Scene 21 – Outside the Goat & Poofter
[As before. The Doctor, Spartha and the troika are standing over the lifeless body of Sparacus, tied up beside the bins.]
NIGEL: I say we just get the hell out of here and leave those two to die horribly trying to thwart an evil corporation with childish pranks?
DAVE: [to Nigel] I say you’re right.
ANDREW: [to Dave] I say you’re right.
[They turn and walk off. Spartha looks at them, then at the Doctor, then turns and walks off.]
DOCTOR: Awww. This sucks!
[Behind him, Sparacus suddenly awakes, bursting out of his incredibly pathetic STRING bonds. He rises up behind the Doctor, who screams like a girl at the monster towering over him. At the last second, Sparacus stops and stares into the camera.]
SPARACUS: Don’t forget to tune in for the next thrilling installment of this long-awaited classic episode, folks! It’s much better than the current TV specials, that’s for sure! You don’t find RTD providing such high-quality Doctor Who material to an appreciative audience, do you?
[It turns back to see the Doctor has scarpered.]
[The Time Lord flees down the street and Sparacus gallops after his running figure. The Doctor turns a corner and tries the door to a shop covered in bloody handprints, but its locked and precious seconds are wasted on the lost cause of trying to open it as the monster draws closer and closer. The Doctor fearfully looks at the monster, tries the door one last time, then runs off. He turns another corner and sees the TARDIS at the end of the alleyway. Suddenly Sparacus lurches from the darkness right in front of him. The Doctor screams and runs past it to the police box but the door is shut.]
DOCTOR: Oh wow! You gotta, like, be kidding me!
[He turns as Sparacus suddenly breaks into a run, arms extended towards the helpless teenager. Behind the Doctor, the door swings inwards, a hairy arm reaches out, grabs the scruff of the Time Lord’s neck and drags him inside, slamming the door shut in the monster’s face.]
Scene 22 – TARDIS Airlock
[The Doctor is pulled through a pair of sliding doors by Andrew as Dave presses a button the wall next to it. The doors slide shut. They are standing on a metal-grille-floor in a corridor ending in glass doors beyond which is the control room.]
DOCTOR: Thanks for that, like, dudes.
DAVE: We knew you wouldn’t be able to cope. So now what?
ANDREW: Oooh, do you think the Last of the Time Lords will want to run away?
DOCTOR: Damn right!
[He strides over to the glass doors, which slide open as they approach.]
Scene 23 – TARDIS Control Room
[The room is decorated with two rings of large roundels, each about a third the height of the room. There is an archway going over the central console and more roundels on the ceiling. The console is circular and with eight control panels. The scanner looks like a large, old-fashioned TV set with control dials in the bottom right corner. There is a lamp and a second set of controls on a flat work surface by one of the walls. Nigel and Spartha Jones stand by the console as the Doctor, Andrew and Dave enter.]
ANDREW: So we leave the world to suffer the fate you should have prevented. How mature.
DOCTOR: Like, you know, whatever, man! How about a trip to Alzaneran 4, like?
NIGEL: You think that’s adequate recompense for us saving your worthless life?
DOCTOR: Aw, seriously, Nige – you’ll love legendary Museum of the Crystal Caves! It’s totally the largest depositary of archaeological finds and techniques in the galaxy!
NIGEL: And... why should that interest us?
DOCTOR: Well, you know. The lost civilization of the Clanacs was pretty cool. I mean, they left so much shit around the place, they must have been massive. Some of the technology used to date those things was, like, phenomenal. The rest of the technology was kinda crap, pointed sticks and stuff...
DAVE: Why don’t you use your time machine and see them before they were lost, then?
DOCTOR: Awesome! I wish I’d, like, thought of that! OK, how’s about we take another trip to see the Clanac Empire?
SPARTHA: I think a rest is in order from this archaeological business. Some of us have a limited interest in such matters.
DOCTOR: Who says, like, YOU were invited, bitch?
NIGEL: Yeah. What makes you think we want you around? You’re a warped, repressing, psychotic cow with the morals of an alley cat and the IQ of a Kath and Kim fan! No one sane would want to spend time with you of their own free will!
DAVE: Why the hell are you with us anyway? You don’t LIKE us, you don’t LIKE time travel, so why did you come with us in the TARDIS?
ANDREW: Maybe she requires a daily amount of things to bitch about?
ANDREW: AND you scowl too much.
SPARTHA: That is a stupid thing to say.
NIGEL: I know. But my point that you’re a mindlessly negative bitch will stand up in court.
SPARTHA: I simply have different interests to you.
DAVE: ...like what? You only enjoys getting drunk and insulting Rose. You don’t find ANYTHING interesting!
SPARTHA: Why is it all men are overgrown fourteen year olds?
DOCTOR: All men? Isn’t that a rather stupid thing to say, like? Maybe it’s because you’re such a bitchy killjoy no one likes, Spartha? Or is this, like, your way of announcing you are now gay?
SPARTHA: Don’t talk back to me, numbnuts!
[Andrew puts a friendly arm around her shoulders.]
ANDREW: Spartha my dear, would you like us overgrown fourteen year olds to gang up on you, throw you out the doors and leave to your fate?
SPARTHA: [rolls eyes] Of course not, numbnuts.
[Andrew grabs her by the neck and screams in her face with inhuman volume.]
ANDREW: THEN SHUT!! THE FUCK!! UP!!
[He releases her. She stares blankly ahead catatonic. His companions examine her.]
DAVE: Wow. She has!
ANDREW: Ah. [dusts hands] I could listen to her all night when she’s like this.
NIGEL: I’m almost impressed.
[They finally notice the Doctor is not paying attention, as he is on his mobile.]
DOCTOR: I was, like, "Yeah!" and she was, like, "How come?" and I was, like, "Yeah!" and she was, like, "No kidding?!" and I was, like, "Well mingin’!" and she was like...
DOCTOR: [covers mouthpiece] Yeah, what?
NIGEL: What are you doing, you offense to intelligent design?
DOCTOR: Just, you know. Making a call to a friend. From Facebook. OK? [to phone] Like, where was I?
[Dave is peering at a circular porthole in the wall through which the outside world can be seen. The growling Sparacus can be seen staggering towards them.]
DAVE: Shit! If this TARDIS is as impressive as you are, that thing will break in any minute!
ANDREW: [nods] The outlook is bleak!
NIGEL: What are we gonna do?
ANDREW: [impressively] Wing it.
[Andrew starts flipping controls on the console.]
NIGEL: Are you sure you know what you’re doing?
ANDREW: Haven’t a clue.
ANDREW: You want Skins boy there to take over?
NIGEL: ...carry on.
ANDREW: Don’t panic Nigel. All we have to do activate the automatic site locators, feed in the landing coordinates while using the X sensor.
DAVE: That’s all?
ANDREW: Yeah. Should be a simple button on the site-location console.
DAVE: And where’s that?
ANDREW: Beats me.
[He crosses to the second set of controls and pulls a lever across. The central column starts to rise and fall. Various hums and sounds emit from the console. The fish creature outside the portal dissolves into the LSD horror of the time vortex.]
ANDREW: There we go. Safe and sound. I should do this professionally.
[A rippling eddy that shakes the craft around and on its axis. Some of the smaller, more delicate components in the console expire in small showers of sparks, and the room rocks from a large explosion.]
NIGEL: Well, after that brief dabbling with the unknown, a return to your usual standards, Andrew!
ANDREW: Hey, if the pilot didn’t take phone calls while driving, there’d probably be less crashes!
[Andrew and Dave try to coax some reaction from the many consoles and panels ranged before them while avoiding showers of sparks thrown out by the sensitive equipment.]
DAVE: What the hell’s happening?
[The Doctor pisses about with a fire extinguisher, spraying it liberally around the control room.]
DOCTOR: It’s a mega time displacement fissure!
ANDREW: A fissure inside time displacement? How does that work?
NIGEL: Does that actually mean anything or are you just making noise?
DOCTOR: For a few moments, like, the natural flow of time was completely thrown off balance!
DAVE: Can you see the oxymoron there? Can you?
DOCTOR: Someone or something’s, like, using primitive time travel equipment. If they’re trying to change history or that, like, we could get the mingin’ Dommervoy! Or, you know, like, a time rupture could occur.
SPARTHA: [frowning] And is this dangerous, do you think?
NIGEL: Who cares if it’s dangerous, we’re right in the middle of it!
[Dave flips up a hatch on the console and presses his hand into the mould beneath. There is a bright flare of light, and every molecule in the room flies outwards at the speed of light... and reforms, with a rather nice reverse explosion effect, back to normal. Everyone looks around.]
DOCTOR: Like, wow! How did you know how to do that?
[Dave closes the hatch and points to it. It is marked "USE IN CASE OF MEGA TIME DISPLACEMENT FISSURE". An awkward pause. Nigel leans between the two to look at the hatch then turns to the Doctor.]
NIGEL: You’re pathetic.
[The Doctor slams his hand on his floppy-haired head. Andrew looks out the porthole, which now shows some bushes and sunshine.]
ANDREW: Anyone have any idea where we are?
DOCTOR: I do, actually, like. We’ve tracked the source of the energy...
NIGEL: What energy?
DOCTOR: You know. The energy.
DAVE: What energy? We were in a "Mega Time Displacement Fissure"! There wasn’t any energy!
DOCTOR: Well, like, anyway, we’re at the cause of it.
SPARTHA: Which is?
DOCTOR: Somewhere near London.
DAVE: England, again? Sheesh...
ANDREW: The grounds of Hampton Court Palace?
DOCTOR: [suspicious] Maybe.
ANDREW: It just that there’s a sign out there, look. [points] Not to mention all the tourists milling around.
DOCTOR: Oh, I love visiting this place like. There’s so much history and heritage, like, bound up here.
DAVE: So what? You’ve got a time machine, you idiot. You can visit the original Tudor period for crying out loud!
DOCTOR: Yeah, but have you seen the Queen Anne rooms? The Georgian rooms? Like, superb! Most people, like, think Henry VIII built this place, but he actually won it in a Cornflakes competition held by Cardinal Wolsey...
[The others yawn with boredom.]
ANDREW: OK, I say we get out here and walk?
DAVE: Motion carried.
[The troika turn and walk out of the airlock while the Doctor continues to talk crap to himself, looking out the porthole. Spartha wanders after them.]
DOCTOR: You know there’s the largest, like, grape vine in the world here? They call it the Great Vine! What a brilliant name! You know, I might stop and check that out. It’s not like the world is in danger, right, is it? Oh wait. It is. Still, like, I can work around that when I try and, like, find the source of that time displacement. Anyone? Hello?
[He realizes he’s alone.]
Scene 24 – Tudor Hall
[The troika mingle with tourists as they wander past a wall with some generic paintings on it.]
DAVE: Where to now?
NIGEL: Out of here before my brain atrophies. Can you believe people pay twelve pounds entrance free to this celebration of tedium? No wonder there’s a credit crisis. I mean, who cares about this pile of crumbling brickwork? Maintenance and upkeep? Pah! Wasting precious space and resources by celebrating those still dead and not those currently with us.
ANDREW: Very erudite, Nigel. You should run the heritage trust.
NIGEL: Should I?
ANDREW: Well, someone should.
DAVE: Can you smell something?
NIGEL: Probably the drains acting up. What a waste of time this vacation has been.
ANDREW: We met a monster, an alien and traveled in a time machine.
NIGEL: We met a monster, a non-functional retard and travelled from one bit of England to another. Big deal.
ANDREW: Good point. Well made.
[The Doctor runs into view, waving a generic bit of sci-fi equipment.]
DOCTOR: Hey, dudes!
ANDREW, NIGEL & DAVE: Piss off!
DOCTOR: But this device, like, detects residual energy from time travel! It, like, has readings what say the energy, is like, coming below us.
ANDREW: It’s faulty.
DOCTOR: No it’s not!
ANDREW: Then why didn’t it lead you back to the TARDIS then? Doesn’t that have residual time travel energy?
[The Doctor stops in his tracks.]
DOCTOR: Um... Oh.
NIGEL: Typical. You are beyond worthless.
DAVE: Are you sure you can’t smell something?
NIGEL: Like what?
DAVE: Yeah. That’s it. [coughs] I didn’t know they had gas chambers in Tudor buildings.
DOCTOR: Oh no! [looks round frantically] Like, everyone get down!
NIGEL: Now is hardly the time for disco!
DOCTOR: No, you see, gas floats so it’s safer to be at ground level!
ANDREW: [beyond disgusted] "Gas floats"? "Gas"? "Floats"? What the fuck are you on about now? First blood’s a chemical and now gas floats?!
DOCTOR: SOME gases do!
DAVE: And surely we can just WALK out of the hall if it’s so dangerous?
DOCTOR: Will everyone, like, just be quiet for a minute?
NIGEL: What, so you can amaze us with more of your embarrassing brain damage?
DOCTOR: SHUT UP!!
[They all fold their arms at look at him. Most of the tourists leave, complaining of the smell.]
DOCTOR: [awkward] Um. Er. I sense the sound of gas.
ANDREW: You mean, you can "hear" it?
ANDREW: And is this lighter-than-air toxic gas one that can’t penetrate cotton?
DOCTOR: Maybe. [clears throat] It’s emanating from a grill on the side that this wall, like.
[He points to a large tapestry, billowing about visibly.]
DAVE: Why would anyone pump out gas behind a wall hanging? I mean, talk about drawing attention. Besides, why hang a drape over a grille, it’ll block it.
[Nigel rolls his eyes, tugs down the tapestry and kicks into a corner.]
DAVE: Yeah. Just like that. Asking for trouble.
NIGEL: [to Doctor] Better?
DOCTOR: Um. Yeah. That should cover the hole, like.
NIGEL: Good. Now sod off.
[They finally notice a rather angry old man in moustache and bowtie standing behind them.]
MOUNT: WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU COLONIAL SCUM THINK YOU’RE DOING?!?
NIGEL: Jesus! Where did he spring from?
MOUNT: GET AWAY FROM THE EXHIBITS!
ANDREW: [thinks for a moment] No.
[That takes the wind out the old man’s sails a bit.]
MOUNT:...DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!?
NIGEL: The question you really ought to be asking is "do we care who you are"?
DAVE: A clue: no.
MOUNT: I AM SIR ALISTAIR MOUNT!
ANDREW: [yawns] Of course you are.
MOUNT: I AM HEAD OF THE HAMPTON COURT MANAGEMENT TEAM!
DAVE: Oh, so YOU’RE the one we sue.
MOUNT: [in a small voice] Sue?
DAVE: Yeah. We nearly asphyxiated thanks to your incompetence. This incredibly-stupid placed vent was pumping out a toxic, lighter-than-air gas. Either you people have very bad air conditioning or else someone was trying to kill your customers.
ANDREW: Mmmm. "See Hampton Court And Die". Heard worse advertising campaigns.
MOUNT: WHERE IS THE EVIDENCE?
DAVE: Well, the Doctor here...
[He trails off when they all look across to see the Doctor has put on an iPod and is dancing around on the spot like a loser. Scissor Sisters blare from the speaker. Dave covers his eyes.]
DAVE: I fucking hate this guy.
DOCTOR: "Take your mama out all night! Yeah!"
MOUNT: FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD, SWITCH THAT FUCKING THING AND LISTEN PROPERLY YOU PATHETIC VIRGIN TEENAGER!
ANDREW: I dunno. I think we’ll get a lot more done without him.
MOUNT: YOU EXPECT ME TO BELIEVE SOMEONE IS SABOTAGING THIS PALACE COMPLEX? JUST BECAUSE THIS IS THE THIRD INCIDENT THIS WEEK, AFTER THE FIRE IN THE QUEEN ANNE WING AND THOSE TWO AMERICAN TOURISTS CRUSHED BY THAT BEAM THAT FELL OFF THE ROOF OF THE CHAPEL? ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL ME THAT THERE IS SOME KIND OF CONSPIRACY AT WORK HERE?
DAVE: Maybe. Gassing everyone in the building is a little harder to pass off as an accident than the first two. Whoever’s doing this must be getting really desperate to...um...something.
MOUNT: THERE IS NO PROOF WHATSOEVER!!!
NIGEL: Christ. Do you have someone that looks after you? A grown-up we could talk to, maybe?
MOUNT: WHAT KIND OF FUCKERS WOULD WANT TO DO SUCH A THING?!
ANDREW: [shrugs] Dunno. [shrugs again] Don’t care.
DAVE: [waves] See you in Court, bitch. We’ll say hello to the anti-terrorism squads for you.
[They start to walk off. Mount headbutts the wall.]
MOUNT: THAT’S IT! THERE’S NO ALTERNATIVE! I’M CLOSING DOWN HAMPTON COURT TO THE PUBLIC! UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE!
ANDREW: [over his shoulder] Tell it to the police while you explain how you let innocent members of the public get gassed. Come to think of it, they should be here already.
[The Doctor crosses to Mount as he continues to bash his skull against the wall.]
DOCTOR: Don’t be, like, a pussy or something, guy. That’s probably what whoever is doing this wants. [blinks] Oh, wow, I think that, like, answers the motive question. Someone wants this place closed, like!
NIGEL: [over his shoulder] Good!
DOCTOR: It might be criminals, like, after priceless tapestries.
MOUNT: LIKE THE ONE THAT YOU PEOPLE STUFFED INTO A VENT A MINUTE AGO?!
[The Doctor smiles pathetically.]
DOCTOR: Like, yeah. Unless, like, there’s more to it! Something like, more threatening than just theft?
MOUNT: WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE A MOTIVE AT WORK HERE MORE THREATENING THAN JUST THEFT?!?
DOCTOR: I dunno. Maybe something to do with that interference in the flow of time I, like, experienced.
MOUNT: WHAT THE SHIT ARE YOU GOBBING ON ABOUT?!
DOCTOR: It’s just this timey wimey crap which might be relevant.
MOUNT: WHY SHOULD IT BE RELEVANT?
DOCTOR: ...Shut up, slag! Now, I suggest we hang round here surreptitiously, like, after its closed. And since you just closed, that should be easy. Come on, Mount boy! Cheer up! We’re gonna spend the night in a place full of booby traps designed to kill us all! Yay!
- to be continued...