JS Doctor - The Chronic Rift (ii)

Books/Other Related Material-
Doctor Who: Crisis On Infinite Earths Rip-Off
Doctor Who Tours The Cosmic Interstate
Dr Who Turns Into A Jerk (Canada Only)
"My Apotheosis Starts Here!" Jym de Natale's Doctor Who Diaries



Links and References -
In this story pretty much every single Doctor ever appears.

For the William Hartnell Doctor, this story takes place between "Doctor Who And The Diagrams of Pompeii Invade From Space" and "Cybernetic Anthropomorphous Machines Will Destroy Socialism Forever!". The Patrick Troughton Doctor appears from between "The Umpire Plants" and "Two Thousand And One Bores". The Jon Pertwee Doctor is from a point betwixt "Fugitives from Dance" and "Origin of Atlantis IV (AKA "Before the Leg End")". This story is between "The Spasmoid Jungle" and "The Wogan Terror" for the Tom Baker Doctor, while the Peter Davison Doctor is from a point somewhere around "The 375 to San Francisco Via The Bermuda Triangle" or maybe "The Cretins of Camelot"? The Colin Baker Doctor is from "The Wicked Weed" and "The Mystery of the Things" simultaneously. The Sylvester McCoy Doctor is from "The Squeal of the Silent", "The Sinfinity Treason", "Living in Compost" or maybe at a pinch "Teenage Cocks". The Paul McGann Doctor is from between "The Heroin-Taking Hero Is A Megalomaniac" and "Apocryphal Bullshit". The Rowan Atkinson Doctor and Emma Bunting are from between "Doctor Who and the Brian of Morbius" and "Doctor Who and the Curse of Fatal Death". The Matthew Kopelke Doctor and Chloe Richards are between "Dullness Falls" and "Persuasion of the Dustbins". While for the Steve Johnson Doctor and Monica Swallows this occurs between "The Stockholm Terror" and "Flesh of the... Cursed". The Nicholas Briggs Doctor, Kevin and Squeaky are from after "Futile Signs". The Peter Cushing Doctor, Suzie and Louise are between "Dustbins Versus The Martian Sphinx" and "Dustbins: Vacation on Earth 2150AD". The Mark Gatiss Doctor, Eric and Mong between "A Princess Amongst Warriors" and "Caught in Time". And the Eighth Doctor, Serge the Seal and Charley are from just between "Bored of Ironing" and "The Stoned of Venice".

... are you happy now? WHAT MORE DO YOU WANT? BLOOD?!?



Untelevised Misadventures -
At one point, the Doctor's last two incarnations appear before the ailing Time Lord and start taunting him. This is apparently NOT some deathbed hallucination but the two incarnations travelling through time just to be really nasty.

Segal Doctor: You deserve that you big wanker!
Savage Doctor: Yeah!
Segal Doctor: You really have this coming!
Savage Doctor: Yeah!
Segal Doctor: No one like you!
Savage Doctor: Nah!
Segal Doctor: Everyone says so.
Savage Doctor: Yeah!
Segal Doctor: We've got a really nasty surprise for you, buster.
Savage Doctor: Yeah!
Segal Doctor: We're gonna get you!
Savage Doctor: Yeah!



Dialogue Train Wrecks
---------------------

Doctor: Now, like most people, Chris, you no doubt believe that the universe is the whole thing that exists anywhere? Maybe you would call it Everything, All That Is? But there you would be wrong! The universe in which the planet Earth revolves around Father Sun is but one of an infinite plurality of universes, every one different to every other and no two alike - of space, there is no boundary and of time, there is no end.

Chris: Is this relevant, Lord Doctor?

Doctor: Hmm? Oh, goodness me, no. I'm just spouting nonsense off the top of my head. Now, they used to ask 'how many legions of angels could stand upon the point of a pin?' whenever they wanted to shut each other up. The same notion applies to these infinite universes.

Chris: You mean, that they were created to keep the clergy silent?

Doctor: Yes! And yet no! I mean, the universes occupy no space or room because in the infinite there is no concept of SIZE. Universes can be infinitely large or infinitely small depending on who you are and how you look at it and whether there really is a certain, fixed point of absolute magnitude. Now, that isn't to say these universes don't overlap or coincide...

Chris: Is something about to happen to us involving these universes, Doctor?

Doctor: No.

Chris: It is just whenever thou seem to speak about such things, they always seem to be uncommonly vital knowledge to understand the escapades we are about to endure. It is as if you are telling me all the details now so when we are caught up in a problem with all these other universes, you won't have to explain it to me then...

Doctor: Chris, as if I would deliver raw exposition to you as a cheap form of foreshadowing in lieu of conversation! I value our friendship far too much to use it so shamelessly.

Chris: So that is not what you're doing?

Doctor: Not at all! Put such thoughts from your mind. Now take a look at those small sacks hanging off the trees over there. They're called cocoons and inside are caterpillars, weaving those things in casings around them. They go into a state of hibernation, a time of sleep, and then they change.

Chris: Change?

Doctor: Yes, they become butterflies. Like those over there. Those graceful creatures once crawled on the ground. It's part of the Circle of Life, it's all proof that life continues, and changes with time.

Chris: You are CERTAIN that this is not vital knowledge for the upcoming events in the immediate future?

(Pause)

Doctor: Look here, Chris, do you have ANY idea how difficult it is to find something even REMOTELY interesting to talk about when you are in Cardiff?

-------

Doctor: What happened here? Why are you holding Dara under water?

Crichton: The clouds prepare for battle
In the dark and brooding silence.

Mark: Miss Hamilton is dead. She gave her life to save ours.

Crichton: Bruised and sullen storm clouds
Have the light of day obscured.

Doctor: Gave her life?! Dara?!? Save OTHERS?!?!? IMPOSSIBLE!

Crichton: Looming low and ominous
In twilight premature
Thunderheads are rumbling
In a distant overture...

Doctor: That is REALLY not helping, Colonel! Now, come on, Mark. Admit it. Dara's not dead.

Mark: Can't a guy live in hope?

Doctor: Look, there's hope and there is denial. She's waving at us for crying out loud. She's alive.

Crichton: All at once, the clouds are parted!
Light streams down in bright unbroken beams...

Chris: Why doth he only communicate in Rush songs?

Crichton: FOLLOW MEN'S EYES
AS THEY LOOK TO THE SKIES!

Doctor: No idea, Chris. It sure is irritating though.

Crichton: THE SHIFTING SHAFTS OF SHINING
WEAVE THE FABRIC OF THEIR DREAMS!

-------

Briggs Doctor: I fear I am losing my marbles, my plot has lost it... all of my eggs are in a strange basket. The square of my hypotenuse is nowhere near the square of my other two sides. Oh, cruel fate, I have made my escape but my mind is indeed a prison.

Doctor: Is he always like this?

Kevin: Pretty much.

Briggs Doctor: I must rest at once, perchance I should come right, at dawn's first light, and with a bit of luck, at the crowing of the cock, my mind will cease to run amok. Whew - at least I haven't lost my capacity for lousy poetry!!

Kevin: Stupid junkie.

-------

Crichton: Do you agree to behave?

Dara: Very well, I'll chill. For now. but only because I don't know what's going on and you look eggheaded enough to tell me the answers. Where as I am like totally hot it just isn't funny. I've been chased by mobs of adoring guys in my time.

Chris: Let us kill her anyway!

-------

1st Doctor: You know, if you ever get through to the other side of this one, I think you're going to have change the way you live.

Doctor: What do you mean?

1st Doctor: Get back to Blighty.

2nd Doctor: Find yourself a piece of land.

3rd Doctor: Find yourself a beautiful woman... heck! Maybe even raise some kids!

4th Doctor: Ahhhh, quit dreaming.

5th Doctor: We're not gonna pull through to the other end of this one... Skip.

6th Doctor: You've got to DREAM, old chap! You've GOT to HOLD ON to the DREAM!

Doctor: Can I ask you a question?

7th Doctor: Shoot from the hip, Doctor. That's always been your style.

1st Doctor: What's your question?

Doctor: Well, I guess it's kind of out of left field.

2nd Doctor: Best kind.

Doctor: But my question is this...

4th Doctor: [Sighs] Yeah?

Doctor: Why are you all talking such complete and utter BOLLOCKS?!

6th Doctor: I don't know, Doctor.

5th Doctor: Well, I guess that in times like these you just have to stop lying to yourself...

Doctor: Oh, shut up! Shut up!

3rd Doctor: Yeah... Yeah, well, I guess we're all 'shut up' in our own way...

Doctor: Oh SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UPPP!!

7th Doctor: You know, the truth of it is that...

Doctor: ALL RIGHT, THAT'S IT! I'M REGENERATING! ANYTHING TO SHUT YOU UP!!



Dialogue Gems
-------------

McGann Doctor: Listen to me, you morons! Our TARDISes are feeding the Rift, so the best thing to do is for us all to haul arse out of here as quick as possible before we all get blown to smithereens!

Charley: Oooh, that sounds intriguing...

McGann Doctor: Not now, Charley. There's no other way - but one of us has to stay behind to stop the Rift collapsing in on us as we leave, so one of YOU will have to risk your own lives for the rest of us. Get it? Got it? Good!

(Long pause.)

Bastard: Well, don't look at ME!

Kopelke Doctor: Saving every universe in creation must be worth a full ten on the machismo-meter. What do you think Chloe? Or are you just going to compare everything that happens to us to some pop culture reference?

Chloe: This makes as much sense as DC's Crisis on Infinite Earths!

Kopelke Doctor: That's my girl. No, I think we'll pass.

Briggs Doctor: Well, you can't expect ME to be the one to do it! I let people DIE for me! It's my misjudgment that lead to the destruction of the most beautiful place in the world! Misjudgment! I'LL SHOW YOU MISJUDGMENT!

Kevin: OK, Doctor, time to go back to the womb. Back to the womb, Doctor. Back to the womb.

Briggs Doctor: Out of breath! All right in a minute! No fuss!

Kevin: Boom-boom. Back to the womb. Boom-boom.

Briggs Doctor: [Calming Down] All too much you see... You can't go round making mistakes all the time...

Kevin: Boom-boom. Gurlge-gurgle. Boom-boom.

Briggs Doctor: [Falling asleep] All a matter... of stark... sim...plicity...

Kevin: Boom-boom. Boom-boom. OK, he's down. Can we take a rain check?

Cushing Doctor: The poor chap. You see where the path of vice and drug addiction leads you, Young Susan? Perhaps you'll give up that meth amphetamine lab you've been running after school, hmmm?

Susan: Shut your gob, you useless tosser. Let's blow this place.

Cushing Doctor: But what about the fate of the parallel universes?

Susan: Move it, old man or I'll break both your kneecaps.

Atkinson Doctor: This is all so soul-crushingly predictable. I think I'll have to give this business a miss as well. After you've saved the multi-verse the first five times it gets as tedious as spending an incredibly vast amount of time doing something incredibly tedious when you don't have to. Isn't that right, Leela?

Emma: I'm not Leela! I'm Emma!

Atkinson Doctor: Oh yes. Sorry, Peri, my dear...

Emma: PERI!??! I'M EMMA!!

Atkinson Doctor: Mmm. Yes. Perhaps we best leave here sooner rather than later, all right, Brigadier?

Emma: ARGHHHHHH!!!!

Johnson Doctor: Typical! Typical hypocritical cowardice! Are you all useless would-be feminists? I can smell the estrogen from here. All that needs doing is to re-route the pulse relays by the auxiliary conductor node and transpose all the prime numbers in the first line of the alphabet to the energy equation, and the TARDIS will be in no real danger.

Monica: So why don't YOU stay behind then?

Johnson Doctor: Don't embarrass yourself by trying to achieve abstract thought, Monica, you'll damage your ovaries. No, I'm clearly a far better champion of time and guardian of life than any of these spineless good-for-nothings, who I can confidently suggest won't be missed by their respective universe.

Monica: You're pathetic. I hate you.

McGann Doctor: I guess that narrows it down to between David Copperfield and Lewis Carroll over there. So, which is it to be?

Eric: Er, do we get a say in this?

Gatiss Doctor: No.

Mong: Oh, well, fuck you then!

("Land of Hope and Glory" begins to play.)

Gatiss Doctor: How many lives have I had? Perhaps more than even I know. This must be done, not merely to save the universe, but EVERY universe! They all must be saved, from realities where the Wild West is overrun by dinosaurs, to lands where robot rabbits roam. Worlds full of song and dance, planets made entirely of sweets, lands of movie monsters, and places perhaps where even the Doctor as we know him may never have exist at all. It must be done not for the honor, not for the glory, not even for the thrill, and certainly not for a very large amount of money, but because it is right and we must always...

(Off-the-record noise.)

Doctor: OK! OK! I'll do it! Never mind!

McGann Doctor: Fine with me. DAMN IT, I JUST LOVE NOBLE SELF-SACRIFICE! Bye!

Gatiss Doctor: Yeah, bye.

Johnson Doctor: Bye.

Cushing Doctor: Farewell, young man.

Kopelke Doctor: Bye!

Atkinson Doctor: Ciao.

Bastard: Sayonara, sucker!

--------

Chris: The console! What has happened?! It looks like Kuwait in here!

Doctor: Oh yeah. I was going to mention that. Was thinking of redecorating the place, what with the damage done... by the Trod... and the buffeting it took during time in the Rift... This console room has seen better days... I've tried to repair what I could... just so that we could make... one... last trip...

Chris: "Last"? Doctor, what are you saying?

Doctor: Chris, listen... I've set the coordinates... the old girl... will take you... to Disneyland...

Chris: No!

Doctor: Don't be upset, Chris. Daffy Duck is much nicer.. in person... uh...

(The Doctor sways and nearly falls but Chris balances him.)

Doctor: Thanks for that. I'm afraid... afraid... that I'm more beat up than I've let on. But with any luck... I can still survive... without having to do the whole... body changing repair deal... Makes you think of the first and last... the eternal... whatever...

(The Doctor falls backs onto the the ground in a dead faint.)

Chris: Doctor!

Doctor: Things are looking bleak... Well, I, I suppose this is it then, Chris... Oh, this is it... Shift over... The die is cast... There's nothing... that can be done for me... any more...

Chris: But you can't die! It is not possible! It is impossible! It is the OPPOSITE of POSSIBLE!

Doctor: No, Chris... I too can die... no one lives forever... not... even... Keith Richards...

(The Doctor sits bolt upright, on the verge of panic.)

Chris: Doctor! You still live...

Doctor: My past is catching up with me and it sounds like burning wood! Oh, god that was frightening! My whole life flashed before my eyes! It was sort of one long relentless collage of grey, interspersed with guest appearances by UNIT and returning monsters! I wish... I just wish... I just wish my life had just... just... just been COMPLETELY different! I must try to regenerate and cheat fate! Mind you... pissing fate off might not be the smartest thing to do at the moment...

(The Doctor grins idiotically, overtaken by an invisible power and can talk no more. He is reduced to incoherent mutter until his head falls back, sagging into unconscious. Suddenly, he convulses and orange energy explodes from his skin, blasting out of the holes in his clothes. Engulfed in the golden blaze, the Doctor begins to regenerate!)

Chris: What is happening? What is happening?!

(Chris staggers backwards, shielding her eyes from the heat and light - but she cannot look away. She stares transfixed, as gradually, the Doctor's hair lengthens, his face changes... until the blazing energy eventually dies away, finishing as suddenly as it began.)

Chris: Doctor, what is happening to you?! I won't ask again!

(And a completely new man is lying before her, still wearing the old Doctor's clothes. He looks slightly surprised for a moment, stares at the ceiling for a moment before turning to look at Chris.)

New Doctor: Change and renewal all around I see!

(Chris just stares with undisguised shock at the loony in the Doctor's ragged clothes. He grins.)

New Doctor: Forgive me, my dear Cleo Baxter, I'm feeling grotesquely emotional! I have crossed the great divide between one incarnation and the next - AND IT HURT LIKE HELL! ARGHHHH!

(He screams in pain for a second, then acts like nothing happened.)

Chris: Who art thou? What hast thou done with my lord Doctor?

New Doctor: Haha! I -AM- THE DOCTOR! Now, to work! I have been given a NEW life! My hour is come! I've struck oil at last! Oh, the responsibilities of Time's Champion! (Grimly) Best be careful not to make a bloody balls up of THIS one...

-------------------------------------------------------------------



Listener Reviews
-----------------

"Let the heavens cast their spray
Of light across the sky;
'Twill not touch the dark of Nineveh
Where Gallifreyans go to die!
Twelve rejuvenations all.
And not a season more,
Hath been the lot of the Time Lords
Since the darker days of yore!" - The Watcher of Nineveh! (0000)

"Listening to The Cardiff Rift was, for me, a bit like watching The Phantom of Androzani. There is a sadness to the final scene that touches even the uninitiated at how much is being ripped off better writers. I'm dying to find out if Coburn's successor can possible be as crap as he seems to be here, so roll on The Pretension Society..." - Mr. Twat (2000)

"Me? Rip off some trashy yank fan audios? When I already had my own triple-rejected series format 'XXX-Caliber'? You think I would go to the SCADs of all people for inspiration? Get real. GET.... REAL!!!!"
- RTD when quizzed whether The Cardiff Rift inspired him to create Touchwood

"Some call it the Zone of Silence
Where dreams die unfulfill'd
Where every chord and cadence
Of the song of life is still'd!
Others talk of timeless joy,
And venerate the day
That they might cut the skein
Of life upon dark Nineveh!" - The Deliverer From Mortal Shells (0000)

"There are people in this world who not only LIKE The Cardiff Rift, but say it's as good 'as Rob Shearman would write'. They say 'it has Classic Doctor Who written all over it'. They say 'a story with a regeneration in it can have no flaws?'. They say, 'Cardiff Rift hits home that the SCADs go beyond really good Doctor Who fan audios to absolutely fucking brilliant in every possible way audio amazement and all of human progress has merely been prelude to the Jym de Natale era of double cassette fandomania.' Me? I say 'They ditched Paul Ebbs' for this drivel? It's one long runaround sidelining both the Doctor and Chris. The foreshadowing over the regeneration with depressingly obvious as contrived injuries weaken the Doctor continuously before spending about six minutes stopping the story, then dying and becoming Jym de Natale, an ending not worth waiting for. This is yet ANOTHER reason to cut myself!'" - Ewen Campion-Clarke (2007)

"Easily one of the regeneration stories, since it features a regeneration, The Cardiff Rift does not have much going for it. Not the least of which is its unworthy scale. The Doctor has given up his life to save people... actually, no he hasn't. Or worlds. Or even an entire universe. Here, the Doctor makes the ultimate sacrifice for the ultimate good: to save every universe. Well, sort of. Actually he doesn't make a sacrifice, he just sort of happens to die really close to a grand dramatic gesture. I suppose, though, if you squint and tilt your head, it MIGHT just look like a noble self sacrifice. And that's if you count regeneration as sacrifice. I mean, he's still alive either way. He hasn't lost a bloody thing when you think about it. What a poser. Only occasionally pretending to have a plot, this story makes use of its characters and dues ex machinas... incredibly poor use, but use nonetheless. This is one adventure that will have you listening to it again and again just to convince yourself how truly pathetic the SCADs really can be."
- The Jeffrey Coburn Handbook (2000)

"So walk the ages, Time Lord,
Disregard the sign
But know that where the Watcher waits,
Waits the End of Time!
But do not fear this final fate
Of the reaper scantily clad
For it's a darn sight better
Then being part of a SCAD!" - The Eternal, Undeniable Death (0000)



Jeffrey Coburn Speaks!
----------------------

"I was extremely disappointed with my performance in this story. Then again, I was extremely disappointed with everyone else's performance in this story as well. Come to think about it, I was extremely disappointed with the story full stop. The script called for the Doctor to be ill and borderline psychotic through most of the story, and by 'most of the story', I mean all thirteen minutes I actually appeared in, but I don't think you could hear it in my voice. Could you in fact hear my voice at all?

In order to portray the Doctor's weakening condition, I deliberately slowed down his speech, drank three bottles of vodka and began to talk in a thick Irish accent. But it wasn't until I heard some of the rushes that I realised how much I sounded like a hungover Dylan Moran. I wondered how people could understand him! But then I remembered I didn't actually care.

I'd stopped caring around the fifth year. They do everything by story-blocks, you know. Five stories equaling one "season", no matter how much or how little time it takes to complete. So I was asked originally to do five seasons. I said,

"How about four and we'll see how it goes from there? Now can you please let go of my testicles please?" I remember some hemming and hawing from the executive producer, but they eventually agreed and let go of my bollocks. I can understand their point of view. It's amazing how much you can understand when they've got you by the balls. It's a real eye opener.

I mean, the longer they can contract an actor, the more stability they have for their planning. They can go to the writers and say, "Yes, definitely it will be this Doctor, so write a story for him". Not that they DO that of course, the bunch of hypocritical scumbags are so drunk and gonad-swollen the stories happen by sheer accident! And that was for me doing my very first scene with them - so I was more comfortable promising four. Five is an awfully long time to commit to. And that was when I thought five meant 'four and a bit years' rather than 'see you in 2010'.

Now I know the truth... don't get my wrong, playing the Doctor is great fun. It's playing the Doctor with these FOOLS, these IDIOTS with crucifixes hanging off them, is what isn't fun... I always thought Tom Baker stayed too long in the part. Seven years. Hhahha. Seven years. He got off quicker than I did! That lucky BASTARD! And he had attractive assistants he could bonk at will! Did he have Sheri fucking Divine breathing at him? No he did not! Peter had it right, three seasons and move on. Oh, dear Peter, what did become of him? Hinchman, I mean, not Davo. We all know what HE gets up to when the lights are out.

I took over the role in 1992, and after three seasons one has to wonder if you're beginning to grow stale playing the same part or whether you can get through another day without stabbing every last one of your co-stars to death with a toothpick because they breathe through their fucking FOREHEADS!

Half-way through my contract, they asked me if I wanted to extend it for another season or two. I was very flattered, and laughed hysterically for forty-nine minutes when I realized they were serious. They seemed to think that I, perfectly sane as I was at the time, would want to stay on for ANOTHER decade. After much thought I declined their offer, instead of crushing their skulls like soft-boiled eggs! As great a part as it's been, I think I'm getting a little bit sick and tired of these bastards, and it's probably time for a change before I become a postal worker and kill millions.

Nine years is ENOUGH to be playing ANY role, especially when every day is drowning in the slobber of Dave Segal and Chip Jamison!! The Doctor needs to be kept fresh, and some new blood for him will do wonders! And even if it doesn't, I won't care! I'm free! FREEE!

But I am annoyed at the scandalous rumors that I am somehow ashamed of being part of Doctor Who. A total lie. It's the SCADs I'm embarrassed about. As for my reluctance to do convention appearances, it may surprise you, but I actually get stage fright quite easily. I hide it by appearing as other people, whether it's as the Doctor or whatever other role I'm currently playing. If I'm not in character, I really shy away from the spotlight. Did you know that, except for my wedding photographs, there not a single snap of me not in some sort of costume? Often leather with masks and metal studs, but costumes nonetheless?

I've been asked to do a few conventions in America, but the thought of appearing before all those people as myself is just bone-frightening to me. I wouldn't know how to act. I've spent most of my life playing someone else to the audience that I don't think I'd know how to be just me anymore. Which is really quite all right, I think. There has to be some part of an actor's life that is kept out and away from the public. Otherwise where does an actor go to escape, he whose profession in life is helping other people to escape?

Well, that's what I told Doug, anyway..."



Jym de Natale Speaks!
---------------------

"Fans of the Superiority Complex Audio Dramas, this is your new - improved - Doctor speaking. Boyish grin, exile-of-the-Time Lords hand gesture, even more shining smile. Please attend carefully, the message that follows is vital to the future of you all.

At the time of speaking the fate of Doctor Who hangs in the balance, and the fulcrum of that balance is me. The choice for you all is simple: a continued fanbase under my guidance, or total annihilation! I have at my control the main character of the series, and with this power the entire format of the show! With these, I can revamp Doctor Who or destroy it! And a much better regeneration than with Segal, huh? That one sucked incredibly. But this one is a proper ending for his puny, pathetic and easily-maimed Doctor and a proper beginning for my strong, passionate and not-at-all-a-rip-off-of-Colin-Baker Doctor!

It'll be piss easy taking over from Jeff Coburn. Not that he's a bad Doctor, he's just not as good a Doctor as I am. He really is a very humble person, which is refreshing to come across in this business. Unlike Rachel, who often knifes you in the stomach and tells you, 'You got to meet me before you die! Aren't you lucky!' Which is irritating. Not as irritating as Jeff, though. He wouldn't even entertain invitations for interviews or even conventions, which cost us a lot of... publicity. And proof that 'Jeffrey Coburn' wasn't David Segal like the last two SCAD Doctors. Where was I? Oh yes.

So, earthlings, basically... A new age is dawning! One episode down, and plenty more left in me. The SCADs have been going for eighteen years, and we can do the same again and more! A hundred more years... A HUNDRED MORE YEARS! YAHAH!"



Peter Hinchman Speaks!
----------------------

"They asked me back for this story, what, four years after I left? I'd completely erased all memory of it from my mind. I had completely forgotten about Doctor Who and actually thought it was my GP ringing me up. I was terrified that I was going to be told I only had a few weeks to live. And then they told me they were from the SCADs, and suddenly terminal illness looked like some beautiful and unobtainable happy ending.

For some reason they wanted to bring back the character of Mark Tryhard rather than someone new and interesting most importantly not played by me. Still it was a big thing, because otherwise they wouldn't let Jeff Coburn do his last story. Could I willingly condemn anyone, especially a sweet little gofer like Jeff, to a fate like that? There isn't enough tequila to block out shame like that...

I was fairly impressed with the story. Since I'd left they had proper scripts, got things done on time and it wasn't all recorded live. The producer was still a paranoid schizophrenic and Dave Segal was still hiding in the wires, hunting knife in his mouth. There was this great nostalgia buzz, though the moment passed after about three or four seconds and I immediately tried to make a break for it. And I got out eventually, and so did Jeff.

But it was the last one either of us will do. NEVER AGAIN!!"



Sheri Devine Speaks!
--------------------

"What do I think of the character of Christine? Well, it was hard watching someone else being the companion for my Doctor after I was. Especially as it was on audio. Have you any idea how difficult it is to watch things on audio? You end up staring at a speaker for six hours. Any envy? That goes without saying, but all in all I thought she was incompetent in the role and a complete mockery of the brilliance of Dara Hamilton.

I did find it difficult to understand though for the reasoning that the Doctor had just dropped off Dara and he turned around and picked up Christine in the same sort of way. It just seemed like if he was so intent on not having me as a companion, he wouldn't have ANY more companions and that's the way it should have stayed! It's either me or nothing, bitch!

The ending scene was a very tough thing to do. Very, very hard. I don't know if The Cardiff Rift would be a good story to say goodbye in, I don't know if any story would be a good story to say goodbye in. Mind you, if it was another story, I wouldn't have had Jeff Coburn hogging the limelight because Mr. Wonderful High-And-Mighty Main Character was dying and regenerating all over the place. It Totally detracted from Dara's final appearance. Selfish, selfish, selfish, that is what it is. Who the hell does he think he is? Come to think of it, who the hell am I even talking about? Where am I, anyway? Is it time for my medication yet, sonny?"



Rachel Sommers Speaks!
----------------------

"I liked everything about The Cardiff Rift except for the last scene. Not because Jeffrey Coburn was leaving the series, but because of the New doctor coming in. It was Jym de Natale! That REALLY upset me! I did not want that story to end. The emotions of doing of the last scene with Jeffry Coburn came over me and when I realized I was stuck with that fat nutter, I cried."




Rumours, Slander, and Libel
---------------------------

It was during the middle of his third season that Jeffrey Coburn told the executive producer he was going to fall for the old "extend your contract" ploy that had fooled him throughout the last six times. Cobrun, who have never seemed to be happy in the role of the Doctor whenever the production team were in the same room, intended to leave as soon as possible.

"I knew this was coming," Douglas Phillips explains. "Mainly because every few minutes, Jeff would say to us 'I can't stand this any more! You bastards are all insane! BOWEL-SHATTERINGLY INSANE! I quit!' It seemed Richard Segal and I would spend hours trying to convince him that he was doing a good job; that we were very happy with his performance. But the more you talked to him, the less he'd believe it. Because none of it actually happened. We hardly spoke two words to it, but it really SEEMED like we were trying to encourage him, though Jeff had plenty of witnesses to the contrary. Like me. I can swear blind I never once said I was happy with his performance... but I still get this overwhelming impression that I did anyway! It was like a kind of self hypnosis, I suppose."

Indeed, it was only after management had given in to an exhausting series of demands from Coburn that kept him on long enough for them to set in motion all the stuff needed to regenerate the sod. They needed a new companion introduced and established so there would be someone experienced to work with the new Doctor. They needed a proper build up to the changeover. And they needed a title sequence which didn't trigger stomach churning nausea.

Still... best laid plans, huh?

With the end of the Jeff Coburn Doctor nigh, the production team decided to make no mention or advertisements of the upcoming regeneration, so as keep the ending a surprise for as many people as possible. Exactly WHO would be fooled by this was never established, given Coburn's compulsion to tell everyone he was quitting since 1998 so that everyone who knew of the SCADs' existence knew that Coburn would be gone by 2000, regardless of whether his last season was completed or not.

Luckily, due to Sheri Divine's vice-like grip on the metaphorical testicles of the production schedule meant that his fourth and final season would be completed well before the new millennium. Unless you're one of those subnormal freaks who thinks the century starts with 2000 instead of 2001 anyway. Work on Coburn's final story kicked off by contacting Coburn's favorite writer, Paul Ebbs, to write this regeneration saga.

Ebbs came up with a story entitled Epsilon-Gamma-Delta-Zeta-Sigma-Plus-One-Minus-Omega-Bravo-Charlie-Tea-Kettle-Barbecue, whereupon the Doctor and Christine discovered that the Dustbin Umpire had managed to survive their ultimate destruction and wield the ultimate weapon, the Grime Disruptor, which they would use to scrub Chris out of existence. The mortally wounded Doctor would maroon the Dustbins on a quarry planet, escape in his crippled TARDIS, have an LSD flashback and regenerate into a bearded jerk.

However, Producer Douglas Phillips and Script Editor Thomas Himinez were becoming increasingly insecure and anxious about Ebbs' natural talent and overall professionalism. Despite submitting the script to the first episode of EGDZSP1MOBCTKB only two days are being commissioned to write the story, Ebbs was told be had already missed several deadlines that Phillips and Himinez had 'forgotten' to tell him or anyone else about.

When Ebbs demanded to know what the hell they thought they were doing, he found himself fired on the spot and EGDZSP1MOBCTKB completely abandoned. Ebbs snapped that when Joe "Why Yes, Trods ARE Made Of Awesome!" Medina was script editor true writing talent was appreciated, prompting Phillips to exile Ebbs from the SCADs for ever. Never again would they use him for writing stories or even acknowledge his existence. Ebbs snapped that he'd create his OWN spin-off Doctor Who Audio Dramas of such unimaginable brilliance and intensity it would make the SCAD production teams' brains bleed at the magnificence of them.

"In fact," Ebbs then added, "here's some I prepared earlier!" and hurled a pile of Season 2.7 CDs at everyone, the shattering plastic cases causing hideous facial lacerations and severing many arteries. He stormed off, never to be seen again. Not that anyone had seen him before hand. Hell, I'm just typing this up, I have no proof he actually exists. This is all just empirical poppycock!

With Andrew Beeblebrox having returned to the land down under where women blow and men plunder, the only other writer available was John S. Drew, who was already in charge of two of the four stories in the production block. Thus, his ratio would have to rise to three of the four and they prayed that this sudden promotion would not cause another psychotic episode in Drew's inhuman brain.

Since the production of Radio Y2K, Drew had become fascinated with public access television and other such mid-90s anthropoid conceits. In particular he was curious about a particular holiday infomercial known as The Chronic Rift, which had nothing to do with temporal distortion caused by an imploding singularity but was instead a panel show of geeks discussing sci-fi-fantasy-horror comic strips about women with incredibly large breasts being sexually domination by robots called the Quirks.

Drew was unable to understand the logic behind this program (and to be fair, neither had the network, who cancelled the show right away), and assumed that it was his television at fault. His attempt to improve the 'primitive communications systems' of New York actually succeeded in creating a GENUINE Chronic Rift which left Drew seven years in the future for a period of six months before his temporal mass returned to the present.

In this nightmare hellhole of the future, Drew was alarmed to discover that not only did the "foreigners" of the planet Earth NOT trigger a thermonuclear war within the year, but also Doctor Who had returned to television along with a wealth of cash-in television spin offs like "The K9 Exploitation", "The Sarah-Jane Misadventures", "Rose Tyler: Chav Defense", "Sparrow & Nightingale: Cute Geeks Save The World", "The Family of Blood's Christmas Vacations", "Saxon Violence", "Keeping Up With The Joneses", "Mr. Copper and Mr. Mott Go Large" and worst of all... "Touchwood".

Drew considered the twenty-six episode saga of xenotech theft, non-consensual bondage three ways, pterodactyl torture, hardcore gas penetration, graphic stabbings, double entendres, supernatural pedophile murder, cannibalism, alien prostitution, cybernetic orgasm upgrades, Bowie tributes, 1944 period homoerotica, crack-crazed Ferrari-driving blowfish-headed alien tourists and repeated spiking of the Cardiff water supply with date-rape drugs "an unparalleled challenge to logic and any notion of reason in the universe". The fact the series had been renewed... TWICE... was "the worst of all waking nightmares made a living reality".

On the bright side, he could completely steal the plots, wait seven years and then sue BBC Wales for breach of copyright. Drew soon abandoned this plan... mainly because he would not sully his nine opposable digits with this trendie Joss-Whedon-aping dross.

As work began in earnest on The Cardiff Rift, Phillips began to complain that the storyline was becoming far too insular and unoriginal - featuring as it did the return of Dara, Mark, UNIT, the Dustbins, the Trods, the Bastard, the Snotarans, Milo Clancy, Hawk and the Saigon Palace II restaurant chain. Phillips wanted all stories from now on to be completely free of continuity, divorcing itself entirely from the rest of Doctor Who "unlike those Big Finish sluts", and become a chain of drab, self-contained, easily-forgettable stories with nothing interesting to prostitute itself for.

Drew - long used to having his stories being twisted and tormented into completely unrecognizable forms - silently agreed and changed all the recurring characters into pointless and unimaginative ciphers which had the curious effect of sidelining the Doctor and Chris for the entire story while focussing on a bunch of new characters who stood around bitching for up to forty minutes at a time not including cliffhanger reprises.

This story revolved around the character of Hawk from The Doomsday Single, who mugs Superman and discovers the Immensely Powerful Parallel Laxative (or Parallax for short). Hawk decides to destroy and then remake the entire universe so he will have never had to see Dara Hamilton naked. As events reached their climax, the universe would "fade out" and the story would demonstrate this by becoming softer and softer until the last few episodes were 25 minutes apiece of total silence. Phillips liked this idea, which would unify all the inconsistent timelines of the Whoniverse into a new one - the SCAD one!

In order to demonstrate this completely, the final episode would feature every single Doctor in existence - from the TV Series, the movies, Comic Relief, Big Finish, and even their bitter rival fan audios like the Oddly Visuals, Back Beyond To Traditional Reality Recognition and even Season 2.7 - thanks to Ebbs leaving free CDs all over the place!

However, a lot of the cast felt that this was detracting somewhat from the entropic temporal rifts of the story title and decided to sabotage production. By sabotaging the air conditioning, over the two weeks of production, the temperature in the recording studio climbed to 100 degrees Fahrenheit. Soon most of the actors and especially the script editor and executive producer were gripped by heat exhaustion. This allowed Coburn and his allies to swap the script for the earlier drafts.

This change would eventually be notices by the way that, between episodes, the name of The Touchwood Institute became "The Porlock Foundation" then "The Forge" then "The Glasshouse With Wil Anderson". Also on numerous occasions, Mark Tryhard was referred to as "Tom Jones The Gorilla Boy". Luckily Continuity Specialist Dustbin Laden happened to be under the influence of certain mind-altering substances and his drug-added senses were so keen at to notice the discrepancy.

Unfortunately he was so stoned he didn't mention this at the time and eventually contacted David Segal via ouiji board some two years later with these errors. David Segal considered reediting the story, but it was just far too much like hard work - which was why he wasn't executive producer, like Phillips who had noticed these goofs and decided he simply didn't care. He was far more concerned with the edit of the regeneration scene and had rejected the original material and the post-production editing on no less than two hundred and twenty six occasions... and demanded they be redone EVERY time.

This meant that Jeff Coburn was still recording his death scene in 2004, over three years after he had relinquished the role and indeed set his solicitors onto the SCADs, determined to destroy the organization, its members, and everything that it ever stood for.

Ultimately, The Cardiff Rift proved to be a low-key departure to the third SCAD incarnation of the Doctor - marking the end of an interesting parallel between character and actor: both were seemingly happy and jovial on the outside, but inside could be found torments that haunted each... particularly when surrounded by arrogant morons who bullied him into their incredibly cretinous plans.

A look back on the Jeffrey Coburn years would not find a renaissance for the show and an infusion of new blood that would help propel it to the top of the ratings amongst Doctor Who audio, but instead a bunch of people with actual talent meeting a bunch of insane amateurs and being told to sod off and leave them to their institutionalized obsession. It seemed that the Jeffrey Coburn era not only relied heavily upon what went before it, when in fact, it didn't. I didn't listen to previous one hundred and thirty stories and clearly neither did any of the writers. Instead, it actually took ideas planted as seeds during earlier parts of the show on TV and brought them to fruition with aplomb, while ignoring absolutely everything the SCADS had to offer.

It would have been interesting to see what would have happened had Coburn stayed longer, especially with his claims he would have murdered the producers, script editors and sound designers. From there it could only improve, no?

As the season closed, a new Doctor took the helm of the TARDIS, but had along with him team that had been with the series since the days of David Segal and before him David Segal in an unconvincing afro answering to the name of 'Vince Savage'. The development that had taken place during Jefrey Coburn's time would be seen to die horribly rather than continue into the Jym DeNatale era and beyond...

Finally, in an astonishing coincidence of such high improbability it could single-handedly support the entire concept of Intelligent Design single handed, the very day The Cardiff Rift was released onto the unsuspecting public, they were similarly assaulted by Madonna's first solo album of the decade to accompany her new movie (The Next Best Thing: Fag Hag 2000). The song, "Coburn Doctor" is incredibly reminiscent of the SCAD incarnation and makes absolutely no sense in any other possible context. Nevertheless, it STILL was a number one hit in Canada.

Anyone unaware of the SCADs and their history would, therefore, be completely and utterly baffled when, upon watching The Next Best Thing: Fag Hag 2000, the opening scene where Madonna and her friends are at a funeral for a friend, they suddenly begin to sing:

A long, long time ago,
(Actually 1993)
They finally told David Segal to shoo
And it was time a new guy had a turn
They chose a fellah called Jeff Coburn
And he became the New Doctor Who.

He likes to dress like a magician
His stories were new, unlike tradition
He claimed he had a shameful past
But he only told us for a laugh,

And I know that Dara lacked a soul
And Mark had no time for rock and roll
While Chris killed in blood that's cold
Crichton and UNIT sure got old
But it was bound to end some day.

Bye-bye, Coburn Doctor, goodbye
He closed the rift at Cardiff
When the end looked to be nigh
While Touchwood bitched and tried not cry
Guess this'll be the day that he'll die...
This'll be the day that he'll die!

On his first day the Bastard stole his bod
And used it to rule Gallifrey, the clever sod
But he underestimated the old regime.
And in Paris he found the pace rather hectic
Dara and Mark proved quite Euro-skeptic
When they defeated the French's evil scheme!

With UNIT he saved Earth from nuclear war
Stopped the Saigons when they began to bore
He gave Pewnack his just desert
And met a god called Albert!

And when the Dustbin Empire rose once more
They were actually more pathetic than ever before
Defeating them was hardly a chore
But it was bound to end some day.

Bye-bye, Coburn Doctor, goodbye
He closed the rift at Cardiff
When the end looked to be nigh
While Touchwood bitched and tried not cry
Guess this'll be the day that he'll die...
This'll be the day that he'll die!

An old pop song picked a fight
Autons and Trods turned up one night
With Cybs and Sontars, things sure looked bleak
But the day was saved, and the stakes got higher
The Doctor fell for a groupie vampire
And even Dara thought she was a freak

He fought Milo Clancy, Dustbins and Trods
He met his past selves who were such clods
While his future self was a twat
The latest Bastard was dumber than that!

So it was to Winterworld the TARDIS set sail
Where relationships between empires did fail
And then the finale came to Dara's tale,
But it was bound to end some day.

We were singin'
Bye-bye, Coburn Doctor, goodbye
He closed the rift at Cardiff
When the end looked to be nigh
While Touchwood bitched and tried not cry
Guess this'll be the day that he'll die...
This'll be the day that he'll die!

Well, Dara Hamilton got up the duff
And a polymorph in Dublin had had enough
So the Doctor went back to World War Two
And after fighting aliens and Nazis
He got a new companion called Christine
And then they visited the Dragon Chateau

In the 21st century everything is new
The Trods returned the way that they do
Southbank Caves were boring
And admission fees were soaring!

After four seasons of wanderlust
And we learned of script editors not to trust
The old Type 40 TARDIS was left to rust
But it was bound to end some day.

And I was singin'
Bye-bye, Coburn Doctor, goodbye
He closed the rift at Cardiff
When the end looked to be nigh
While Touchwood bitched and tried not cry
Guess this'll be the day that he'll die...
This'll be the day that he'll die!

We were singin'
Bye-bye, Coburn Doctor, goodbye
He closed the rift at Cardiff
When the end looked to be nigh
While Touchwood bitched and tried not cry
Guess this'll be the day that he'll die...
This'll be the day that he'll die!