Compare and Contrast

Following my last post, I was surprised at the negative reaction to Ian Levine's animation. God, hadn't I apologized in advance for it? Didn't the constant references to Cosgrove Hall make it abundantly clear that no high expectations were required? In fairness to Blubberguts (a sentence rarely used by higher anthropoids) it was certainly no worse than the original Shada animation, Scream of the Shalka, The Infinite Quest or The Invasion with it's static head and shoulders lip-synching chic.

However, the truth is we expect a better standard of animation and - the endearing dodginess of The Ice Warriors aside - what we expect is what we've got for The Reign of Terror, The Tenth Planet and The Moonbase. With The Underwater Menace and The Web of Fear due to have the same fate, here's a reminder of what we were getting.

As a little subtextual gag, the musical accompanyment is Enya's Carribbean Blue (however you spell it) which is also the name of that audio drama thing I was doing. Remember that? Back when David Tennant was the Doctor? Ah, forget it. But when you do watch The Moonbase, I think you'll find the only way to understand what is happening is to believe that Hobson has been partially-brainwashed by a Cyberman and is deliberately ruining absolutely everything he is responsible for. Seriously. How a trained astronaut thinks a hull breach can be defeated with polyester and cotton... bloody hell, it goes beyond Garth Marenghi at times...

Ah, Shaddap!

Well, another month is nearly over and as my next birthday makes me reach for the razor blades I find myself watching Shada - specifically, Ian Levine's homemade animation of it. Now, I'm not going to be nice to Big Blubberguts Levine, a man who makes Larry Miles seem like a positive, friendly chap. Levine has done twice as much damage to Doctor Who as he ever did good for it, and doesn't even make a good villain when RTD is feeling pissed off with a bloke who publically insisted there was a completely different episode called Bad Wolf to the one that was shown, released on DVD and discussed at length by the author. His latest stunt - to accuse Phillip "I'm the bloke who found more Troughton episodes in a week than you did in thirty years, boy" Morris of hoarding episodes before offering up a mouldy, unwatchable copy of Enemy of the World Part Six - is enough to get people to throw live lobsters at him. His heckling and buying of JNT on his deathbed is beyond the pale, but when he did the same to Nick Courtney, it's no wonder Tom Baker wants nothing to do with him.

Now that vitriol is out of the way, onto this animation. Unsurprisingly, the CGI-artwork (in the Cosgrove Hall style of Scream of the Shalka and The Infinite Quest) is interspersed with the original material which is as understandable as it is exasperating. I mean, you can't really expect anything other than a jarring jolt when the Pugwash-esque Doctor and Chris disco-groove across a corridor before cutting to two actors flinging them across a set with more energy than a nervous Rowan Atkinson on speed. But it still clashes, as do a few other things. Chief of all the music, as Ian Levine shows the same criminal genius that got him repeatedly turned down as a composer - dubbing on creepy stock music from the 1960s without rhyme or reason. Now, your mileage might vary on whether prowling a Time Lord prison planet to the howls and drums of 1960s Vortis is a good thing, but it clashes terribly not only with the Dick-Mills-Dudley-Simpson impressions and also the other strings of Bartok as well.

Then there are the voices. Now, to be fair, the Tom Baker impersonator is quite good. Better than Jon Culshaw, certainly, and with more variety than the one-note Colin Baker and Paul McGann impressionists I've encountered but just because he really, really sounds like Tom Baker doesn't make him Tom Baker. The Fourth Doctor has never been more bored, glum and wooden than he is now. Douglas Adams' script, of course, takes the edge off. You could even roll with it... until the genuine article turns up.

As for the others, Levine's found a tame strangled cat to do Professor Chronotis - gargling squawks that are even worse than the concussed Spike Milligan character of the PMG version. Lalla Ward is professional, but clearly not enjoying herself or having to do Shada YET AGAIN (having done the original, the remake, the talking book and now this...), while John Leeson somehow phones in a performance as K9. Why Blubberguts didn't simply redub all the lines from the PMG remake, I dunno. Hill and Bergoine are adequate, but much is lost as they are no longer the excited newbie actors trying to make the most of television. The old lady who voices the ship voices the ship. Meh.

Most significant of all is Christopher Neame as Skagra. Now, Skagra was fascinating as a nearly voiceless protagonist who stalked Cambridge much like another mysterious whiteclad being would the next season finale. The original idea is for you not even to know who Skagra is, or even his name, for most of the story - with Romana's assumption he is, in fact, Salyavin himself supposed to be the running mystery for the first half of the story. He hardly speaks, he has his own empire waiting, he is not afraid or even interested in the Doctor. He's drawn in contrast with the other baddies of Season 17 by not rising to any bait, or even bothering to waste time giving bon mots. Until the final episode, everything he plans is achieved and even the spontaneous plot devices of Chronotis coming back from the dead, the Doctor being able to survive the sphere and a handy second TARDIS don't even slow Skagra down.

Animation does Skagra justice, with only a few cruel smirks to give him facial expression which is what the genuine actor did. Unfortunately, giving the bland insolent tone of his TV performance in the dull animation would achieve a zen level of tedium.

So, Christopher Neame decides to go fucking apeshit. He screams and yodels and spits every syllable, giving the impression he recorded the dialogue while in a straightjacket without his meds. Graham Crowden would run away screaming from this guy, while even Roger Lloyd Pack and Richard Briers (thankfully, both reduced to compost to match their respective acting skills) would boggle. Skara IS Iggy Pop off his face. It's like all these years of waiting to finish the story have driven him insane. Jim Moriarty wouldn't match his performance for more than a few seconds. Richard E Grant wouldn't even try.

Still, now Big Finish have got Tom Baker and Lalla Ward together - an act which by it's very definition earns Eternal Man of Fist - maybe they'll finally finish this all together.

But if - in the unlikely, laughable event this stolen, plagiarised, unauthorized, unofficial and morally dubious animation was inflicted on, er, released to the general public, then by my reckoning that this would join The Reign of Terror, The Tenth Planet, The Underwater Menace, The Moonbase, The Ice Warriors and The Invasion. Which means that there would only be eight Hartnell and nine point five Troughton stories missing.

Which, when you think about it, is a much more managable number of lost stories.


In the meantime, don't tell them you're a pacifist...

B7: 2B or not 2B?

And back to B7. Gosh it's been, what, almost a year exactly since I last reviewed. So, what have we missed?

Well, that anthology of stories that somehow failed to include either Jared Hansen, Miles Ried-Lobatto or myself and thus is obviously not even worth cutting into squares for your toilet paper.

The Armageddon Storm - Del Grant, still known as the only human being in the entire universe that scares Avon, is back. He's found out that the Federation have built a WMD that can destroy whole worlds and is cunningly named in the title. With the surprisingly-mute assistance of Tarrant and Dayna, Cally and Vila rush to the planet about to be nuked while Grant and Avon smash up the lab. Avon gets wounded and, thinking he's going to die, blabs out the plot of Rumors of Death. Like those two priests who came out on the plane in Father Ted, it's supremely awkward when both survive. Grant, it transpires, isn't that fussed. Avon is unable to stop the innocent planet being nuked but does a V-style broadcast where he says he ALSO has the WMD and if the Federation ever, ever, under any circumstances, use it again, he will destroy Earth in instant reprisals. While this means the Feds will not use the Armageddon Storm, it doesn't exactly improve Avon's reputation with the rest of the universe. And Grant is still hanging around at the end of the episode, so maybe they want to make him a regular or something?

Promises - turns out Cally didn't survive Saurian Major by virtue of being an alien. She found the traitor to the rebels putting on a gasmask, killed her and stole said gasmask. But it turns out the traitor was actually long-time girlfriend to Travis, and Cally goes all fangirl and assumes Travis is some generic Richard Armitage troubled soul who can be redeemed by the love of a good woman. Travis laughs in her face before trying to put a cap in it, and even though Stephen Grief has been ODing on Keith Allan tablets, the message is clear. Like Davros, Travis was always a fuckwit no matter how normal he looked or how much sex he was getting.

Epitaph - um, this totally faded from my memory. Vila and Jenna meet Jenna's brother, who is a corrupt asshole. Who then dies for some reason. Um... nope. Got nothing.

Kerr - Servalan clones Avon to use the clone as her evil badass dragon enforcer. Unfortunately, Avon the clone really has issues with the whole business and hilarity - and widespread slaughter - ensue. She shouldn't have decided to call him Kerr, since it sounds like "cur" and really pisses Avon off.

Logic - Avon and Jenna track down an average dome dweller played by Louise Jameson who works in the computer business and unwittingly is aiding the Federation make life shit for rebels. Or is she unwitting? Is she a traitor? A sleeper agent? Stark staring mad? After a while you just stop caring and when Servalan has her killed, I'm just glad this episode is over.

Risk Management - Jenna and Blake go on a honeymoon or something. Never bothered to listen.

Three - a journo gets an exclusive interview with Servalan. No jokes, this scared the shit out of me as we wait for Servalan to go "Ah, but now you know too much, you must die!" but she comes up with even worse stuff than that. The way it dwells on how little we know about Servalan, and her being pure evil, I got the distinct impression the twist was Servalan was some eternal manifestation of supernatural nastiness like that random old grannie in Whitechapel. But that would probably make the final twist less horrifying.

Incentive - what seems to be a "routine" undercover spy mission to collect Blake and Jenna leaves Avon and Tarrant captured, strapped to lie detectors and mocked by a psychostrategist. The realization that trying to rescue the others means obvious traps is an excuse for our heroes to avoid reclaiming B and J, but the story bluntly states there are other, less wholesome reasons for leaving them to rot. Possibly my favorite bit is Avon getting zapped every time he insists he doesn't give a flying fuck about anyone - except Tarrant, because, seriously. Pacey really portrays the curly-haired twat bully as he should.

Jenna's Story - Jenna tries to enlist the help of a warlord landowner on Gauda Prime, explaining all the whacky adventures she'd had on the way. Unfortunately, the warlord is a complete tool and they end up trapped in a flyer about to be nuked in a blockade. Does Jenna have one last trick up her sleeve? No idea, but I double-took something chronic when Jenna outlined the GP plan exactly as I came up with...

Blake's Story - around a camp fire, Blake passes the time by talking to an imaginary Avon, which explains why he dealt so badly with the real thing. Anyway, Blake tried to get back to the Liberator but seemed cursed - everywhere he went, his allies were slaughtered until everyone thought he was a traitor. Turned out, he WAS! Just after the War, they implanted a spycam in his eye that they've been spying on ever since. Although Blake hacks out his own eye and fakes his death, the rebellion don't want a liability - but Jenna's got a scam going on Gauda Prime that should turn things round... once the REAL Avon shows up...

Fractures

"I had a lot of time to think while I was trapped behind that bulkhead - and I realized that nothing's changed since we first met, since we first came on board Liberator..."


And lo, Big Finish have started doing regular B7 stories. I refrain from saying "about bloody time" because it's quite clearly very difficult to get an ensemble cast together on this regular basis - and the availability has clearly shaped what stories to do. With David Jackson dead, all pre-Pressure Point stories are out and with Josette Simon and Glynis Barber distinctive by their refusal to appear in BF under any circumstances, it seems all post-Warship stories are out as well. Me? I say get Angela Bruce and Paula Wilcox back from the BBC audios, as their acting was never the issue (Barry Letts writing for Leela and Jo Grant instead of Dayna and Soolin was the problem, I think we all agree).

BF have delighted in telescoping out Doctor Who seasons - we have Seasons 14B and 14C with more Leela, or a farewell tour for the First Romana in Season 16B, while Nyssa has surely dominated the alphabet twice over. And I'm not even mentioning the Companion Chronicles, which have given more stories to Hartnell's third year that some televised Doctors ever got. Quite simply, the Moat Studios gang (are they even at Moat Studios? Did I just make that up for parody guides?) like gaps, and they love widening them which gives a slight subtext to this episode where the villain does that as well.

I get ahead of myself, but not quite as bad as Steven Moffat does.

So... Season 2B of Blake's 7 kicks off after Voices from the Past (if episodes were people, VFTP is the one you'd awkwardly pat on the shoulder and say "Good on you for trying" before seeing what crazy stuff Gambit was up to before going into a back alley and beating up Animals and Hostage for what they did to your sister.) Like many an episode, it ended on a witty liner from Avon rather than a dramatic resolution.

This seems to be why the story opens with Liberator en route to asteroid PK118 (my dad insists this asteroid is named after a former Prime Minister and lists his blood alcohol level, but I digress) presumably to check on those other rebels living there, who must have been genuine exiles to help with the crazy mummy-from-the-tomb plan. But, alas, a flock of pursuit ships is waiting, lead by none other than Travis. Brian Croucher makes only a cameo this week, and to be honest seems to be high on horse tranquilizers. He can't even finish his death threats and you can imagine him just blowing Blake a raspberry and giggling as his mutoids look on in total embarrassment.

As is traditional in this era, Blake spends precious moments trying to work out if Travis is still a Federation officer or a wanted fugitive (coz fuck knows the writers were confused) before Jenna announces she is completely bloody sick of this and does an epic chicken run that leaves lots of exploded pursuit ships. So awesome is Jenna that Travis' GPS shits itself and flies the pursuit ship out of danger. Travis is annoyed by this, then he starts blowing saliva bubbles and giggling. Well. That's very much the vibe I get, anyway.

Down to the plot. The Liberator has been struck by a plasma bolt and, brakes failing, must drift through... THE DERELICT ZONE! It's like the Bermuda Triangle, only less interesting; a patch of space full of derelict spaceships that have broken down for no apparent reason. The Federation, practical as ever, simply tell people not to go in there and the problem is solved. As the Liberator drifts through the ships, Blake gets an attack of chronic hero syndrome and sends out a message asking if there are any survivors. Eventually, even he accepts that there aren't any - which is a big mistake.

Suddenly, the lights on the Liberator start to go out. The doors start to jam, isolating the crew. And then the creepy shit starts to happen. Vila gets a call from Blake, telling him of a secret passage into the engine room but when Vila uses it he nearly falls to his death until Cally saves him. Was Blake trying to kill him? Or has Vila finally gone mad? Vila then gets a call from Avon saying that the passage wasn't a death trap and Cally was setting him up to get his trust. He also says that there isn't a power failure - Zen has been clearly ordered to shut down the power by Blake. Orac, meanwhile, is wishing for hands so he could facepalm that his users need to have the word "deliberate" defined as "on purpose".

But is it really Blake doing this, no doubt as a result from his brainwashing in the previous episode? Blake gets a call from Avon telling him that he's being framed by Jenna. Then Vila gets a call from Jenna saying she's being hunted by a spanner-wielding psycho Blake (this is actually quite a distressing scene, no joke). When Cally calls Jenna, she says she never called Vila, who must clearly be insane. Avon then calls Vila and Cally and tells them someone has turned off the life support. Is it crazy Vila? Or has Cally joined crazy Blake? Vila then calls Blake and Jenna separately, telling each other the other has gone mad and turned off the life support and they must kill them to stop it...

So, these Farscape style shinnanigans have probably clued you in to what's going on and when Avon finally reveals he's been locked in a cupboard all episode, the truth is obvious. Quite clearly the shape-changing emotion-vampire polymorph from the Derelict Zone (and also obviously responsible for self-same) has boarded the Liberator and is impersonating the crew to turn them against each other, generating the negative emotions it can feed off.

The real crew gather to face the polymorph, who is not fussed at being discovered as it dubs our heroes the most dysfunctional paranoid loonbags it has ever met and they'll start blaming each other for getting into this mess any minute and it will drain them dry. Blake retorts that they are not the one-note obsessives that Alan Stevens loves to write essays about, they are actually surprisingly-well-adjusted best friends who care about each other and god dammit they are true, Joss Whedonesque nakamic true companions!

Except Avon, of course, who shoots the polymorph in its face and kills it instantly.

Well, with this week's well-executed-if-generic sci-fi concept resolved, Avon announced there is a new story arc. Apparently, the Federation have built their own version of Orac that can track down the real Orac and thus lead the Federation right to the Liberator (me: okaaaaaaaaay....). As such, the whole Star One plot must be abandoned until such time as this new plotbunny is resolved! BOOYAH!

Seriously, it is as random as it sounds. Just as everyone is going "Phew, that was close!" Avon suddenly reads a prepared press statement from the script editor. Not even a "see, that was how Travis was able to ambush us" or any kind of retcon for WTF happened with Shivan from the the Mummy's tomb. Apparently he asked Orac about it earlier - as Vila says, "That'll be a festival of wit and repartee..." - and is relaying the answer. OK...

Oh, and how the hell did the polymorph get aboard? It apparently used the teleport... but how? It didn't have a bracelet and even though it could (and apparently did) use Blake's voice to ask for teleport, no one was on duty. So who teleported this thing across? And how? And that bit where it appears to be impersonating Avon, Blake and Jenna at the same time and laughing evilly to itself... um...

I have to admit I was a tad disappointed with this episode, which performed the cardinal B7 sin of being unable to make its mind up if it was a Federation episode, an Outer Space episode, or both as well as having some very awkward story-arc bolting. I dunno if there's a specific Star Trek episode with this plot, but there's definitely a Red Dwarf one and Farscape at least had the guts to do more than have its characters yelp "you're all against me!" and have some gratuitous violence and shootings.

Oh, and clearly Vila has caught the mental clap he also has in Ultraworld - in this he spends half the story unable to count his own fingers BECAUSE HE'S A COMPLETE MORON WHO NEEDS A CRASHHELMET TO GO TO THE TOILET AND EVERYONE MAKES FUN OF HIM! Literally, Avon and Cally take precious time to mock him for considering his "thumb" counts as a "finger" and in the middle of a pursuit ship battle, Vila runs up to Blake squeeing that he can count up to five.

...

On the other hand, he does save the day by reversing the polarity of the neutron flow.

So, yeah. While this is no Warship, Fractures definitely brings more to the table, and has more hard work from a writing point of view, than Hostage - mind you, that's not difficult to do, is it?

7/10

BLAKE: Can't it wait?
ZEN: Danger of propulsion overload if repairs are deferred.
CALLY: What does that mean?
AVON: You want the long answer or the short one?
VILA: The short one.
AVON: Bang.
VILA: Great. And the long one?
AVON: Bang. We're dead.
VILA: [sighs] I'm glad I asked...

The Goacher Transfer

I'm idling at the moment after two days of playing with my neice who is so awesome I wish some River-Song style timey-wimey thing meant I'd known her when I was her age. So while I wait for the penny to drop and her realize she's left her tablet here and muse over her impressions of DW (she knows without any prompting of any kind that the writer of Revelation of the Daleks is a miserable toad who hated Colin Baker despite his clear awesomeness) I thought I might as well pad out the blog with some of spara's quotes.

Despite being totally deserted by every single one of his supporters by their own choice, his forum gathering dust and not having caused a flamewar on Gallifrey Base for two years straight, the corpse of the Emperor continues to twitch pointlessly like a born-again Christian forced to watch Threads on youtube. The guy just won't give up, and I think it's down to the fact his own doublespeak now renders anything he says total gibberish that no one can actually understand, let alone be offended by. No one even bothers to quote his posts and ask if there's anyone who looks after him and makes sure he takes his medication any more.

So, I've descided to translate his hopes for NuWho 2014 (AKA Chatham-Free for 50 Years and Counting!) into modern Australian so we can realize just what he's trying to say.


The Moffat era is probably the worst ever Doctor Who era bar the first two Andrew Cartmel seasons.

TRANSLATION: I've been doing this for nine years but no one's biting any more.

Right from the childish 'The Eleventh Hour' its progressed to convoluted boring plots, the dreary Ponds/Riversong saga and awful Xmas specials. The dialogue is delivered in clipped one liners in order to appeal to the gadfly brigade with no concentration beyond 2 seconds, yet the plots are too convoluted for these people.

TRANSLATION: I hate everyone.

Some say it is an elitist attitude that anyone who likes an era of Doctor Who that I don't like, I label others lesser than myself. This argument is basically relativism ie it is propogating the view that all eras/ styles/ art is equally valid because its 'all subjective' etc.

TRANSLATION: For some reason, no one agrees with me any more. Not even for a laugh.

This viewpoint is wrong because the end result of this line of thinking is that Mills & Boon novels are as valid as Charlotte Bronte. It negates any notion of quality.

TRANSLATION: I met a woman once. She didn't like absinthe.

Serious literature is better and more fulfilling than cheap pulp.

TRANSLATION: I tried wanking in iambic pentameter, but got whiplash.

Even within popular culture it is possible to judge differences in quality. Some would dismiss all pop/rock music as cheap trash (as opposed to classical). Yet within popular music it is still clear that artists such as Bob Dylan are in a higher quality league than Peter Andre.

TRANSLATION: I did not mention Bowie. I am luring you into a trap. Hahahahah.

I have no idea who these Moffat fans are however almost everything they say is complete horse manure.

TRANSLATION: Cunting fucking shit bollocking fuck-flappy cunt.

Moffat has no understanding of Doctor Who.

TRANSLATION: All those scenes of Matt Smith spitting out wine make me feel... like... you know... not good about me drinking buckets of absinthe every night. HOW VERY DARE YOU! I HAVE A DEGREE!

Season 18 had its faults however it was season 17 that was the nadir which he completely ignores.

TRANSLATION: Hang on, wait, I forget. Did Cartmel write Creature from the Pit? I'm actually quite confused now. I need another drink.

'The Trial of a Time Lord' was dire.

TRANSLATION: I deny all claims I was spontaneously aroused by Vervoids.

Things need to be changed if Doctor Who is to survive.

TRANSLATION: I will now repeat the exact same thing I have said for nine years until you fuckers finally crumble and admit defeat.

1) A new logo and theme are required. Something more in the spirit of the original ie strange, unnerving and based on minimalist electronica. Rather than loud, bombastic, orchestral and pitched squarely at the massed ranks of the dim.

TRANSLATION: I want Bowie to write the theme tune, sing the theme tune and make the time vortex resemble Adam Rickitt being anally raped by Ziggy Stardust.

2) The show needs the removal of the convoluted self-indulgence, silly comedy and easy resolutions and instead more serious drama, innovative characters and horror elements.

TRANSLATION: I want Ben Chatham watching as schoolgirls have their throats slit by yellow peril characters. I can't achieve orgasm otherwise, I really can't.

3) Doctor Who is incomprehemnsive to new or casual consumers and might as well be Sherlock for all that matters. Modern Sherlock is worse than Doctor Who for its trashing of a classic character who has been turned from a Victorian gentleman into some 21 century amoral character and Dr Watson into an overgrown boy.

TRANSLATION: Why won't Martin Freeman let anyone give him a bukkake facial? Is he Jewish or something?

4) No more Sontaran stories. Nuwho ones have ruined the concept. I hate to think what Robert Holmes would make their unwelcome camp comedy.

TRANSLATION: I haven't watched anything Sontaran-oriented bar "The Sontaran Experiment" and even during that I was massaging warm honey into the larger of my testicles during the torture scenes. Nothing in 21st century Who has done that for me. I just want to feel happy again. That's all.

5) No more dialogue being drowned out by Gold's hyped-up noise. They think that the kids only want loud noise, constant running around and shouty brief dialogue.

TRANSLATION: Rik Mayall said "the kids" a lot and was taken seriously. By scientific process, I should get a better reaction as well. I bet this will really boost my standing with punks and skins and rastas, for I am the People's Poster! The hero of a generation! Executive showrunners turn to me for inspiration! WATCH OUT, NORMAN TEBBIT!

6) Peter Capaldi must not simply ape Matt Smith's performance in every way shape and form

TRANSLATION: I bet he's straight like all the others. Fucking heterosexuals.

7) Bringing back K9 would be unoriginal. A talking space cat called Sebastian would be preferable.

TRANSLATION: My hovercraft is full of eels.

8) Moffat must be fired for what he did to Christopher Eccleston.

TRANSLATION: Why won't you fucking pay attention to me?!?!

Eccleston's demands to change the director halfway through production may have been rather cheeky however Moffat needed to balance this against the interest and appeal that would have been generated by having Eccleston back.
TRANSLATION: Tom Baker sucks. John Hurt sucks. David Tennant sucks.

Also the directors Moffat uses in are pretty useless so the episode would hardly have lost anything.

TRANSLATION: Remember Torchwood with all the naked men? I really liked that.

The directors create the visual look and style of episodes because they control how the script is filmed.

TRANSLATION: I checked the online dictionary and everything.

Which in the Moffat era seems to involve telling the actors to shout their dialogue while running around.

TRANSLATION: I wrote Adric come back as a psycho-sex-slave of Fu Manchu and then raped unconscious by Ben Chatham. How come I get away with that but Paul Margrs was nigh-on crucified? Why doesn't anyone care any more?

It would have been worth a bit of inconvenience to have had Eccleston in the episode.

TRANSLATION: As long as none of the inconvenience affected me personally, of course.

Moffat put his own ego first.

TRANSLATION: I wish I was Moffat. My ego always gets the back seat.

*tumbleweed rolls by*

TRANSLATION: When I'm dead, you'll all be sorry then, yeah, won't you?!