Friday, 3 May 2013

Dr Who: "Lost and Found" (A Script)





Dr Who: “Lost and Found”
The Tardis is badly in need of repairs and lands on a ‘lost property’ planet the Dr well remembers from his youth. Along the way he and Clara meets two shadowy figures from his Gallifreyan past, encounters some new latin-speaking aliens and lots of old monsters...

Dear all, in lieu of an introduction this week, I've been challenged by one of my readers to write a 'full-length' (does he know how long those scripts are?!!!) script for a Dr Who episode, after outl;ining so many of them in our AAA April Fool's series. It goes without saying that I don't own the copyright on Dr Who, Clara, The Tardis or any number of the creatures in this script, but I do at least own copyright on the Belobrats and Clandusprods! I've written it in script form because my ;descriptive' text does tend to go on a bit and all the AAA stars will have released new albums by the time I finish if I'm not careful... You might notice too that Matt Smith's Dr ends up sounding a lot like David Tennant's Dr by about ther second page. Imagine him in an alternative universe instead if you prefer! If enough of you like it I have a few sequels in mind...Don't worry, though, this won't turn into a Dr Who site, there's lots of music on the way too (p.s. There had to be a music refrence in there somewhere - di any of you spot the title is lifted from a Kinks song?!)...



(SCENE 1). The Tardis lands on a desolate landscape, that looks not unlike an Earth rubbish tip full of old tyres, old televisions and broken down cars, only this being an alien planet everything is slightly futuristic and shinier. The Tardis wheezes to a stop with more difficulty than normal and the blue lights at the top of the Tardis flash blue twice slowly and then turn off. There is an eerie silence. Then the Tardis door opens and the Dr sticks his head out of the door, while smoke billowing out the back of the machine.
DR: Phew, I think we got here just in time! Well, I say time – of course time is relative. To everything. At every time. Except, I would think, when your ship is on fire, when actions always speak louder than theorising!
Clara walks out armed with a fire extinguisher. Turning round she aims it at the door and squirts.
Clara: You know, travelling with you reminds me a lot of travelling on public transport. You never get where you actually need to go – and you certainly never get there on time – and you take your life into your hands every time you travel.
Dr: Yeah, but it’s the most exciting way to fly isn’t it? Think of all the new and interesting people you meet! (beat, while he beams at her – she’s not too impressed)
Clara: So remind me, why are we here again?
Dr: The Tardis’ 100 year service, on the great lost property planet of the sky. Wonder where that missing sock got to? It’s probably here somewhere, having fallen through a sudden temporal fabric in space and time. There’s a whole mountain made up of loose change over there from every currency of every planet of every time zone ever known. And a rubbish dump full of pen-lids just waiting to be used again. I might even find a few things I’d forgotten about here too. Only place for a proper service to get parts for a fine old machine like mine.
(Clara coughs from the smoke. The Dr worriedly looks back at the Tardis).
Must confess I’ve left it a bit longer than I meant to. You know how it is – you’re busy, there’s things to do, meetings to attend, forms to fill out, phone calls to make, dalek hordes to stop, giant alien ants on the rampage, giant green cactuses wanting to take over the world. Somehow I never got the time to do anything about it. I’ll tell you something though
(the doctor pats the Tardis door)
She’s never let me down like this before. A few fluxions in the corporal time relay devices, sure, and the dio-relay thermometer hub pressure’s been a gonner for a few thousand years, not forgetting the incident when I nearly wiped out all of humanity with the backup warp drives, but other than that she’s been a beauty. And still going strong – even if I am a bit late for her service. It’s almost as if something caused her to misfire just when we were in the vicinity of this old planet...
Clara: And how late is ‘late’ exactly?
Dr: Oooh, 1000 years – give or take. I knew the place to land, mind, Professor Fix-It Fortescue. I used to go there a lot with my dad when I was a mere boy of 80. He did repairs a lot cheaper than the official Gallifreyan repairers and a lot quicker too, being an ‘eternal’ teenager and everything, though he’s probably a mite bit older now. Well, I always hated all that waiting around without your transport when there’s better places to be, don’t you?
Clara: I get the impressions it’s (pause as she tries not to hurt the doctor’s feelings) seen better days since your time, though.
Dr: Yes. I don’t remember that for instance!
(The pair walk forward and the camera follows them as they turn round. There’s a giant hole set into the floor, like one of the craters on the surface of the moon. Off to the left hand side of it is another giant pile of rubble and rubbish. Over to the right is a tiny fallen-down shack that looks tiny compared to everything else.
(SCENE 2) Out in the dust, unseen by the DR and Clara, a CLANDUSPROD shuffles past. It’s a cross between a hairless Chihuahua and a whippet, but with eight legs that look like a spider’s yet move robotically. It also has crab-like claws. (Think Quarks crossed with Macra crabs if you happen to be enough of a fan to know about these things). It crosses to a pile of rubbish and the lights on the screen light up blue, like it has a cheery face.
C1: PROCESSING! OWNER FOUND!
Suddenly a tyre disappears. The Clandusprod picks out another piece of rubble.
C1: PROCESSING!
Only this time the screen turns red with an angry face.
C2: OWNER NOT FOUND! DEVESTATION IN PROGRESS!
The second ‘tyre’ is ‘stretched’ to breaking point. Rather than vanish like the first ‘tyre’ it seems to have been totally destroyed.
The clandusprod turns back to a blue ‘happy’ face.
(SCENE 3)
Close-up of the shack. It has a sign on the door. It says ‘out to lunch – be back soon. Well, ish. It depends what the menu is. And if I have a pudding.’
The Dr and Clara walk through the door. An elderly man – not unlike the first Dr in Edwardian cloak and with long white hair - is sat at a desk, although he his face is young and childlike, quite unlike the rest of his body).
FF: Ah, young, err, err, don’t tell me I never forget a customer... Doctor!, I do believe it’s you!
Dr: Young, huh! It’s been a long time since anyone’s called me that!
FF: Oh don’t be silly, you must still be middle-aged. For a timelord I mean. We eternals never did get the hang of age very well. I haven’t seen you in centuries! I won’t be a minute, I’ll just look up your order number for you – well, maybe I’ll be one or two minutes... (FF looks down at his ledger. It’s remarkably ancient looking and has the years 1-111111111111111 written on the front, with each ‘1’ crossed out and replaced by another with a different coloured pen).
Clara (whispering, to Dr): Eternal?
Dr: Oh, they live a very long time, in a galaxy far far away as you humans would put it. I met them once when I was younger and blonder and walker around wearing vegetables on my coat. Middle aged crisis you’d call it now. Anyway, sailing ships in space. It was great fun!
Clara (puzzled): Sounds it!
FF: Sorry to keep you, I well remember what an impatient boy you used to be. Well, younger timelord shall we say. And you’ve changed faces! It suits you!
Dr: Thankyou!
Clara (as if to herself): I’m not sure about the chin myself!
FF: Well, what can I do for you?
Dr: Oh, the usual. Bit of a service. Had the old girl a while, you know, been meaning to do something with her for quite a time. (looking nervous) She might be getting on a bit compared to the machines you’re used to.
FF: And the vehicle is?...
Dr: A Tardis, yes. Look, I know what you’re thinking, time wars and everything, no more Tardises around. But I know you. (brightly) You’ve got parts for everything here. (FF looks doubtful). Somewhere.
FF: Time wars?
Dr: Yes, lots of planets destroyed. All of Gallifrey burnt – well so we thought at the time. All of the Daleks dead too – well for the time being, they came back again later, long story, won’t bore you with it. Surely you’ve heard? It was on the news and everything.
FF: (looking blank). Which news?
Dr: Every news! It was quite a big event you know! It affected everyone!
(FF Shrugs).
FF: Not here. Hardly any news reaches us in this end of the spiral galaxy. I don’t care for it much anyway. By the time you get to my age world events seem to go round in cycles anyway...what model is she?
Dr: Err, I don’t know! Type 40 I think? It was a long time ago!
FF: And the vehicle number?
Dr (looking helpless): Err...
FF: You must have had to have had her registered to have been given her, Doctor. I know it was a long time ago for you but, honestly, it was the blink of an eye as far as the universe was concerned.
Dr: Erm...
FF (sighs): You’re still the same, Dr, no interest in the practical side of life! All that talk you used to have about wanting to travel. Do you still get to do much of that?
Dr: Well, yes. I do quite a bit of travelling. Look, come outside with me and I’ll show you what I have.
(The pair walk out arm in arm with a bemused Clara following behind. In the distance...
Dr: You might even be able to fix the chameleon circuit for me while you’re at it...it would be nice to have her blending into the background again!
(Only Clara doesn’t get this far. A sudden shadow out of the corner of her surprises her and makes her turn round. It’s a Clandusprod that’s fallen over. Clara is alarmed at first but, when nothing happens after a split-second, she goes towards it).
Clara: And what’s your name, little feller? (beat. There’s no answer). One of these days I’m actually going to have a decent conversation with an alien species. (she looks towards the DR and FF. The DR seems to be showing off his bowtie). And that includes my travelling companion.
C2: PROCESSING!
Clara (in alarm!): Alright! Steady on!
C2: PROCESSING! (She picks it up and randomly starts pressing buttons).
C2: PROCESSING!
Clara: I never could understand technology. I had a digital watch for seven years, never knew how to set the alarm!
C2: OWNER NOT FOUND! DEVESTATION IN PROGRESS!
(A ray comes out of the Clandusprod. Clara disappears, stretched in time like the second ‘tyre’. The clandusprod turns back to a blue ‘happy’ face).
(Scene 4).
FF (holding a package): Here’s that robot companion you always wanted, bit obsolete now but will still do you the world of good travelling round in that old thing.
Dr: Ah, a K1 dog! I forgot I ordered one of these! They never did quite get the pun in the name right in this century!
FF: Almost as obsolete as your time machine. You mean you actually still travel in one of these? Why, I haven’t seen a mark 40 time travelling vessel ever, except in the Morok’s space museum of course! And believe you-me, Dr, I’ve been around a very long time as you well know. It must have been really antique in your day when you started travelling! However did you afford it?
Dr (edgily): Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, we’ll discuss all that later.
FF: Interesting design too. I used to see lots of these machines dressed up to look like all sorts of things, but I’ve never seen one like a blue box before!
Dr: It’s an old Earth device, got stuck like that, another long story I’ll tell you in an intergalactic e-card one day. What I want to know is – can you fix her?
FF: What exactly is the problem? Do you know?
Dr: Well, at first I thought it was the fluid link again, but no – it’s only been 800 years since that got replaced during a bit of an eventful day on Skaro. So, I’ve re-calibrated the engines, made a data-file backup of all the systems using the positronic hub relay, turned it all off and back on again and I’ve even ejected the rogue Sontaron I found to be still wandering aimlessly around one of the Tardis backrooms looking for me, and yet it’s still not working.
FF: So you haven’t a clue, then? (the DR starts to look his usual indignant self, but realises who he’s talking to and turns into a sulky young boy). Well, you were always were one for bluffing your way around things you didn’t know, Dr.
Dr: Parts, though, you must have parts for it here, somewhere, of all places?
(The camera pans to the sheer scale of the rubbish, which is piled up in mountains and looks not unlike the huge sea of books in ‘Silence At The Library’).
FF: Hmm, maybe one or two. I’ll take a look. It is unlocked I take it?
Dr: Who’d want to steal anything here, on a broken down old planet? And it’s looking more broken down with age I might add!
FF: (Sighs) And to think I always said you’d grow out of that cheekyness by the time of your second incarnation and here you are on your 11th. Seems like yesterday...
(Scene 5).
Clara is in a very dark, very shadowy, small room filled with boxes of all sorts of rubbish and junk. A dalek eyestalk, cyberman helmet, ice warrior armour and what looks like a weeping angel are all randomly strewn around the room. Clara is visibly frightened at first but slowly begins to calm down, breathing more deeply and taking everything in.
Clara: Alright, nobody’s hurt me – yet. There’s no weapons pointing at me about to zap, no soldiers waiting to arrest me, it doesn’t look like a prison cell and my hairdo is still unruffled. This is actually looking like a plus compared to most days with the Dr! Wonder where I am, though...
(She gets up to look around, but – a little unsteady on her feet – suddenly loses her balance and knocks one pile of items, which suddenly knock into another pile, and another pile, and another pile, all with sudden unexpected speed and a whole calamity of noise. The sound reverberates around the echoey room.
Clara: Oops!
Suddenly sirens sound, an unseen light on the wall glows dark green and after a beat of a few seconds two aliens storm into the room via a hidden door. These are Belobrats, tall and thin alien beings with what looks like magnifying glasses for heads, big and round and with two seeing eyes sticking out from two slots in what is clearly a piece of armour.
B2: Aha! So this must be one of the perpetrators, caught at last!
B1: Devastation gun set to it’s highest settings, sir!
(Scene 6)
The Dr is pacing up and down the floor, visibly anxious. FF is lying inside the Tardis with his feet sticking out, mumbling to himself and randomly throwing parts of the interior outside onto a pile. Recently discarded are the 4th Dr’s scarf, the 2nd Dr’s recorder and the 6th Dr’s bright-coloured waistcoat.
The Dr stops pacing and walks up to tap FF on the shoulder. He’s obviously done this before. Lots of times.
Dr: Well?!
FF wearily pulls his head out of the Tardis and sighs.
FF: I’d get on quicker if you didn’t keep interrupting me.
(FF turns back and sticks his head back into the Tardis. Non-plussed the Dr shouts over his shoulder).
Dr: Well, you don’t know what it’s like sat here waiting for your vehicle to be ready. I’ve got place to go, planets to visit...Do you know, right now, the seventeen volcanoes of Maggrumph are probably erupting as we speak? They only do that once every 10,000 years and I’m missing it!
FF (Mumbled): Time is relative, as I always told you – and this is a time machine. Or was when it was working properly. I knew you weren’t listening at the time. And I bet you didn’t even read the manual like I warned you to.
(The Dr pulls a face).
Always said you’d grow up into nothing...
Dr: Well, some of us don’t have to time read manuals from cover to cover – they’ve got planets to save!
FF: Oh, saving planets is it now?! I remember when you were just impatient about collecting aliencards and saving up to make your first sonic screwdriver. What happened to that other Gallifreyan boy you always swapped them with? The one who was always playing about making sonic lasers? He was quite fond of you, you know.
Dr: He suddenly turned really evil and tried to destroy the universe several times over – with me in it! Listen, do me a big favour and fix the old girl, please!
FF: Oh, go and play with your humanoid friend while I try and get to the bottom of this...
Dr: (Realising Clara’s missing) Clara?! Clara! (Wanders back to the shack).
(Scene 6).
B2: Don’t play innocent with us, missus. We have all the facts down here: Humanoid from Earth – result, dangerous. Humanoid from the early 21st century: very dangerous. Humanoid from Lancashire – ooh, deary me, fatal!
B1: Time travelling before her era, quid pro quo she must know a time travelling other from a more civilised race, ipso facto: extremely dangerous!
Clara: You can’t generalise like that!
B1: Ebam capillus onus habet umbram
Clara: Eh?!
B1: Even a single hair casts a shadow.
Clara: But we do good the Dr and me! Well, most of the time...and that incident on the planet Hellopshere was an accident, you can’t count that! I really am very sorry about what happened to the Emperor’s chicken farm! It taught me a very valuable lesson and...and...that engagement wasn’t legally binding anyway!
B2: Now look here, you were caught tampering with a Clandusprod device. That can only mean one thing – you’re trying to stop us!
Clara: Stop you? Why would I want to stop you?!
B1: Veni, Vedi, Vici. You wanted to prevent our grand scheme. Eliminate all the evil out there in the universe!
B2: Yes, all we have to do with any known hostile alien is wait for any of them to contact the lost and found planet about a missing ray gun or a locked-up war criminal and bob’s your uncle.
B1: Alea Icta Est.
B2: An easy way to catch evil monsters. We’ll probably get a promotion for this!
B1: If the paperwork doesn’t get lost and end up here again like last time we tried to hand our coursework in anyway!
Clara: So...you’re saying you want to stop others from taking over the universe? Well, that’s novel!
B2: And you an Earth human! You’re some of the worst of the lot!
B1: Yes, we were dead scared when our altered clandusprod robot picked your signals up, given all we’ve learnt of your warring history, from caveman to Romans to the cold war to the most dreaded of them all (the coalition!), but did we show it? Oh no!
B2: We scored an ‘A’ in that class didn’t we Belobrat junior?! We even re-created Roman wars and World War two battles on our playground before we learnt to grow into mature and peaceful adults! And we scored pretty well in our hostile situations class too! A perfect education for us to put what we learned in class to use in the real world!
B1: There’s nothing you can do to stop us! We have the devastation guns pointing at you! You’re in unfamiliar surroundings! You’re in the dark! And there’s nothing you can do about it!
Clara: A Contrario! (She does a sideways kick off the wall, bounces off a trampoline – who looks remarkably like a discarded Cassandra body – and falls on the Belobrats in a heap. She grabs their guns. They shiver in fright).
B1: Oh tempera! Oh Mores!
(Scene 7)
The Dr has rushed into the shack looking a little worried.
Dr: Clara?! CLARA!
He sees she isn’t there. His quick eyes spy the Clandusprod and assesses the situation. He rushes out the door back to FF.
Dr: My assistant, tall girl, long hair, big eyes, you’ve seen her, she’s gone. This...thing was there though. Could it have done something to her?
FF (Chuckles): My dear Dr, what a one for getting into scrapes you are! No, that’s a clandusprod, a primitive device I use on this planet for sorting our wares between those that might still be of use to their owners and those that are purely junk. I programmed them myself, they’re perfectly harmless!
(The Dr scans it with his sonic screwdriver).
Dr: Well, I’m not so sure this one’s harmless, it looks like it’s been tampered with.
The Clandusprod whirs. It’s eyes light up.
C1: Processing!
FF: It’s only scanning you to see what you are and check you’re not a piece of bric-a-brac!
Dr: No, no! It’s under someone else’s control! You can see very carefully the lines around the top of the helmet where somebody’s been trying to break in!
C1: Processing!
Dr: Be very, very still, I’m going to overpower it!
FF: But Dr! I thought you’d have grown out of these dramatics past your first regeneration!
The Dr puts it on the ground, raises the screwdriver in the air and then brings it down to point at the Clandusprod. It blows up, but as it does so it takes the Dr with it, stretching his face the exact same way it stretched Clara’s. He’s vanished.
FF (sigh) Always the same! These ephemerals don’t understand the virtues of patience, that one especially...
(Scene 8).
The scene in the Belobrat holding bay as before, with Clara on top of Belobrats 1 and 2 – only the Dr materialises out of nowhere, holding the damaged bottom case of the clandusprod in his arms, and falls on top of all of them.
Dr (taking charge): Ah, good, Clara, I knew if I zapped this weird machine-thingy that no one else in their right mind would touch I’d find you’d have touched it too! Now I’d like to know who you both are and just exactly why you’ve tampered with this perfectly good clandusprod!
B2: Aaaah, a timelord! Save me, senior, I’m so scared of him!
B1: Please don’t hurt us! We’re doing this for your own good...in a way!
Dr (puzzled, to Clara): What’s he talking about?!
Clara: They’re some sort of intergalactic police service trying to rid the world of monsters while on their work experience placement at college. Trying to do good, apparently, and stop all the evil in the universe from spreading.
Dr (still puzzled): Oh. Isn’t that my job? (to B1 and B2): Now look here, chaps, it was a nice try but, well, I’m afraid some super hostile intergalactic criminals on the run from having caused immense chaos and destruction on their home worlds just don’t want to get caught! Now, what exactly did you do to this machine?
B1: We simply installed a camera so we could see who would use it!
B2: And a zapping machine to bring it here when we were ready! Don’t forget that!
B1: We’ve been here for years – and we’re pretty proud of the way it’s gone so far
Dr: Why, how many naughty aliens have you two caught?
B1: One
Dr: One?!
B2: One
B2: And we let him go because he agreed he’d never park illegally in the Gamma Quadrant without a licence ever again!
Clara: But why?!
B2: He’d forgotten to update his driving license picture when he regenerated!
Clara: Not that, silly! I meant why study other races like that.
B1: Si Vis Pacem, para bellium. (Clara looks blank).
B2: Get to know your enemy. If you want peace, you must prepare for war first.
Clara (to the Dr): How come when they talk in alienese or whatever it is I can understand them perfectly and yet when they’re talking in Latin I can’t understand them?!
Dr: The Tardis translation circuits were probably the first thing to go when we had our little – erm - accident. Lucky everyone else on this planet speaks English, eh, our we’d be in a right old mess?!
B2: We swear on our tri-headed family gravestone, we did not do anything else to those machines.
Dr: Well, I’m inclined to agree with you. Whoever really tampered with this clandusprod machine clearly has a fiendish, devilish, evil genius mind! And – no offence you two – you don’t strike me as the sort of fiendish, devilish, evil geniuses to come up with it!
B2: We only installed a camera!
B1: Honest!
B2: And a transporter zappy thing!
B1: To be honest, even that was a bit beyond our abilities...I ended up on Spiridon before my colleague found a way of bringing me back. I was stuck there for a year. With nothing to do and just invisible aliens in bright purple cloaks to talk to! It was horrible!
Clara: Are there more like you, then?! Back on your planet?
B2: Only as many as our planet will substantially allow. Whenever another life-form is needed it grows in another’s place. There’ve never been as many of us as there are now. It was positively heaving, we had no room to ourselves at all, we just had to get away.
Clara: Oh?! And how many of you are there now?
B1: Thirty.
Clara Thirty?! For the whole planet!
B2: We knew you’d be shocked at our vast numbers!
Clara: Yes but...
(Clara looks sympathetic; The Dr meanwhile has been fiddling with his sonic screwdriver and tries it again on the clandusprod.
Dr: Hmm.....I wonder. How many of these machines have you tampered with?
B1: Eight billion and four. The professor’s had a bit of time on his hands, being an eternal, and we’re not exactly stretched for time either.
B2: Honestly, we only work at weekends.
Clara: What?! You thought that evil monsters would only want to claim their stuff at weekends?
B1: Quite honestly, we thought they’d be a bit busy during the week what with all that conquering and stuff they do!
(Scene 9)
Back in the shack FF is having a cup of very swirly and alien looking orange tea, with his feet up on the desk, reading a book on ‘Ancient Gallifreyan Technology’. It looks suspiciously like River Song’s blue roundel-filled diary. A box with the words ‘Gallifreyan Hexagonal Teabags – Best Before 88 BC’ is on the desk. FF sighs and checks his watch.
FF: 72 hours...I suppose that’s my coffee break over with now I’ve got some extra work in. I wonder where that scallywag of a Timelord got to...?
Suddenly there’s a knock on the door. Wearily FF starts to get up. The banging gets louder.
FF: I’m coming, for goodness sakes...I’m not as quick on my feet as I used to be!
The banging is getting really loud now. FF finally opens the door and – WHOOOSH! – hundreds and thousands of clandusprods of all sizes are rushing at him, swirling round the shack, upsetting the ‘tea’ and smothering him from all shapes and angles. At the same time every single clandusprod turns on, turns red and announces in a million chattering voices all slightly out of synch with each other: PROCESSING....OWNER NOT FOUND! DEVESTATION IN PROGRESS! FF lets out a strangulated, wordless cry. And –
Silence. It’s as if he had never been there at all.
(Scene 10)
The Dr, Clara and the two Belobrats are riding on two separate rickety looking alien tandems, with square wheels and a jagged frame. It’s clearly not been used for some time.
Clara: Surely you came prepared for a getaway in something better suited to the job than this?!
B1: Hey, it was the only thing available at the time. And besides, we didn’t take it officially – we only borrowed it!
Dr: Borrowing without asking isn’t nice, so square that with your over zealous consciences! (beat) I have to say, though, I rather like it, travelling in style!
They arrive at the shack. There’s no one there.
Dr: Professor Fortescue?...That’s odd, I wouldn’t have said he was into moving far away from his old shack! If only I could find out whose been causing all this mess?
Clara: Can you hear something?...
Dr: If only I could get a trace of where professor Fortescue has got to, that would be a start. I could re-callibrate the sonic to have another go at trying to find out where he’s got to I suppose...
Clara (over):Dr?...
Dr: That might take a bit of time, though, so I could just go to the Tardis and hope the professor’s had time to at least fix the sat nav system.
Clara (over, slightly louder): Dr?!...
Dr: Of course, if she’s as de-stabilised as I think she is then, well, it’ll take the professor there a good few millennia to solve the problem that little interruption would cause
Clara (over, even louder): Dr!....
Dr: Then again, if I could make a temporal neural by-pass by reversing the polarity of the neutron flow...
Clara: DR!!!!
The Dr stops mid-sentence. Around all four of them are the hundreds of clandusprods who attacked them earlier.
Dr: Of course, that would work too!
B1: (Sigh) Semper idiom! (Not again!)
All of them are zapped as before
A beat: nothing
(Scene 11)
FF is waiting in the room, along with a mysterious figure in the shadows.
Clara: We really must stop doing that you know!
Dr: Oooh, it’s setting one of my hearts out of synch with the other!
FF (slightly flustered): Ah there you are Dr! Honestly, I’ve spent millennia on this planet and nothing’s happened to me, not once. We don’t even get post on this planet! You land here for 30 seconds and...well...
The dark figure rustles. The camera tries to peek into the corners of what looks like a dusty spaceship (covered in roundels) but annoyingly, we can’t quite see who it is. An electronic voice echoes round the room – clearly not directly spoken by the figure.
?: So, you came back to your old haunt timelord. I knew your old antiquated type 40 Tardis wouldn’t last indefinitely. It’s lasted a fair bit longer than I expected it to but, no matter – as you’ll see that extra time has been well spent waiting for you to show yourself, getting ready for you to make an appearance, as you nearly always do even if you are a few thousand years too late.
Dr: That voice....It’s been so long since I...
?: Time passes, timelord, even for you and I and that infernal eternal there. But some things never die. Love, hate, The Spice Girls, some things last forever. And that includes our appointment! You’re more than overdue for the rest of that conversation we were going to have! I must apologise to the Belobrats for stealing their idea. It was rather a good one: trapping all the evil in the world together in one place and then keeping an eye on them and keping them under observation and control so that they may only do my bidding! I think I’ll call them up now! Computer: take away one random wrong answer and... no, sorry, wrong show...upload every owner of every object that’s here on this planet. All 93 billion of them!
The computer makes ‘computing’ noises. The Dr, seeing what’s on the screen, backs out the door with a worried look on his face. The others follow. Things go into slow motion.
?: Run, timelord, run! I can track you down wherever you go! I have secret powers that can find you wherever and whenever you run to. I can see across time, across space! And you can’t escape! I destabilised the Tardis so you can’t run away from me this time!
(Scene 12)
Clara (puffed): Who...was...that?
Dr: You really don’t want to know!
Clara: No...go on, if I’m going to die I always like to know whose going to kill me. (The Dr gives her a look as they run at high speed). Don’t blame me, it’s just a quirk I have.
Dr: She’s from a long time ago, from my past, back when I was different – when much more about me hadn’t changed than just my face!
Shimmering objects appear translucently before them. One a dalek, another an ice warrior, yet another a yeti.
Dr: A yeti?! What objects does a yeti have?!
The yeti roars and hurls himself at Clara and one of the Belobrats in full flight, only to veer left and gather up a familiar and intelligent looking ball.
Dr: Figures.
FF (from the rear): Where are we running to? I’m not that up to running these days!
Dr: Where else? The Tardis!
B1: Extra ecclesiam nulla salus – outside the church there is no salvation!
FF: But she’s not fixed yet! There’s nothing we can do!
Dr: We can at least close the doors and we’ll be safe!
The five of them puff up to the Tardis, which now magically has all the debris back inside, bar a lone scarf hanging out the door. They walk through the doors.
The Belobrats are shocked and awed. FF is deeply unimpressed.
B2: You surely are a God?
Dr: Only on Wednesdays, today’s my day off. Well, you need a day off every now and again don’t you? I thought the backup cataloguing system would have sorted itself out by now – and it has! We’re safe!
Clara: Will we really be safe in here?
Dr: Oh yes, the safest place in the universe. Well, give or take a quiet backward planet or two!
FF: Briliant! We’re inside an object that you legally own! No outside forces can get inside here and even if we can’t take off we can stay safe inside here for years, millennia even! I take it all back Dr, you’ve grown into quite the genius!
Clara: Millennia?! I don’t fancy that, however big the Tardis is meant to be. Dr....Dr? What’s wrong? I know that face. It’s your worried face. And I’d much prefer to see your happy, confident, I’ve-got-32-backup-plans-and-they’re-all-gonna-work-brilliantly face right now...
Dr (quietly): I don’t own the Tardis.
Clara (clearly not realising the signifigance): Come again?
Dr: I don’t own the Tardis.
Clara: But it’s yours. I mean of course you own it – it’s your Tardis!
Dr: It’s not mine. I...borrowed it.
Clara: What?
Dr (suddenly loud and fast): It was in for repairs, it was old, it was doddery, it was about to be de-comissioned. I thought no one would miss it. And I was right, in fact. A museum piece, this, even back when there were museums on Gallifrey to put it in! In fact I did them a favour, taking it off their hands so they wouldn’t have to dismantle it apart themselves – it can take years, sometimes. A year’s a long time, even when you’re a timelord. Especially one on a workfare scheme who wants to be doing something interesting with his life, out seeing new worlds, exploring new galaxies, inventing new machines, studying with professors, laughing at politicians, partying with new people. Long story. Soon to be a rather short ending. We’re not safe in here. We’re alI going to be taken prisoner. Or zapped. Or worse. I Don’t. Own. The. Tardis. (beat)
Clara: Oh, OK.
B1: Malum consillium quod maturi non potest
Clara: which means...?
B2: ‘It’s a bad plan that cannot be changed’!
FF: I knew it! Even up to your 11th regeneration I bet you couldn’t afford the down-payments on even an old vessel like this!
B2: So that means we’re, erm, in a bit of trouble?
FF: Can’t we fight back?
B1: Dulce Berrum Inexpertis
Clara: What’d bighead say?
B2: ‘War is sweet only to those who have never fought’
Dr: Any of those aliens outside can break in at any time and kill us all. I’m frankly surprised they haven’t already. We’ve got no means of escape. Time’s running out. And I think I see one coming now...
A hazy brown figure starts to form in between the Dr and Clara. It turns into an Ood that looks round at his surroundings and then suddenly points a gun at the crew.
But then he suddenly stops.
Ood: Dr?! I never thought you’d stoop so low as to steal my talking device and then lure me here to this strange backward planet. I do answer to invitations you know!
Next a Judoon materialises
Judoon: Ro! Jo! Flo! Ko! Po! Wakkakakkamo!
Clara: What did the horny guy say?
Dr (To Clara): He says he’s been looking for his helmet for years and wants to thank us all for finding it for him. (to the Judoon): Ho! So! Lo! Mo! Jethro! Toe! Indipossilossikalossigadanossihasilgo!
A Silurian appears.
Silurian Sid: Why, a timelord and a humanoid. What timezone am I in? And thank you for saving my armour!
A menoptera materialises: Dr! Do you bring us here to turn on your enemies? I thought that was never your style! I am very grateful for my spare set of wings however!
A Rill appears, clouded in smoke: My chumbley! Returned at last! Thankyou Dr, I am forever in your debt!
Sil appears, covered in slime: As am I, timelord! Have a marsh minnow? [funny laugh]
A Gond materialises: You saved my people from the Krotons once, Dr. It is only right that I should help save you!
‘Hello, I’m Yartek, leader of the alien Voord. Am I late for a party?’
B1: Ubi Concordia, ibi Victoria – where there is unity, there is victory!
Clara: Well, the gang’s all here!
Dr: Then let’s get going!
(Scene 13)
Dr: Alright, then, madame, I call your bluff. I’ve got several allies with me here and they won’t let anything happen to me! I may have been away a long time, but I made friends – yes, friends and allies – who will all back me up. Sure, you may have some rogue daleks who want to get their own back on me out there, there may be a few despondent cybermen looking for some spare limbs they’ve lost and there be one or two megalomaniacs I’ve stopped in my time looking for their big hats to fit their big heads. But you know what? There’s a lot more good out there in the universe than there is bad and we can take anything you throw at us!
A beat.
A piece of card falls out of nowhere onto the ground.
Dr (shaken): Except that.
Clara: What is it Dr?
Dr: The most fiendish evil unscrupulous menacing corrupted bit of paper in the whole universe. It’s my jobcentre time sheet!
Clara: Your what?!
Dr: My time sheet. I was supposed to register with the Galifreyan Jobcentreplus service when I finished at the academy. They had a whole range of jobs lined up for me, apparently. I could have joined the council. Become one of the fixed points in time that worked on the Matrix. Repaired Tardises for a living. Become a proper doctor. But I had my hearts set on travelling. I wanted to explore – like you often do when you’re young – only in my case I got a bit carried away on my gap year and now I find myself in late middle age, at 1205, still doing having the time of my lives. There were other worlds out there you see, places my people had only ever read about in books. And it was coming to this planet that started it all for me. One tiny insignificant little planet in the back waters of some forgotten universe that inspired me to travel and showed me the world was bigger than my own planet. At the time I never knew how beautiful and eclectic the universe could be. I wasn’t actually meant to come here at all – we were only ‘visiting’ my dad told me and he signed me out of Gallifreyan college on the understanding that once I’d seen real life outside our planet, with all its confusion, chaos, dirt and hard work I’d never want to go anywhere else ever again. But they were wrong! It only inspired me more!
Clara: And you were slightly delayed for your next jobcentre appointment?
Dr: Yes. Madame Jobcentre Robot from Zigorous 3 here must have still been working somehow all these years on, still trying to track me down to complete her mission and tie me down to some desk job I would have hated. If I’d listened to her, if I’d have kept my dreams small instead of making them as wide as the universe I wouldn’t be here now – I’d have died in the time wars like the rest of them. Let’s turn her off!
Clara: There’s an off switch?!
Dr: Yes, I always wanted to turn her off when I first met her but never had the courage. That was something else I picked up on my travels, you know.
Clara: I can see that!
The sonic screwdriver whirs again. The hazy shadowy figure disappears.
Dr: And now something else I hated people saying to me in my youth.
Clara: What’s that?
Dr: Time to go home.
After shaking the hands, limbs, flippers, eyestalks and horns of everyone involved, the Dr waves goodbye with his left hand, waves his sonic screwdriver with his right and suddenly everyone except Clara, FF and the Belobrats have gone.
(Scene 14).
FF: Well, goodbye Dr. Perhaps you did learn something after all, you young whippersnapper!
Dr: Indeed! And it’s never too late for an old dog to learn new tricks. Fancy a spin in her now you’ve fixed her?
FF: Ooh, there’s not really much point is there. That’s the problem with being an eternal. Everything seems to be over in the blink of an eye. I’d no sooner have got onboard than I’d be going home again!
Dr: Suit yourself! (he turns to the Belobrats).
B1: Amiciate nostrae memoriam spereo sempternam fore – I hope that the memory of our friendship will be everlasting!
Dr: ...And you two, have you learnt anything today?
B2: Err...not to mention this mess when I hand in my coursework?!
Dr: That’s a start!
B1: Vitam, regit fortuna, no sapientia
Clara: Hey, no fair, I thought the Tardis translation circuits had been fixed?!
Dr: I can over-ride them sometimes you know, been a long time since I had a companion who could speak Latin! Julie it was, flew around with me for a bit, good ole Ceasar. I helped name a salad after him you know! Anyway our friend here said ‘fortune, not wisdom, rules lives.’ (to B1). A very good lesson that, top of the class!
B1: Not to mention Vestis no Virrum Reddit
Dr: What?! How dare you! ‘You can’t tell the quality of a man from his clothes’ – I’m a wonderful dresser! Just look at this bowtie! And the fez! Fezzes are cool!
B1: Amare et sepere vix deo concediteur – even a God finds it hard to love something and be wise at the same time!
FF (to Clara): I’m not sure he’s learnt anything
Clara: I’m not sure he ever will!
No clandusprods were harmed during the imagining of this programme, honest!
If you enjoyed this then you’re mad. Sorry about that, there’s no known cure anywhere in the Western spiral galaxy. It might interest you to know, though, that I also run a similarly monkeynuts music review website at www.alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk There are lots of Dr Who references, naturally, it being the best TV programme ever made and all, especially in our time-travelling April Fool’s special – including stories for all 11 Doctors at the link here:
http://alansalbumarchives.blogspot.co.uk/2012_04_01_archive.html
Farewell for now!
CUE THEME MUSIC. OOOOOOOOOOOOOH! WOOOOO-OOOOOH! WOOOOOOOOOOOOOH! Weoooooooo-ooooh! WAHOOOOOOOOO!
Credit Dr – Matt Smith
Clara – Jenna Louise-Colman
Professor Fortescue – Max The Dog
Belobrat 1: Patrick Stewart
Belobrat 2: William Shatner
Jobcentre Advisor: An ugly alien from Meggron Four
Assorted aliens were played by the Spice Girls
This has been a ‘Monkeynuts’ production for Alan’s Album Archives...
Goodnight!

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