tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-50757406711222685152024-03-14T19:11:37.789+11:00YOA's Blog Of The Unusally PointlessMENTAL ANARCHY ARCHIVE - The stuff you can't read in other blogs...Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.comBlogger779125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-13805871207092640112015-12-07T13:56:00.000+11:002015-12-12T12:36:53.786+11:00GoodbyeWell, all good things must come to an end and even really crap things, too. After a lengthy discussion with TC, I've decided to - like a certain day tripper in a Beatles song - take the easy way out. I was going to do a nifty review of Hell Bent but there's no time like the present.<br />
<br />
Like a time rift in an RTD script, this blog is closed. Let it gather dust and be forgotten. Let's be honest, it was a pisstake of spara to start with and has caused me more trouble than good - though it <i>has </i>caused good and I cherish the friendships I've made through the bloggersphere.<br />
<br />
<br />
They say a lot of deaths happen around Christmas. I don't think that's true, I think we just notice the suicides more. But it only takes the slightest nudge.<br />
<br />
Well, you lot can <a href="mailto:ewen32@iprimus.com.au" target="_blank">email</a> me as and when you desire. That'll probably summon a lot of spambots but that's not my problem any more.<br />
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Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-15463516937963853072015-12-06T01:35:00.002+11:002015-12-06T01:38:02.234+11:00Notes From A LooneyYes lads, he's back. Obviously playing all-night diamond digger isn't enough for Sadly Tadako who is cunning trying to get me fired from a job I lost two years ago.<br />
<br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><i><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">I've
decided I'm going to make it my mission to see Ewen put in jail for his
creepy cyberstalking behaviour, where hopefully he'll say the wrong
thing to one of his fellow inmates and end up dead.</span></span></i></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"></span></span></b><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"></span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">Uh-huh. That radiates soundness of mind, doesn't it? Still, given his combined insanity and lack of work ethic, I shouldn't be in any real danger until the next Mayan Apocalypse.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><i><b><span style="color: red;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody _1n4g">It's
scary ignorant and behind the times police and law
enforcement still are about the life-wrecking severity of
cyberstalking. Stalkers see
in their victim all their own inadequacy and loathing reflected back at
them and are fixated with destroying that someone's life over it. And that's Ewen.</span></span></span></b></i> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody">What I love is his level of self-awareness and open-mindedness. Note - number of facebook hate pages and spam emails sent by me to former employees is zero. That's stalking, that is.</span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b><i>I'd like feedback on this draft I've written to Ewen's former employees at Hepatitis NSW</i></b></span><br />
<br />
Do you? Do you really? <br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b><i> Dear Sir</i></b></span><br />
<br />
Ironically it's not a man in charge of HR, but still... <br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><i><b>
This complaint concerns one of your former volunteers at your Surrey
Hill Hepatitis Center at 414 Elizabeth Street, New South Wales by the
name of Ewen Campion-Clarke (email address ewen32@iprimus.com.au ).</b></i></span><br />
<br />
Actually it was on Albion Street when I worked there. These details matter.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="text_exposed_show">
<span style="color: red;"><i><b>
I have had many unpleasant experiences online with this individual who
has proven to be a compulsive liar and a mentally unhinged obsessive who
has been waging a campaign of harassment, cyberstalking and slander
against me for years, devoting pages of his blog to me, and following me
from forum to forum under various aliases.</b></i></span><br />
<br />
Oh good, I was worried you'd sound like some ranting paranoid. You know, you're pretty much insulting everyone there with the implication that wouldn't have noticed that. Anyone who's met me in real life will know the one thing I don't do is hide my true nature, or as Jared Hansen once put it "He's like Steve Foxx, but not homicidal".<br />
<br />
But I was unaware
until recently that he had worked in medical within your company,<br />
<br />
Hah! No, I ran the mailroom and drew some cartoons. I had absolutely nothing to do with medical, and indeed Hep NSW is an information service. They don't have anything to do with medicine, there are no medical records. They post newsletters. Oh, Christ this is hilarious. This is like the guy in the first episode of Press Gang who things Ronald Regan's Star Wars program involved the Millennium Falcon!<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><i><b> and
this particularly worries me given that some time ago he made a blogpost
concerning his relationship with what I assume was one of your service
users.</b></i></span><br />
<br />
Wrong. Completely wrong. Wrong to the point this letter is actually improving my reputation over the writer's because he probably thinks I'm Welsh because I live in New South Wales.<br />
<br />
<b><i><span style="color: red;">A nine year old girl who was suffering from a urine tract
infection at the time.</span></i></b><br />
<br />
A) Urine tract infections have nothing to do with Hepatitis and B) she wasn't nine and C) for someone horrified at this outrage of privacy, he does like shouting it to the rooftops. <br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b><i> This is his blog page: <a href="http://davidrestal.blogspot.co.uk/" rel="nofollow" target="_blank">http://davidrestal.blogspot.co.uk/</a></i></b></span><br />
<br />
To misquote Ade Edmonsen: "Bugger me, a fact from real life!"<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b><i>
The blog post he made concerning this girl is one he has since deleted
after I threatened to expose him over it (it was publically visible
online from the dates October 25th 2014 to February 28th 2015), but I
saved a Word copy of the blog post and I enclose it as an attachment so
you can see for yourself the seriousness of its content. In this blog he
describes his inappropriate level of attachment and fond interest
towards this girl and speculations on the cause of her condition.</i></b></span><br />
<br />
Yes... well, being her honarary uncle and good friends with three generations of her family will generate a "fond interest", I suppose. But the thing is, if I'm an unhinged madman, why the hell does he think I'm telling the truth anyway? <br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><i><b>Not only does he describe her medical status, which I'm sure you'll
agree is a breach of patient confidentiality in itself, </b></i></span><br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><i><b>but he even goes
so far to make inflammatory speculations that the cause might be
concerned with abuse and basically slanders and accuses her current
guardians of child molestation, without concrete evidence and to a
readership that would include his local community.</b></i></span><br />
<br />
Ironically inflaming the passions of someone <i>on the other side of the planet</i>. <br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><i><b>This is a
breach of medical confidentiality and ethics and demonstration of
worrying obsessiveness concerning his patients that I think you'll agree
warrants serious investigation and him being struck off from ever
working in medical again.</b></i></span><br />
<br />
Meh, like I can stand the sight of blood after my accident...<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><i><b><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody _1n4g">JESUS CHRIST does this drippy fucked up wanker ever stop fucking
Whining!? I mean how much petulance and self-pity about shite no-one
gives a single crap about can you fit into such a small piece of prose?</span></span></b></i></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody _1n4g">It's a valid point.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody _1n4g"><i><b><span style="color: red;">And it just goes ON AND ON.</span></b></i> <span style="color: red;"><i><b>Wah! Wah!</b></i></span><span style="color: red;"><i><b> If only the doctors had given up on him there and then, we'd all be better off.</b></i></span></span></span> <br />
<br />
Yes, but then what would you do with your life without anyone to try and have murdered? <br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><i><b>Your malaise reminds me of Lady Gaga!</b></i></span><br />
<br />
...<br />
<br />
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<br />
<br />
<span style="color: red;"><b><i> Yours Faithfully<br /> Sgnlzr Bnnjrnm</i></b></span></div>
<br />
<b><i><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}"><span class="UFICommentBody"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">And a Merry Christmas to all of you at home!!!</span></span></span></span></i></b>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-25588421844192284472015-11-28T13:09:00.000+11:002015-11-28T13:09:26.241+11:00Fancy ThatTrying to lighten the mood after recent events is a passionate marriage betwixt <i>Guesthouse Paradiso: The Bottom Movie </i>and a mind-bogglingly accurate prediction of said movie's plot by angry pre-Spice-Girl duo Shampoo whose repertoire is far greater and more adult than their handful of <i>Top of the Pop </i>music vids suggest. Turns out they did other songs besides <i>Trouble</i>, too!<br />
<br />
(Subtitles provided for those unable to decipher the squawking lyrics.)<br />
<br />
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<br />Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-20900874693613585832015-11-22T23:26:00.000+11:002015-11-22T23:29:47.349+11:00Bye, Clara - Miss YouAnd so tonight we saw the end of Clara "Bubbly Personality Masking Control Freak And Severe Personality Dissorder" Oswald as she faced the raven with far more dignity, wit and good humor than Anna in <i>The Beautiful Lie </i>five minutes later on your ABC.<br />
<br />
Having first appeared in 2012, statistics from more mathematically-inclined folk than myself state that Clara is the longest serving <i>Doctor Who </i>companion bar Jamie "Randy Scot Bastard" McCrimmon in terms of continued consecutive adventures. Yet, oddly, she still hasn't quite sunk into the public consciousness like the comparatively-blink-and-miss it Rose and Donna. Still, maybe next time.<br />
<br />
In some ways I'm not sure I ever "got" Clara. Maybe it was getting three separate introductions to the character, or the fact that she was pretty badly defined in her first season (understandably overshadowed by other events in 2013). While we constantly got the impression Clara was an iceberg with hidden depths, it was hard to guess what they were with the huge misdirection that she might have been evil. Of course, this was remedied soon enough when it was decided to focus on the horrible psychological damage she endured aboard the TARDIS - unlike Amy Pond who's mental health records needed two folders, Clara's undoubtedly the companion who really needed to see a therapist. With her pathological lying, martyr complex and crippling guilt issues it'd have been interesting to see a <i>Turn Left </i>take on how Clara would have probably burned out without the Doctor's influence.<br />
<br />
Of course, being the longest-running NuWho companion (she's got more screentime than half a dozen Doctors) she has suffered the usual Moffat twists of fake-departures and fake-deaths. She's been blown up, fallen down, mind-wiped, frazzled, erased, ripped apart, exterminated, duplicated just as many times as she's left the TARDIS on good terms, bad terms, popped out for a moment and vowed never to return. But ultimately she stands as the Companion Wot Died, rivalling only Adric in this regard. Yeah sure you can put up names like Oliver, Kamelion or Molly but the fact is only Clara and Adric were around long enough for it to hit home to the audience when they karked it, popularity or not. They also both fatally overestimated their abilities trying to solve the problem the exact same way as their best friend.<br />
<br />
And yet, as fandom (currently in the "everything produced under the logo is precisely what we hate" phase that seems to alternate with Prime Ministers) seem so utterly sick of the sight of Ms Coleman and have apparently been begging for the character to go approximately five seconds before they knew it existed, I'll miss her. In her last season she's only really been in four stories, either sidelined or body-snatched or simply a ghost. Jenna's natural charisma, motor mouth and amazingly awesome Bambi eyes were at times the only comfort to be had in such miserable times as Trenzalore and 3W and various points in between.<br />
<br />
I'll miss her, perhaps because for the first time since Charley Pollard there's been a companion around long enough for me to get attached. While I may not be a clever boy, and I'm certainly not a runner, with the aid of some band called Simple Shelter covering Enya, I've at least tried to remember the impossible girl...<br />
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<br />Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-44712411289406558732015-11-21T13:15:00.001+11:002015-12-21T10:23:36.878+11:00Is There A Season 6b? (slight return)No.<br />
<br />
It was a missing mini-adventure between <i>The Ice Warriors </i>and <i>The Enemy of the World</i>.<br />
<br />
That was my official conclusion at the time and has been canonized by Big Finish.<br />
<br />
What's that? Terrance Dicks' <i>World Game </i>is rendered even more worthless than already is?<br />
<br />
Aw. Quelle domage, Davros *fires lasers from his eyes*<br />
<br />
And in other news, some GB praise for my off-the-back-of-my-harddrive entry into the Land of Fiction Halloween special story competition. Came second, 6/14 people voted for it, and I probably would have won if I had properly found-and-replaced all the clues I was reprinting my old <i>Enemy Within </i>script.<br />
<br />
<b><u>DalekAddison</u> says:</b><br />
<br />
<i><br />
I liked this one it was really quite atmospheric and scary. It took me a
sec to gauge it was Six. The “eight oh oh” let me hone in on the Doctor
though. I thought it might be Seven at some points but then you started
really cracking into the sixth Doctors voice and making some great
lines that sounded just like him. It took me a while to work out who
Peri was, I thought it might have been her but I didn’t know for
definite until you said. Mind you, I don’t think there was any definite
on the Doctor either. I liked it though I thought the good
characterisation clearer it up later.<br /> </i><br />
<i>It brings up the interesting idea that the Doctor could land in the
middle of something non-supernatural or alien yet sadistic like that.
Which is quite scary.<br /> </i><br />
<i>And another hanging mystery! Very nice. I want to know what happens again.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u>Nic Ford</u> says:</b><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><b>
</b>Now, this is interesting. I absolutely loved the fact that it was
completely unclear who the Doctor and companion were, and the reader
could impose their own pairing. I thought that was brilliantly done. Personally, I had Clara and 12 – although I quite successfully had Donna
and 10 perform it in my head (well, it was a bit acerbic for 10 but it
could be made to work) and I am pretty sure Amy and 11 could have done
it too. Right up to page 7, where you say 'Peri'. <img alt="" border="0" class="inlineimg" src="http://gallifreybase.com/forum/images/smilies/frown.gif" title="Frown" /></i><br />
<i><br />
Personally, I'd suggest you remove that single word, and work on
what is a very effective – and I honestly mean this as a compliment –
generic Doctor style. It's actually quite hard to achieve – I've tried,
and always end up being obviously one Doc or another. <br /> </i><br />
<i>With regard to the story: suitably scary and macabre for Hallowe'en.
However, it felt a bit like it ended before it had finished, if you
know what I mean – I'd like to understand the denoument the author meant
for it, rather than my own interpretation of 'well, they were stranded
and got hanged'.</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u>Betawho</u> says:</b><br />
<br />
<i>'It wasn't sort of all white and embryonic, was it?' Hah! That was great. Yes, pull in his past experiences and knowledge. I love that.</i><br />
<i><br />
"if there are demons, monsters, goblins, ghosts, ghouls, werewolves, mad
axe men, and all other sorts of ferocious phantasmagoria..." Great
line. Just like the Doctor to make things worse before he makes it
better. I can just hear Clara thinking "You had to bring that up."</i><br />
<i><br />
Peri? I was thinking it was 12 and Clara. Actually 6 and Peri puts a whole different slant on things. I like it!<br /> </i><br />
<i>"Maybe your latent telepathic powers are picking something up?" YES! I
always loved that aspect of Peri, that she was just a bit more than she
seemed on the outside.<br /> </i><br />
<i>'As you say.' I could definitely hear that in 6's voice.<br /> </i><br />
<i>'That does it,' he says firmly. I've lost enough hearts' beats tonight
and those are all I intend to lose!' YES! Indomitable 6. You've scared
his Companion and you're pissing him off. He's not going to take that.
Yes! I like 6. For all the guff he gets he's still fun. His love of
language and absolute moral outrage. And how he's really just a big
teddy bear underneath, even if he doesn't want you to know it. You've
captured that very well.<br /> </i><br />
<i>Oh, you WOULD have to end it right there. Now I need a sofa to hide behind.<br /> </i><br />
<i>Well done. Wonderfully creepy story. But perhaps more <b>Doctor Who</b> for
grown-ups than for kids. Sort of <b>Doctor Who </b>meets the <b>Blaire Witch
project</b>.</i><br />
<br />
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<i> </i>
Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-23731698100139010222015-10-27T15:55:00.000+11:002020-03-07T19:37:36.845+11:00The GBCCPS Season 32013 sees third series of prose <i>Companion Chronicles</i>, shorter than the previous two, sets out its stall from its bizarre subtitle onwards. These stories of the Doctor are not told by friends or enemies, but people who barely know him and invariably never will. The larynx-twisting <i>Logorrhea of the Lookers-On </i>sounds more like a hideous bowel complaint than the premise of a story. Does anyone really care what passers-by think of our heroes and their adventures when they aren't in a position to judge either? That could be why some stories abandon even that idea...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5b9s26iXAq0TROe6adEZf-LSwlEnGRiINpe8BK66WccUyO11QwYfOtFMYZDe2oKN97ICE4qMLEmx_nBjyjF0RQWIF6mCSpexojnA4_PO7OfEtJhVWh3RUpqx0hJ-MsakljPq3vh3ycF4f/s1600/tlotl.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="160" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5b9s26iXAq0TROe6adEZf-LSwlEnGRiINpe8BK66WccUyO11QwYfOtFMYZDe2oKN97ICE4qMLEmx_nBjyjF0RQWIF6mCSpexojnA4_PO7OfEtJhVWh3RUpqx0hJ-MsakljPq3vh3ycF4f/s400/tlotl.bmp" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Guess how many of those stories don't feature the Doctor <i>at all.</i></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<b>Ace and Sailor Jack: On the Overland</b> - Al B Dickenson<br />
Another NA-style epic and prequel to the equally-gargantuan <i>The Boys Upstairs, </i>the very premise was so off-putting I could barely face reading it regardless of the quality. Even the fact the narrator seemed convinced Ace was a man doesn't entice me. There's gangsters, a train, the Doctor being manipulative, if that's enough encouragement, enjoy. I didnt.<br />
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<b>It’s Only Hydrus If I Fail</b> - David Hogan <br />
A corrupt dystopian colony is overthrown by the Fifth Doctor, Nyssa, Tegan and Adric while those on the ground watch on in bewilderment. Despite some flair and wit, there are no surprises and the story unfolds as predictably as a falling stack of dominoes.<br />
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<b>When Harry Met Lucy</b> - Samuel Marks<br />
Shortly before the events of <i>The End of Time, </i>Martha gets the lowdown from Lucy Saxon about life with her husband over the Season 3 finale. By necessity covering a lot of ground already explore, Master/Lucy fanfics have picked the best ideas already. Lucy Saxon's life sucked before, during and after and while there is a surprising ending the road getting there is straightforward and dull.<br />
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<b>A Dream of Horror </b>- Andrew Jero <br />
A near-death experience for Nyder - if that's what actually happens - ensures this story lives up to its name in this <i>Prisoner-</i>esque like questioning of reality. While it's frightening and unsettling, it has no answers, offers no clues and the Doctor has nothing whatsoever to do with it.<br />
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<b>The Irregularity -</b> Jake Reynolds<br />
<i>Bad Wolf </i>told through the eyes of the Controller. Great prose, but another piece written around a minor character in a RTD season finale so there are no twists or surprises.<br />
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<b>Of Death - </b>Philip Boyes <br />
Only Jangy Giggins would be bold enough to write an epic novella formatted to such a professional degree based entirely on an offhand comment by Joshua "Lemon Bloody Cola" Wynne that he would like to be stabbed to death by Hannah Murray. A solo older Seventh Doctor encounters a hilariously gothic ancestor of Ben Chatham who is being haunted by his descendent's demise in a Hannah-Murray-knife-massacre. Lovecraft, Sparacus and LBC implode in a story so well written hardly anyone would realize it's a pisstake of the <i>Land of Fiction</i>'s most infamous son.<br />
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<br />
<b>The Lonely Ass<strike>assins</strike>, An Anthology of Mystery by L. Nightingale </b>- Steve Fiori<br />
<i>Blink </i>retold by Larry Nightingale and his encounters with Clive Finch, LINDA and Amy Pond. Entertaining, fun and gives the Weeping Angels the brilliant nickname of "the Stone Bastards" but it doesn't add much to the TV story or the character.<br />
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<b>Horrors of the Mind</b> - Elinor Ekman <br />
Dr. Todd from <i>Kinda </i>returns in another dream-reality tale of scientists, Daleks and the Fifth Doctor and Turlough. Although the set-up is interesting and unusual, the main character is so different from her last appearance she might as well have been someone else and it commits the cardinal sin of having her knocked out and missing the resolution of the story. Nonetheless, there's real potential here.<br />
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<b>...He Kindly Stopped For Me </b>- Andrew Weston<br />
The Eleventh Doctor and Clara encounter the sole survivor of a terrible war. A neat short tale, with the nature of the narrator being kept secret until the end and probably the only story that really gets the object of the exercise, showing someone's life entirely changed by a brief encounter with the Doctor.<br />
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<b>Logan’s Run</b> - Samuel Marks<br />
A lovely sequel to Season 1's <i>The Devil's Rock </i>as the Tenth Doctor and Logan Hawk (the pretend space adventurer actually completely out of his depth) encounter a planetary catastrophe engineered by a Sycorax and Logan finds himself having to finally walk the walk after talking the talk. It takes a leaf out of BF's book by creating a new companion (or rather recurring character) and if Logan were to return in future tales I for one would certainly not complain.<br />
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And in the usual final analysis:<br />
<br />
Highlights - <i>Of Death, ...He Kindly Stopped For Me </i>and <i>Logan's Run</i><br />
<br />
Lowlights - none of them were truly awful, but the rest weren't successful while <i>AASJOTO </i>of course couldn't even provide enough enthusiasm to read it.<br />
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Following on from <i>The Epistles of the Enemy, </i>it is clear that the format can only been tampered with so much and <i>Logorrhea of the Lookers-On </i>has granted a formula that constantly threatens to alienate the reader. Three stories fail to do more than put spins on TV episodes, keep the Doctor at such a distance that you'd be forgiven for being surprised when he turns up at all. Creating brand new characters who go through a proper arc and tell an exciting sci-fi romp at the same time is not easy and it's easy to spot which ones went where. Ultimately, the whole saga lacks the memorable punches or even interesting takes on the Doctors themselves with the Fifth making any impact.<br />
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Better luck next time.Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-32119312751033033172015-10-27T15:05:00.002+11:002020-03-07T19:37:52.245+11:00 Review - The GBCCPS Season 2Following the success of the first season, 2012 saw the return of <i>The Companion Chronicles Prose Series </i>but this time with a twist - they would no longer be <i>Companion Chronicles </i>but <i>Epistles of the Enemy</i>, and told from the viewpoint of the Doctor's foes rather than his friends. BF of course had attempted something similar with <i>Mastermind</i>, given a certain character fits the format like a black velvet glove but while the Master appears in four of the stories, he only actually narrates one. There are fewer stories (apparently a Voord-based epic was unable to be used) and unlike the previous year there is no attempt to make sure there's a story for every Doctor<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Stories from the villain's POVs - more fun than it sounds...</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Fimbulvinter </b>by Meg MacDonald<br />
Fimbulvinter is a term from Norse mythology and basically means "Winter Is Coming", which is appropriate in this tale of the child Doctor and Master growing apart following their viewing of the Untempered Schism and exploration of Gallifrey's mountains. The story is told of the view of a strange wild animal they encounter and their very different reactions. A very downbeat and brutal tale.<br />
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<b>Fish Fingers & Mustard </b>by Paul Parncutt <br />
An out-of-control TARDIS crashlands in a Leadworth backyard, bringing two very different characters together in a tale of mutal mistaken identity. I can't praise this story enough, or go into any further detail without ruining the plot twists but this is a brilliant melding of the RTD and early Moffat eras as the two main story arcs seamlessly wind into each other. Brilliant.<br />
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<b>I, Zygon </b>by Al B Dickerson<br />
One of the surviving Zygons from Broton's group meets up with the Fourth Doctor again and tell his story. An excellent character piece that shows how truly strange and alien the Zygons and their technology are, but has sadly been overwritten by their return in <i>Day of the Doctor</i>. Even so, I'd wholeheartedly recommend this as the definitive take on the Zygons and a must-read for anyone who wants to try and do the shape-shifters justice. Worth looking out for.<br />
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<b>Cold Fusion </b>by Samuel Marks <br />
The Eighth Doctor investigates a Silurian colony under a seaside town and unwittingly unites lovers from two different species. A rather silly, unengaging story that treads the same sort of ground as the Paternoster Gang. Perhaps before Madam Vastra was introduced on TV, this would have been mould-breaking and original but as it is it the most dispensible story in the series.<br />
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<b>The Rise and Fall of Richard Knight </b>by David Hogan<br />
An excerpt from the diaries of a businessman who unwittingly aided the Master and fell foul of the Third Doctor, Jo and UNIT. A nice quintessential Pertwee tale, but the understandably-biased narrative means it can be easy to miss precisely what Knight did wrong. A clever, witty little story.<br />
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<b>How We Killed A God </b>by Steve Fiori <br />
On her deathbed, Madam Kavorian reflects on the scheme to kill the Doctor when she gets a visit from the very much not-dead Eleventh Doctor. A clever tale filling in a few unanswered questions and doesn't contradict the later <i>Time of the Doctor</i>, but the portrayal of Kavorian as a noble demon rather than the lip-smacking sadistic witch grates badly.<br />
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<b>You Are Not Alone </b>by Fionna MacDonald<br />
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A vignette by the Jacobi Master as he uses the chameleon arch, abandoning the Time War when he hears the Eighth Doctor has perished. Impressively written and well-thought out, especially given the author is a young girl with learning difficulties.<br />
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<b>The War of Jenkin’s Ear (And Other Stories) </b>by Nic Ford<br />
The Kandyman hunts down the Seventh Doctor in a bar at the climax their endless feud. Like the Doctor, you'll probably be wondering "what endless fued?" and the Kandyman is more than happy to fill in the gaps in this demented and warped anthology celebrating all that fandom recoils from - Season 24, Vervoids, Nimon, time-travelling carrot cake... If by the end of this story you're not demanding the Kandyman return to the TV series then you obviously haven't read it. I loved this one.<br />
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<b>Silencing the Beast </b>by Meg MacDonald<br />
Following his ordeal on Midnight, the Tenth Doctor sends Donna away while he deals with a voice in his head determined to break him. A genuinely unsettling character piece, though while it may not have anything to do with the Dream Lord, it's impossible not to imagine Toby Jones' sneering tones while reading. No answers are given and no closure is offered. Highly-recommended.<br />
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<b>Anagram of the Kaleds </b>by Nic Ford <br />
Just as last year, Ford again decides to provide a comedy skit rather than fit with the format but at least it's fun and entertaining. This sees the creation of the Daleks as a 1970s workplace sitcom with the first Kaled mutant a sarcastic ex-lollypop man and Davros his accident-prone supervisor. If you thought <i>Genesis of the Daleks </i>needed more velcro, custard and wise-cracking squids, this is for you.<br />
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<b>The Rallax Operation </b>by Al B Dickenson<br />
Another massive tale, thankfully split in two and with a more engaging narrator. The Tenth Doctor bumps into Garron and Unstoffe and things pretty much go to hell from thereon. These stories have often blended Classic and NuWho together, but it's hard to beat this version with Garron fearing the wrath of "the rhinos" and Unstoffe frightening the Doctor by knocking on a window four times. The story ends up with a cast of characters that form a band more worthy of television exploration than anything Torchwood has managed to offer. A great way to round off the series.<br />
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Highlights: <i>Fish Fingers & Mustard, Silencing the Beast, TWOJEAOS, The Rallax Operation</i><br />
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Lowlights: <i>How We Killed A God, Cold Fusion, Anagram of the Kaleds</i><br />
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With fewer stories, the slant towards the New Series is far more notable and the emphasis on the Doctor is obvious but thankfully none of the stories go for the cheap trick of saying a villain was really the good guy all along even when the Doctor is portrayed as a sinister, nightmarish. Nonetheless, the strike rate is hugely impressive and thankfully lacks the recurring motiffs and repetition of the previous season. Frankly, this is a format Big Finish is missing out on.Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-52822917966930120262015-10-26T18:05:00.000+11:002020-03-07T19:38:15.580+11:00Review - The GBCCPS Season 1Just posting my thoughts on the fan-written <i>Companion Chronicles </i>on the interweb. These are all PDF documents, published in 2011, with a mock Big Finish cover on the back page and formatted to be very easy on the eye, giving a decent crack o'the whip to the New Series in the days when BF was off limits.<br />
<br />
With the recent demise of Big Finish's beloved <i>Companion Chronicles </i>-
which featured every Classic series companion at some point bar Mel -
it's no surprise that fans have carried on the tradition. The prose
version of these stories is, in a way, closer to the original conception
of "talking books" than the nigh-on-full audio dramas like <i>Solitaire </i>or <i>The Jigsaw War</i>.
Presented with mock CD covers in neat PDF formats, the GallifreyBase
series has gone through four different iterations and proving itself as
flexible as its progenitor..<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;">
<b><i>Classic Series Companion Chronicles, worthy of Big Finish...</i></b></div>
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</tbody></table>
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<b>My 2000-Year Diary by Rory Williams (Plastic) - </b>Al B Dickenson</div>
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Exactly what it says on the tin. In the starless Big Bang universe, Auton Rory tells some of his hijinks to <i>Richard Dawkins </i>as they wait for the Pandorica to open. A kind of cheeky cross between <i>Blackadder </i>and <i>Forest Gump</i> as Rory encounters various historical characters, it fits so convincingly into the episode I'm hard-pressed to work out which bits are entirely the author's own imagination - though Rory being a huge fan of Neil Gaiman's <i>Sandman </i>is probably one of them.</div>
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<b>Right of Passage -</b> Nic Ford</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Leela's first trip in the TARDIS brings her to a crucial point in her own childhood and she and the Doctor find themselves caught in a predestination paradox. Interestingly, the Sevateem are portrayed as a bunch of boring stick-in-the-muds rather than the hair-trigger killing machines one would expect - they're more likely to force you to clean the latrines than take the test of the Horda and Leela's apparently been desperate to get some real excitement. I could forgive that given how fun the story is, but it features my pet hate of forgetting that they were using the wooden control room at the time. This isn't exactly complicated stuff!</div>
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<b>A Case of Jo -</b> Declan Lynn</div>
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An abandoned diary of Jo as she goes undercover in a woman-only business that's been leaving mutated radioactive corpses everywhere. Jo's portrayal as a hysterical screaming feminazi <i>almost </i>works, but it falls into the old Sparacassian trap of being all build up with a villain who barely gets their wikipage entry out before they're all killed. Avoidable.</div>
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<b>Appearances Can Be Deceiving -</b> Betawho</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Curiously abandoning the idea of the first person narrative, this is a simple character piece as the Sixth Doctor and Peri encounter versions of themselves from a parallel universe - a moustached brunette eyepatched Doctor dressed as Captain Jack and Peri in leather fetish catsuits. I'm not sure if the twist is that they're evil (shock!) or that they have a much healthier relationship than the "real" TARDIS crew.</div>
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<b>The Devil's Rock - </b>Samuel Marks</div>
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One of Martha's stories told during the year that never was, appropriately enough celebrating the Tenth Doctor. This is a tale of their encounter with an Ace Rimmer like space hero who is clearly better at this thing than the Doctor, but like Jack in <i>The Empty Child </i>the Time Lord soon reminds us all why we prefer him. A great little story with a nice sequel hook.</div>
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<b>Internal Monologue - </b>Simon Berian</div>
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Intriguingly told entirely through dialogue, this story has Wilf and the Nobles coping with an alien incursion with only a very surly (and very out of character) Second Doctor from Season 6b. The writer can pull off apocalyptic horror (Wilf is infected with a mind parasite) and cheerful romp (amnesiac Donna using psychic paper) but can't really find a balance between them. Uneven and at times exasperating.</div>
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<b>Halloween on the Powell Estate - </b>Andrew Wylie</div>
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That's Halloween as in the Buffy episode where the costumes turn their wearers into monsters. Cut and paste into <i>Aliens of London </i>and there's not much else to say. The prose fails to make the monsters scary, the logic of the solution doesn't make sense and the idea an elderly Rose would treasure this story because it was the only time the Ninth Doctor was domestic rather undermines the point of <i>The Christmas Invasion</i>.</div>
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<b>The Wow Factor - </b>David Hogan</div>
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Strongly rooted in Big Finish, this is a Bonfire Night tale of the Eighth Doctor and Charley Pollard fighting Chameleons on the high street in a sequel to <i>The Faceless Ones </i>that never takes the obvious route. Nonetheless it's very rushed and the main flaw is it's just a story with Charley in it, rather than a story of an event that really mattered to her.</div>
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<b>The Tomorrow People - </b>M Roderick Grant</div>
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Anyone expecting a Homo Superior will be disappointed. No sooner has Mickey joined the TARDIS than he finds himself trapped in a white void where the Captain "Mary Sue" Jones fighting the Mara. While the initial dreamy <i>Mind Robber-</i>like horror is effective, the plot is an incoherent runaround. When the regulars are more in character when they're evil, you know it's trouble.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><i>The NuWho Companion Chronicles...</i></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<b>Hell In High Heels - </b>Andrew Weston</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A reasonably routine and straightforward tale of the Eleventh Doctor and Amy teaming up with River Song to deal with a crashed spaceship, made interesting by being told from River's POV and her quiet despair at the time paradoxes and secrets she has to endure behind her irritatingly smug facade. Enjoyable.</div>
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<b>The Boys Upstairs - </b>Al B Dickenson</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
A mammoth tale of timey-wimey body-swapping alien-ghost stuff that outstays its welcome. Ace as a narrator rapidly becomes wearying, whether it's her just-joined-the-TARDIS self or the cynical post-Doctor self in the future. It stopped making sense long before I stopped caring, probably around the time a character was revealed to be their own mother. The cover's not good either. </div>
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<b>Twelve Hungry Men - </b>Nic Ford</div>
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A silly little story of the twelve Doctors (the agreed eleven and Peter Cushing) gatecrashing a cake shop and trying to decide what their next incarnation should be. There's a very nasty sting in the tale which still works now Capaldi has been cast. Short and enjoyable, in direct contrast to the previous story.</div>
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<b>Amazing Grace - </b>Matt Powell</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Grace Holloway lives in a perfect world where she has everything she wants, and the Eighth Doctor tries to snap her out of it - and the methods he uses are shocking to say the least. Like so many of these stories, it involves enemies from the future attacking the Doctor's past and companions being placed in false environments. You could tell Season 6 was on at the time. Even so, it's worth reading.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>The Price of Wishes - </b>Andrew Weston</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The Fifth Doctor and Nyssa recover from the loss of Tegan and Adric by visiting an alien carnival where a fortune teller gives Nyssa a chance to live in a world where <i>The Keeper of Traken </i>had a happy ending. So far, so <i>Turn Left </i>but the resolution to the story is one of the biggest gut-punches I've read and not seen before. Nyssa continues to bring out the sadist in whoever writes for her. Recommended.</div>
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<b>Dust - </b>Meg McDonald</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The newly-regenerated Ninth Doctor is caught up in a mine collapse and befriends one of the miners he meets, a young girl called Keegan. Nothing not seen elsewhere, but competently done and the characters are engaging but it's hard to reconcile the contented, easy-going Ninth Doctor with the one we see on TV.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>A Ding-Dong Merrily Up High - </b>Steve Fiori</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The Tenth Doctor and Donna gatecrash a sophisticated Christmas party at the top of a skyscraper in the year 6000 and then the Daleks attack. The characterization is spot on, with the device of Donna retelling the story to her grandfather, but the plot goes nowhere and resolves itself with such ease it almost seems insulting that the revamped bronze Daleks to be used as generic canon fodder. That aside, another great tale.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Elephant in the Room - </b>Nic Ford</div>
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Dodo Chaplet is never a popular choice to be written about and those that have give her particularly unpleasant time. This story is no exception but it also ties in the various nasty fates of the Chaplet girl in this metatextual tale set between episodes two and three of <i>The War Machines</i>. Another story of the Doctor's companions being innocents caught in the crossfire from enemies from the future, it nonetheless postumously gives Dodo a dignity she never had on screen.</div>
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<b>The Seven Year Switch - </b>Paul Parncutt</div>
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Clearly saving the best till last, this story sees Eleven, Amy and Rory investigating a captured Time Lord weapon that a dictator is using to literally turn back time in seven-year increments. So, as the TARDIS crew try to stop him, they steadily become younger and younger and need to remind themselves of their future with the psychic paper. Clever, funny, heartwarming and surprising, this is a well-written tale.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
All things considered, in the final analysis there are more hits and misses even though things are understandably skewed onto NuWho and timey-wimey assassination plots. There's enough variety in tone and prose to keep one interested, but given Companion Chronicles are character pieces it's exasperating how many stories fail to remember their narrators are supposed to have a personality - while Elephant in the Room ironically turns this into a strength, <i>Twelve Hungry Men </i>can't even be bothered to have a companion.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
In summary, the standout greats - <i>The Seven Year Switch, The Price of Wishes </i>and <i>The Devil's Rock </i>with honorable mentions to <i>The Elephant in The Room</i> and <i>M2KDBRW(P)</i>.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The standout duffers would be - <i>HOTPE, The Tomorrow People, The Boys Upstairs</i>.</div>
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<div style="text-align: left;">
Definitely worth taking a look at, or as Twelve would say: <a href="http://hoophic.gomes.com.es/ccps" target="_blank">google it</a>.</div>
</div>
Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-90265754927225865252015-10-08T15:03:00.002+11:002015-10-11T00:27:57.242+11:00Voord Is The Word: Ossuary<i>(An ongoing series set in a Divergent Universe...) </i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQIStASagWIHV_JyG29TYmafCcKV8mu6nxk3902z88ZUyorGba1QJ81k_2aOEls7lU8nGD-hklBm9cEQzaMP96NSiYX11xUeGOq0qZXLY2wLJQKBO4LssZO_vGffxJ61TZi067F4pI-30/s1600/27oss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCQIStASagWIHV_JyG29TYmafCcKV8mu6nxk3902z88ZUyorGba1QJ81k_2aOEls7lU8nGD-hklBm9cEQzaMP96NSiYX11xUeGOq0qZXLY2wLJQKBO4LssZO_vGffxJ61TZi067F4pI-30/s320/27oss.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>This adventure takes between <i>Moebius Trip </i>and <i>Butterfly Wings</i></b></span><i><br /></i></div>
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<br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">It took nine days of uninterrupted work to excavate the object. Night followed day and day followed night as the sand-blowers were used constantly, peeling away layer after layer after layer. Calls from the colony became ever more frequent as the Pilot tried to find out what was going on; her requests would have been<i> </i>deliberately ignored if anyone had enough time to answer them.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As the week stretched on and the workers fought against fatique and dehydration, the nature of the buried object became more obvious. It was a steel zeppelin that had landed out in the desert and gradually been buried. Although primitive in design it was constructed of a technology far in advance of anything the human race had encountered; even a million years of harsh dust, sand and erosion under ultraviolet glares had not so much as scratched the hull.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">But like any halfway decent cult, the Esoterics had an answer for anything.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">It took very little discussion or imagination to adjust their mythology to fit around this new development. They had already believed their prophets had lead them out of the Milky Way to the edge of the frontier, that destiny had guided them to be underpaid skivvies to the mining corporations and terraforming combines. And now fate or coincidence or blind chance had ensured that they and they alone had uncovered the artifact.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As the tenth evening drew in, they uncovered a hatchway in the underside of the airship. It was unlocked and the mechanisms that opened and closed the portal still functioned perfectly; their durability was as mysterious as their nature. The inside of the zeppelin was cool and pitch-dark, with a strange fetid rubbery smell that caught at the back of the throat far worse than any dust or sand.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Poygarne was the first to enter the craft, and not merely for his rank. The others were afraid to go a place no human life had ever been - except, perhaps, in nightmares of course. But their faith and loyalty was not so easily tested and they followed their leader into the dark, into the intact derelict as though walking into the gaping mouth of a beast that might only have been sleeping.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">It was obvious that their excavations were nowhere near complete. The airship they had uncovered was the tip of the iceberg, with a far larger construct still underground. Either that, some of the brothers joked, or else it was somehow bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Poygarne himself was uncertain if they had uncovered a crypt or a tomb or an underground city. Certainly if it was an airship as it appeared, it was some kind of cargo freighter - the vast oval hold they soon found was filled with polished metallic caskets like hexagonal hat boxes stacked one atop the other. They numbered in the tens of hundreds, and there was no telling if this was the only hold.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The brothers reverently opened the first of the caskets and then another. Each one contained a strange helmet designed for a humanoid head with two visors for eyes, a barred grille for a mouth and two V-shaped horns that curved along the sides like fins. Sprouting from the snout of the visor at the front of the mask was a black antennae ending with recievers that were either circular, triangular or crescent shaped.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Poygarne cradled the helmet in his hands, marvelling at the strange flexibility of the material. It seemed to weigh less than nothing and it tingled ever-so-slightly against his fingertips. A transporter of helmets seemed odd, at least until they discovered the vulcanized rubber suits at the bottom of each container. A uniform, perhaps? The dress of an army older than mankind.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"O Great and Powerful Synthesizer of All Matter And Life," he sang softly to himself. "Lord of the Primeval Chaos, Mightiest of All Creators, your faithful children have traversed the sunless gulfs of eternity to bear witness to your resurrection. Could this ritualized garments be intended for us to wear?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">So saying, Poygarne threw back his hood, placed the visored mask over his face and pulled the helmet down over the back of his neck. The headpiece seemed to stretch and then contract, as if making itself comfortable over his skull. Such intelligent fabrics were commonplace and expensive, and none were really surprised that the helmet could personalize itself to the wearer.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">But then Poygarne began to scream in agony.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Eventually, the screams stopped.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #8e7cc3;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And by that time the creature wearing the helmet was no long Poygarne.</span></span></span><br />
<i></i>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-76078486159783108772015-10-08T03:30:00.000+11:002015-10-11T23:56:25.286+11:00Voord Is The Word: Legacy of the Voord<i>(An ongoing series set in a Divergent Universe...)</i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4j-ncTuktbH6_BtJBW6WDWvzDegTVdcR38lWedLoG18NRNHevKemnUTgUqAdYSkU8qw8yRwemTvwE3plpGJu9Yr83tWF3HoLn82uNeStnhXYCPYzXlqM95DCczom5j0Xk0S28nxkJfydH/s1600/24lotv.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4j-ncTuktbH6_BtJBW6WDWvzDegTVdcR38lWedLoG18NRNHevKemnUTgUqAdYSkU8qw8yRwemTvwE3plpGJu9Yr83tWF3HoLn82uNeStnhXYCPYzXlqM95DCczom5j0Xk0S28nxkJfydH/s320/24lotv.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>This adventure takes place between <i>The Second Coming </i>and <i>Knight-Fall</i></b></span></div>
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<br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The star-studded canopy over the warm pink-coloured world of Lakertya was normally a monochrome realm of infinite white stars against pitch blackness. But now a navy-blue police public call box was spinning towards Lakertya, and it seemed this splash of colour was a sign of more to come.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Suddenly a beam of light sliced through the night towards the TARDIS. The bolt of energy exploded into multicoloured shards like fragments from a shattered rainbow. Tossed hither and tither, police box was struck by another bolt and then another. The bombardment continued, like a swarm of multicoloured insects chasing the runaway time machine as it struckled to break free.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">***</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Hold on, Mel!" yelled the Doctor over the din, frantically re-setting controls on the console. "Hold on!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Mel clung on to the edge of the console as the room shuddered and swayed around her. "What is it?" she shouted, unnerved by the sudden onslaught. "What's attacking us?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Doctor spared a glance at a monitor display. "Focused beams of radiation!" He shook his head in disbeleif. "I don't know how I missed these readings…" He hauled himself to another panel and studied the read-outs. "It's coming from the planet Lakertya!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Oh, the people down there don't like us!" observed Mel wryly.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"If memory serves, they're peaceful people so I don't under—"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Doctor's words were lost to history as a series of explosions burst from above, brilliant white sparks showering down from where the walls met the ceiling near the scanner screen. The vibration rippling though the TARDIS increased wildly, and the Doctor and Mel were flung against the console. Before them, warning lights flashed madly and several video-screens lit up with the words <b><i>DANGER – RADIATION PENETRATING OUTER PLASMIC SHELL!</i></b> flashing anxiously.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Just how deadly <i>is </i>this radiation?" shouted Mel, then realized she couldn't feel her fingers wrapped around the console edge. The numbness was spreading through arms, down her legs, a kind of strange cool sleepiness. "I must say... I'm feeling pretty peculiar,” she complained, her head suddenly too heavy for her neck to support.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Doctor was suffering the same groggy disorientation as he struggled to keep hanging onto the console. "You... you should be all right, Mel, don't worry," he called, surprised at how slurred his voice had become. "You may lose consciousness, but I'm afraid..."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">With a sickly groan, Mel passed out and fell to the shaking floor with a jolt that drove the air from her lungs.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Doctor blinked and peered muzzily over the controls at her inert body. It was getting harder and harder for him to think. "Mel? Mel!" he shouted, but she didn't react. He let go of the console and collapsed to his knees beside her and fumbled to check the pulse at her neck. "Oh, she's out cold!" he realized miserably. "Oh, Mel... what I was going to say was 'it's deadly to <i>Time Lords</i>'."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The buffeting control room was making him nauseous and the Doctor grunted, slumping back onto his haunches. "Oh, so that's it?" he sighed, barely able to find the strength to speak. "Oh well." The next jolt slammed him onto his back, staring up at the underside of the control console. He grunted, but didn't have the energy to get back up. His whole body had gone numb as though he'd been given a general anesthetic. “Oh, I've had a good innings... all those lives I've lived... I hope the footprint I leave will be light but apposite...”</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>It's far from being all over, </i>murmured a voice that seemed both inside and outside his head. It was a man's voice, soft with a Scottish burr to it.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Doctor tried to focus his gaze. "Who said that?" he groaned in bewilderment. "Who is that? Who's there?" Then his eyes rolled up in his head and he lost conscious. A strange silver-blue glow was starting to gather itself around his hands and face, burning brighter and stronger with every passing moment. The Doctor’s facial features blurred like a wax mask melting, swirling like quicksilver.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The TARDIS suddenly lurched to the right, and the glowing Time Lord rolled onto his front. On the other side of the console, Mel slithered slightly away from her friend and the toolkit by the exercise bike collapsed with a loud clattering. Neither of them moved as the strange cacophony of sound reached a crescendo.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">*** </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Engines howling in protest, the TARDIS tumbled and rolled from fresh impacts. The salvos of glowing light seared unnerringly towards the boxlike shape, straining the dimensional bonds that held the time-space craft together. The automatic systems took the only remaining course of action to escape the blistering energy pulses raking across the exterior - precisely what the instigators of the attack intended.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The TARDIS had been forced into a landing...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">***</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The intense enslaught was making the central console shudder and rocked between the unconscious bodies of the occupants. The whole interior creaked and groaned as the TARDIS began a series of emergency dimensional shifts to seek shelter on the planet Lakertya.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Suddenly the time machine was plunging through reality like a rollercoaster in free-fall...</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">***</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ikona took a chance. He broke cover from where he'd hidden at the cliff-edge and prepared to run, even though he'd be clearly silhouetted against the skyline. The invaders' attention seemed focussed elsewhere, their black forms distinct against the treeless, boulder-strewn plateau below. Lakertya had not always been so barren, colourless and uninviting. Not before the Voord came.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">There was a strange disjointed racket above him and Ikona realized the Voord were turning to identify the source. He threw himself to the ground and twisted his head to look up at whatever was causing what sounded like a cavalry of tortured horses whinneying in agony. As he watched, Ikona saw a rainbow of ever-changing like curve out of the salmon-pink sky and onto the plateau.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A dark blue shape plummeted through the atmosphere, caught like a leaf down a drainpipe. The air above the sand shimmered yellow, green, purple and then with an enormous juddering thump it was suddenly all over. The TARDIS was standing on the barren rock as though it had always been there.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Voord surrounded the strange box, having clearly expected its arrival.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">***</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Inside the TARDIS, all was now calm and still. Mel still lay unconscious on the floor by the wall. The Doctor still lay on his front, concealed on the other side of the console that didn't quite hide the strange fiery glow engulfing his head and hands.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">With a low purring sound, the outside doors opened. The leader of the Voord strode over the threshhold and regarded the lifeless forms on the control room form. Its companions followed it into the TARDIS; one of them advancing towards Mel.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"The human is of no relevence," barked the leader in a stern voice. "The Time Lord is our quarry."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Two Voord moved around the control room to the Doctor's lifeless body, reaching out with their webbed claws to roll him onto his back. As the Time Lord lay face up on the floor, the regeneration process completed itself. The silver-blue blur of distortion his facial features had dissolved into finally stopped shifting and swirling, reforming and settling into a new arrangement.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The blonde curls were now short dark hair framing the eyes, nose and mouth of a completely different man. The exotic multicoloured clothes sagged, hanging in folds over a shorter, narrower body. The Doctor had changed, the regeneration triggered precisely as they had planned.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">For a moment the two Voord seemed to stare, entranced, at the prone figure on the floor. Then, without a word, they picked him up between them and carried him out of the TARDIS as they had been instructed.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A new era was beginning.</span></span></span>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-9594359855763595492015-10-08T01:00:00.000+11:002015-10-12T19:02:19.953+11:00Voord is the Word: The Voord-Makers<i>(An ongoing series set in a Divergent Universe...) </i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi97pFW7p91fGR-uYNCanhIc_Sjh325AZ-Mz1Vxj3TOZPmdnl5AoFWz5u91A6BATfMdrpLuluQyqhTWKW001qbGmoeLaYRgPjTLmNCb0T-J2UqK7Sxj9qISSVg9Nr8oVtT-MqF_3u1NFXYO/s1600/21tvm.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi97pFW7p91fGR-uYNCanhIc_Sjh325AZ-Mz1Vxj3TOZPmdnl5AoFWz5u91A6BATfMdrpLuluQyqhTWKW001qbGmoeLaYRgPjTLmNCb0T-J2UqK7Sxj9qISSVg9Nr8oVtT-MqF_3u1NFXYO/s320/21tvm.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> </i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>This adventure takes between <i>Circus of Destiny </i>and <i>Hex</i> </b></span><i><br /></i></div>
<br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Calistillo looked down across the Ascension Hive, her eyes blazing in triumph. From her high gantry, he could see hundreds of newly-harvested citizens, lined up and waiting for her command. The final few citizens stumbled to their feet and took their places in the rows of wetsuit-clad, masked warriors. The helmets covered their dead, empty faces and their useless former identities. They were nothing but creatures for her command. This is what it would be like when she ruled all of Voord Magnii, Calistillo thought - the endless, exquisite fleeing of absolute power.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Calistillo's expression soon soured. "Not enough," she said softly. "Only a few hundred of all the people in the land. They huddle and cower out their in the silent ruins when they should have answered the call to battle, to ascension! All willing volunteers are now this legion but there are still more recruits out there. We shall harvest them and enlighten them by force. The time has come for the army to march! Seek all citizens within the city. Locate, retrieve and harvest," ordered the Queen of the Voord. "Stalk the streets, hunt down any who walk in open, break down the doors and take those who hide indoors!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Her subjects nodded to indicate their compliance and the monstrous figures strode out of the chamber with unhurried strides. The Voord had been given and order and they would not rest until they had achieved what was required of them. They were better than the living creatures they had once bled and feared and died.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Of that, Calistillo had no doubt and the Voord knew no other truth.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">***</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Voord marched out of the Hive and down the zig-zagging walkway that connected the tower to the thoroughfares opposite. The sunlight filtering down through the ocean sky was reflected off their polished helmets and glinting antennae. They made their way out into the city, a massive certainty in each measurd step of their flippered feet. As they entered the main street, the two rows of Voord dispersed with pairs heading off down steps and sidestreets, their deceptively-faceless helmets scanning the shadows for movement. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Down on the street level, those citizens still outdoors looked up in surprise at the dull, rhythmic slapping noise from the overcity above. The noise grew louder and nearer and men, women and children stared open-mouthed as they saw a phalanx of glossy black figures come into view on the transverse ramps. The dark shapes advanced towards ground level like an inexorable black wave, their huge triangular head glinting in the shafts of daylight between the debris-strewn upper levels.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Some screamed, and many ran in the panic. Others stood their ground and were wrestled and overcome by the superhuman-strong creatures with their unblinking visor-like eyes. They took hold of their victims in headlocks and bodily carried them back to the lifts and stairwells to return to the Hive. Despite the hundreds of Voord leaving the tower, there was easy access for them to return with fresh material for the harvest.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">***</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Trying hard not to panic, Peri and Ailysan carely retreated back along the columned arcade. As they reached the mouth of the arcade, a midnight-black shape slithered into the daylight and barred their way outside. Simultaneously a second Voord appeared at the entrance they'd fled, trapping the pair in the arcade.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Peri looked between the two expressionless monsters; they stood motionless and silent, to the point they could have been statues. There was no clue that they were even aware of the fugitives they had captured. But just as she felt confident enough to risk making a move, the Voord ahead of them drew its dagger.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ailysan seemed mesmerized as the sunlight glinted and flashed on the polished blade, lighting up the empty oblong sockets in the front of the Voord helmet. It was unfeeling, empty, dead and she found herself wondering who the poor creature had once been, if they'd ever known each other... and now they never would. Anything human had been burnt out and replaced and now there was nothing but Voord.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #3d85c6;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">And soon that would be their fate as well...</span></span></span>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-58494902872793721722015-10-07T19:56:00.001+11:002015-10-11T18:43:45.342+11:00Voord is the Word: Retribution<i>(An ongoing series set in a Divergent Universe...) </i><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQnibR0S31v27HkVf32i0KtmLi74dJCZNUrAS6jmA7kH8h6MvUBnIVyW2tVvy2g-HRjZbzASLHsaU50wNWQBiMpq3B3pM7CjZTzYAUwqORRZYYJt2AvWGB3R43hipYZLssPg2CGFOAUg2w/s1600/20ret.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQnibR0S31v27HkVf32i0KtmLi74dJCZNUrAS6jmA7kH8h6MvUBnIVyW2tVvy2g-HRjZbzASLHsaU50wNWQBiMpq3B3pM7CjZTzYAUwqORRZYYJt2AvWGB3R43hipYZLssPg2CGFOAUg2w/s320/20ret.jpg" width="320" /></a></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> </i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>This adventure takes between <i>Way Down Yonder</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i> </i>and </b></span><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i>The House That Ur-Cjak Built</i> </b></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Turlough's stomach churned yet again at the foul stench from Vaeta's burned flesh. He'd hoped he would start to get used to the smell but by now was beginning to think it would put him off cooked meat for life; still a long life as a vegetarian was better than a shorter one as a carnivore. He glanced across to Nyssa, but she was as inscrutable as ever, watching as Vaeta and Kalfin exchanged barbs.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"It is most unexpected to encounter you again, Vaeta," the Voord leader intoned. </span></span></span><span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The dead voice was an impassive as the mask it emerged from behind.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"I'm sure it is." Vaeta mangled a bone between his scarred, mangled jaws and spat them into the dark corner where the rest of his meal lay decomposing out of sight. "You probably thought we were all dead."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"You have proved your longevity. What do you want with us?"</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Vaeta
plucked the blade from Kalfin's belt, as though fascinated by the
glinting knife. He dragged it across the doorframe with a spray of grey
dust. "We want revenge. Justice. To claim what is ours." He turned, the
point of the knife slicing through the air close to the chest of the
captive Voord leader.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Turlough flinched, expecting the Voord to be killed in front of them.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Kalfin didn't flinch or even react to the threat. If anything it seemed bored. "Such originality. Do you have a specific grudge against the Voord or is to assuage your guilt and shame? You all knew the risk of the harvest and price of failure if you were deemed unworthy."</span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Your machinery was at fault!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"I had forgotten how pedantic you could be," Kalfin mused.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"We did all we were asked of, and more. We did not fail."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Yes, you did," retorted Kalfin. "You joined the Voord to swell our ranks and aide our cause. You failed miserably to do either. Did any of your honestly expect gratitude and rewards? Did you think we would grant you a commendation for being useless?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Vaeta was quiet for a moment. His rasping voice was tight. "None of us expected to be left to die."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Yet you are still alive," the Voord pointed out. "How nice for you."</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"But many of our friends and colleagues and family are not. The Voord butchered them."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Kalfin stepped forward. Everyone was so fixed on the argument between them, no one made a move to restrain the prisoner. "But Vaeta, you are Voord. You are still under our control - or why else would we be talking this this? You cannot lure us halfway across the galaxy and then deny we have no influence over your behavior. I never thought you naïve." Had the Voord leader still possessed a face, Nyssa was sure it would be twisted into a cold smile.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"You are here so we may kill you," hissed Vaeta angrily. "We are not fools!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"That fact remains open to debate, I am afraid."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The guards limped forward and seized the Voord's rubbery arms, seizing it.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Don't mock us!" shouted Vaeta. "Or I may kill you here and now!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Do I not recieve a last request before I die?" asked Kalfin innocently.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"You have one."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Just one," said the Voord, and swiveled its helmet to look at Turlough and Nyssa. "You time travelers shall save my life. If you do not, if you allow me to perish than in a few zeniths I will be unable to rescind the order to execute your companions Tegan and the Doctor."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"What?" Nyssa explained.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"You're bluffing," accused Turlough calmly, but he was far from certain.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Fear is more powerful than money," Kalfin said. It turned to Vaeta. "Do you still trust them to be your allies now I have their friends' lives under my control? Even if you kill me now, Vaeta, can you be sure they won't turn against you? Let us see just how little it takes to make your little commune tear itself apart!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Vaeta," said Nyssa firmly. "The Doctor is far more use to you alive than Kalfin is to you dead."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"The Doctor is a Time Lord," hissed Vaeta, pressing the tip of the knife into the side of the Voord's torso above its right hip. "He can regenerate to survive whatever execution Kalfin has ordered."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Maybe but Tegan can't!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Then at least I can avenge her death ahead of time!" the ringleader laughed and plunged the knife deep into the sensitive nerve cluster in the Voord's side. A wet, muffled grunt of pain emerged from the grille in the mask and Kalfin convulsed against its guards. Vaeta twisted the knife first clockwise then counter-clockwise and then tore it loose. The triangular helmet sagged forward, dragging the Voord's body free from the guards and onto the filthy floor of the metal shack.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Vaeta regarded his dead enemy for a moment and then turned on his heel to face Nyssa and Turlough.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: magenta;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"And now we must decide what to do with you..."</span></span></span></div>
</div>
Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-85879796267418492262015-10-07T18:18:00.002+11:002015-10-10T21:10:22.572+11:00Voord is the Word: Syncretic Interface<i>(An ongoing series set in a Divergent Universe...)</i><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>This adventure takes between <i>Hebos </i>and <i>The Torson Triumvirate</i> </b></span><i><br /></i></div>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /><span style="color: #b6d7a8;">The Doctor, Adric and Nyssa dashed over the wooden footbridge to the other side. Soon they were pushing their way through the trees and bushes, unaware one of the Balancers was watching them through the branches of a thick shrubbery. The balancer lifted his wrist-communicator to his lips and whispered a report to control.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Where are we making for?" asked Adric worriedly.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Doctor led them swiftly down a dirt track. "As far away from the compound and the spaceport as we can get. We'll be safe there..."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"<i>We </i>will, perhaps but we can't leave without Tegan!" Nyssa gasped.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />"You're forgetting the TARDIS, Nyssa," the Doctor replied. "If we can get inside it in time..."</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A little ahead, a Balancer emerged from behind a thicket of trees and raised his rifle. The shrill discharge echoed throughout the woods and the trio scrambled down a hillock. Up ahead was a familiar blue shape - only for armed Balancers to spring in front of the TARDIS and bar their escape. </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Back the way we came!" ordered the Doctor.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">They turned to run, but found themselves facing Jolsko and more Balancers waiting for them.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Oh no," gasped Adric.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br />The Doctor raised his hands. "All right, all right, we give in."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"The chase is over, I'm afraid, Doctor," said Jolsko calmly. "Time to begin something new."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Oh good," said the Doctor cheerfully. "Would it be you people realizing what you're doing will destroy untold billions of lives, perhaps?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jolsko smiled and shook his head. "We have been pledged to a task and we will not stop now. The new syncretic interface your young friends have created needs to be tested on a strong, rebellious mind and you, Doctor, are the perfect candidate."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"I'd rather die, if it's all the same to you," replied the Doctor flatly.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"I'm afraid you don't have a say in matters, Doctor. That is the point of the exercise rather."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jolsko clicked his fingers and the Balancers advanced on the Doctor.</span></span> Strengthened by deep-seated loyalty, Adric hurled himself on the nearest guard but was easily caught and forced to his knees, as were the Doctor and Nyssa.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Another technician stepped forward, carrying the Mark II helmet. Stepping up to the Doctor, he raised the helmet to lower it over the Time Lord's blond head.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Jolko paused to savor the moment and then nodded. "Welcome the Voord bloodline, Doctor." </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #b6d7a8;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"No!" shouted Nyssa, but it was already too late...</span></span></span></span></span>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-58949039704746790562015-10-07T12:13:00.002+11:002015-10-10T18:20:46.286+11:00Voord Is The Word: The Fate of the Voord<i>(An ongoing series set in a Divergent Universe...)</i><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>This adventure takes between <i>Multiface </i>and <i>The Sea of Fear</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"The accused have been found guilty on all charges," declared Lord Savran, the scroll held between his clamp-like hands. "The totality of the crimes they have committed amount to the highest treason: crimes that endanger the very infrastructure of the Galactic Federation. In sentencing the accused species, their observed moral codes, history of interracial cooperation and loyalty to the Federation ideals of tolerance and quality have been taken into account but none have mitigated in their favor. All records of the Voord bloodline confirm that they prioritize their own conquest and advancement over the safety and rites of Federation citizens. There is no doubt at all that the Voord leaders are fully aware of their actions, the non-validity of said actions, and the likely consequences..."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Alphek stared up at the Martian delegate, inscrutable under the strange facemask. It did not display any sign of being concerned at what was happening, or even that it was paying attention as the sentence of the entire Voord species was passed.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"This court cannot find any reason to exonerate the accused in any way of the crimes they have committed against the Galactic Federation," concluded Savran. "The sentence is therefore that the entire Voord bloodline suffer extinction beyond all possibility of molecular preservation. The neural relay connecting the Voord Alphek to the rest of Voord kind will be overloaded with psychotropic energy until saturation and finally disintegration occur. Within the hour, every Voord in the universe will be dead."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The distinctive chimes of the court procedings rang out through the Judgment Chamber, and the Draconian guards lead the unresisting Alphek onto the illuminated podium. The huge transparent tube descended slowly from above, covering Alphek's helmet, then shoulders, torso, legs and finally sealed shut.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Doctor and Sarah ran through the archway onto the observation gallery overhead.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"He's not doing anything!" Sarah exclaimed in surprise. "He's just going to let them do it!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">The Doctor watched as the Alpha Centauri delegate shuffled over to the control panel, reaching out several tentacles to grasp the final alignment switches. "There's something more to this. Alphek's not the sort to perish without a fight, even if the Federation had agreed to spare his race..."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"But there are no Voord on the station, no ships nearby, there's no one else here on Alphek's side except Alphek himself!" Sarah protested, trying to understand. "And he's just letting it happen!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Alpha Centuari threw the final switch, and the glass tube around the Voord leader filled with a white, boiling light. The Voord trembled on the spot, twitching and shaking as the antennae on its mask-snout started to blaze in sympathy. Cracks began to form in the horned helmet, the metallic surface starting to peel and degenerate. The antennae was now a white-hot ring of light and Alphek twisted convulsively.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"Something is wrong!" squeaked Alpha Centauri. "The energy overload is not being transmitted!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"What's that mean?" asked Sarah, confused.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"It means the power isn't passing through Alphek into every other Voord - it's all being focussed on Alphek and Alphek alone. But he can't possibly withstand that bombardment!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">"I'm not sure about that," Sarah muttered.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Alphek's helmet was an unrecognizable horror of peeling, twisted metal. The antennae had melted and fused into the mess atop the Voord's neck, glowing with incandescent heat. Alphek's voice echoed around the chamber, far richer and stronger than ever before.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>At last! I have won! The long fight is over and we Voord are the victor! Your torrent of death is not sweeping away but instead is filling my mind full to bursting with more strength than ever before!</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br /></i>
"That's what he wanted all the time!" the Doctor gasped. "He's not dying, he's transforming... evolving!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>I shall be the leader of you all, the monarch that all shall obey! Nothing can stand in my way now! The Federation is mine! No planet in and galaxy, no cosmos in the universe can resist me. All life shall bow down, all thought will worship!</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;">Sarah recoiled in horror. "It's all been a trap..."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #e69138;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>The stars themselves will lie beneath my feet, and all the voices of creation shall cry my name in triumph! Alphek! Alphek! ALPHEEEEKKKKKK!!!!</i></span></span></span>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-46559403001348262732015-10-06T23:32:00.002+11:002015-10-10T19:14:59.774+11:00Voord Is The Word: The Voord Paradise<i>(An ongoing series set in a Divergent Universe...)</i><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfoBvyS5wUIS8R8MDhAHnnH0bYVqDQoGvsw24tLHAWa_gg-DOvSsKmriRCpyMk-bN3fiaFq5ekN_f4ry0Rf_iWKVYTL4bkV7WcW6nqTMopsirNlj9UpMfpPfriKeTm1FO-u8e1DkMf3le9/s1600/04tvp.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfoBvyS5wUIS8R8MDhAHnnH0bYVqDQoGvsw24tLHAWa_gg-DOvSsKmriRCpyMk-bN3fiaFq5ekN_f4ry0Rf_iWKVYTL4bkV7WcW6nqTMopsirNlj9UpMfpPfriKeTm1FO-u8e1DkMf3le9/s320/04tvp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>This adventure takes between <i>The Herdsmen of Aquarius </i>and <i>The Imps</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As they made their way back up the hill, Polly still felt sick to her stomach. She could still smell the dying man's hot, coppery blood as the shaman had ripped the crossbow bolt from his side. Polly still couldn't believe that these people - humanity in the far future - had become so backward they refused to believe in anything other than faith healing. Like the Doctor had said, even Neanderthals and cavemen had better medical treatment.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">She knew Ben was just as upset, though he was much better at her at hiding it. As for the Doctor she couldn't tell if he was upset, angry, amused or even thinking about what had happened at all. All she could be sure of was that he wanted to find Jamie, with or without the help of the last of mankind.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"So, I guess we're going have to look for the Voords on our lonesome, then?" Ben guessed.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The Doctor peered through the treeline of the hill. "Well, we know that the villagers aren't going to help us. They'll probably spend the next few weeks in mourning."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Well, they all knew the poor man," Polly argued. "In a small town like that, they were bound to be upset when he died."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Not so upset they'd argue with that crazy witchdoctor though, are they, duchess?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Suddenly there was a rumble from behind them. They turned and saw the early evening sky turned a dazzling purple by a firework flare that illuminated the whole village.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"What's happening?" yelped Polly, startled.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Maybe they're letting off firecrackers for the funeral," suggested Ben. He didn't sound convinced.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"No," gasped the Doctor in a grave voice. "It's the Voord... they're attacking!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">He pointed with his recorder to the south of the valley, and Ben and Polly saw dozens of jet-black eel-like figures running into the village, firing their rifles. The villagers were mowed down even as they reached for their pitchforks and crossbows. As the attackers came closer, they could see the leader of the Voord was not wearing one of the distinctive helmets and his face was a mess of scar tissue and bare muscle - but even at this distance it was clear his expression was emotionless, business-like. He shouted simply to be heard over the din, and there was nothing but cold determination in his voice as he bellowed orders to his followers.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Exterminate them! Kill them all! Burn the last of Darwin's children!"</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As if on cue, a young girl of no more than seven ran out from a hut and approached the attackers. "Stops! Stops! Please!" she wailed, only for the Voord leader to aim his blaster at the little girl's unprotected head.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Polly was on the verge of screaming when the attacker lowered the rifle. Instead of killing the child, he effortlessly grabbed her by the scruff of her tunic and threw her into the arms of one of the Voord. "Still young enough to be harvested! Take it back to our lair!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Even as the Voord slithered away with the struggling child, her mother ran through the confusion and flames at the edge of the village. She saw her daughter being taken away and ran to reclaim her, screaming in desperate hysteria.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">She barely made three steps before the Voord leader blasted her down. He barely spared the dead mother a glance as he advanced into the village, smoke still rising from the barrel of his blaster. "We shall proceed!" he ordered.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Ben looked in horror at the burning village. "They're murdering every one of them!"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"There's nothing we can do for them, Ben," said the Doctor, voice thick with disgust.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The whole valley was now lit by the blazing village, and the sound of gunfire was drowned out by the screams of terror and agony from the helpless townsfolk. Polly felt the warm giddiness of unconscous approaching, on the verge of fainting. "So that's what happens to the last human beings on Earth?" she said, tears in her eyes.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"No," said the Doctor bleakly. "There's still Jamie. We've still got save him!"</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Least we might save someone," Ben agreed.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">They continued up the hill in silence.</span></span></span>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-80735839137267673502015-10-06T21:04:00.003+11:002015-10-10T18:09:01.125+11:00Voord Is The Word: Domain of the Voord<i>(An ongoing series set in a Divergent Universe...)</i><br />
<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>This adventure takes between <i>Farewell, Great Macedon </i>and <i>The Hidden Planet</i></b></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"My name is Susan," she said, breaking the silence in the cell.<br /> <br />The Voord did not look up from the floor. "What do you want?" it asked, disinterestedly.<br /> <br />"Are you all right? They haven’t harmed you?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> This time, the strange triangular head twisted around to face her with a barely-audible creak of rubber. The deep, unnatural voice was intrigued. "Why should you care?" <br /><br /> Susan's temper flared. "I care if you’re being ill-treated!" she snapped.</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">The faceless mask stared at her for a moment. "I am treated well enough," rasped the voice, sounding almost philosophical. "There has been the occasional… <i>unpleasantness.</i>"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /> It wasn't hard to imagine what that unpleasantness could be. The Voord had a ship full of angry, righteous avengers eager for its alien blood. It said a lot about the security that the prisoner had not already been killed while it was helpless.<br /><br />"I’m sorry," said Susan at last, unsure if she was apologizing for his experiences or the fact she was allied with those who would inflict them on an unarmed prisoner.<br /> <br />"No lasting effects," the Voord reflected. "A few bruises only, I am sure."<br /> <br />"I’ll go now," said Susan, feeling slightly wretched for confirming her fears.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /> She hadn't reached the cell door when the Voord spoke once again.<br /><br />"You’re not Hydran, are you?"</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /> Susan looked back at the prisoner. "No, I’m not," she said honestly. Was the creature assuming her civilized behavior proved she was not a native to the planet? Or was it something else.<br /> <br />It was something else.<br /> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">"Were you on Marinus also?" asked the Voord.<br /> <br />"How do you know that?" she asked warily, unsettled by the prisoner's knowledge.<br /> <br />"Your friend wished me to know he had defeated Yartek," replied the strange voice. "Although I should hope where Yartek failed, I would have succeeded," it continued and Susan was sure there was a note of wry amusement in the inhuman tones. The voice sobered with clear concern. "But child, you are sad," the Voord realized, almost upset.<br /> <br />Susan steeled herself and kept any emotion out of her voice. "Your attack killed my grandfather and a friend called Barbara," she announced flatly.<br /><br /> The jackal-like head nodded. "That explains it, then," the Voord said to itself.<br /> <br />"Won’t you even <i>pretend </i>to be sorry?" Susan shouted at him, losing her temper.<br /> <br />Had it been free to, Susan was sure the prisoner would have shrugged. "Death is a consequence of war," it reminded her flatly. "I doubt my own circumstance will end well..."<br /> <br />"But this is a war you brought to a people who wanted no war with you!"<br /><br /> "Immaterial," replied the creature without pause. "We bring the gift of Voord leadership."<br /> <br />"Gift?" echoed Susan, bewildered.<br /> <br />"Certainly. But enough," it sighed. "I am tired. You can leave me now."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"> The haughty, unrepentant superiority of a creature in chains was so infuriating, Susan forgot her curiosity or sympathy. If the prisoner behaved like this around the other Hydrans, it was no wonder they soon turned to violence. She, at least, could leave while she still had her dignity.<br /><br />"Oh, I’m going!" she vowed and knocked on the cell door.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">There was a humiliating pause as the guards outside unlocked and opened the hatch.<br /> <br />"And, girl?" called the Voord lazily.<br /> <br />"Susan!" she snapped.<br /> <br />"You may visit me again," the voice said grandly, as though granting her a great boon. But then its voice became kinder, almost human once more. "Goodbye," it concluded softly.<br /> <br />"Goodbye," said Susan in reply, disconcerted by the sudden respect in its tone.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #6fa8dc;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Perhaps she would return to visit the prisoner after all...</span></span></span>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-59979618663949840822015-10-05T23:15:00.001+11:002015-10-05T23:21:49.088+11:00ZOMGWTFBF - (slight return)I feel it right to say that the interweb has been positively buzzing the last few weeks with the speculation (from reliable sources, it must be said) that David Tennant and Catherine Tate were going to reprise their roles as Doctor Ten and Donna Noble for BF. I myself welcomed this, given that pair are my favorite RTD era lineup, and also the implication that everything pre-Matt Smith was now up for grabs by Nick Briggs' various waggly protruberances.<br />
<br />
I mean, was it just eight years ago when Nev Fountain's <i>The Kingmaker </i>was considered revolutionary for its wacky cameos from the Fourth and Ninth Doctors? (It sure as hell didn't earn any credits for its dramatic content). Now Tom Baker's BF credits outnumber some TV Doctors and while Eccleston may not be headed anywhere near a microphone, they have resurrected the Third Doctor. For BF the vastness of equity is no obstacle, and their garden is a whole universe of BBC light entertainment.<br />
<br />
There was a time <i>Gallifrey 6 </i>was pushing the boundaries by having bronze Daleks on the cover plus tip-toe-hints Narvin started the time war. Now we have the Fifth Doctor fighting Weeping Angels, Kate Stewart versus the Autons, the Eighth Doctor flirting with River Song, Torchwood now an official Moat Studios production and then, then...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.bigfinish.com/img/news/the_war_doctor_otm_image_large.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://www.bigfinish.com/img/news/the_war_doctor_otm_image_large.jpg" height="279" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>did NOT see this coming...</b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
Yes.<br />
<br />
I shit you not.<br />
<br />
We thought that <i>Dark Eyes </i>was going to be as close to Eight in the last great time war, but no! BF have announced a five-volume box set with PMG and John Hurt on either side of <i>The Night of the Doctor</i>. I'm glad it has come out during Mental As week coz right now I be fearing I ain't taken my meds.<br />
<br />
People, we didn't even JOKE about this. And now it is real.<br />
<br />
Of course, the whole "dude, the time war is for the fans to imagine" stuff is out the window and thus a shedload of my own fiction is now highly, highly likely be decanonized. (But not CERTAIN to be decanonized, given that B7: Jenna's Story fits better with my Season E than the rest of the <i>Liberator Chronicles</i>). Still, given more Hurt Locker Doctor and PMG - dare I dream of Eight turning into a Harvy-Scorpius type sidekick of the War Doctor? - who can complain?<br />
<br />
In fact, let us take this moment to celebrate the fanfics that have been thrown onto the eternal firepits of unauthorized Chathamologicalcanon...<br />
<br />
<span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>The Doctor's TARDIS flew through space on its pre-set co-ordinates to the Seriphia Galaxy, in close formation with its two comrades. It didn't travel in time or anything sensible like that, what with it being a time machine et all. It just flew like a spaceship. A very slow spaceship.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Because it was a very slow spaceship and also had a limitless interior dimension, it had also been redecorated in Ed Thomas potato chic (2005 period RTD time band) because it the ramshackle coral look certainly befits a highly-technological temporal empire at the height of its powers. And also a bunch of Chancellery Guards were standing awkwardly packed in the console room because, again, it would just be stupid of them to do anything but stand ridigly to attention for five hours doing absolutely sod all.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Our Byronic hero Dr Who was standing next to deadparn snarker Narvin (who you might remember as redshirt # 45 in <b>Torchwood II: </b>Sleeper) at the console as they headed to the Seriphia Galaxy. In space. Very slowly. Despite all those times the TARDIS could travel five billion years in three minutes if it was particularly important and the bicycle pump worked.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"I was just sneering at the decor," said the Doctor, in a very credible and naturalistic manner.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Narvin didn't smile because why the hell would he?</i></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Well yes, it's depressing isn't it? Don't you think? If it isn't broke why fix it? The steampunk design was wonderful, why change that? I mean just look at those walls, look at that colour scheme. It's absolutely ghastly. It's not even remotely pretty. What was so wrong with the old interior? Even on a tactile level, it was nicer. I loved having a warm carpet under my feet. I could have walked barefoot in it, not this metal grill that digs into my heels..."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Shut the fuck up you liberal hippy!" Narvin spoke over him firmly, driving his words at full speed. "How dare you complain when we've decided to make your museum piece shitbox a troop transporter, pile all your personal belongings into the zero room and covering everything in bloody coral! Gallifreyan soldiers have different tastes to you, you stupid wuss, and you must act like a soldier now instead of a wishy-washy, namby-pamby ineffectual homosexual!"</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"I sense you are trying to tell me something," said the Doctor, hugging a teddybear like the loser he was.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"You've enjoyed your life as a freeloading renegade, but now that life is over. You have responsibilities now to your fellow soldiers. So you'll have to be that bit more conscientious and compromising from now on, because things are required of you. You can't hang on to personal wants, wishes, politics or agendas anymore."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Freeloading renegade? I've saved each and every one of you useless pricks a dozen times. I mean, Rassilon himself thought I was so awesome he made me an extradimensional hitman! What have you ever done with your life, you gonad? Actually, aren't YOU the one that started this time war anyway?" </i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br />Narvin pressed on, holding his finger in the air to punctuate an example. "For instance, you clearly don't like guns, but from now on you're going to have to be handling guns and using them because you and your fellow soldiers are going into combat and they're relying on you to watch their backs and be ready to shoot to kill to protect them. And if you can't live up to that responsibility to them, then you'll be to blame for their deaths. So it won't do to get squeamish about killing Daleks."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"I blow up solar systems with Daleks in them, Narvin. When was the last time you actually faced a Dalek?" </i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Narvin smirked a little to himself before making a comeback "Y'know Doctor, it amazes me that someone as mild mannered as yourself lasted so long out there with the savage lesser species without getting torn to shreds. You must have gotten involved in one of the many penny a dozen wars and conflicts out there."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Yeah, so surely my expertise should have greater weight than yours, you massive shrunken testicle." The Doctor looked at him sympathetically. "The last time you actually got off your backside, you lost two civil wars, unleashed a zombie plague, lost all your regenerations, oh and you actually started the Time War!"</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"I beg your pardon?" Narvin seemed affronted by the suggestion.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br />The Doctor wasn't deterred. "You are a verbose, sanctimonious, bigoted loudmouthed old fool."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Narvin sucked the air. "I see. Romana told you then."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"In fact, I'm amazed you actually think you have some kind of authority when logically everything you've done suggests the best way you could help Gallifrey is to lock yourself in your room and blow your brains out. Why the hell am I even helping you losers? Just go back in time and nuke Skaro before Mr. and Mrs. Davros got a bit frisky one night."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br />Narvin snorted. "You know Doctor, I never understood your ridiculous and supercilious notions of being a radical symbol of egotistical, freeloading individualism."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>The Doctor stared at him. "Did we turn over two pages at once?" </i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Well I'm not entirely sure what you were trying to symbolize exactly, but frankly all you really symbolized to the people of Gallifrey was an eternal, stunted adolescent and an embarrassment."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Yeah. Ouch. If I hadn't run away from you and spent every waking hour avoiding you retards like the plague that would actually suggest I have the slightest interest in your three-fifths of an opinion." </i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"But there was one exceptional time when you single handedly defeated the Sontarans when they invaded us, and briefly you became a much talked of hero for that, a living legend. But that's a long time ago now, and nothing you've done since then has impressed us."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Not when I overthrew the entire government while never leaving a courtroom?"</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Apart from that."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Or when I stole Gallifreyan WMDs for shits and giggles and wiped out alien battlefleets?"</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Excluding those?"</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"How about the time I single-handedly stopped Morbius from conquering the entire universe and then also prevented his stellar manipulators from letting Gallifrey be overrun by some centipedes."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Anyone could have done that?"</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Saving the web of time from the Neverpeople?"</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Fluke."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Stopping Kortis from retconning the entire Time Lord species?"</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Jury's out."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Or preventing the Master from using the Eminence to take over all sentient life?" </i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Look, most of the time your victories are reset buttons."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Unlike your failures, Narvin, which are just the gifts that keep on giving." </i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>Narvin curtly brushed down the air. Whatever that means. "Maybe, but no-one apart from the President, the Castellan, the Chanceller, the entire population of Prydon Academy and the Shaboogans think you've done anything special. A man becomes a hero not through one person loving him a lot, but because a lot of people love him a little. It just didn't make you a hero in the eyes of the masses, I'm afraid. Nor did destroying the Master, when you finally got round to it. Perhaps if you'd done it back when he was a feared, evil menace that every time tot had nightmares about, when he was destroying planets, assassinating our president or threatening to destroy us with the Doomsday weapon, you would have been a heralded hero for it, vanquishing our little boogeyman."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Wow. <b>Not </b>a proportional response." </i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"But you left it too late. The Master had already become a far worse has-been than you, so no-one cared about him by then. It was the age of Jaded Nurturing Transference or JNT where everything you did sucked completely and frankly should have ended in 1979." He then put his hands together, stressing a self-proclaimed wise point "But you see Doctor, this war could be your chance to recapture that old glory. To be the Doctor that Gallifrey really admired again. The Doctor, the forgotten hero who destroyed the Sontarans now leading the valiant front line fight to vanquish the Daleks forever. Think about that."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>The Doctor smiled nonchalantly and then kicked Narvin in the balls.</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"Speak another word, Narvin, and I will shove hexachromite up your arse and turn it on full bore."</i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #ea9999;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><i>"OK!" Narvin squeaked. </i></span></span></span>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-28234966328067287572015-10-05T20:54:00.000+11:002015-10-06T19:18:26.619+11:00The Zeitgiest of Indecision<i>[Meanwhile, in a Hammersmith bedsit...]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>In addition to slandering bikers, Ewen has spent over a decade now continually cyberbullying another fan, Mark Goacher. Also known on the web as 'sparacus'.<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>Ooh!<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>Like me, Sparacus is a fanfic writer, and like me he has had his own labour of love targeted and ridiculed mercilessly by Ewen (though as far as I know, Ewen has not been able to stoop so low as to exploit Mark with false promises to help him with his fiction before trashing it whilst he's in hospital and in a critical condition).<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>Bastard! <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy:</b> His opinions on the current show are also frequently mocked and vilified by Ewen who will accept no other opinions on New Who other than the wholly sycophantic. He has even in the past declared that fans like Mark 'should be shot'.<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>Bloody nora!<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>Like a crazed stalker, Ewen hates Mark, but is fixated with returning constantly to the object of his resentment and tracking their every move online. I should know, he did the same to me. I don't know how Mark puts up or deals with this constant harrassment, but whatever he's doing isn't working, because this creep's clearly not going to leave him alone, judging by his latest blog posts.<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>Spartacus is probably his longest lasting target, but Mark is not alone as a victim. Gabriel Chase and yours truly are two others that have suffered prolonged harassment. The real issue is that despite his pretense at being a secular libertine, ECC is very much like George W. Bush.<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>I knew it! <br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>His world is a comic book one, very black and white, where there are only good guys and bad guys. You are either 'with him' or 'against him'. It is in fact, a child's view of the world.<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>You are so right. So, so right.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>Recently ECC or GeorgeWjnr jnr you might say, declared that Spartacus<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy:</b>Sparacus.<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>What?<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy:</b>Sparacus. Not Spartacus.<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>Oh. Anyway, that he had to 'admit' that he like an episode of the new series. As if liking one episode makes all his previous views redundant (remember my point about the black and white world). Even the most ardent fan of the show with any analytical cred has had to admit that the show is often badly written with plot holes you could drive a truck through and fill the void of actual plot with dramatic interpersonal tension on a very formulaic basis. Occasionally there have been good episodes, even Dr. Tim Stanley admits that.<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy:</b> Exactly! ...who's Tim Stanley?<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>But there are massive problems with the show, and just because ECC can't comprehend them doesn't mean they aren't there. He's like the third wave feminist who congratulates society on not having a debate about a critical social issue because she already has her way - a debate would show up her own lack of comprehension as well as her intellectual dishonesty.<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>He sees himself as the good guy, and yet as far as I know, Sparacus has never done anything bad to him to warrant such constant victimization<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>I've conversed with Spartacus<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>Sparacus!<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>Whatever. And he just thinks he's a sad git who's views are irrelevant and who had been banned from virtually every Who forum known to man.<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>Would not surprise me.<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>I've said it before and I will say it again but a lot of these Gen Y kids interpret good and bad as structures that allow them to do as they want or not do as they want. They simply lack the comprehension skills to understand why the new series is a critical failure, they are too busy being a part of something big and don't want spoilsports reminding them that it may not be true that 'if it feels good, do it'.<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>I used to think so...<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>That was Fred West's motto by the way.<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>Ahem. I used to think so about Ewen, until I realized how dangerous some of his posts are, and how far he'll go to exploit someone like me. He's a man who took advantage of me at a time I was convinced I was going to die, trashed my creative work, leaked all its spoilers and when called upon the damage he'd done with his betrayal and the life-threatening situation I was in, said, I quote "Just what was so difficult anyone with a scintillia of creativity and imagination could NOT overcome?"<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>...okay.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>That's the kind of response I'd expect from a Nazi.<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>Yes but that just demands a degree of slyness, not any analytical ability. He doesn't have any. Any form of open debate is a constant reminder of what he isn't capable of; the object of his unconditional affections is proof enough of his juvenile and inadequate mind.<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>I bet the mangina-looking bastard is parodying us as we speak.<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>He wouldn't!<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>You do not know the depths of evil and lies he is capable of - the Nazi George W Bush!<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>How dare he! I bet he's too scared to come here and talk to us!<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>Yes. This scumbag just has no conscience:<br /><br />
<b>Ronny: </b>We are living rent free in his head Tom.<br />
<br />
<b>Tommy: </b>At least we are righteous.<br />
<br />
<b>Ronny: </b>Damn straight.<br />
<br />
<i>[Long pause. They catch each other's eyes. "The Sun Always Shines on the Righteous" by Jocks Wahey starts to play. They hold hands, smile, and walk to the bedroom. A long pause. Then a strange figure bursts into the flat and screams at the top of its voice:]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Pizza Supreme: </b>IT'S CALLED...<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><i>DRAMA!!!</i></b></span>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-60993813214892241302015-10-03T20:34:00.000+10:002015-10-03T20:34:34.877+10:00101 Better Spin-Off Ideas Than "Class"Ah, remember the days when we had Doctor Who, Torchwood, The Sarah-Jane Adventures, Totally Doctor Who, K9, not to mention all the CiN and Comic Relief specials and funky animated cartoons? Nowadays Moff can barely churn out Doctor Who and an episode of Sherlock every other year but lo suddenly after years of stagnation the television people have woken up and started making locally-based minority spin-offs made by amateurs and only of interest to two or three people!<br />
<br />
Yes. <i>Class </i>- because everyone who's watched the Capaldi years have thought Coal Hill School needed further exploration. I mean, seriously? Is there left over budget from <i>MI High </i>(which let us not forget featured the Cat in a regular role fighting Davros in a similar premise) and <i>The Worst Witch? </i>Sheesh...<br />
<br />
To misquote Steve Foxx, here are 101 better ideas for a spin off instead of <i>Class</i>.<br />
<br />
1) <b><i>The Pasternoster Row Gang</i></b><br />
Because, if nothing else, the BBC wanted to make it.<br />
<br />
2) <b><i>The Sarah-Jane Adventures</i></b><br />
As we know, tons of stories were in the making and even though Liz Sladen is sadly gone there is nothing to stop Rani, Clyde, Luke and K9 from carrying on the adventures. Seriously, there are hundreds of them just waiting to be made. So, SJ isn't in it! Never stopped <i>Taggart</i>, did it?<br />
<br />
3) <i><b>Torchwood USA</b></i><br />
Because Rex Matheson and John de Lacie are better than anything Cardiff offered.<br />
<br />
4)<i><b> Dalek Empire</b></i><br />
It keeps Nick Briggs off the streets. Plus, the New Paradigm might get work.<br />
<br />
5) <b><i>Porridge And The Cyberiad</i></b><br />
Without Ricky Gervais, the litle guy must face the might of the Cyber Empire alone. Apart from you know him being Emperor of known space. Guest starring Richard Armitage as Mr. Clever.<br />
<br />
6) <b><i>Doctor Who </i>Remakes</b><br />
After all the set work for <i>An Adventure in Space & Time</i>, Mark Gatiss himself pointed out they could rerecord <i>Marco Polo </i>with David Bradley as the Doctor. So why not? All the scripts are there, the actors are there, plus it can look cheap while simultaneously being incredibly faithful to the source material. Plus we might actually get a decent version of <i>The Celestial Toymaker </i>out of this.<br />
<br />
7) <b><i>Missy/Master</i></b><br />
Double the Fist with the Fist Team replaced by incarnations of the Master. Michelle Gomez as Mephisto, John Simm as Rodd, Derek Jacobi as Panda, Alex McQueen as Blue Womp, Geoffrey Beevers as Red Womp and Mark Gatiss as Tara. DON'T EVER WATCH THIS SHOW AGAIN!!!<br />
<br />
8) <b><i>Jago & Litefoot</i></b><br />
<br />
What else is there to say? BF have done ten seasons of this, plus multiple adventures with the Sixth and Fourth Doctors. Even animating them to the style of <i>South Park </i>would be awesome.<br />
<br />
9) <b><i>Counter-Measures</i></b><br />
Again, just animated versions of the BF plays. It'd be like <i>Archer, </i>only less funny and more likely to keep you wide awake at night in full-blown paranoia.<br />
<br />
<br />
10) <b><i>The Unintentional Adventures of Richard Mace</i></b><br />
A chain-smoking alcoholic cliched author avatar of Eric Saward makes droll commentary of stuff, sort of like <i>Shelly </i>but back in the 17th century. Starring Harry & Paul as Richard Mace on alternate Tuesdays.<br />
<br />
11) <b><i>Movellan Network</i></b><br />
Yeah, I pitched this already. Babylon 5 with Daleks, Davros, Movellans, Monks and Lucie Millers.<br />
<br />
12) <i><b>Life With Shona</b></i><br />
The most popular character in <i>Last Christmas </i>is a slightly-demented pop culture fan who spends her yuletide watching sci-fi classics and being wierd at perfume stores. It'd be like <i>New Girl </i>except she would be a tad more violent if anyone brought up <i>My Little Pony</i>.<br />
<br />
13) <b><i>Terra Nerva</i></b><br />
Just like Terra Nova, but more Seth Efriken space men and giant wasps.<br />
<br />
14) <i><b>Wilf</b></i><br />
The adventures of the man who is not only made of awesome but forged in the fires of Mount Coolio. Guest starring the entire cast of <i>The Mighty Boosh </i>as the Silver Cloak.<br />
<br />
15) <i><b>Gaztaks and the Cactus</b></i><br />
They're a bunch of cowardly homicidal kleptomaniacs and he's a cactus with delusions of grandeur. It's a whacky get-rich scheme each week as the cactus pretends to be an important foreign invester at the local building society and they are gorillagrams with loaded shotguns, but will a prickly handshake give the game away? Starring Richard Adyode as Brotodac and Matt Berry as Meglos.<br />
<br />
16) <b><i>Shut The Voc Up!</i></b><br />
It's like <i>Kaldor City</i>, only written by someone normal which focusses on robophobia rather than killing everything for subtextual reasons. <i>Humans</i>, really, but with Voc robots instead of synths. Guest starring Nick Frost as Kaston Iago and Angus Deyton as the robot voices.<br />
<br />
17) <b><i>Heathrow Terminal</i></b><br />
Tegan and the crew of Concorde struggle to keep the skies safe and the passengers happy as the Master tries to ruin the airport business with androids, hallucinations, the Bermuda Triangle and of course explosive silcon breast implants. When a TCE is involved, anyone can join the mile-high club...<br />
<br />
<br />
18) <b><i>I Thought You Were The... Kandyman!</i></b><br />
Yes, inspired by <i>The Happiness Patrol, The Trials of Tara </i>and <a href="http://www.netfics.net/thewarofjenkinsear-1/" target="_blank"><i>The War of Jenkin's Ear</i></a>, join the confectionary-based psychotic assassin as he suffers truly terrible luck as he single-handedly gets into all sorts of sticky situations. If there's a Vervoid farm to moisten, a Nimon funeral to interrupt, or a carrot-cake time machine to eat, he's your man! Watch out for all sorts of misunderstandings, mistakes and murders and for god's sake don't mention Bertie Bassett!<br />
<br />
19) <b>That Guy Who Wasn't Quatermass from <i>Hide</i></b><br />
Yeah, him. And the lady from <i>Call the Midwife</i>. And their time-travelling black great-granddaughter. Got to be a decent soap opera in that, with a running gag that unless him and the lady get their leg over, the whole universe will collapse. But with the approach of Thatcher's Britain, maybe it's for the best?<br />
<br />
20) <b><i>Griffin The Chef</i></b><br />
<br />
He's chronically-depressed, works for a dictator, and people keep poisoning his food to kill off political rivals. On top of that, Griffin has to train a bunch of rejects from Masterchef. It's like Gordon Ramsey only much more passive aggressive. The winner each week gets to a foodtaster, so there's a rapid turnover. Starring Marco Peirre White as Fat Bastard Salamander Wants Dead.<br />
<br />
21) <b><i>Jenny Who?</i></b><br />
Unused <i>Farscape</i> scripts are adapted for Jenny, played by some blond in a tight T-shirt. Can she save the universe, avenge the underdog, and keep a relationship for more than three episodes? And is it worth keeping to pacifist principles when epic <i>Kill Bill </i>fight scenes are on offer? Guest starring Julian Clarey as the voice of Jenny's flight computer.<br />
<br />
22) <b><i>Morton Dill</i></b><br />
The Alabama hick is not quite built for the big city, especially as he keeps mistaking alien invasions, temporal inversion isometry and cloned dinsoaurs as Hollywood craziness. In fact, he can barely function when the rest of the world is on the same frequency. In the spirit of Mr. Bean and Monsieur Aubergine, this silent-scene comedy will appeal to people all across the world. Except, you know, Alabama who will very probably be offended at their finest being portrayed as a non-functional retard.<br />
<br />
23) <b><i>Cyber-Brig</i></b><br />
What did he do next? Is he destined to become Handles? Or Kroton? All we know is he's kicking ass and not necessarily taking names. Plus, he can also freaking <i>fly</i>.<br />
<br />
24) <b><i>Aldo & Royce in E-Space</i></b><br />
Those two guys survive the destruction of the Privateer and end up as a dogsbodies in the Tharil resistance - but you can be sure they'll find some way to scive off, have a cuppa and accidentally torture and electrocute innocent people. Guest-starring Andrew Lloyd Webber and the cast of <i>Cats</i>.<br />
<br />
25) <i><b>Karn Get Away With Nothing</b></i><br />
A breakfast television lifestyle show featuring the Sisterhood of Karn, including lots of cocktail recipes, feminist empowerment and how to chant "deathdeathdeathDEATH!" and sound like you mean it. Every week a celebrity drinks the elixir which turns them into a different celebrity.<br />
<br />
26) <b><i>Memoirs of an Edwardian Adventuress</i></b><br />
Because India Fisher is awesome, that's why. Given the love for period drama, positive female role-models, bodice-rippers, CGI aliens and the like, it's frankly amazing that this hasn't already been commissioned. She's a runaway cross-dressing adrenaline junkie with a weakness for Byronesque aliens and from the dying days of the Raj to the cutthroat pirates of Singapore Bay, the one thing she ain't is boring. Guest Starring Conrad Westmaas as the guy with no dialogue killed off in the pre-credits sequence.<br />
<br />
27) <b><i>Adipose</i></b><br />
Like the Tellytubbies only less scary.<br />
<br />
28) <b><i>I'm Sorry, Avan Tarklu...</i></b><br />
Yes, Frobisher gets his own spin-off. In these days of pixar CGI, a wisecracking penguin is probably easier to do than thinking of an alternative. The hapless shape-shifting PI, splitting his time between running a spaceport pub and helping the Doctor save the universe, all while keeping his bad-tempered wife on his mesomorphic good side, is begging to be made. Guest starring Colin Baker as the Doc, Nicola Bryant as the one with the big tits and Nicholas Briggs as the Skeletroid Hive Mind.<br />
<br />
29) <b><i>Shit Mr Copper Says</i></b><br />
A sitcom about the old bloke from Sto, giving his actor a chance to vent his notoriously mysanthropic rants about damn well everyone who dares get in his way.<br />
<br />
30) <b><i>You've Been A Bad Girl, Chloe Webber</i></b><br />
The main cast from <i>Fear Her </i>in a feel-good adaption of <i>Lizzie McGuire. </i>This time the animated sprite is actually a cause for terror and psychological instability as Chloe negotiates the problems of high school and the way she keeps making other children disappear. Shane Ward provides the musical interludes.<br />
<br />
31) <b><i>The Karkus</i></b><br />
With his antimolecular ray disintegrator, exotic accent and the fact he's a big girl's blouse when it comes to physical combat, this is the <i>Tick </i>without the sociopolitical subtext. Set in the distant past of the year 2000, the Karkus defends New England from the Taliban. He got New England and New York mixed up, you see.<br />
<br />
32) <b><i>The Siege of Trenzalore</i></b><br />
A series of five-minute cartoons with the Eleventh Doctor protecting the town of Christmas from every possible villain. Like <i>Potatoes and Dragons</i>, with the Doctor as the dragon.<br />
<br />
33) <b><i>Smith & Jones & Sontar-Ha!</i></b><br />
Yes, the two alien hunters and their disgraced Sontaran soldier fight crimes. Yes, it's just a modern take on The Paternoster Row Gang but that didn't stop Benedict Cumberbatch from being Sherlock, did it?<br />
<br />
34) <b><i>I Used To Be Somebody</i></b><br />
The moving tale of life on the streets of somewhere beginning with an S as a brainless, homeless junkie bum constantly gets mistaken for Henry Van Statten. But can someone who hasn't mastered toilet paper really be the richest man in the world? And why is Geocomtex determined to keep him in the homeless shelter? Why do they keep feeding him dogfood? WHY DON'T THE GRANDCHILDREN VISIT ANY MORE?!?<br />
<br />
35) <b><i>Enlightened Attitudes </i></b>(AKA <b><i>Guiliano Loves Marco</i></b>)<br />
A gay relationship at the end of the dark ages! Two hot young Italians must fight prejudice, fire-ball-weilding sorcerers and their own commitment issues! Guest starring Johnny Vegas as Leonardo da Vinci.<br />
<br />
36) <b><i><u>RTD:</u> What Went Wrong?</i></b><br />
The sequel to an <i>Adventure in Time and Space </i>starring Andy Serkis as RTD, Jenna Russell as Julie Gardner, Martin Clunes as Christopher Eccleston, Steve Mangan as David Tennant, Charlotte Church as Billie Piper, John Barrowman as himself, Robson Green as Bernard Cribbins, Daniel Hill as Steven Moffat and Katherine Parkinson as Catherine Tate. Guest starring Ben Wilshaw as Matt Smith and a cameo from Tom Baker as the Doctor in the final scene.<br />
<br />
37) <b><i>Sparrow & Nightingale</i></b><br />
<i>Black Books </i>with monsters! It's hard to make a living with a VHS and DVD store when going out of fashion, especially when you've got pissed-off Weeping Angels out for your blood. But can Larry and Sally get blood out of a stone? Will the Angels agree to the old 'zap stuff to make it antique' gift and can even the Lonely Assasins escape the council when planning permission is required for all those damn statues outside?<br />
<br />
<br />
38) <i><b>Courtney in the Act</b></i><br />
How the hell does the wife of a temporal physicist born and raised in Britain become President of the United States? How does a marriage cope when one partner knows the future and the other one's timeline is jammed backwards? And will the American public buy the story that the moon is an egg containing a pregnant space dragon? Peter Harness, as you reap so shall you sew!<br />
<br />
39) <i><b>Nest Cottage</b></i><br />
With the clone of the Second Doctor, a waspy bitch with no redeeming features, a braindead Mike Yates and a giant wolf, this rural sitcom of sickeningly 1970s British nostalgia will appeal to anyone who could actually listen to an entire Paul Margrs boxset without vomiting blood. Guaranteed the only way this show will not drive you to self-harm is because you're already brain-dead.<br />
<br />
40) <b><i>Rattigan Academy</i></b><br />
Working at a school for the gifted and talented brings out the best and work in Britain's youth, but these up-and-coming geniuses will easily win over soap audiences with their backstabbing, romancing and genome decoding along with ongoing story arc of exchange student Slarg the Constipated dealing with the Skins generation and their curious obsessions.<br />
<br />
41) <b><i>Bud Emmerson Investigates</i></b><br />
What do you mean, 'who'? Haven't you read <i>The Pescatons</i>? '<span style="color: #45818e;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>The Doctor's old friend, the astronomer Professor Bud Emmerson, hadn't changed a bit since they last met during one of the Doctor's previous regenerations. True, he was a little older, now in his mid-sixties, but he was just as fat as he always had been, which seemed to put his tall, massive body out of proportion with his head, which was really quite small. And his hair was now almost white, which was easily detectable despite the fact that he had cropped it short. A few years previously, Bud had been a well-known comedy actor in British films and television, but he had finally decided to abandon his career in favour of his first love, astronomy. And with the help of the Royal Astronomical Society, he had built the now legendary North London observatory, which settled quite naturally on the peak of Highgate Hill, with the whole of London's skyline spread out before it.</i></span></span></span>' There. Get Steve Coogan to play with with Rob Bryden as his dimwitted assistant Fargle.<br />
<br />
42) <b><i>Little Cloud</i></b><br />
Just how does a gay archaeology student and notch of Ace's bedpost cope when on work experience in another dimension? Shou Yung is thrown into King Arthur's dimenion, where hopefully it'll be slightly less tasteless and boring as <i>Merlin</i>.<br />
<br />
43) <b><i>Craig, Sophie, Alfy and Uncle Doctor</i></b><br />
Can struggling parents Craig and Sophie convince their psychotic toddler the babysitter is actually a regenerated Time Lord? Especially when real aliens invade? Guest starring Keith Allan as the babysitter.<br />
<br />
44) <b><i>Ray o' Sunshine</i></b><br />
The Welsh tomboy enjoys 1950s rock and roll on a biking tour of the dales and generally doing lots of stuff you'd see in <i>Born and Bred, Monarch of the Glen, Ballykissangel </i>and <i>Doc Martin</i>. Is often mistaken for a Queensland biker from 2013, and finds herself stalked by the guy who wrote <i>Electric Gypsy</i>. Will she draw the attention of 1950s Torchwood? Actually, no, she won't. Starring Tom Baker as Goronwy.<br />
<br />
45) <b><i>Drax</i></b><br />
He's a dodgy Cockney time traveler with a second-hand TARDIS dealership, a criminal record and the crown jewels. As the Time War kicks off, Drax has no end of potential customers but you try telling the Dalek Supreme the parts won't be in until last Monday! Desperate for assistance to deal with the workload, Drax summons up his past incarnation and sparks are sure to fly in this timeywimey <i>Open All Hours </i>ripoff!<br />
<br />
46) <b><i>Dr. Knox the Zombie Time-Travelling ManSlut With BO Problems</i></b><br />
Because Robert Ross's trilogy of godawful crap needs further expansion and explanation. And I think fandom has finally managed to put the trauma behind them. But it never goes away. Guess starring the guy who played Thomas Brewster and Thomas Brewster as his brains are eaten.<br />
<br />
47) <b><i>Devesham: Space Defense</i></b><br />
Well, presumably other things happen there. Maybe. Of some kind. At least there must be some reason why every astronaut is issued with an eyepatch and told to drink their own urine.<br />
<br />
48) <i><b>Life on the Frontier</b></i><br />
A docudrama look at post-tractator Frontios with colonists bitching and refering to themselves in the third person as "the people of Frontios" as they realize that the white hatstand is the only wood on the entire planet. It also delves into the Monoid segregation and apartheit problems. Guest starring Ross Kemp.<br />
<br />
49) <b><i>Oroog's Place</i></b><br />
A gentle children's show about the most charismatic and engaging character in the Divergent Universe. All profits go to protecting women from Phil Martin's transmogrification fetish.<br />
<br />
50) <b><i>Arthur the Horse</i></b><br />
A kind of <i>Black Beauty </i>story, except in every episode Arthur jumps through a mirror to save the day and or escape being turned into glue when inquiries are made into his reckless steroid abuse.<br />
<br />
51) <b><i>Remember Atlantis</i></b><br />
The wacky hijinks of Sean, Jacko, Ara and Lolem as they attempt to rebuild Atlantis in the middle of the swinging seventies. Can the fallen utopia get into the common market? Each episode features a musical interlude by Zaroff's fishpeople doing the songs of Lady Gaga, in particular "Born This Way" and "Pokerface". Guest starring Adam West as Professor Zaroff's Octopous.<br />
<br />
52) <b><i>The Awesome Adventures of Orson Pink</i></b><br />
The first of the chronal argonauts with his purpose-built time afro, Orson Pink finds himself flung into random periods in time and space and caught in lots of crazy hijinks. His only hope is to keep jumping through time, each time hoping this is the leap home. Guest starring Tim Minchin as Samuel Beckett.<br />
<br />
53) <b><i>Vortis Tales</i></b><br />
No one can ever say that <i>The Web Planet </i>was short on potential - now imagine the team behind <i>miniscule </i>with Zarbi, venom grubs, Menoptera, Animus, Zarbi Supremo, Atlanteans, Skorvax and a naked Dudley Moore (not quite sure about that last one) can get up to in a series of hilarious five minute <br />
<br />
54) <b><i>Rily Vashtee & T'Other Guy On The Pentallion</i></b><br />
They're on the wrong side of the law but on the right side of the sun at a time when the human empire is collapsing and the Ood are uprising. It's the perfect saga of enlightenment, self-discovery, transformation and lots of arguments as to whether that guy was in <i>Robin Hood </i>or not.<br />
<br />
55) <b><i>The Strattan and Bates Motel</i></b><br />
What's funnier than two psychotic Cyber-rejects on the run? When they have to run a hotel of course! Can Strattan keep the riff-raff out as well as handle the reservations? Will Bates just stop shouting? Can emotionless killing machines provide an enjoyable and relaxing experience for customers or will they just knock their heads off with lengths of metal piping? Guest starring Adrian Edmonson as both characters.<br />
<br />
56) <b><i>Bo' Tesselecta</i></b><br />
Shapeshifting android full of tiny people torturing celebrities. Like historical jackass, watch them do incredibly violent and stupid things to Rasputin, Lady McBeth, Genghis Kahn and Michael Grade. Guest starring Jeremy Clarkson in any role whatsoever for fuck's sake he needs the money.<br />
<br />
57) <b><i>Count Grendel - Magnificent Bastard of Tara</i></b><br />
Imagine <i>Blackadder </i>only with more androids and swordfights with electric swords. Will Grendel go for the throne or just rule the land through the idiotic android king? Will his dogsbody Till ever find the perfect thingy-shaped turnip? All we can be sure of is that Farrah twitches if you call him 'sweethart', Zadek makes noises like a sheep and the Archimandrite's hat is always good for a laugh!<br />
<br />
58) <b><i>Space Games </i></b>with The Celestial Toymaker<br />
Is it racist? Is it frightening? No, it's a gameshow with lots of live current. So better than <i>Eggheads </i>any day. <br />
<br />
59) <b><i>Flying </i><i>Killer Bikini Vampire Catfish Girls Suck Venice</i></b><br />
...sorry, you need more?<br />
<br />
60) <b><i>Get Duggan</i></b><br />
Divorce cases, multiple Mona Lisas, punching people - Duggan is the one you need. Basically <i>Hazell </i>except with more motherfucking Tom Chabdon beating the shit out of people. Guest starring Chris Lilly as the stuntman Duggan punches every episode.<br />
<br />
61) <b><i>Two Freaks And A Nutter And A Neanderthal And A Stone Spaceship</i></b><br />
The gang from <i>Ghost Light </i>continue in an internet-only youtube series that requires copious research with Marc Platt to get the vaguest fucking clue of what is happening. Starring Mitchel and Webb as the Husks.<br />
<br />
62) <b><i>The Late Show Starring Roco Colasanto</i></b><br />
He's a happy Italian man, he looks like El Duche, he can sing Queen songs, and he's dealt with the cast of <i>Ashes to Ashes </i>repeatedly getting nude in front of him. Beat that, Mister Fallon!<br />
<br />
63) <b><i>Droxil, Billis and The Other One</i></b><br />
Because acid-bombing sentient Christmas trees on Androzani Minor just spells ongoing franchise to me.<br />
<br />
64) <b><i>The Showgirl and the Pig Slave</i></b><br />
A touching look at post-war depression in New York. With a pigman and Tallulah making ends meet on stage, in freakshows and for kinky customers. THE POTENTIAL MARKET IS ENORMOUS!<br />
<br />
65) <b><i>Alan Bennett's Kamelion</i></b><br />
Kamelion may not be able to get out of a chair, but he can lipsynch with incredibly touching monologues written by the greatest playwrights of modern England. Due to contractual reasons, every single monologue will be about a lute player of some description.<br />
<br />
66) <b><i>Nefertitti & Ridell</i></b><br />
He's a big game hunter. She's an Egyptian queen. They both have laser guns. Needless slaughter of wild animals have never been so fun. It's Indiana Jones only with better dialogue, more sex and less Nazi atom-bomb-proof fridges. Guess starring the cast of <i>Wild At Heart </i>as moving targets.<br />
<br />
67) <b><i>Cranleigh Manor</i></b><br />
Those <i>Downton Abbey </i>fans can go suck it! DWM is still struggling to work out the plot after thirty-three years so this dynasty of back-stabbing, servant-murdering, face-deforming, house-burning, body-hiding, fancy-dress-wearing, cricket-losing should keep things going for a full DVD box set. Thrill as the insane, deformed madman writes a best seller! Gasp as Madge uses Latoni's wooden lip for sexual pleasure! Boggle as Anne Talbot's bra-strap gets bizarre closeups to tell us she's actually got a melanoma!<br />
<br />
68) <i><b>Keep It Under Your Hat with Adam Mitchell</b></i><br />
He's a genius. He's an environmental activist. And he wears a shit load of hats. In this chat show, not at all ripped off from <i>The Last Leg</i>, Adam discusses the week's news and events while never taking off that bloody beanie. Will his costars ever find out the truth? Will the audience ever stop snapping their fingers? Does anyone really care?<br />
<br />
69) <b><i>W3</i></b><br />
Yes, it's the Wheel in Space spin-off as hunky Leo Ryan and braless Tanya Lernov sizzle with barely repressed sexual tension. Is librarian Zoe comfortable with her sexuality? Will botanist Duggan find love in a venus flytrap? And what the fuck is wrong with Chang? Brought to you by the makers of <i>Sex in the City</i>, you'll be rooting for the emotionless Cybermen to rip out their spines and microwave their flesh.<br />
<br />
70) <b><i>Tranquil Repose</i></b><br />
Like <i>Six Feet Under </i>only with more mercenaries, black comedy and dead-end plots.<br />
<br />
71) <b><i>In the Drahvin Seat</i></b><br />
Cloned blonde supermodels with laser guns fighting space walruses and proto-Daleks? With the right hands on the wheel, this would beat the shit out of <i>Battlestar Galactica</i>. If John bloody Wiles hadn't screwed everything up, <i>Galaxy 4 </i>would have been an epic story (one need only look at all the planned merchandise) and the public reaction at the time was huge! Chumbliemania! It actually happened!<br />
<br />
72) <b><i>How Much For Just The Planet? </i></b>with Mel & Glitz<br />
As prior pitched in DWM # 301, Mel and Glitz run a floating cold freeze super market on the knife's edge of legality. <i>Only Fools And Horses </i>in zero grav!<br />
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<br />
<br />
73) <b><i>Perfect Timing</i></b><br />
Having been robbed of stardom back in 63 by Terry Nation's finest, the paranoid humanoid android the Perfect One of Luxor has plenty to complain about in his stand-up variety act <i>Live From Primiddion Satellite # 674 </i>with tails of dealing with stupid Derivatrons and heart warming sex experiments on random Earth girls with his funky dad Tabon. Whoops! Little bit of politics! I'm <i>not </i>Ben Elton! Goodnight!<br />
<br />
74) <b><i>Anita - Avenging Angel of Spain!</i></b><br />
Her rotund English boyfriend was murdered at his restaurant and Anita was blamed when the corpse of the killer was found with his head in a butterfly net and a mouth full of cyanide. Now, Anita's out of jail and determined to take down every scumbag in Seville whether they pay in Narg notes or not! Together with the alien technology in Dona Arana's basement, Anita is on a rampage of justice - and she has a restaurant ready to help her get rid of the leftovers! It's <i>Dexter</i>, but with more Spaniards!<br />
<br />
75) <b><i>Planet of the Myrkas</i></b><br />
A wildlife documentary hosted by Sir Robert Winston with a UV laser and a canister of hexachromite.<br />
<br />
76) <b><i>Judoon: Life On The Spacelanes</i></b><br />
Trevor Baxendale expands his idea of "Gene Hunt as a rhino" to a full-blown space opera. Fire up the hyperdrive, muchachos!<br />
<br />
77) <b><i>Psi & Whatsherface</i></b><br />
A cyber-hacking ex-con and a chick who used to be able to shapeshift... open a zero-gravity hairdresser!! Yeah, I have no idea where I'm actually going with this.<br />
<br />
78) <b><i>The Garron and Unstoffe Gang</i></b><br />
Based on the GB fic <a href="http://www.netfics.net/volume-one-the-rallax-operation/" target="_blank"><i>The Rallax Corporation</i></a>, the Rob Holmes pair are joined the princess mongoose, a nude Draconian and a robot called Bob as they hustle the cosmos. Interplanetary real estate, shrivenzale taming, tesseract smuggling, you need a law broken, these are your lads.<br />
<br />
79) <b><i>The New DWM Time Team Are Buried Alive In Quicklime</i></b><br />
It'd probably only get four episodes out before you ran out of members, but it would be worth it. These tryhard unimaginative personality-free fuckwits who pretend they know nothing just so they can squawk narration like "Oooh! He's got a fob-watch! Could he be the Master in disguise?" or "Oh no! David Tennant might be going to pout!" or "Hahaha! A reference to The Moonbase!" OH GOD I HATE THEM THE STUPID BASTARDS BURY THEM ALIVE! THEY CAN COMMENT ON THAT AS THE <b><i>QUICKLINE <span style="color: red;">SHREDS THEIR <span style="font-size: x-large;">FLE-E-EA-S-SH-SHHH!</span></span></i></b><br />
<br />
80) <b><i>Solos Summer Break</i></b><br />
So, your whole people have turned first into giant cockroaches and now giant glowy Vorlon things who have a tendency to nuke any fat humans they take a dislike to. Oh, and their stripmined planet was blasted to rubble by a crumbling empire far from sorry for what they did. Pru, things are kicking off!<br />
<br />
81) <b><i>The Arthur Darvill Comedy Hour</i></b><br />
Guaranteed to be funnier than anything Ricky Gervais has ever done. Or ever will.<br />
<br />
82) <b><i>Head To Head With Dorium Maldovaar</i></b><br />
An ultra-sophisticated chatshow with the severed head of a fat bald blue guy chatting with a variety of guests and celebrities. If Graham Norton can manage it, Dorium will easily get ahead. HAH! There's a lot of cranial humor and head-based mirth in this, I can tell you. Guest starring Handles as leader of the house band.<br />
<br />
83) <b><i>Charlie The Badger Interveiws...</i></b><br />
Yes, Matt Smith's smooth-talking glove puppet could easily beat Conan in the interview stakes plus it makes Matt happy, is cheap and fun and interesting. Could you bring yourself to lie to a glove puppet? Are you <i>that</i> pathetic? Grow a spine, man, and admit your meth addiction! (Charlie the Badger is funded by the police narcotics division and most of the audience are plain clothed officers.)<br />
<br />
<br />
84) <i><b>UNIT Recruits</b></i><br />
Remember those two kids the Doctor volunteered for UNIT? Watch them and dozen others go through the gruelling soul-destroying military training only to be used as red shirt canon fodder at the first sign of trouble. Still, keeps them out of mosques, that's the main thing.<br />
<br />
85) <b><i>Don't Trust Madame Kovarian In No. 23</i></b><br />
She's a bitchy old hag and camper than than a marathon of <i>Some Mothers Do Have Em</i>, a collossal pervert and sadist but now she's on the run from the Silence, River Song, the Doctor and also her ex-wife Tasha. Will Kovarian ever achieve enough good karma to make offends for being such a fuckwit? Who cares as long as she suffers immensely? Guest starring John Guilgud as the Silent.<br />
<br />
86) <b><i>Beep and Friends</i></b><br />
Nuff said.<br />
<br />
87) <b><i>The Return of Captain Dent</i></b><br />
Because IMC goes on forever and a guy with a toupee like that doesn't give a shit whether some hippies want a radioactive mud quarry or not. Can Dent redeem himself after Uxarius went tits up? Should he really have based all his schemes of <i>Scooby Doo </i>episodes? Is his love of Emmerson Lake and Palmer actually hampering his career? Starring Katy Perry as Dent's missus.<br />
<br />
88) <b><i>Intergalatic Space Bastards Inc.</i></b><br />
John Barrowman & James Marsters play rogue Time Agents out for sex, violence, booze and speed in the Vegas galaxies. Imagine <i>Supernatural </i>only without the ghosts and more top-line shagging. Or <i>Archer </i>with vortex manipulators. A reminder of the time before Captain Jack was a self-pitying child-murdering emo homo immortal sue. <i>Fray </i>references keep the Buffyverse fans happy.<br />
<br />
89) <b><i>Marco? Polo!</i></b><br />
Yes, why the hell not? The journeys to Cathay provide plenty of stuff to pad out the series, and I'm seeing it as a cross between <i>Monkey Magic</i> and <i>Game of Thrones</i>. Given the increasing historical evidence Marco Polo was borderline fictional, we have the hook that Mark Eden's character in Serial D was actually a time agent in disguise trying to make ends meet. Guest starring James Dreyfus as Kublai Kahn.<br />
<br />
90) <b><i>Oak & Quill</i></b><br />
Jay and Silent Bob if they were both camp, middle-aged, Northern and breathed toxic gas. No job too small, no body count too high. From what I've dreamt, this will scare any audience shitless.<br />
<br />
91) <b><i>Never Mind The Morlocks!</i></b><br />
<i>The Space Museum </i>might not be the obvious place to look for spinoffery but Glyn Owen's comedy treatment (clear in his novelization) show this would be a brilliant <i>Red Dwarf </i>style set up with Lobos, Ogrek and Matt the robot running a crappy museum on a dead planet after civilization has fallen. It would be <i>Nightingales </i>only with really, really stupid haircuts. These guys defeated the Daleks, remember.<br />
<br />
92) <b><i>Kroll Country</i></b><br />
Basically like <i>Tremors</i>, with the people of the third moon of Delta Magna turning the ferocious giant squids in the swamps into tourist attractions but also running the risk of constantly being dragged underground by probing tentacles. The theme music - KROLL boom-boom-boom KROLL - will prove the ultimate earworm and special SFX have been arranged to get that unique split-screen horizon look.<br />
<br />
93) <b><i>House of Jabolite</i></b><br />
The sexy conspiracy-riddled saga of Sir Reginald Styles and his hardcore bisexual orgy with Mrs. Paggit and the Indonesian Minister of Trade takes us deep into the corridors of power. And these corridors have mighty fine carpets. With Styles' constant Shakespearian asides to camera, the threat of world war three in the air and the fact assassins from parallel universes are trying to kill him, there's enough here for HBO to stretch on for the next 25 years on blue ray.<br />
<br />
94) <b><i>Clive Finch the Zombie Fanboy</i></b><br />
Inspired entirely by Mark Benton's off-the-cuff idea during the recording of <i>Rose</i>, this reveals the Doctor's psycho-fan survived the Autons and became a zombie. Will his family cope? Will the dry cleaning bill be payable? Does Clive need human flesh to survive or is it just a perk? Who will win at <i>TimeSplitters 2</i>?<br />
<br />
95) <i><b>Bill Filer - Hard Man</b></i><br />
He may sound like paperwork, but this combover commando is the CIA's answer to Errol Flyn. Able to karate chop spaghetti monsters, talk in his sleep and fail to shoot anyone, Bill Filer is searching for his estranged lover, Clanton Delaware Everett III no matter what alien bastards get in the way.<br />
<br />
96) <b><i>Pilot Fish Robot Santas WTF?!</i></b><br />
These strange aliens probably could hold down a series if we know what the hell they were.<br />
<br />
97) <b><i>I Was A Unicorn!!</i></b><br />
The tale of the lady jewel-thief with the unreliable accent. Eventually Phryne Fisher beats her up.<br />
<br />
98) <b><i>Lurman Curve </i></b>with Vorg & Shirna<br />
The bodies of adults, the minds of children and the scruples of the Thatcher government, these immigant carny folk are a threat to the civilization of Inter Minor and we're rooting for them all the way. <i>Imagine The Dangerous Brothers </i>meets <i>Yes, Minister </i>and add more Drashigs!<br />
<br />
99) <b><i>The P7E Chronicles</i></b><br />
Well, there are plenty of Greek myths out there to be sci-fied and with a huge cast of regenerated space argounauts it's practically <i>Stargate Universe </i>without the pretention. It's the sort of thing Lawrence Miles would be into if he could get of his cropuscular backside and do something, as well.<br />
<br />
<br />
100) <b><i>The Space Pirates (No Not Those Ones)</i></b><br />
Captain Avery and his pals in a spaceship. If that can't inspire you, what can, sah? What can?<br />
<br />
101) <b><i>The Nikolai Hermack Mysteries</i></b><br />
Imagine <i>George Gently </i>if the titular hero was a complete moron with no criminal detective skills who acted like a polecat on heat and his 2IC often got abandoned in escape pod while they chased conspiracy theories very very VEERRRYYYY slowly. Guest-starring Russell Brand as Milo Clancy Jr.Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-2029926162762910612015-09-30T00:07:00.001+10:002015-09-30T00:07:46.402+10:00YOA and the Format Restructure (iii)<i>[The sun sets over the house.]</i> <br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon:<i> (vo)</i> </b>History has known many battles. Gallipoli. Vietnam. Endor. But few have known the sheer brutal chaos of the Great Squabble over the best Bedroom.<br />
<br />
<i>[Upstairs, Vasiliki and Chamber are arguing over a bedroom. Downstairs, Nigel protectively blocks the doorway to his own bedroom from Cuddles. In the Chill-Out Area, Dr. Spoon is writing on a laptop while Nemonie is fast asleep beside him.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Some's greatest concerns are survival, or social revolution, or spiritual enlightment. Still others' minds are filled with "does this room have a nice big window?" or "is it close to the kitchen in case I get peckish?" or "if she gets munchies in the middle of the night she should be closest to the fridge at uncivilized o'clock". Yet what about Andrew's silo where he stores useless tat and fell asleep anywhere that took his fancy. Lo, no one dares to enter that black hole of junk to turn it into an en suite...<br />
<br />
<i>[Nemonie mumbles without opening her eyes.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nemonie: </b>Will you just shut up? I'm trying to sleep off a gut-load of ecstacy here.<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Sorr-ree...<br /> <br />
<i>[Dave's room. Most of Dave's stuff is still there. Cuddles is dumping his belongings in the corner.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>What do you mean, "junk it"? You can't do that!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Well, even if I liked his excuse of a wardrobe, they're far too small for me.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles starts emptying drawers and shoving his stuff inside.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>We should send it to him, and his family...<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Fine, whatever. Just clear the room so I can get it fumigated...<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice sighs and rummages through a chest as Nigel enters.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What the hell...? Did I say you could throw this stuff out? I'm actually trying to get people back that I want to be here - specifically, those willing to pay rent!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Your point being?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Dave's stuff being here is the perfect blackmail to getting him back!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Yeah, given Dave's actually alive...<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh shut up! God, Cuddles, if I killed you and put your pectorals on life support, no one would notice!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Whereas I could kill you and no one would care.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Ooh, he's got you there, Nige.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>And what are you still doing here anyway? I have enough freeloading parasites as it is!<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>I'm collecting Dave's stuff. It'll give you the perfect excuse to meet up with him and apologize.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh, Maurice, how I wish you were more like this!<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Like what?<br />
<br /><b>Nigel: </b>Capable of thought. Right.<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel unfurls a bin bag and starts shovelling Dave's stuff inside. He takes a snowglobe, some Animorphs books and fir cones off a desk and throws them inside.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Fir cones! What does he want those for?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Guess he uses them to tell if it was going to rain.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Instead of using the ancient and mystical art of looking out the freaking window, I suppose. <br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice clears a shelf of a clock, a stuffed Stimpy toy and a bottle.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What's in that?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: <i>[reads label] </i></b>Patented Herbal Elixir - Guaranted To Cure All Forms of Depression of the Spirit.<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice cracks the top open and sniffs.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Smells like really old coconut milk.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>That's Dave Restal for you, a sucker just waiting to be screwed over.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>At least he never took in lodgers because he couldn't find a poster at a newsagent.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Cuddles, please, your attempts to become a higher anthropoid embarras only yourself.<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice drops the bottle into the binliner.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b><i>[wistful] </i>Dave might have been desperate enough to try it.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Dave was desperate full stup. Anything else?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Just this.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles indicates a slab of modelling clay, unfinished in a crude sculpt of a woman's head. It is dried up and hard as rock. Cuddles rapps his knuckles on it.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Ugly as and, to be honest, starting to stink. I'd throw it in the bin but I don't want to touch it.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Wait, keep it.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>It's a piece of junk! No art connoisseur would be seen dead with it!<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Is that... Phe?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Yep. Desperate Dave still isn't over her. We'll keep it here as a back-up to lure him in.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>That's cold. That's cruel. That's sickening. But I'd be lying if I said it's not worth a try.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>OK, good, you've got everything go! Now, should I flea-bomb this place before the Aboriginal smoking ceremony or after? Maybe do it at the same time, cut to the chase... <br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[Nigel glares at him.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>There just aren't enough hours in the day for me to hate you. Do us a favor and suffocate!<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i></i><br />
<i>[Eve's room. Vasiliki is hanging up the skeleton on the toilet poster on the wall. Chamber idly looks into the en suite bathroom.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>What do you think?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>As a matter of fact, I think I could be happy here... once those windows are clean. What did the previous occupant get up to?<br />
<br />
<i>[Vasiliki indicates the window. There are arse-prints high up on the glass.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Wow. She must have been a contortionist.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Or she was having sex with someone who was. Seriously, those are very distracting.<br />
<br />
<i>[She picks up a spray can, squirts the window and wipes it clean. A second later, the prints reappear.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>How the hell did that happen?<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>I dunno. Does Mr. Sheen come with a free exorcism?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>I hope it's demonic activity. I don't want to know what causes stains like that.<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>You know, I could always have this room if you don't want it...<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Chamber I found it!<br />
<br />
<i>[Both Vasiliki and Chamber emerge to the balcony outside. Dr. Spoon is there with a large, creepy-looking ventriloquist dummy over his shoulder in the shape of a grinning clown.]</i> <br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Operation Room Gathering And Scenic Manamagent - or ORGASM for short - is ready to go! We'll get the best bedroom is ours away from that grecian girl in no time!<br />
<br />
<i>[Vasiliki looks between Dr. Spoon and Chamber and shakes her head.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Too late, Rupert. She's onto us.<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>How?<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Take a wild guess?<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>...the Easter Bunny?<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>OK, take a slightly less-wild guess.<br />
<br />
<i>[Vasiliki slams the door in their faces. They sigh and head along the balcony.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>You know, Chamber, if you just kept your stuff organized, I would have found this a lot quicker.<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>It <i>is </i>organized! Alphabetically!<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Yes, Chamber, but you're totally dyslexic, aren't you?<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Do you have to bring that up all the time?<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>You're the one who insists on playing scrabble...<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>You're just bitter because you lose all the time...<br />
<br />
<i>[Wynona pulls up outside Dave's house. Maurice turns off the engine and collects the binliner full of Dave's stuff. Nigel looks pensive.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I dunno. Maybe I should go in with you.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Might be best if I ease him into the concept.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Ease him into it? Maurice, we were the best of friends! Why, remember that time Andrew accidentally snorted anthrax and disappeared for six weeks...?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>No. Not particularly.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Well, my point is, it was just me and Dave. Our relationship was magical.<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback. Nigel’s room is lined with Christmas lights and decorations. Nigel sits in his bed, facing the TV. He wears a festive hat and some of the decorations. On the TV, the Queen’s speech begins. Nigel pours himself a tankard of sherry.]</i><br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>Merry Christmas! God save the Queen!<br /><br /><i>[He begins draining the tankard. There is a banging at the door.]</i><br /><br /><b>Nigel:<i> [shocked] </i></b>Oh, crapola.<br /><br /><b>Dave: <i>[vo] </i></b>Hey! Nigel! Hello! Are you in there?<br /><br /><i>[Nigel leaps off the bed, ejecting a video from his VCR. It has QUEEN’S SPEECH 2001 written on the label and begins to haul down the decorations. The door bursts open and Dave enters.]</i><br /><br /><b>Dave: </b>There you are! <i>[looks around] </i>What the...<br /><br /><i>[Nigel looks up at him while trying to haul down his Christmas tree.]</i><br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>This isn’t what it looks like!<br /><br /><b>Dave: </b>You’ve been celebrating Christmas again, haven’t you?<br /><br /><i>[Nigel sweeps a pile of half-opened Christmas presents off the top of his mantle piece. Muchos smashing noises. Nigel tries to look casual as he rips off his festive outfit.]</i><br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>So? What’s wrong with that, man?<br /><br /><b>Dave: </b>It’s July! The fourth of July!<br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>OK, so I got my public holidays mixed up, so sue me!<br /><br /><b>Dave: </b>What are you talking about? You hate America!<br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>Uh, I try to celebrate other cultures.<br /><br /><b>Dave: </b>Oh, really? So what does one DO on the fourth of July?<br /><br /><b>Nigel: <i>[winces] </i></b>Ah. Oh dear. I know this.<br /><br /><b>Dave: </b>Does it involve a Christmas tree? And lights?<br /><br /><b>Nigel: <i>[casual] </i></b>Doesn’t it?<br /><br /><i>[Dave crosses to the TV. Nigel leaps in front of it, trying to block his way but Dave shoves him aside and checks the video. His face falls.]</i><br /><br /><b>Dave:<i> [disappointed]</i></b> Oh, no, Nigel. Not the Queen’s speech. I thought you were getting better?<br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>I don’t have to justify myself to you!<br /><br /><b>Dave: </b>Look mate, we’re all we’ve got left now! And when you start hiding in here, pretending its Christmas every single day... You have got a problem, Nige! We covered all this in March? Remember the 24-Step Guide to Accepting That Christmas is Over? Remember that? Oh, we were so pleased when you finally chucked out the tree.<br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>I’m nineteen, Restal! I’m old enough to do what I want.<br /><br /><b>Dave: </b>That’s not what you said when the police came round. [SAD] Can’t you see you’re not right? This isn’t natural. You’re doing nothing but harm to yourself. You’ve got to see a professional!<br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>If you don’t like it, get out.<br /><br /><i>[Dave tries to grab the Christmas tree, unbalancing it. And incredibly-pathetic girl-fight begins between Nigel and Dave, ending with a nipple-cripple that floors Dave. He scrambles out, crying.]</i><br /><br /><b>Nigel: <i>[cruelly] </i></b>Yeah, get used to it, Dave! From now on the Big N is head of THIS household!<br /><br /><i>[Behind him, the loose tree falls on top of Nigel, crushing him and dragging the Christmas lights with it. That, in turn, knocks over everything in the room that was upright. A long pause.]</i><br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>Uh, a little help here? Hello?<br /><br /><i>[Nigel lies beneath the felled Christmas tree. On the other side, his leg sticks upright, aiming at the ceiling, like a flamingo. End flashback. Nigel sighs nostalgically.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Ah. I still don't have full feeling in my left leg.<br />
<br />
<i>[Beat.]</i> <br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Yeah whatever. Don't worry, if I know Dave he'll forgive you for this. I mean, making him live at home for a couple of days isn't that bad...<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You're right. Hell, he'll probably thank me for the chance to see his folks again.<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice leaves the car and heads to the house.]</i> <br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh. Hang on. There's another amnesia bit fading away...<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback. Nigel hands Dave a milkshake. He sips it.] </i><br />
<br />
<b>Dave:<i> </i></b>Hmmm. Tastes good. What’s in it?<br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>Oh, milk, butter, cream, icing sugar, vanilla custard, hundreds and thousands oh, and chloroform.<br />
<br />
<i>[Dave collapses unconscious. Nigel laughs evilly. Cut to Dave's house, where Nigel throws Dave into his father's arms.]</i><br />
<br />
<br /><b>Nigel: </b>Look, Mr. Restal, sorry about this. Uh, Dave’s decided to move back with you, but, um, you know how it is. He doesn’t want to swallow his pride, so he got absolutely pissed instead. Sorry about this, but I couldn’t leave him in the gutter. Again. He’s sold most of his possessions for his heroin habit. Look, it’ll take some time, but I’m sure, if you keep him indoors and never let him leave again, he’ll soon become the loveable son you remember.<i> [gulps]</i> Can I trust you with my best friend?<br /><br /><b>Dave's Dad: </b>Of course I can. Thank you.<br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>No, my pleasure.<br /><br /><i>[Nigel closes the front door, grinning evilly. End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Jeez. Maybe I need a CAT scan. I shouldn't be forgetting important things like that. <br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice gets back into the car.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Nigel, apparently you convinced Dave's parents he was a self-harming heroin addict and they've thrown him into rehab and refuse to tell anyone where he is in case that leads to a relapse.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Really? Well, actually, that does kind of make sense. You see, it was another of those mental blanks...<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice punches Nigel in the face, giving him a bloody nose.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice:<i> [snarling with fury] </i></b>You are without doubt the worst excuse for a human being I have ever met and frankly if there isn't a hell then there should be one created especially just for you! You are on the sub-child-molester level, you are! You not only betrayed the two friends you had on the planet, you went out of your way to wreck and destroy their lives as much as you possibly could out of sheer arrogant sadism! You spat on every chance you had to become a decent human being and I hope you live a very long life so you can suffer longer and more agonizingly than any other living creature! And if you ever so much as breathe in my presence again I will crack open your spinal column and pour in battery acid! If you die alone, unloved, unmourned and in utter torment then you've got off lightly.<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice punches him again and then climbs out of the car and storms off into the night. Nigel hisses with pain and wipes the blood from his face.]</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Wow. And this is him <i>taking</i> his meds!<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>[Dr. Spoon and Chamber are examining the wall beside Andrew's silo.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Do you see it, Chamber?<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Would it emotionally devastate you if I say no, Rupert?<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: <i>[sighs] </i></b>The wall!<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Yes. It's a wall. Is this some Pink Floyd thing?<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Chamber, the other side of the silo the wall is much further back than here. I mean, between you and me, I can't be arsed to do any measuring, but it is clear this is not a proper corner, it comes out instead of going in like... um...<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Some kind of closested heterosexual?<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Yeah, something like that. Man, I need some proper sleep.<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>I told you to cut down the caffiene.<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>I have, but there's still so much in my system! Damn my lazy albino metabolism!<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>So what do you reckon's behind this strange extra wall? A panic room? Ventilator shaft?<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Let's find out.<br />
<br />
<i>[They pick up sledgehammers.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>You know, if this is a load-bearing pillar we could completely screw this entire building.<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Yeah, but we still have our old apartment to go back to.<br />
<br />
<i>[They start slamming their hammers against the wall. The plaster cracks.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>True, but you're the one who can explain it all to Landlord Nigel.<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Pah! He'll be much more upset with what Vasiliki's doing...<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>[Vasiliki enters through the door with a small crowd of potential homebuyers.]</i><br /><br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>So. This is 23 Chief Mango Zulu Bootlace Cul-De-Sac and I'm sure you'll notice it looks exactly like it does in the brochures and by that I mean fricken amazing. Oh, remind me to give you the brochures at some point. It's got four bedrooms, an upper level, a basement. It's in perfect condition and if I wasn't paid to say that I'd snap this up, I'd snap this up anyway. This is the best house on the market, hands down. You could host parties, athletic competitions or even a safe houses for political dissidents of strategic value...<br />
<br />
<i>[The thumping and smashing from Dr. Spoon and Chamber is too loud to ignore. Cuddles emerges from Dave's room with a mud-pack on his face and his hair in a towel.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>For the love of Icehouse, what the hell is that din?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Do you mind, big guy? I'm trying to work here!<br />
<br />
<i>[She indicates the house buyers.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Don't worry about them. Some minor renovations underway...<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber:<i> [singing] </i></b><i>Hello? Is there anyone in there? Is there anyone home?</i><br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Technically, the more appropriate song would be <i>Another Brick In The Wall</i>.<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Shut up, I like this one better! <i>I, I have become comfortably numb...</i><br />
<br />
<i>[They have smashed away the plaster to reveal brickwork.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Housebuyer 1: </b>Why's it so cheap? <br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Well, it's been hard to shift... <br />
<br />
<b>Housebuyer 1: </b>I knew it! The place is haunted! Things move on their own!<br />
<br />
<b>Housebuyer 2: </b>We're going to be swallowed by the walls!<br />
<br />
<b>Housebuyer 3: </b>Have human remains been found here?<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Look, this place is <i>not </i>built on an Indian burial ground...<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Well, duh! We're in Australia!<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>This apartment area is <i>not </i>haunted. There are <i>no </i>ghosts and <i>no </i>secret burial sites<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Er, I think you might've spoken a touch too soon there, Silky.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[Cuddles points to where Dr. Spoon and Chamber have stopped demolishing the wall. There is now a jagged hole and brown, cobwebbed skeletons are visible beneath. The housebuyers stare at the bones then at Vasiliki. A long pause.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>You still haven't seen the size of the bedrooms? And one of them has an en suites.<br />
<br />
<i>[A very long pause.]</i> <br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Seriously - en suites!<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><i>- to be continued... if any more had been written</i></b>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-8740387398961082782015-09-29T00:13:00.000+10:002015-09-29T00:13:18.964+10:00YOA and the Format Restructure (ii)<i>[Street. Wynona drives through the suburbs. Maurice is at the wheel, Nigel holding a pack of frozen peas to his forehead, still hungover.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>I still think it would be easier to convince Dave.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Course it would! So we can do it later. We'll need to work harder on Andrew, so we might as well start now.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Ah, it shouldn't be too difficult. Once he finds out how your pathetic scheme backfired, he'll be in a great mood, won't he?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Hmph. I really preferred you when you didn't take your meds, Maurice.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Oh stop being a bitch.<br />
<br />
<i>[They turn a corner to the park where Andrew's shack should be. Instead there is a smoky hole in the ground where the shack was, which is taped off and with fences around. Maurice parks Wynona and they emerge to approach the sealed-off area.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh now what?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Andrew's place... it's burnt to the ground.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>He probably burnt it for insurance. The hairy lunatic lost his job and needed some cash. [winces] Oooh, I'm getting that amnesia again... <br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice hurries to a smoke-damaged house next to the hut as the front door opens and Cuddles, a body-builder type with a ponytail, lumbers out.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Excuse me... scuse me...<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Yeah?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Sorry, but what happened?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Typical media bias.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>You'd think the news would have reported a terrorist attack like that, wouldn't you?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What terrorist attack?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Day before yesterday. Hole place blew up, just as we were getting some credibility back into the neighborhood. Oh well...<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You know the guy who lived there?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Drew? Oh yeah, I knew him.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Your use of the past tense disturbs me as much as your oiled pectorals excites my companion.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>They don't excite me that much.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You have very strange fetished, Maurice.<i> [to Cuddles] </i>Did something happen?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Well...<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback. Andrew is crossing the park to the intact hut. He opens the door just as Cuddles spots him and runs out of his house.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Hey, you, what are you doing?<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>What’s it look like? It’s my hut.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Jeez, Drew! Property values have just started going up again, you spastic! You move in and they’ll head straight back down again, you evil little goblin!<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>Look, I was here before you. I have title on this land.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Only because none of the Aborigines wanted it.<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>Look, ‘Cuddles’, I’m just stopping by for some stuff.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles:<i> </i><i>[haughty] </i></b>If you move in, I won’t be responsible for my actions.<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>Fine! But remember: I know what you do kangaroos, so just shut up, you annoying virus. Or soon the local papers will work out just why you’re called ‘Cuddles’! OK?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Fine! I hope you die horribly.<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>Yeah, like that’s about to happen.<br />
<br />
<i>[Andrew turns to face his hut. A massive explosion utterly destroys Andrew’s hut, flinging Andrew across the park. He strikes a wall before crumpling to the ground. End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Holy shit. What happened then?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Lots of fire engines, police, the right-wing media...<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>To Andrew?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>No idea. No ambulances turned up. I suppose he must have just got up and gone. I was a bit busy trying to raise awareness of Kakadu National Park Uranium Mining with that cow from <i>60 Minutes</i>, so I guess he could have been pronounced dead. But there was nothing in the paper about it.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Well, Kakadu's probably going to be more of an election issue...<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>I meant Drew. Kinda feel a bit bad, but then it was <i>my </i>house that got damaged. Stupid insurance premiums... I should totally set up a website.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Yeah, you do that.<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel is staring at the blast site.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Nigel?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh dear. I just remembered.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Remembered what?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Well, er, the person who put the plastic explosives in the so-called Beeblebrox Bungalow may very well have been someone not a million miles away talking to you right now.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You blew up Andrew's hut!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>My geraniums are practical worn down to the stem you terrorist!<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>In reverse order, a) I don't give a shit and b) hey, I was drunk with evil power at the time.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You might have killed Andrew!<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>That wasn't my intention.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Do you think it makes this all right?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Doesn't it? Hell, I just wanted to blow up the shack to mess with him. I didn't think he'd be inside it at the time.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Actually, he was sort of outside the doorway.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>See? Besides, it's me who has to suffer if the yowie-faced freak's dead! Who's going to pay rent!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>What?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I could explain it to you, but that would involve me caring that you're well-informed.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles calmly punches Nigel in the face.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>OK. Ow. Shit. I'm broke but I known a stunning outer suberb converted gymnasium quality apartment and rooms are going vacant so I'm trying to...<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>I'll take it.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What? I thought <i>I </i>was the one with concussion!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>You've damaged my property. Until the decorators are finished, I need a place to stay.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I don't want you in my house, whatever your name is!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>You can call me Cuddles. And if you find that funny I will snap your femur.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Look you walnut-filled condom on chopsticks...<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Hey, leave it, Nige. You want paying guests, take what you're given.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Oh, I'm not paying. I'll take the rent owed out of the lawsuit I'm still tempted to file against you.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Lawsuit? Do you know who I am?!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Yes.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Shit, that means he could get me to court. Fine, "Cuddles". I suppose you can take Andrew's room until we find him.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles claps his hands girlishly and runs inside.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Find Andrew? He could be dead by now!<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Rule 1, Maurice. They're not dead until you see the body.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Yeah, tell that to Jimmy Hoffa.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Who?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>I dunno. People said that to me once when I did the "see the body" thing.<br />
<br />
<i>[They cross to the brick wall Andrew impacted on. There is an impact dent and a bloodstain.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Well, it doesn't take CSI: Los Angeles to see he was hurt.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>It's not that bad. Headwounds always bleed out. He must have regained consciousness and walked away.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>He could still have died from an anuerysm or something.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>In which case, someone would have found the body by now. If only we knew where he was going.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Oh! I've got an idea!<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice starts to run to a phone box.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>We can call Katy - he probably went to see her.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Ah.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Ah?<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback. Nigel is by the kitchen table which is covered with buttermenthol wrappers and he picks up the landline. When he speaks, his voice is absolutely identical with Andrew’s mellow tones.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Katy: </b>Hello?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: <i>[Andrew's Voice] </i></b>Katy, is that you? Katy, this is difficult for me.<br />
<br />
<b>Katy: </b>What is?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: <i>[Andrew's Voice] </i></b>Well, look, it was either ringing you up or telling you face to face and getting slapped for ten minutes straight.<br />
<br />
<b>Katy: </b>What?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: <i>[Andrew's Voice] </i></b>Katy, there comes a time in life to grow and change. With your compassion and guidance I have discovered the beauty of life. Now, I must go into the world a new person, and seek out my own truths. So, er... I’m out of here, you slut! But, er, I will remember you January, like a memory I once had.<b><i> [calls]</i></b> Pass the gin, will you Serena?<br />
<br />
<b>Katy:<i> [stunned] </i></b>So, this is goodbye?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: <i>[Andrew's Voice] </i></b>Goodbye, you nagging know-it-all bitch! Do you owe me any money? No? Well, don’t be too put out that you screwed this one up. That’s the problem with you lady, you never could hold a relationship past three weeks.<br />
<br />
<b>Katy: </b>Fine! Piss off – you’re like all the rest! I’m sick of you! All men are bastards...<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel hangs up. End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>So. You tricked Katy into breaking up with Andrew before you blew up his place and probably killed him in the process.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>See, when you put it like that, it sounds bad.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>It sounds bad because it IS bad you stupid arsehole!<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Why are you forgetting the "drunk with evil power" bit? Hey, if their love was so awesome, it could have survived anything I did. And if that stupid ape-shape hadn't distracted Andrew, he would have had enough time to realize the hut was full of plastic explosive and do a runner. So, technically, he's the bad guy.<br />
<br />
<i>[It turns out Cuddles is right behind them, with lots of backpacker stuff.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Who's the bad guy?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: <i>[sighs] </i></b>Oh, this relationship is not going to improve any time soon.<br />
<br />
<i>[Later. Cuddles' stuff has been packed into the boot of Wynona. Cuddles and Maurice close the boot and climb inside. Nigel is in the passenger seat. Maurice glares at him.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Don't glare at me, boy. I intend to find Andrew.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Andrew's dead, obviously. He stumbled into some back alley, karked it and is probably on a mortuary slab right now thanks to you!<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>And you call yourself a friend with that attitude?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Well he's not the one who blew him up.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Cuddles, unless you have something to contribute to the conversation be silent. In fact, you should bring silence to every conversation from now on.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles reaches across and slams Nigel's head against the dashboard. Nigel grabs the handle of his chair and it jack-knifes back into Cuddles face and he cries out.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You know, I hold Andrew in some small regard so imagine the sort of shit I might do to you if you keep this up you over-oiled anabolic baboon! <i>[brightly] </i>Right, now primal dominance over the herd has been reasserted, we need to find Andrew.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>How? Check out the morgue?<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Nonsense. All we need to do is think like him.<br />
<br />
<i>[Long pause.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Man, this is going to be difficult, isn't it? OK, well, working on the assumption Andrew wasn't killed what would he do now he has nowhere to go and no one to turn to? Well, he'd need money - especially after I emptied his account...<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>My god, there are Nazis out there who've done more for human decency...<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Shut up, Cuddles! Now, Andrew needed money, he needed work... He'd go to the nearest toy store that hadn't already fired him. Where's the nearest shopping centre, Maurice?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You've lived here for three years and you're asking that now?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Hey, I probably knew, I just destroyed that brain cell with alocohol poisoning.<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice rolls his eyes and then starts the engine. Wynona drives off.]</i><br />
<br />
<i>[The parkling lot around a Westfield shopping centre. Nigel, Maurice and Cuddles emerge from the car and start moving towards the centre.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I've got a good feeling about this, people. Walking distance from the disaster area, plenty of warmth and food and employment opportunities - if Andrew was headed anywhere it would be here.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>You know, the argument for him being dead in a back alley is getting very compelling about now.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh, how many potential homicides have you investigated, muscle man? The same number as Stuart Littlemore. Zero! Besides, you're both underestimating the sheer thickness of Andrew's skull. Believe you me, I know where of I speak - I've tried to bash it in enough times.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>He's not going to be there, Nige. At best he'd be in some intensive care unit...<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Maurice, this is precisely the attitude that made you fail the HSC.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>I didn't fail.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Denial isn't the answer, Maurice.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>No, it <i>is!</i><br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles laughs uproarishly. Nigel and Maurice eye him uncertainly.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Dear god, I hope we find him. You've actually lowered the bar.<br />
<br />
<i>[They enter Westfield.]</i><br />
<br />
<i>[Main hall. It is full of people. The trio approach a detailed model of the shopping centre under a glass case with a map superimposed over the top. Nigel looks around.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>OK, well the toy stores are up on the top level.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Another conspiracy. Designed to drag all the parents through the whole complex, so they're more likely to impulse buy all the way. Brainwashing, I tell you.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Do you actually do anything about all these social problems?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>I don't ignore them.<i> [folds arms] </i>That's enough. Oh yeah, that's enough.<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel approaches a cafe.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I remember this place. I've been here before with Andrew and that moron Mungo Smith!<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback. A waitress called Alf is talking to Andrew and Nigel as they sit at a table with Mungo.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Alf: </b>$15 for the drinks, boys.<br /><br /><b>Andrew: </b>Sure, whatever.<br />
<br />
<i>[He pulls out a wallet and hands over some cash. She hands it back.]</i><br /><br /><b>Andrew: </b>You don’t take Monopoly Money?<br /><br /><b>Alf: </b>Fraid not, smelly.<br /><br /><b>Andrew:<i> [sighs]</i> </b>I tried. You can’t say I didn’t try.<br /><br /><b>Alf: </b>No, but I can say you didn’t pay, so pay up!<br /><br /><i>[Nigel stands up, between Andrew and Alf.]</i><br /><br /><b>Nigel: <i>[charming] </i></b>I’m sure the value of those drinks can be made up in... other ways, don’t you think? Eh? Get my drift? Uh?<br /><br /><b>Alf:<i> </i><i>[folds arms]</i></b> What? You want to wash dishes for the next three weeks, cause that’s what it’s gonna cost to cover the bill.<br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>Three weeks for $15? That’s daylight robbery!<br /><br /><b>Alf: </b>Yeah, and so is not paying for your drinks.<br /><br /><i>[Andrew stands up, calmly.]</i><br /><br /><b>Andrew: </b>Now, now, no need for such unpleasantness. I’m sure we can rustle up enough money if we pull our heads together.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[He waves Mungo and Alf together for a huddle, then grabs their heads and slam them together. They fall down unconscious. Andrew pulls out Mungo’s coin purse, opens it and pours the silver coins out over their prone forms.]</i><br /><br /><b>Andrew: </b>Hah! Charge <i>that, </i>you slags!<br /><br /><i>[Huffing, he turns to face Nigel.]</i><br /><br /><b>Andrew: </b>Come, Nigella. We’re leaving.<br /><br /><i>[Nigel nods and they leave, looking dignified. End flashback. Nigel sniffs back a tear.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh. Good times. I'm coming for you, Andy-Pandy!<br />
<br />
<i>[He hurries off. Shaking their heads in despair, Cuddles and Maurice follow.]</i><br />
<br />
<i>[Montage. The trio are in the liquor store, with Nigel performing a strange monkey mime to the guy behind the desk. He shakes his head. Nigel talks earnestly. The guy pulls back a wall panel to reveal a row of photographs and BARRED FOR LIFE written above them. There is a photo of Andrew with a rubber chicken, face half-blue. Nigel points to the photo. The guy shakes his head.]</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[A plaza with mini rides for kids - vans and helicopters and cars and boats and rocking horses. Nigel checks them, occasionally double-checking the riders even though they're all under fives. He shakes his despair and moves on.]</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[Cuddles and Maurice point out a photobooth to one side. Nigel, delighted, whips back a curtain but it's empty. He sighs miserably and they move on.]</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[The escalaters. As they ride up to the top floor, Nigel looks around miserably for Andrew. No sign of him. He then looks down to the lower level where a stage is set up and a guy in a Shrek outfit is dancercizing with a load of kids dancing along. Exciting, Nigel starts running down the stairs but as they're going upwards, gets absolutely nowhere.]</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[Telephones near the toilets. Maurice chats to a security man there, describing Andrew. Cuddles is far more interested in a sushi bar. Maurice starts to flirt with the security man, who blows him a kiss.]</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[Nigel finally climbs across the escalator onto the one going down and runs the rest of the way. He runs up on stage, half-angry and half-delighted and tears off Shrek's head. It is not Andrew but a black teenage girl who is pissed off. She knees Nigel in the bollocks and he collapses. The children cheer and start kicking Nigel as well, in a massive gang-bash.]</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[Cuddles notes a carpet rug rolled up on display outside a store. Idly, he unrolls it in case someone is inside. They aren't. He minces away before the store owner can come out and complain.]</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[The montage ends as Nigel, very bruised, limps out of Toys R Us with the others behind. Nearby is a newsagent with a Greek girl idly flipping through the poster rack.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Nothing. No one's seen him, heard from him - they sure as hell would've smelt him. He hasn't applied for a job. <i>[sighs] </i>Maybe we should've checked out the alleyways near the park to make sure.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Ooh, before we do I want to get the latest issue of <i>New Dawn!</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>It's just a reprint you know. They don't come up with new material.<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>God damn! I knew it!<br />
<br />
<i>[Furious, Cuddles storms into the newsagent. The girl, Vasiliki, turns to them. She carries a rolled-up poster in her hands.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Hah! Like injecting fish in a shooting gallery.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>You looking for someone?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Hrm. Yes.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Would it be a very distinctive, smelly sort of guy?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Why yes.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>I might have seen him.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Yeah, and you <i>might </i>have just been overhearing my glorious baritone voice. I know a con when I see one.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Hey, just cause I'm Greek doesn't mean I'm Con the fruitier you know! That's totally racist!<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b><i>[eye rolls] </i>Puh-lease. You're trying to scam me.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Me? Scam you? How dare you, mister!<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles returns and spots the poster rack.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Ooh! That's a point, I should get some posters for my new place!<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Oh, you got some new accomodation?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Yes, bleach-blondie over there needs paying tennants at his place.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Oh really?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What? No. No, no, no! Shut up!<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>I happen to be in need of somewhere to crash...<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Paying customers only, Stephenidies!<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>So, so racist.<i> [to Cuddles] </i>How much is he charging you?<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>Oh, I'm getting it free. It's cheaper than legal fees, right, Nigel?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Oh, so you're open to an offer, are you?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What, are you going to blackmail me after our minute-long association are you?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>How about a gamble? I win, I get your spare room for a week, no questions asked.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>There will be no questions asked because the answer given is no. I have a very select criteria...<br />
<br />
<i>[She holds up her hands.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Hear me out. How long have we known each other?<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice checks his watch.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>About seventy-seconds.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>OK. So seven... <i>[looks around] </i>Seven posters! I'll ask you to find seven posters and if you can't, I win. What's more, you can choose the posters I need to look for.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What? Entirely off the top of my head?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Given there's a reasonable chance for them to be in this poster rack. How fair is that? Guess seven posters are there. If they're not, I get your room to let and if you find them, I'll never bother you again. No bones about it. You won't find any skeletons in my closet.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Hrm. OK... Okay... er... a chick on a sports car and/or powerboat.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>OK. Big fellah, you find it for him.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles looks through the poster rack, flips through them and comes up with</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>One out of seven.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>OK, some obscure American basketballer no one's ever heard of.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles looks and takes out a poster of a basketballer.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Ever heard of Dominik Wilson?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Nope. Guess that counts. OK, some ghastly 80s rock band in awkward pose.<br />
<br />
<i>[A moment later, Cuddles pulls out another poster.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>"Black Nadir and the Puss-Suckers". That fits.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b> OK, some sort of homestead with a bowl of fruit on the table.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles easily finds it.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Too easy, isn't it?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>A completely gratuitous festival of boob flesh.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles finds a suitable poster. Nigel takes it out of the rack.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You can pay for that one, Cuddles.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Five. More than half way. Still feeling confident?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Immensely. Your bizarre hustle will not work. There's bound to be Marylin Monroe in there.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles shows the second poster on the rack is Marylin Munroe.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Come on. I've got one last chance. Go on, be specific!<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b> The skeleton on the toilet.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Nigel, man, unfair. It's law there's one in every newsagents. And possibly the national gallery.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Find it, Cuddles.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles starts looking through the posters. He keeps looking.] </i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>The pee-estre-resistance! Quite an easy one, you could put a timer!<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles is still looking.] </i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:<i> [less confident] </i></b>It can't be too far away. It'll turn up.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles reaches the end of the rack and starts looking back through them.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Where the hell's that damn skeleton! They can't leave that out!<br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>You should've picked Patrick Swayze, there's a dozen of him in here...<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles reaches the end and shakes his head.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: <i>[smug] </i></b>Oh dear. Oh dear oh dear oh dear.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Daughter of a bastard! This must be the only newsagent on Earth without that damn poster!<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>So it's agreed? I'm your new flatmate?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You're working on the highly uncertain suggestion I am a man of my word.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>We had a verbal agreement. I can sue you.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>And how are you going to afford the legal fees?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>I might know someone in the legal profession.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I don't doubt it. You hustled me!<br />
<br />
<i>[Vasiliki gasps in shock and bobs him with the poster.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>How dare you, sir! For that, you can buy me a poster!<br />
<br /><i>[Nigel frowns, grabs her poster and unfolds it. It is a lurid painted image of a skeleton in a top hat sitting on a toilet with a rose in its jaw. Nigel looks at Vasiliki in shock.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You cunning bitch.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Hey, I had this <i>before </i>we made our wager.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>How did you know he'd pick it?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Everyone knows every poster rack has the skeleton in it, he was bound to have picked it off the top of his head. Plus a little bit of neuro-linguistic suggestion.<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback in slow-mo...]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki:</b> ...skeletons... to let... bones...<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I don't care. I don't have to take you in.<br />
<br />
<i>[Cuddles' hand thumps down on Nigel's shoulder.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Cuddles: </b>I think you should.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>It'll just be for a week. And who's to say I was lying about seeing your friend?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>The fact you refer to him as a friend, for a start.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Is that how Andrew would put it?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You're a hustler, you overhead me asking the staff.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Did I? It's not going to kill you to give me the benefit of the doubt, is it?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: <i>[sighs] </i></b>Oh, if only it would. All right, you can come with us. What's your name, anyway?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Vasiliki.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Really. I shall call you Silky.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>You wouldn't be the first. Oh, we've got to pick up my stuff on the way.<br />
<br />
<i>[The street outside the house. Wynona pulls up. The doors open. Cuddles goes to the boot, opens it and starts taking out his stuff. Nigel heads for the front doors and opens them. Vasiliki and Maurice carry an unconcious goth chick with dyed hair and skimpy outfit to the doors.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You consider close relatives "your stuff", then.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Well, let's just say she's emotional baggage. Don't worry, Nemonie's completely nocturnal, you won't even know that she's there. Unless she finds your stereo and a Cradle of Filth album.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>What happens then?<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Normally? We look for another place.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You should be doing that already. Vasiliki and Nemonie, you sound like retarded pokemon!<br />
<br />
<i>[Hallway. Nigel leads Maurice and Vasiliki as they carry Nemonie inside.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>What are you complaining about, Nige? You were desperate for company last night.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Yes, but not yours! Or any of these <i>Pizza </i>rejects who refuse to shift hard-earned cash!<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: <i>[to Vasiliki] </i></b>He's just cranky.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Not getting any, huh?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Last night, he found this barmaid but then he vomited up her--<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Shut up Maurice! God what a horrible day. Abandoned, broke and I seem to be collecting freeloading idiots like some kind of moron-gathering Pied Piper...<br />
<br />
<i>[He enters the living area, stops and sighs.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh look, two more!<br />
<br />
<i>[Sitting in the chairs are Dr. Spoon and Chamber. Boxes of their stuff fill the room.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Afternoon, Verkoff! We let ourselves in, hope you don't mind.<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>And if you do, we don't particularly care.<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>What time's supper?<br />
<br />
<i>[While Vasiliki and Maurice lower Nemonie onto the couch between them, Nigel confronts the pair.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What in the name of Kim Beazley's urinary tract infection are you two doing here?<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Well, we live here now.<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Yeah, obviously.<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>What a stupid question.<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Pfft.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>And who said you could do that?<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Well. <i>You </i>did.<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Couldn't have put it better myself, Chamber. You rang us up last night, all tired and emotional, and begged us to come and live with you, rent free, for as long as we liked because your silly treasure hunt meant you couldn't pay us for services rendered.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Services rendered? You dug a hole in the backyard!<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber:<i> [yawns] </i></b>I know. You're really generous, man.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I never made that phone call!<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Or are you just too drunk to remember?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>That's beside the point!<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>I dunno, you seem to be offering rooms a lot today. Hey. Vasiliki.<br />
<br />
<i>[Chamber shakes her hand.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>Archibald "Arco" Chamber. The albino over there yonder dressed as Tom Baker is Rupert Woosing-Gard, but we all call him Dr. Spoon.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>Why? You a gynaecologist?<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>No, oddly enough. <i>[beat] </i>Well, I dabble. <i>[confidentially] </i>And I am a dab hand with a speculum, when's all said and done.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>I'll bear that in mind, Doc.<i> [points]</i> That's my cousin, Nemonie, but you're unlikely to meet her when she's conscious.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Stop talking to each other! None of you are welcome here! Get out of my house!<br />
<br />
<b>Chamber: </b>You invited us here.<br />
<br />
<b>Vasiliki: </b>That's a verbal agreement, you know.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Shut up, Silky.<i> [to Dr. Spoon] </i>Can you actually prove I invited you here?<br />
<br />
<b>Dr. Spoon: </b>I think the question you should be asking, Verkoff, is - can you actually prove you <i>didn't?</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel groans in despair.]</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<i><b>- to be continued...</b></i>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-48203986781470671452015-09-28T19:12:00.000+10:002015-09-28T19:12:40.865+10:00YOA and the Format RestructureWell, clearing out ye olde hardedrivee I stumbled across an incomplete episode sketched in back in 2002. Myself and Damian Sanchez had the idea <i>YOA </i>would be an ongoing series like <i>Heartbreak High</i>, with an ever-changing cast passing through a single location so by the end of the fourth season, all the original characters would have been replaced. (I think we had some idea this would prevent flanderization if we just tore through the series). After briefly keeping Dave as the audience identification, I decided to keep Nigel instead on the grounds he was easiest to organize plots around.<br />
<br />
While I won't repost the truly atrocious finale "Galfray" (I know, it seemed a cool injoke at the time) let it be shown it wrote out Andrew, Katy, Harry, Dave and Eve on a permanent basis leaving Nigel on his own at rock bottom - and slightly less contrived than <i>Time Gentlemen Please </i>which came up with a similar 'rats-deserting-sinking-ship' episode ending.<br />
<br />
However, we didn't quite work out who would replace them... or how...<br />
<br />
<br />
<b><u>THE YOUTH OF AUSTRALIA IV:</u></b> <i><b>Reprisals & Recovery</b></i><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>by EWEN CAMPION-CLARKE and DAMIAN SANCHEZ </i></span><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[Local pub. "Love Is The Drug" plays in the background. Everything is slow-mo, dissolve mixes and soft focus. Nigel sits at the bar besides Maurice. Nigel is cradling a half-finished beer and is completely pissed. He gives come-hither looks to Julie the barmaid, who returns them. Nigel smirks.]</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>[A blurring montage of Nigel drunkenly making out with someone we can't see. Fade to black.]</i><br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel's room. Nigel lies face down on his heart-shaped bed, sprawled messily across his bedmate. The room is very untidy with empty bottles and beer cans everywhere. Nigel groans.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh my skull! My stomach! All points in between! Especially my nads! Julie, don't take this the wrong way but if I've got some nasty STD off you, I shall be very annoyed... Julie? Julie?<br />
<br />
<i>[The bedmate rolls over. It is not Julie, but Maurice. Nigel yelps and jumps out of bed, grabbing a potplant to cover himself even though he's fully-clothed.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>ARGH! Who the hell are you?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>It's me, Maurice.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Maurice?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Yeah, Maurice de Lacey? We were at high school together? And primary school? And I drop round here all the time? I work with Dave at Frontier Videos?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b><i>[blankly] </i>Maurice?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Spelt M-A-U-R-I-C-E.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh! YOU!<i> [frowns] </i>What the hell are you doing in my bed, you subpar homosexual? Don't get me wrong, I have no problem with your life choices but even if I was gay you would not be on my list so if I had sex with you last night I trust I was disappointed while you are now some clingy bunny-boiling stalker.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You're not my type, Nige.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh, at least <i>try </i>to sound credible!<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Nope, I prefer my men physically underendowed.<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel starts to reply, frown, then giggles girlishly. He quickly recovers.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Never mind that, now! What are you doing in my bed?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Julie told me to take you home. I think she was kind of put off you when you threw up.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh. I must've have too much to drink.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You threw up in her lap.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Twice.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Ah.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>While you were going down on her.<br />
<br />
<i>[A looooooooooong pause.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You know, there are some cultures where that's considered lucky.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>No, there aren't.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>No, there aren't. Damn.<br />
<br />
<i>[Main living area. No one else is around, most of the furniture is missing. Nigel and Maurice emerge from Nigel's room, the latter pulling on his trousers. Nigel wears a torn and scruffy kimono.] </i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>But why didn't you just dump me here and head home? You've got your own place to live, don't you?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You begged me not to leave. Remember? You grabbed hold of my ankle and wouldn't let go, pleading that you could change and you'd made a mistake and you wanted a second chance?<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel listens, pulling strange faces as he tries to remember.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>No. I do not remember.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Well, you were paralytic. We couldn't have had sex if we'd tried.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I can't imagine why I'd be acting like that... hang on, did I call you Benny?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>No.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Then why on Earth would I be so upset and depressed?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Oh yeah, you said something to me about that.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Did I?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Yeah, you said "If I wake up and can't remember why I'm upset, you've got to get me to embrace the moment. Make me hang on to the amnesia because that tiny moment of zero recall is the best thing that is going to happen to me for some considerable time."<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Pah! It couldn't possible be that bad.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>"I'll say it couldn't possibly be that bad but whatever I do, don't let me access my memory. I won't like it one little bit because it is the worst situation I have ever been in my entire life."<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Something that bad, I'd remember...<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel freezes. Bites his fist. Closes his eyes. Bends over and jumps up and down. Then falls to his knees, head in his hands sobbing. This goes on for a while.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Did you remember?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b><i>[sobs] </i>Yes.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You said if you remembered, I was to give you a message.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b><i> [tightly] </i>What was the message?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>"I told you not to remember, dipshit!"<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Yeah that sounds like me. Oh god, this is most vile, graceless, deformed, distorted, asymmetrical, eye-wateringly dire straits I've ever been in! It's the end of the freaking world, Maurice and I do not feel fine - I feel about as far from freaking fine as it is as possible to be!<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice looks around.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Where are Dave and Andrew, anyway?<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel lets out another sob.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Must - seek - alcohol!<br />
<br />
<i>[He stumbles over to the fridge, opens it and pulls out a bottle of wine. He opens the lid and knocks it back. He starts rummaging for more alcohol.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Be careful, Nige. Your liver took a lot of punishment last night.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Not enough! Oh, sweet oblivion where art though?<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel takes out a jar of pickled gherkins, crosses to the sink, and puts a glass in the sink. He covers the glass with a collander and strains the gherkins. He then takes the glass full of pickle juice and drinks it.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Come on, Nigel, it can't be that bad!<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Can't be that bad? They're gone, you annoying little virus! No more Dave, no more Andrew! Nothing but me, stuck in his place - which I now own and have to pay for out of my money! Except I don't have any money because I wasted it getting pissed last night before filling up a barmaid's birth canal with vomit! What can you possibly say to undo this mortal agony, Maurice? It might not happen? Worse things happen at sea? It takes more muscles to frown than to smile? All three are utter bollocks, Maurice, and frankly I'm a little disappointed you'd think otherwise.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Look, maybe you're overexaggerating things. What actually happened?<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel takes out a bottle of salad dressing and drinks it. He takes a moment to recover.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>It's a long story. <br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>And to cut a long story short?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Um... "the end?"<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>OK, cut it slightly longer than that.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Well, it's hard to put in context. I tried explaining it all to Andrew last time I saw him...<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback. Like old film, black and white, scratches, the sound of a projector. Andrew is in the kitchen with Nigel, who is holding a gun.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>The information is not important, as you have no way of using it to your advantage.<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>The careers adviser said that to me a couple of times. As well as our
maths teacher. And my parents said something similar when I asked them
where babies came from. Go on, Nige. Illuminate me already.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>All right. It started back in 1987, when I was watching the Bush Tucker Man on TV...<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew:</b> This is going to suck, isn’t it?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Shut up.<br />
<br />
<i>[End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Can you cut it slightly smaller than that?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Well... <br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>Oi! Nige! Why can’t I get into my room? <br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:<i> [doesn't look up] </i></b>I’m afraid it isn’t your room any more, Andrew. It belongs to me. <br />
<br />
<b>Andrew:<i> [pleased]</i></b> At last, you agree with me. I always said your room was originally mine. I’m glad you’ve come to your senses. <br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b> No part of this house belongs to you in any way shape or form, Andrew. I am now legal owner of this entire property.<i> [pulls out paper] </i>Check if you like, but its all water tight. You can’t do a thing. <br />
<br />
<i>[Andrew takes the papers and look at them.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>There are no pictures. I like pictures. <br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:<i> [annoyed]</i> </b>Just read them. <br />
<br />
<b>Andrew:</b> This is four pages! Back to back! Look, can’t you just summarize it for me. I’ve got places to be. <br />
<br />
<i> [Nigel snatches the papers back.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b>
I know. One such place is not here. As owner of this house, I am
legally entitled to demand you vacate the premises and do not return
under any circumstances. <br />
<br />
<b>Andrew:</b> I thought Eve owned this house. <br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b> She did. Until I bought it from her. <br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>YOU? You actually PAID for this house? WHY? <br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b>
Well, a number of reasons actually. Apart from anything else, it
gives me the opportunity to get rid of you once and for all. Now, get
out of here before I call the police. <br />
<br />
<i>[End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I had already exercised my power where it came to Dave.<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b> I have already exercised my power where it comes to Dave. He’s just popped back to his house and his loving family. <br />
<br />
<b>Andrew:</b>
Dave HATES his family. That’s why he left in the first place!
There’s no way he’d have gone back there voluntarily, it would be a
place worse than death! <br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: <i>[grins] </i></b>I never said he went voluntarily. <br />
<br />
<b>Andrew:</b> Why? What are you doing this for? Dave never hurt you! <br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b> No, he didn’t. But he is an obstacle on my road to riches. <br />
<br />
<b>Andew: </b>As I am, presumably? <br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:</b>
Ah, the first faint glimmerings of intelligence. I wish I could
observe its development, but it really is time for you to go, Andrew. <br />
<br />
<i>[He pulls out a gun from his pocket and aims at Andrew’s head.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>One way or another.<br />
<br />
<i>[End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>That sounds a bit melodrammatic.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Yeah, I'd spent all night watching <i>Babylon 5. </i>Got me a bit theatrical.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>So what happened next?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Actually that bit we just went through.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>All right. It started back in 1987, when I was watching the Bush Tucker Man on TV...<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew:</b> This is going to suck, isn’t it?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Shut up.<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>Haven’t you read <i>Evil Plots For Dummies</i>?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:<i> </i><i>[ignores him]</i></b> The episode concerned a small historical oddity. Some Aborigines encountered white explorers with muskets – but they weren’t Europeans, because they used rifles. I was interested and did some research.<br />
<br />
<i>[Andrew stares at him, arching an eyebrow.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>OK, I <i>paid </i>someone else to do some research and discovered that they buried their treasure somewhere in Australia. Over the next 14 years I narrowed it down to NSW, then this suburb, then this street. This morning I discovered it was this house, so I set my plan in action.<br />
<br />
<i>[End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>So you got rid of them because you thought you'd found buried treasure?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Ptff. Like I needed the excuse.<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>It wouldn’t work. Anything you find on this property would automatically be Eve’s property and I doubt she would share it among us.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:<i> [smiles]</i> </b>Which is why I bought the house. Australian Law bends to my favor, but I’m getting rid of you just in case.<br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>Really, so what happens once we’re gone? Even if it is declared treasure trove, doubloons aren’t legal tender any more; they’re bound to have depreciated.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh, I shall sell them to an art gallery or something. Suffice it to say, a chain reaction has started today and it cannot be stopped. When it ends, I am the winner of all this.<br />
<br />
<br />
<i>[End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You <i>really </i>hadn't thought this through, had you?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh, it's very easy to judge in hindsight, buster.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>So how did Andrew react when you outlined your master scheme?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Well, I'd be lying if I said he was <i>entirely </i>behind the idea.<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback. Nigel is on the ground writhing in agony. Andrew is walking away.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Andrew: <i>[over his shoulder] </i></b>See you on your way down, Nigel.<br />
<br />
<i>[End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>But on the plus side he couldn't actually fault the mechanics of the operation.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>If it was so faultless, where's the treasure?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>You just had to bring that up, didn't you you spiteful little bastard?<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback. Nigel strides out into the backyard. Dr. Spoon and Chamber are dozing under a tree.]</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Right, you roustabouts, time for work! There is a planet I have to conquer or buy and I’m feeling particularly evil today. Get to work, you two!<br /><br /><i>[They start digging at the base of the tree.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:<i> [sotto] </i></b>In a few moments I shall be the richest man in the southern hemisphere, and soon, the most powerful man on the planet. Ha! Time to retire, Sam Kekovitch – Nigel Verkoff is here! Heh!<br /><br /><i>[Nigel laughs evilly. Pan across to show the others staring at him.]</i><br />
<br /><b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Mad as a box of frogs.<br />
<br />
<i>[End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>And the treasure wasn't there?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Well... not exactly. But pretty much.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>It's either one or the other.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>And don't I bloody know it?<br />
<br />
<i>[Flashback. Dr. Spoon and Chamber have dug up an old treasure chest.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Out of my way, plebeians! Destiny has arrived!<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel opens the chest. It's empty. Chamber laughs.]</i><br />
<br /><b>Chamber: </b>Looks like destiny has done a runner, perm-boy.<i> [to Dr. Spoon] </i>Uh, this means we don’t get paid, huh?<br /><br /><b>Dr. Spoon: </b>Fraid so, my old cantaloupe.<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel falls to his knees, pulling at his hair with mounting horror.]</i><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>But... But... I’ve used up all my cash on this! And now I actually own the house I have pay for all the bills and since the others aren’t here, I can’t charge them for rent... I’m ruined! Ruined! RUINED!<br />
<br />
<i>[He screams and headbuts the ground. Dr. Spoon and Chamber watch on for a moment and then cautiously creep off, leaving Nigel wailing and howling. End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Ouch.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Well, yeah but I prided myself I'd soon see the funny side.<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i>[Flashback. Nigel sits on the couch in the empty house, seemingly in shock. He takes out his wallet and empties it, but there is obviously only a $20 note and nothing else. He regards it dully.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel:<i> [sotto] </i></b>No Andrew. No Dave. Just me and an empty house.<br /><br /><i>[For a moment, it looks like he’s going to cry. He lets out a primal scream.]</i><br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>FAN-TAST-TIC!<br /><br /><i>[He runs over to the phone, and punches out a number.]</i><br /><br /><b>Nigel: </b>Hello, is that Hookers’R’Us? Phew. That was a piece of luck. I have no idea what I dialed. Look, the party of this and any other millennium is happening in <i>[checks watch] </i>forty-one minutes so get your bitches’ arses round here pronto!What do you mean, ‘give you the number’? This is N talking! N! The Sex God! Nigel Verkoff! Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of me. You haven’t? Well, start listening, ho!<br />
<br />
<i>[End flashback.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>And the next thing I know I'm lying in bed with you.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Wow. You're one screwed pooch, Nige.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oh, hark at you! Do you treat every one you share your bed with like this? No wonder you're single.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Madam, I might be single but you are stuffed and but at least tonight I might get some.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Your Winston Churchill misquotes have no affect on me, Maurice. Now, let's get down to business. How the hell are we going to save me as my "drink yourself to death" plan has failed?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Um... why the hell should I help you anyway? You got yourself into this mess!<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>So, it should logically be possible to get me out of this!<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>On your own. Ciao.<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice rises and heads for the door.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Hey, if you walk out now you'll never have the moral highground! <br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: <i>[puzzled] </i></b>Why the hell would I want the moral highground?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Are you saying you'd rather lose the moral highground? C'mon, Maurice! What if God really does hate the gays? You need all the good karma you can get to be on the safe side.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>You disgust me, Nigel. You think just because I don't fancy girls I'm some fairweather friend who can be crudely manipulated with threats and paranoia, to the point I'd forgive the hideous things you've done to me and my friends for the last fifteen years?<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel shifts uncomfortably.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Well, be fair, you sure gave me that impression.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: <i>[shrugs] </i></b>Well, yeah, but now I'm taking the right medication, so screw you!<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice departs. Nigel screams after him.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>I can set you up with my cousin! The really hot one with the widow's peak and the tiny dick!<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice re-enters and sits down at the table.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>OK, deal.<br />
<br />
<i>[Nigel sits beside him.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Right, so how the hell do I get out of this mess?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Well, since you own the place, you could rent the rooms out. Between that and the dole you might be able to break even long enough to sell this place back to Eve.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>What freaks would choose to live here?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Well, Andrew and Dave for a start. You want them back don't you?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Me? Want them? Maybe as a constant comforting reminder of the walking detritus they are... <i>[sighs]</i> No, I'm lying to myself. Yeah, I miss the freaks and I want to make amends. But would they forgive me?<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Have you apologized?<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Not that I remember.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Well, that's the best thing to do. Find them, apologize and maybe we can sort this out.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>It's so simple it is obviously going to go wrong. However, as I have not a single cent to my name and signs of dangerous dehydration about to kick in, I must bow to your momentary and inferior wisdom.<br />
<br />
<i>[Maurice dope-slaps Nigel.]</i><br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Oi!<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>Get used to relying on the kindness of strangers, Nige. Coz only strangers will be kind to you.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Who are you? The Sphinx from <i>Mystery Men? </i>It is too early for this koan shit.<br />
<br />
<b>Maurice: </b>It's coming up to midday.<br />
<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Yeah, well, I operate on Tokyo time...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><b>- to be continued...</b></i>Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-26060371694721212692015-09-28T13:33:00.003+10:002015-09-28T13:33:54.713+10:00Time Lord - The Premise's FamiliarAboot has gone and taken Kyron Cookson, Tom Mallet and even Nala Stevens have vanished into the either with them. Lawrence Miles is still around but given he's seemingly (by his own admission) unable to do more but whine <i>Radio Times </i>used to be cool, his opinion isn't even trying to be revelent.<br />
<br />
So only Mark "Fuck Me This Chatham Business Has Been Going On For A Decade" Goacher actually has anything to say about this episode:<br />
<br />
<span style="color: orange;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em><em>7/10 for that one. Not bad at all actually.
</em>The Doctor and Missy being silly/wacky was the only thing that spoiled that episode. Otherwise very good.
</em><em>The Dalek city and the look and design of Skaro were indeed very good. Looked like the original in 'The Daleks'.</em></span></span></span><br />
<em><br /></em>
Yeah, I know, hardly worth quoting but the truth is it's harder for anyone to review something they like.<br />
<br />
And me? I liked it from the moment we didn't have a copout cliffhanger resolution which, to be honest, Moffat has never really been able to impress - to whit:<br />
<br />
<b>The Empty Child: </b>our heroes are about to be consumed by a zombie hoard.<br />
<b>The Doctor Dances: </b>the zombies go away when the Doctor tells them to.<br />
<b>Silence in the Library: </b>our heroes are about to be consumed by living darkness/zombie hoard.<br />
<b>Forest of the Damned: </b>River remember her gun, used only to blow escape tunnels through walls to escape the zombies, is perfect for this situation and uses it.<br />
<b>The Pandorica Opens: </b>the universe ends.<br />
<b>The Big Bang: </b>the universe hasn't quite ended yet.<br />
<b>The Impossible Astronaut: </b>River and Rory are attacked by the Silence and Amy accidentally shoots a little girl.<br />
<b>Day of the Moon: </b>three months later, Amy mentions she was glad she missed.<br />
<b>A Good Man Goes To War: </b>River reveals she's Amy's daughter.<br />
<b>Let's Kill Hitler: </b>Amy and Rory vandalize a crop field.<br />
<br />
See? For most of them, you could cut out the cliffhanger and resolution entirely without damaging the story and in fact you'd probably improve it. But this time, Moff finally makes the cliffhanger a vital part of the plot - it's noted apparenly killing the Doctor's equivalent of Charlie's Angels has driven him to homicidal despair even though it could be a trick. Missy and Clara surviving comes at the cost of having to sneak into the city which in turn prompts Missy to try and get Clara killed. While UNIT and Bors and t'other lot don't appear this week, it feels more like the same story than any other Moff two-parter.<br />
<br />
There's also a thankful move away from introspection. Big Finish has demonstrated that while you can get some truly fantastic scenes with the Doctor and Davros arguing, it works better on audio because on TV you end up not too far from those scenes where Tom Baker was left emoting to a cardboard box pretending to be a robot dog. Visually a bit dull, you have to agree and NuWho simply can't do that - compare if you will the 12/Davros scenes and the 8/Davros scenes in Terror Firma. Despite treading similar ground and dramatic beats, but on TV we would have had PMG glaring a bit, Capaldi runs around the set pulling it apart, waving guns and wiring Davros up with snakes. There's even the moment he nicks Davros' chariot to break up the fact the story requires the Doctor and Davros to chat idly for an evening when TV audiences need a bit more yippe-kai-ay to keep them watching.<br />
<br />
And this is good because last year the mere thought of moral ambiguity left Capaldi standing in the shadows, vaguely muttering witty troubled thoughts and making Hartnell look like Frank Woodley in comaprison. Once again, the Doctor is actually doing things again and while I can see the appeal of a stoic, undemonstrative version of the Doctor, last year the subtlety strongly suggested that Capaldi hated the show he was in and refused to participate. This week we see him sitting in Davros' wheelchair, playing dodgems, drinking tea and getting strangled by rubber snakes - it's like he's cashing in whole seasons of Matt Smith wackiness in a single scene. The "clown" bit of "sad clown" is back, reminding us why anyone would want to spend time with the bloke - and the paradigm shift of getting rid of the sonic screwdriver to replace them with sonic shades goes with that. It'll piss off Mad Larry, who predicted it too.<br />
<br />
Personally, I agree with RTD that having a sonic lockpick improves plots (as he said, a moral dilemma should stop the Doctor rather than a locked door) and not CH Bidmead who, I kid you not, suggested that future stories should scrap the sonic screwdriver and only feature bad guy strongholds where all the doors are already locked. Given all the molenski univarii and sonic lances shoved into the hands of the Fifth and Sixth Doctors, the sonic gizmo is here to stay. It just means that the Doctor is now obsessed with his sunglasses while not being as pathetic as Jeremy Banks-Walker.<br />
<br />
<br />
Onto the main reason this episode rocked - it was <i>Double the Fist </i>again! Following the awesomeness of <i>Dinosaurs on a Spaceship, Nightmare in Silver</i> and <i>Day of the Doctor</i>, we have another story that could have been penned for the Fist team. Not only is Missy clearly Mephisto with poor Clara the Womp, we have a one-handed Davros (seeking to literally double the fist) arguing that the Doctor is a whinging, spineless no-fist dog. The Dalek armies might as well be clones of Panda while a certain vending machine could easily take the place of Colony Snake-in-Welsh. Rather than blind, helpless terror from relentless and unstoppable foes, we have a cast quite capable of fighting back with a pointed stick and some full-fisted passion. Even the scenes where Skaro is going to blow up and Missy seems trapped are not played for misery and pathos but high-octane fun - while Moff was kind enough to explain Missy's prior escapes, I dunno if we'll ever know how she escapes from this one. Facing certain death she suddenly, <i>Italian Job </i>style, has a plan as hot as her pants to survive and we cut to black. It's interesting to compare to Ainley who's constant deaths would be easier to explain if we thought he had the faintest idea of what to do; in <i>Castrovalva </i>it's like he's too insane to even TRY to escape, let alone manage it.<br />
<br />
Moffat doesn't bother to give Davros such exploration, though. We're not told how he got here or how he intends to escape - only that while the Master fought the Supreme Dalek in the Time War, he's never actually met Davros before. Though to be honest, all the clues are there if you want to put two and two together: Davros escaped the Crucible with an emergency temporal shift that sucked up all his energy, causing his terminal illness, and then landed in the 62nd Century or thereabouts where the last surviving Daleks following Trenzalore were hiding on restoration theme park Skaro. How Davros or any Daleks escape the holocaust unleashed here I cannot say, but Davros (unlike Missy) has no plan to survive. Given the regenerating Doctor wiped out a Dalek army, it makes sense the survivors would want their suckers on the same but it feels strange that the ongoing Dalek saga has ignored Rusty the Good Dalek. We all thought he was going to be the one to go back in time and put a bullet through Young Davros' head.<br />
<br />
(BTW, didn't boy Davros resemble Jonas Armstrong's Robin Hood? I now cannot imagine the Special Weapons Dalek as anything other than the Little John of the Dalek Empire as he glides around grating "TODAY IS A GOOD DIE TO DIE!" before nuking the opposition.)<br />
<br />
Speaking of Davros, it is needless to say Julian Bleach's performance is total perfection (while it seems Michelle Gomez needed to be sedated before she could be calm enough to portray Missy) and doesn't go ranty once as if to balance out his prior appearance. I dare say new viewers would be on Missy's side in wondering why Davros earned "Best Villain EVA" props from the Doctor, but this episode proves it - as well as demonstrating the fact that while the Doctor likes the Master despite everything, both he and Davros would much rather have been friends than enemies. The moment where they share a genuine laugh, clearly inspired by Batman and the Joker in <i>The Killing Joke</i>, could be the defining moment of their relationship. The Doctor and Davros have always respected each other's intelligence, but the fact they can joke with each other puts Davros up above any "worthy adversary".<br />
<br />
We also have Davros opening his eyes for the first time ever. Some (honestly) saw this as a betrayal of the character, others saw it as an interesting development. Me, I suddenly realized Davros was one rubber gimp suit away from being Scorpius. All in all, the set up of the story that this might be the very last Davros encounter was, to be blunt, convincing. Yes, we all knew that cute, weepy Davros was probably an act and he was undoubtedly going to backstab the Doctor but full props for playing it straight. Had Davros actually karked it, watching the sunrise like Handles, it would have been a convincing if not satisfying end.<br />
<br />
The story doesn't really contradict the prequel <i>I, Davros </i>(though you have to ask yourself how a pampered indoors kid like Davros possibly got onto the frontline without his mum going to rescue him) but it upholds the spirit that the character is more than just a blind, one-armed cripple. He's passionate, ambitious and he actually has the knack of getting on with people - he plays the Doctor like a fiddle, made all the more convincing because he's never actually lied like this to the Doctor before. The sight of Davros ripped out of his chair and thrown onto a table could have ruined the credibility of the character (especially given his, er, excited spinal chord that my family thought might have been a different part of his anatomy) but instead we have the first villain of NuWho to nearly the defeat the Doctor not through an army or blackmail, but by playing the Doctor's strengths against him. The last time that happened was in <i>Mawdryn Undead</i>, as far as I remembered. "You were sick and you asked for my help," indeed.<br />
<br />
<br />
So the story ends with the Daleks defeated, Davros screwed over and Missy obviously going to turn up at a latter date and maybe this time the production team will let her off the leash. The Doctor's not suicidal, he's got his shades and his hipster Classic Doc outfit, plus Clara who is probably the most psychologically-healthy we've seen her since Matt Smith left. Except we now have the dark brooding foreshadowing story arc of why the Doctor left Gallifrey in the first place.<br />
<br />
Why? I mean, fanon is pretty much agreed the reasons given were true (though reports differ on the crisis that made him steal a TARDIS and leg it). Not even Eric Saward tried to redo that, and believe me he redid everything else. But now the Doctor fled Gallifrey with Susan because apparently he was part of an ancient prophesy of a hybrid warrior? Seriously? Given the Doctor was destined to die twice before now, it seems ridiculous the legend suddenly appeals to him. And judging from past experience, the prophecy will be totally bloody irrelevent - remember the dark secret of the Doctor's name? Yeah, his name is intrinsically meaningless, it's just the password for a locked door. Tch. <br />
<br />
Hybrid? Seriously? Maybe it'll bring back Bessie as a Prius.<br />
<br />
Oh, and this was first episode of the Capaldi without the TARDIS interior. You'll need to know that one day (and for the record, the other NuWho eps are <em>Dalek, The Long Game, The Idiot's Lantern, The Satan Pit, Love & Monsters, Midnight, A Good Man Goes To War, The Lodger, A Town Called Mercy, Cold War </em>and <em>The Crimson Horror.)</em><br />
<em><br /></em>
Raahhh! DOUBLE THE FIST! *explosions*Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-72723952185031162082015-09-21T13:41:00.003+10:002015-09-21T13:41:31.448+10:00Time Lord - The Fanwank ApprenticishipSo, what did Sparacus Emperor of All Fish People (Well, Three Of Them) have to say about the ep?<br />
<br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i>There may be a ratings drop, but they'll be back. Even average Doctor Who
is preferable than that X factor bilge. I give it a 5/10. Average Nuwho fare. It
wasn't as bad as some of the other season openers. I liked the 'handmines' and
its good to see Skaro back and the Dalek city.</i></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i>
</i></span></span></span><div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i> </i></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i>
</i></span></span></span><div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i>However the plot was typically OTT and it felt like a cross between Star
Wars and a typical RTD era season finale. It seems to me that Moffat's Doctor
Who is getting more and more of the visual look of the Star Wars franchise every
season. Now Davros is a 'Dark Lord' apparently!</i></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i>
</i></span></span></span><div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i> </i></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i>
</i></span></span></span><div>
<div id="post_message_9153930">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i>Also, I seem to recall that in 'Remembrance of the
Daleks' Skaro was destroyed. I'm more than happy that it wasn't, but this isn't
explained. Also it wasn't explained how Davros survived his apparent death at
the end of his last appearance.</i></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i> </i></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<div id="post_message_9153975">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i>My biggest question is this. If the Doctor can just
travel back in time and kill Davros as a child to change the future then why
hasn't he done it before? He could in one small trip eliminate the Daleks
forever.</i></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i> </i></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><em>The biggest problem with the episode was, of course, depicted medieval
Britain as multi racial. Its BBC 'blind casting' gone mad. There were
indeed non-whites in medieval Britain but not in the proportions suggested
by that scene. The whole scene was ridiculous and the casting of the audience
was just one aspect of that. Mind you the whole scene was ridiculous. As if a
medieval audience would accept a tank and a man playing an electric guitar
without being freaked out. Ridiculous. It spoiled the whole episode. It was
ridiculous and displayed a complete lack of understanding of medieval history.
Those people would have been terrified. I hardly think that in 3 weeks an
audience of medieval people would get used to a man riding around on a modern
tank playing the electric guitar. He would have been killed by them as soon as
they no longer feared him.</em></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i> </i></span></span></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: orange;"><i>And as to these people saying I'm "just mad because Ben Chatham isn't
canon", that is untrue on both counts.</i></span></span></span></div>
</div>
</div>
<br />
In short, he liked it. At least in comparison to the last couple of years' output.<br />
<br />
And, in a disconcerting sychronicity, so did I.<br />
<br />
Because, while there was undoubtedly much to admire and appreciate from Capaldi's first year it sure as hell wasn't enjoyable. It wasn't fun (bar <i>Robot of Sherwood</i>) and showed us Dave Owen's ideal 90s idea of <i>Doctor Who </i>escheing wacky-hijacks through time and space for confronting what is rotten in the human soul. Cause family viewing likes that. After over a year where the only levity was Capaldi's hypocritical and stupid insults we at last have a story you might, you know, desire to watch. I mean, everyone agrees <i>Children of Earth </i>was perhaps the most awesome <i>Torchwood </i>ever got or ever would get, but it's hardly bright, life-affirming, LOL enjoyment is it? Frankly, if I want televisual art I will go and rent the fucking blue-ray, until then I'll stick with Gareth Roberts's statement that normal people prefer <i>Androids of Tara </i>to <i>The Keeper of Traken </i>anyday...<br />
<br />
But episode one, <i>The Magician's Apprentice </i>(why IS it called that? It's meaningless!), throws back the veil of grim darkness and bitter recrimination. Some, like Spara, have noted the distinct Jediverse vibe to events and I heartily endorse that - because instead of the pretentious misery of <i>Revenge of the Sith </i>we're getting the awesome adventure of <i>A New Hope</i>. It's all summed up by the new bad guy Colony Saff.<br />
<br />
Sounding like some bizarre yeast-infection ointment, Colony Saff is a villain designed specifically to make you go "Wow! Awesome!" He is basically the offspring of Emperor Palpatine and the Fendahl, a gestalt of snakes in a black hooded robe and an ugly mug. He has no back story, no motivation, and both the Doctor and Davros think he's a moron unworthy of contempt. The first ten minutes of the show if Saff gatecrashing old stomping grounds of NuWho - Dorium's space vegas, the Shadow Proclaimation, Karn and all that was missing was him slithering around the Powell Estate trying to look menacingly. Indeed, the fangasms of seeing Ood and Hath and Judoon and Shadow Architect (now with Afro of Proclamation) and Ohila covers up the fact we are getting the same exchange in ridiculously convolted montage.<br />
<br />
"Where is the Doctor?"<br />
"Fucked if we know."<br />
"Meh. Worth a shot."<br />
<br />
Then he pulls his one shtick by turning into a giant snake. And not a particularly impressive one. At least the Mara had fangs. This one looked like a swift rolled up newspaper would do him in. But that's it - there is a creepy guy who is actually made of snakes! That's all there is! He isn't a suicidally-depressed cyborg yearning for blissful oblivion, or an unknown quantity from another realm threatening to annihilate life as we know it (not that there's any reason to care). He's just a bad guy who tries to bully people and no one accepts him as a bully. Missy snaps one of his snakes' necks when she gets bored and Clara apparently does the same in one of those "meh, why leave it in?" edits.<br />
<br />
In short, we get a villain that doesn't make the Doctor look bad for once. If Saff had left corpses everywhere he went, it would be a reflection that the Doctor's pity-party was costing lives. But no, people are allowed to live. A happy ending - at least not one with the Doctor and Clara standing on a heap of corpses saying it could've been worse - is in the offering, even so. The Doctor doesn't even have to murder him in cold blood, or make huge and wild guesses about his nature that are not systematically broken down and proved to be wrong when innocents die because of it.<br />
<br />
In <i>Deep Breath, </i>the Doctor was granted a brand new life-cycle to travel the universe with his best friend. And he immediately turned off the lights in the TARDIS, sulked and repeatedly avoided people. Or planets. Or exploring. Just basically sat there in the dark wondering if he was a good man. Frankly, Danny Pink wasn't the only one wondering why Clara thought he was so awesome given he was such crappy company and they never went anywhere nice. Other Doctors you can imagine spending time aboard the TARDIS painting or reading or spring-cleaning or finding out exactly what that red button does? This Doctor occasionally lights some candles and does an equation on a blackboard.<br />
<br />
Lo, <i>Deep Breath </i>said, this is the REAL Doctor, not the cheeky friendly act he puts on to befriend people.<br />
<br />
Well, thought I, fuck you then. You're not just a prick I don't like, you've undermined respect for all the others. Instead of proving himself as the Doctor, Capaldi just said all the others were liars and if you don't like that then you are a shallow, feeble creature unworthy of his love. HE HAS A DEGREE!!!<br />
<br />
Compare the first scenes of the Doctor last year - drinking coffee and bullying a terrified woman he'd just kidnapped and left her brother to die, or deciding to destroy Clara's faith in Robin Hood, or sitting on the sidelines watching gazelles getting eaten to prove a point, or trying to ruin Clara's date, or telling her they're going to die and its her fault, or hurling abuse at a teenager he can't be bothered to remember, or bitching at Clara for showing more enthusiasm, or bitching that Clara is boring, or telling a little girl to piss off and stop bothering him...<br />
<br />
The first time we see the Doctor this year (prequels aside) he's dressed as a hippy cosplayer in Spike Thomson shades, shredding an electric guitar on a tank in a medieval fighting pit, convincing an entire society to start each sentence with a Michelangelo-style "Duuuuuuude!" before serenading his friends with a rock version of <i>Pretty Woman</i>.<br />
<br />
Compare and contrast people.<br />
<br />
Moffat said the "dark" season eight was there to lure Matt Smith for another year, but it seems this episode feels way more like a Eleventh Doctor rewrite. Maybe it's the time-filling clipshow of people in interesting story-worthy locales trying to find the Doctor, or his defeatist acceptance of a death sentence out of shame over betraying a small child, or even a half-arsed cliffhanger involving murdering the main cast. (I assume the sudden way all the exterminated regulars magically vanished in light was a deliberate gambit so no children would be upset - fricken hell, two of them were wearing vortex manipulators...)<br />
<br />
In comparison to last year, spoilers have been non existent. It makes me personally wonder if the massive security leak where scripts and episodes were released onto the internet was actually a carefully-orchestrated method to prevent culture shock to those who'd suffer it (personally, it worked on me to the point the finished product was comparitively upbeat and entertaining). Because, shit dude, Davros was in this! Julian Bleach's Davros - the uncontested best bit of the Season 4 finale - who managed to remain thoroughly, contemptuously insane even though he spent the whole episode dozing off into his fist. I had honestly no idea, and perhaps I should have - because I spent my first view of the episode basically going "WTF? WHAT THE JIGSAW-ASSEMBLING SWEET ONION CHUTNEY FUCK!" to appreciate the episode. Hell, I was doubtful there would even be Daleks in this one.<br />
<br />
Does this actually improve the experience, I ask myself? Having grown up well and truly spoilered over every classic story bar <i>The Space Museum </i>and <i>MindWarp </i>(for some reason), I always experienced <i>Doctor Who </i>as a kind of "you've read the book, now see the movie" which bled into my consciousness - I see the opening moments of <i>The War Games </i>as Jamie realizing that they've failed to take him home to Scotland, or knowing Drax's "replacement parts" were actually the Crown Jewels, or Vorg surprisingly not mentioning the Ice Warriors in his scope and so on. I settled in to watch <i>Frontier in Space</i>, knowing roughly what I was getting in for and appreciating the differences to my perceptions. I did the same thing with most of Eccleston's season, having seen screencaps of his last three stories but having no clue as to plot or dialogue or what was happening.<br />
<br />
This week, that covered approximately two minutes of the episode as Missy and Clara have tea in Spain or somewhere while Kate and Sassy Black Lady at UNIT HQ watch on in worry. Everything else was basically being beaten up by fangasm moments or stuff I appreciate (in particular the "could you kill that child?" soundbite which non-fans needed to know about the drammatic irony) but I found my brain struggling to keep up with what was happening? Was the cliffhanger a dream, a hallucination, a fakery? What the hell happened to Davros? Are they really going to kill him off? Why was Skaro invisible? Is it a fake or not? How come the Daleks know who the Doctor is? Why have we finally got "every Dalek ever" in a story that bluntly does not require it? Where did Colony Saff bugger off to?<br />
<br />
I know it's part one of two, but I personally hadn't had time to work out which was stuff I was expected to imagine (like how Missy survived) or what would happen next week (like the Doctor pulling the trigger). The "compassion is a weakness" argument also left me slightly bewildered at Davros' logic, since his actions weren't his own but a reaction to the Doctor. Quite simply, if Davros is killing people to make a point then whether or not he was shown compassion is meaningless! It's like running up to someone, smashing their kneecaps and then telling them that kneecaps are a weakness...<br />
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(And, to be honest, has the Doctor been that compassionate to Davros? He was willing to kill him the first time they met till Nyder knocked him out. While he did hesitate later, the Doctor DID blow up the bomb he'd attached to Davros. Again, the Fifth Doctor didn't actually get a chance to decide whether or not to kill Davros, he just prioritized his friends and would have returned to the lab if Davros hadn't locked the door. Sixie got no chance to do so on TV but on audio we now he blew up a ship Davros was on, let Mel Bush of all people crush him with Mechanoids (whereupon Davros showed compassion on <i>him!</i>). Seven blew up Skaro and Davros's ship again, then marooned him on a planet of ghosts. Eight destroyed Davros' personality and would have killed him if he'd had the chance. Frankly, only Ten ever showed compassion (bar the unspecified version that tried to save Davros in the time war and even then that was surely for strategic advantage)...)<br />
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And Missy again! I'm surprised yon Emperor hasn't complained at the entire ship-sinking phenomenon when Missy herself is disgusted at the idea she would have sex with the Doctor whatever genders they were (and thus the slash fic withers and dies), but Ms. Gomez easily conveys that she and the Doctor are wontoks, entirely on the same level and genuinely affectionate to each other now those damn drums aren't in the way. It's a feat that perhaps only Delgado and Simm evoked, as none of the others have ever showed that they enjoy the company of the Doctor. You can't argue with her that she's more likely to be the Doctor's closest friend than any companion, as Clara has barely known him for five years - it's like a guy choosing as best friends someone he chatted to on the way home.<br />
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Again, cut out the homicide and she's probably more Doctorish than the Doctor is, even this week. Missy dances through Daleks and paints them into a logical corner. The Doctor falls to his knees and begs for mercy. Missy is reasonably surprised to find herself on Skaro. The Doctor has a screaming fit. Missy bluntly threatens to kill Davros for causing this mess. The Doctor can barely look at him in shame. It feels more and more that, rather than the Pertwee years, we're actually going through a kind of Eric Saward renaissance of heartless bastards and social darwinism the Doctor isn't built to cope with but his enemies are. Of course, Moffat has an advantage that Saward doesn't in that Grand Moff Tarkin gives a flying fuck about finishing the story and bringing things to a conclusion.<br />
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So while Saward chickened out of the Doctor making the decision to kill Davros, Moffat confronts it head on and shows us him blowing the fucker's head off. Apparently. The visit to Davros' childhood doesn't quite perfectly synch with BF's vision (unless it was bring-your-kid-to-work-day on the Kaled lines and after this Davros' family kept him out of harm) but it's closer than RTD would have gone. Frankly, remembering what a homicidal maniac teenage Davros was means that while non-fans would no doubt gasp at the idea of murdering a child, us diehards are thinking the Doctor's practically acting in self-defense.<br />
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Handmines, though? I don't know whether I should scoff or demand they be digitally inserted into <i>Genesis of the Daleks</i>. Can you imagine Harry saving the Doctor from one of those? And did the other soldier say something that the clams are attacking? I honestly don't know, but it'd be awesome.<br />
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At long last, the Doctor actually treats events as if they matter to him enough to display emotion. He makes friends, he has fun, he will fight for those he cares about and people care about him.<br />
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In short, about freaking time.Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5075740671122268515.post-50982164079890327202015-09-12T13:37:00.000+10:002015-09-12T13:37:06.052+10:00The Time Lord 2.0 - Not Now, But Soon!<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>It's Septemeber 11th. Time for something jolly and life affirming... oh, wait.</i></span></span> </b><br />
<b>Dave: </b>Ah. A prologue.<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>Gracious, how could you possibly tell?<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Maybe it's the word "PROLOGUE" in large unfriendly letters.<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>I detest these web-only versions. You know it's going to end up some optional extra on a DVD, like those ones from <i>Asylum of the Daleks </i>or <i>The Snowmen </i>even though it'll be vital to the ongoing plot. I mean would it kill them to show these on TV?<br />
<b>Dave: </b>Tch. I'm amazed the whole thing isn't on iView like <i>Sammy J and Randy.</i><br />
<b>Nigel: </b>Did you watch that?<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>Yeah. The first one. Sort of like <i>Bottom </i>meets <i>Bogan Pride. </i>With puppets.<br />
<b>Dave: </b>In short, the bits without Sammy J were the best.<br />
<b>Nigel: </b>So he's consistent if nothing else.<br />
<b>Andrew: </b>I really liked Bogan Pride. Mind you, I'm a sucker for Rebel Wilson...<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i>The planet... Karn.</i></b></span></span><br />
<b>D: </b>And the drammatic pause was needed because...? <br />
<b>A: </b>Ah, obviously Karn can only appear in these special minisodes. <br />
<b>N: </b>So Kasteroborus is still there along with the other planets. Surprised the Doctor didn't spot that during his Chris Brown spousal abuse fit last year.<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><i>Ohila's still being a cow.</i></b></span></span><br />
<b>N: </b>The wimple look doesn't suit her. <br />
<b>D: </b>So we're saying the Sisterhood are righteous mystics instead of paranoid harridans? Really, why the Doctor would hang around these bitches escapes me. I'm surprised Ten didn't nuke it for his lap of honor - That's for Cass, bitches! And for inspiring <i>Vengeance of Morbius!</i><br />
<b>A: </b>"It saves time." And the first reused <i>Press Gang </i>joke of the year, people.<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i>Someone has summoned the Doctor. Doctor's not interested. Cryptic comments abound.</i></b></span></span><br />
<b>D: </b>So... they talking about the Master or Missy or Morbius or what?<br />
<b>A: </b>They spend a whole year creating this angry misery guts Doctor and now he's just a whiny bitch getting bullied by Mitchell's dollybird. Come on, McGann had more balls than you! Did you castrate yourself one afternoon when there was nothing on TV? Come on, man up!<br />
<b>N: </b>Hang on, does Ohila want him to do this or not?<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b><i>The Doctor's embarking on a suicide mission.</i></b></span></span><br />
<b>D:</b> Oh wow. Thrill. To be impressive then maybe you should have made a Doctor we'd care about dying. Who didn't have a full regeneration cycle ahead of him. At the start of a second series.<br />
<b>N: </b>Moff's not going to do another Lake Silencio bollocks is he? IT DIDN'T WORK! No one will care! No one gives a crap about ongoing story arcs! No one!<br />
<b>A: </b>Zactly. You could have got rid of all the Missy scenes last year and the two-parter would still have made sense. Just focus on individual stories for a change...<br />
<b>N: </b>Oh god, now they're quoting <i>Curse of Fatal Death! </i>Bullshit! I mean, he expects Ohila to become Time's Nagging Granny or something? Give me strength!<br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><i>The end.</i></b></span></span><br />
<b>D: </b>Is that it? I mean... what? That's actually made care LESS about watching the next episode.<br />
<b>N: </b>It wasn't two minutes and I was already bored!<br />
<b>D: </b>Ooh, another nebulous enemy to face which will end in death! Boring! Man, if he'd been telling Ohila to sacrifice herself instead, I'd have been interested.<br />
<b>A: </b>That wierd rock was the most fascinating part of the prologue.<br />
<b>N: </b>Boring. Epic fail. 0/0!<br />
<b>A: </b>Booo!<br />
<b>D: </b>When's the next series of <i>2 Broke Girls </i>starting?<br />
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<br />Youth of Australiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08509521019229324658noreply@blogger.com0