot down a few more times, just for fun.

Timothee’s crotch looked pretty ridiculous, there was not a single hair left in his crotch, his nuts were severely swollen and covered in bruises, and his dick had assumed the color of a cooked lobster.

“CHALAMET”, Timothee whispered, staring at his hairless crotch, his bruised and bloated balls and his fuming dick. “CHALAMET.”

The director picked up the phone that had been transmitting the video signal the whole time. “Happy, Armie?” he asked. The response at the other end of the line made him chuckle. “Yeah, sure, we can do another take…”

***

Seven down, five to go. The B Factor continues!