Serial 8R – Schizo
An Alternative Program Guide by Ewen Campion-Clarke
Sixteenth Entry in the EC Unauthorized Program Guide O' Two Handers
And much thanks to Colin Campbell.
D O C T O R W H O
Serial 8R - Schizo -
Part One - Rejoicing. Not.
The TARDIS has entered a new universe, a plane undreamed of by mortal perceptions. And the Doctor's passed out in his own vomit after the 23rd tequila slammer.
Charley frantically tries to wake up him up as various alarms go off and a strange blackness begins to corrode the edges of the control room set. The Doctor recovers, having no real idea where or even who he is.
Charley frantically explains that the Doctor is a Time Lord and part time sci-fi TV star as a professor of quantumn mechanics and time-warp mutations.
The Doctor replies he has no idea what the blazes Charley's on about, but it sounds like a bunch of New Age crap.
Charley thus simplifies her explanation to the Doctor being a swollen-headed, conceited arsehole.
The Doctor asks Charley (or "you heap of ferret droppings" as he refers to her) what her name is and Charley is forced to explain the plot of the last two seasons, and the Doctor remarks that his life sounds like the waiting room of rehab-admittance.
Charley fears that the TARDIS cannot survive travelling through the mighty forces of spiritual energy that fill the new universe, and gets told by the Doctor to shut up or she too will become floating spiritual energy.
Already, the huge maze of corridors outside the control room is dissolving into nothingness, so the Doctor decides to jettison the diseased architecture and jump-start the TARDIS at the same time in a complicated maneuver he refers to as "Ctrl+Alt+Del".
Running out of time to save their miserable skins, the Doctor finds the huge TARDIS manual propping up a nude sculpture of Felicity Kendal and quickly begins to read it.
"Let's see... 'Congratulations on your purchase of the Type 40 commercial time travel capsule. If problems should occur with the lateral balance cones or you should have any complaints with temporal pressurization in general, please contact our home office in Southern Gallifrey, coordinates 04-41-76 by 09 from Galactic 0 Centre..."
"Skip a bit! Skip a bit! Time's running out! Get to the important part!"
After flipping through the pages, the Doctor discovers that all you have to do to gain control of the main drive is access panel 8S-44 and reverse the polarity of the neutron flow.
The Doctor checks the specifications and lures Charley to "8S-44" which looks suspiciously like the door control, telling Charley to activate it while he finds some where safe to hide.
Charley, while delighted at all the rather high-tech, super-cool stuff, is suspicious at the fact the control board she is using consists of a little light-up button marked 'OPEN/CLOSE'. The Doctor hastily explains that 'OPEN' refers to the activation of the drive system.
"Ah, yes," Charley replies, activating the scanner. "And such a scenic locale for such a handy little device. Right next to the scanner control. What a lovely day it is! Oh look, there's Wales and Cardiff and Beckett Street. Oh, and there's Mrs. Merrick walking her Pekinese. Hello, Mrs. Merrick! Yes, I was just saying, it is a lovely day! How is little Ciscero? Oh, getting his little ding-dong done up so as not to upset the other little lovelies in the neighbourhood in case he strays off, is he? Good! And how's your Pekinese? What you mean, "That's rather personal!"? Christ, someone would think you were hiding something, wouldn't they? Good, just bugger off then, ya fossil! And take your 'Magic-Mop' with you! That's right, we've known for quite some time that it's not a real dog!"
The frustrated Doctor urges her to press the red button, but Charley cannot believe the nerve of a respectable old woman whom she admires and tried to engage in polite conversation.
She then calls Mrs. Merrick 'an old bitch' and asking the Time Lord if it's illegal to contract a hitman out to a non-functional member of society these days.
"WHAT? Charley, we are in another universe! How is it that you can see Wales, let alone a 78 year old woman walking a dog and suddenly have a polite conversation with her at 100,000 000 feet from about 1800 billion parsecs away??!!?"
Lost for words, Charley looks at the scanner in desperation. "Oh, darn! Clouds just went over."
"DAMN IT, YOU BLOODY IMBECILE! Can't we get ANYTHING done around here without having to hear a commemorative collection, 17 volume set of your mindless drivel!" shouts the Doctor, pressing the button himself. "There! Now get out of–-"
The doors open and both the Doctor and Charley are sucked out of the TARDIS and the Doctor's plan for Charley to unintentionally commit suicide goes awry as they plunge into the darkness of this strange dimension.
As the final shreds of the TARDIS dissolve, the Doctor lands roughly in utter blackness. He concludes from this that he has died and is doomed forever to remain in his private little Hell.
However, has he has ensured he carried an unlimited supply of jelly babies about his person and so is unconcerned - until he realizes he's eaten all the orange ones. The Doctor screams "Damn it all! SHIT!" and breaks down in sobs.
Suddenly, he hears Charley's voice and this seems to confirm his eternal damnation.
As they finally reach each other, the Doctor complains that not even he deserves this. Charley points out that being stuck with each other in a pitch dark maze doesn't seem very realistic as hells go, and so they conclude that they are, in fact, still alive.
The Doctor tells Charley to stay where she is while he runs off in one direction so they don't get lost. Charley, however, quickly finds the Doctor, who tries to look of the bright side about their entombment on a lifeless planet in the middle of another universe.
Sadly, this is far more difficult than it appears and she idly wishes that they'd gone to a Guy Fawkes celebration at Ravenscourt Park.
Charley likes the idea of watching a municipal fireworks display, sitting by the open fire, toasting marshmallows, singing campfire songs, but the Doctor cuts through her ramblings, and coldly reminds her that she was banned from Ravenscourt Park by its keeper.
Charley believes that the park keeper was simply being vindictive - she didn't do anything wrong apart from set fire to the swans and she hardly calls that small prank a banning offence.
The judge, however, did - thanks to some impressive testimony from a certain Time Lord as chief witness.
With this particular conversation run its course, the two of them walk off into the endless night, when the Doctor trips over something.
Part Two - The Mutha
It was a wheelbarrow.
The Doctor and Charley walk in silence for some time, and the Doctor suddenly begins to croon the haunting love melody, "The Super-Slippery Fudge Fit".
At least until Charley smacks him in the mouth and demands to know how long they've been silent, and is amused when the Doctor says it's been half an hour.
Charley explains that they have been walking for six months, totally ignoring her companion's protests that he's been counting his heartbeats and it's definitely just thirty two minutes.
It is at this point they find a hideously mutilated corpse that has scrawled out in its own blood the word "Whitnail".
It quickly becomes apparent that they are not alone on the mysterious planet - clearly it is shared by the as-yet-unseen alien mutation with a critical atomic mass.
Charley wonders how big such a mutation could be - one or two perhaps even THREE apples high?
The Doctor deduces from the footprints and bloodstains that it is at least seventy feet.
"Three apples high with seventy feet!" exclaims Charley, "Must be a quick little bugger!"
Charley decides they must do their duty in the new universe and control the situation, despite the threat of the creature's machete-like claws.
The Doctor reminds Charley they have no weapons of any kind. However it is all academic as the creature is almost certainly stalking them and is trying to understand their final bantering with a glimpse of them depositing a much browner representation of that morning's kippers into the lower half of their clothes.
Suddenly, the maze ends, revealing a ruined city, with broken sky scrapers and wrecked streets.
A billboard advertisement for a toothpaste called Target with a large bullseye has been used as a makeshift dartboard with the needle-tipped fighter-planes acting as darts.
Whatever has torn apart this city is clearly looking for a vast amount of alcohol - as evidence by the demolition of the Tizermakuru Monitika asa Komitakon building, presumably under the mistaken belief there was Tizer hidden somewhere within.
Suddenly, the monster makes itself apparent:
It's Richard E. Grant...
Part Three - Breaking The Fruit-Loop
The Doctor would, all in all, rather keep looking in the hope there might be some other creature responsible for the destruction, an adjacent, prehistoric reptile or insect, for example.
Charley does not share his artistic frustration, and can't see anything wrong with facing off with their evil bastard lovechild.
The Time Lord however, doesn't want to be associated with REG. "Look at him! He's a disgrace! It's not really a potential, shining moment in the history of this universe to be affiliated with, now, is it?"
"Well, he IS destroying the planet in quite a hurry, isn't he?"
"Yes, but... mmmmmm He's not QUITE the mythological standard you might expect from a pan-dimensional mutant freak (personally, I don't think he's going to work out)."
At this point, the Doctor and Charley simply sit back, legs crossed in a contemplative position, chewing their fingernails like some theatre producers or directors.
Charley quickly deduces that the Doctor would prefer something with a little more 'zing' for his dollar.
"I don't think that Kroll's due back in this universe until February. And Garm's in Betelguise for three months doing a rampage for a Throxillian community production."
"That's a step down, isn't it?"
"Apparently he's getting back to some proverbial roots. A bit of soul searching, so to speak."
"Well, good for him, unfortunate for our causes, though. Wasn't Lew Grade planning a series of appearance in the Western Galaxy in a double-billing with Paddington Bear?"
"Yes, Bear hasn't actually been in the spotlight for quite some time now. Not since those falling-outs with the American Galactic Technocratic Federation Of Pure Evil And Greed. I think Grade is repaying an old favor for him, in that he's offering a mention on the Marquee. I think he's only playing three solar systems with him in Cassiopea. Bit of a heart condition now, these days, last legs for him, sadly, yes."
"Taking some time off now - retreated back to the peanut of Spiridon for an aeon, but I suspect they'll be back for the last run of Eccleston's new season. Troopers they are, always career first. Well, those were all our options. Think we can work with what we've got?"
"I think he has some great potential - not quite a show-stopping giant gillamation, but maybe, with some time... What do you think we should call him? Vagranteon?"
The two finally decide on "Vomitron" when drinking a lake's worth of lighter fluid has the curious effect on R.E.G., er, "Vomitron".
However, by the time they've settled on a moniker for their foul offspring, it has wiped out the last survivors of the indigenous life-form and is now cruising for chicks amongst the ruins.
Depressed, Charley considers simply dropping their uncertain moral ground and just joining the monsters once and for all.
She wants to just sod it all and join the universal council for death and destruction and all the cash, booze and sex-crazed interns that comes with it.
The Doctor agrees, but reminds her that they are stuck in a completely different universe with sod all to help them against the encroaching "Vomitron."
"I mean," the Doctor continues. "Is it... us? Are we... y'know... EVIL?!!"
"I don't follow you, Doctor."
"I mean cuh-mon, Charley! We're always ill-intentioned about our plans. And they never-EVER seem to come out right, do they? Maybe we were never intended to be 'sneaky bastards'! I bet if, just for once, if we went into a situation on our best behavior, worked hard at it, and no funny business... we could probably come out ahead! Mind you, it might take a few tries!"
"You think so?"
"Yes! Slow and steady win the race and all that shit."
"And when do you feel this golden opportunity might arrive? Before or after they sift our remains out of the gigantic mutant turd?"
The Doctor realizes that they are still doomed and demands to know why Charley is still in such high-spirits. She thinks of it this way: if the people of this dimension live fuller, richer lives on account of their sacrifice, they will have done their part for the cosmos.
However, when pressed, Charley admits that all she can really think is "SHIT! BLOODY HELL, NO! I WANT OFF! HELP! HELP! JEEPERS H. CHRIST ALMIGHTY!!! HELLLLLLLLLLP!" but her first statement still stands and she plans to somehow, someway defeat "Vomitron" the way it deserves.
They head for the giant "Vomitron" where the Doctor insists that if Charley can guess his lucky number, that means fate wants them to run for their lives and hide.
However, she doesn't guess 9A-76.7872343687625 right away, suggesting that they are well and truly doomed...
Part Four - Pollution
The Doctor and Charley find a battered old shuttle in working condition and the Doctor suggests they use it in their battle against "Vomitron" but is dismayed to discover there are no weapons aboard the shuttle, not even laser-gun-sights or machine gun turrets!
This is because the ship was not a futuristic, death-star space rocket but instead the seniors' transit from a retirement home to Akizum and back three days a week.
A fully-armed, flying death-machine is totally unnecessary for taking old people out for their physical therapy to clinics - indeed, the most advanced technology aboard the craft is an inoperable, in-flight pay-phone (with several components missing due to improper installation) and about two dozen empty electric bib dispensers.
Foolishly, the Doctor points out a lever that starts the engines and with a shout of "Banzai" Charley sets the shuttle hurtling up into orbit.
The shuttle levels off at 10 thousand feet and the Doctor berates Charley for lack of traditional space cadet etiquette called a "countdown".
Depressed, the Doctor wishes he could have been accompanied by a handsomer, beefier, more canonical companions. However, each one has its faults.
Steven Taylor boasted a silicon chin and his biceps were mail-ordered - the Doctor found the plain brown wrapper in the bin next to some of Mike Yates' sheared nylons. Yates wears them because he has a foot fetish and he likes to look at himself without having to take his stockings off.
Polly raided the wine cellar late at night when the TARDIS Crew were asleep, and the Doctor found her passed out at four in the morning on the basement floor, having gone through two crates of cooking sherry and a half a bottle of almond extract.
Turlough fancied Nyssa, and when the Doctor spied on them during their secret stay at a country-inn in Martinque, he was taken aback when Hex turned up.
And he doesn't even want to think about what Adric and K9 got up to.
The Doctor however, quickly becomes annoyed when he realizes that Charley's "steering" of the shuttle is a ridiculous charade - they're travelling on a pre-programmed trajectory course which is impossible to change. Even the steering mechanism isn't attached to the controls! Charley was trying to capture a sort of Roger Moore "Moonraker" feel about the situation.
With no time left to change for the better or abandon ship, the Doctor and Charley hurtle towards REG, who shouts indistinguishable obscenities at the tiny buzzing ship.
As the Doctor and his offspring exchange furious drunken discourse, Charley notices that their combined activities have already ruined an expensive hotel.
She decides to lead him out of the city and away from all the innocent people, through the business district, down the freeway access, through the high class, middle-class and lower-class suburbs, past a Gothic Revival church and out via a district comprised entirely of orphanages, pre-schools and petting zoos.
However, the drunken "Vomitron" knocks down four sky-scrapers; crushes several moving cars as he moves about on the freeway complex and destroys part of that too; tramples several expensive homes, crushes non-expensive houses and recreates a stock-clip scene from Shogun; crushes a lavish cathedral; then, in a drunken stupor, collapses on the final district and destroys everything.
The Doctor takes a look at the trail of rubble, flame, smoke and debris leading back into the heart of the city, a path of lengthy destruction caused entirely by Charley and REG.
He then decides to write a legendary ballad about himself, a harrowing spiritual melody snappily entitled "And That Doctor He Did Save Them All From The Dreaded Monster's Tyranny".
Charley, meanwhile, has come up with a cunning plan: they will set the automatic controls to collide the shuttle with REG's head while she and the Doctor escape via the ejector seats.
There is, however, a small problem.
While the eject rockets on the chairs work perfectly, the ceiling doesn't open up - so the Doctor and Charley are banged against the hard metal roof continually, like human pogo sticks, until they are flung into the controls, changing the course and jamming the shuttle into the ear of their huge, radioactive son.
A dazed REG rips it out and shakes it, cracking a fuel line and inexplicably flooding the cockpit with Guinness rather than your run-of-the-mill rocket fuel.
The Doctor and Charley escape from the open parachutes as REG pops the cockpit and pours the contents down his throat.
Our heroes are swept out of the ship with the rest of the liquor and falls into REG's giant mouth...
After a caption reading "SCENE MISSING", the Doctor, Charley and their normal-sized child are returning to REG's TARDIS, commenting on how lucky it was that the precise mixture of hops and alcohol undid REG's atomic mutation at the hands of his robotic Bastard butler, and managed to save all three of them in an unbelievingly contrived fashion.
The Doctor and Charley are heading off, but REG wants them to have a last drink with a bottle stolen from the Bastard's supplies.
However, the 53 Margaux proves not enough to detain the time travelers, who are determined to avoid this gooseberry as soon as possible.
The duo duck into the TARDIS, heading for a new world to see if something remotely interesting might happen there.
REG watches it vanish, swigs down the whole bottle in one go, slurs a bit of Shakespeare, then falls flat on his arse and is copiously and violently sick.