Monday, April 20, 2009

NOT! 10th Doctor to 11th Doctor: The regeneration scene

Ok, here is a 2nd draft regeneration scene marking the debut of Matt Smith's Doctor:

Scene 1 – London Street

[The Tenth Doctor, Donna and her granddad Wilf are fleeing down the street pursued by soldiers.]

DONNA: Wait! I’m confused! Why are they chasing us?

10TH DOCTOR: It’s the Bastard! He’s staging a coup to take over England! Why he’s being so hamfisted and unimaginative, I don’t know.

DONNA: So are the soldiers working for the Bastard?


WILF: I thought you said they was androids!

10TH DOCTOR: [blows out cheeks] Well... they’re androids dressed as soldiers. That good enough?

WILF: If he’s got androids and he doesn’t care about making a fuss, why disguise them? Oh, I can’t go on, Doctor. I’ve completely lost the plot. I’ve got no idea what the fuck is going on. Leave me, take Donna and go!

DONNA: No way! We won’t leave you, gramps. We’re not total fuckwits!

10TH DOCTOR: You’ll just have to move faster old man!

[They turn and stare at him. He grins.]

10TH DOCTOR: I know. Brilliant impersonation of your mother, eh, Donna?

[Suddenly a car speeds up with men leaning out firing shots.]

DONNA: Do they have something to do with the Bastard or are they just random chavs?

10TH DOCTOR: No idea! Right – when I say "run" we split up, head down the side streets, through some alleyways and meet up at the heart of Soho!

DONNA: You mean Old Compton Street?

10TH DOCTOR: The very same! ALLONZEE!

[He prepares to sprint off, but Donna puts a hand on his arm and stops him.]

DONNA: Doctor.

10TH DOCTOR: What?

DONNA: We’re in Old Compton Street already.

10TH DOCTOR: [after a beat] Oh. Jings.

[The car speeds past them. They watch it run over the android soldiers.]

DONNA: Guess they were random hoodies after all. You okay, gramps?

WILF: No. I’m cream crackered and me leg’s gone numb.

DONNA: My god! He’s started using rhyming slang! It must be delirium!

10TH DOCTOR: And they say exercise is good for the old. If you don’t lose it you use it… or maybe the other way round? Enough of this self-pity, Wilf. Let me give you a hand...

[Two black-clad women in skimpy skirts approach.]

STEREOTYPICAL PROSTITUTE # 1: Ere, you looking for company ducky?

10TH DOCTOR: Not really.

DONNA: I hardly think he’d be interested in you. Daft tart!

10TH DOCTOR: What?!

DONNA: Impersonating my mum too. It’s funny, huh?

STEREOTYPICAL PROSTITUTE # 2: Ere, who are you callin’ daft? Ugly cow.

10TH DOCTOR: Excuse me, you HAVE noticed the android uprising going on, haven’t you?

STEREOTYPICAL PROSTITUTE # 1: How’s about we give you a good time?

[Wilf groans.]

WILF: I’m having a heart attack! What do you fucking reckon!?

DONNA: My god! They’re androids too, aren’t they?

10TH DOCTOR: Jings, he has android street walkers now? What kind of diseased mind is behind all this? You know, in the old days, he really had some imagination.


[The Doctor takes out his sonic screwdriver and zaps the two prosti-droids, who explode.]

10TH DOCTOR: At this rate, he’ll have defeated himself before I have to! Fancy a drink?

DONNA: What? Mingle with customers and they won’t think to look for us in a bar?

10TH DOCTOR: Exactamundo, Donna! It’s so completely retarded and uncharacteristic, they’ll never see it coming.

[They turn and enter the bar right behind them while the hoodies do donuts on the android soldiers. The bar’s neon sign is "The Absinthe Aberrant".]

Scene 2 – The Absinthe Aberrant

[As would be expected for such a crummy pub populated by gay Colchester history teachers, the clientele are all 40-year-old bald, spectacled alcoholics on the verge of absinthe-induced psychotics. The Doctor and Donna enter and help Wilf into a seat.]

DONNA: Doctor, I think this is a gay bar.

10TH DOCTOR: What gave it away? Just keep a low profile...

[An incredibly decrepit homosexual in a wig and with a perpetual squint grabs the Doctor and kisses him.]

10TH DOCTOR: Excuse me? Do I know you?

DONNA: Oi! That’s assault, you know.

MARK GOACHER: No, I think you’ll find this is assault.

[So saying, he stabs the Doctor in the stomach with a knife and throws him to the ground.]

10TH DOCTOR: Jings...

WILF: You’re not doing gay pride any favors, mate.

[The wretched cutthroat takes out his mobile and rings it.]

MARK GOACHER: Hello? Mr. Bastard? Target located and eliminated! Hmm? No, I just stabbed him in the stomach. "Which stomach"? How many does he have? Oh. That many. That’s a lot. Oh, well, I suggest YOU hunt him down and murder him then. I have a degree, you know!

[He pushes his way past the customers and leaves. The customers see the Doctor, bleeding to death on the floor, cheer very loudly and start engaging in sexual activity.]

DONNA: Ere! Isn’t anyone going to ring an ambulance or something? There’s an injured man here!

10TH DOCTOR: Jings, can’t you lot do that somewhere else? Bad enough I’m dying without having to see this...

WILF: I tell you, this sets back homosexual relations ten years, this place.

[The Doctor starts to glow ethereally, a mini tidal wave swirling out through his flesh.]

10TH DOCTOR: For fuck’s sake, I can’t even think of something witty to say...

[The Doctor convulses in a simultaneously agonizing and euphoric spasm. His face literally contorts, morphing, growing and transforming before the gaze of Donna and Wilf until he has a new body and not a trace of last Doctor remains.]

WILF: Doctor?

DONNA: Doctor? Are you ok?

[The Doctor’s eyes blink open, bright and alive, shining in the light of his own rebirth.]

DOCTOR: [dazed] I was, like, "Yeah!" and she was, like, "Yeah!"

DONNA: Doctor?

DOCTOR: Love the new floppy hair. Wicked! I’m, like, young again! Yay! Where am I?

WILF: In a bar surrounded by horny men who seem to fancy your new body.

[One of the copulating history teachers looks up.]

RANDOM GAY MAN: She’s right. Vast improvement, I must say.

[Deeply annoyed, the Doctor leaps to his new feet.]

DOCTOR: Like, fuck you! You guys did, like, nothing and let me died! Screw this, the Bastard can kill you all – you’ve made me hate homosexuality in every possible sense! I’m not a hundred per cent sure who any of you, like, are, but I don’t care! In fact, I want you all dead!

[He uses his sonic screwdriver to cause all the absinthe bottles to explode in flame. All the gay men are set afire and run around screaming in pain as the new Doctor, Donna and Wilf watch on.]

DOCTOR: Yeah, like, not so fucking amusing NOW, is it? Sod it, I’m off to Cornwall...


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