Wednesday, December 2, 2009

8th Doctor - The Time of the Daleks

Serial 8K – Dustbin Umpire IV: The Rhyme of the Dustbins
An Alternative Program Guide by Ewen Campion-Clarke
Twelfth Entry in the EC Unauthorized Program Guide O' Funky Robots
Dustbin lyrics supplied from the IA "Altered State".

D O C T O R W H O

Serial 8K – Dustbin Empire IV: The Rhyme of the Dustbins -

Part One - Baby Fearing

A Dalek saucer malfunctions in orbit around Earth and is forced to land for not only repairs but also because they are fresh out of Shake'N'Vac.

The Dustbin squad glide out to loot a 7/11, but soon meet a figure in gleaming yellow suit.

The Dustbins realize that they have arrived in Stanes and they are at the mercy of Sasha Cohen's evil counterpart - Ali G...

Life doesn't seem to be able to get any worse for the Doctor. Charley, who is as big as a house, is redecorating the TARDIS in a disgusting shade of puce and turning the mirror-ball in the console room into a baby's mobile.

All the Doctor can do is sit in front of the TV and just hope he wakes up soon.

Nevertheless, he is forced to become involved when his pregnant girlfriend threatens to name their child Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart.

After three solid days of argument, the Doctor decides to compromise with 'Ali G', but the reference is lost on Charley - not surprisingly, since she was born seventy years too early for the Nice Jewish Boy/Gangsta Rapper Badass phase.

Since Ali G is about the only relevant and/or interesting person in the entire universe that the Doctor has yet to pester the life of, the TARDIS immediately heads for downtown to meet the man himself.

Barely has Charley manage to squeeze her belly out of the TARDIS then they are taken by a strange man Dave to a disco, where Ali G is reputed to be doing part-time DJ-ing. However, he is gone, and the mood is civilized, cultured and, above all, clean.

Just then, the new janitors of the disco, The Dead Lemming, are revealed to be Dustbins. Charley immediately takes a liking to the robotic racists and asks if she can keep one for the baby.

The Doctor is livid, determined to find out just why the Dustbins are at the most happening scene ever. The Dustbins quite calmly reply that they venerate Ali G and the way he 'scratches' records. Dave backs up their statements and hands around some E.

The Doctor vows to find out the true reason of why the hell the Dustbins are going round reciting Public Enemy lyrics and trying to do Michael Jackson moonwalks, but it quickly becomes apparent he is just hanging around single bars getting pissed and trying to pick up chicks.

Charley responds by her own "sleuthing technique" - sitting on top of Puff Daddy and chatting up both him and his date, Julie.

After three hours of this, the doors to the club burst open to reveal an army of (well, three more) Dustbins, who begin to grate out "Amazing Stanes"...

Part Two - Loo Brothers

The Dustbins receive standing ovations - bar Charley, who can barely stand upright due her ever-expanding womb, and the Doctor, who can barely stand upright due to those last eighteen banana daiquiris.

As Dave decides to give the Dustbins pride of place in the next rap tournament - and the Dustbins agree, exterminating Eminem for no other reason than he was looking at them funny.

From his bar stool, the Doctor mocks the Dustbins; they used to be determined to conquer the entirety of all created universes, enslave and destroy every living being and keep the galaxy clean and tidy - now they're just saying words that rhyme if you pronounce them wrong.

The Dustbins takes this amazingly personally and retire to one side of the Dead Lemming to confer.

It is true that that they've changed their usual pattern of conquering planets and destroying non-Dustbin life-forms, but they weren't actually getting much done in that department, were they?

It was right they turned their hand to something they were actually good at and not built for by a mad, one-eyed, one-armed cripple who couldn't even control his own sphincter, let alone Mutter's Spiral! And here they are appreciated, encouraged and have a chance of a nifty merchandizing deal.

Indeed, like the Emperor Dustbins' last poetry slam, "Ode to Dustbin Death Ray Ice Creams", the only sensible course of action if one wants to control the universe is to get so rich you just buy it!

The Doctor shakes his head at this discourse, grumbling that the Dustbins used to be cool and idly wonders if there are any Yeti hell-bent on galactic conquest.

At that moment, he groans, moans and clutches his stomach. Charley, who has been complaining of stomach aches since she took that yard glass of tequila, wonders if her Time Lord lover might be having sympathy pains.

The earthquake fart the Doctor releases dispels that theory damn quick as the Time Lord flees straight for the gents and dives into the one working cubicle.

Julie notes that the last time she saw her boyfriend Ali G, a similar thing sent him running to the toilet. Charley absorbs this information and ponders on it for a full five minutes before suspecting that the Dusbtins have spiked the Doctor's prawn vindaloo.

Dave insists that ALL prawn vindaloos do that, and insists that the Doctor's sudden disappearance has absolutely nothing al all to do with the fifteen hundred empty packets of Lax-O 400 in the alley outside.

In the toilet, the Doctor and an unknown fellow in the next cubicle grunt and heave in the thrall of unearthy power. After the first few hours, they pass pleasantries, remark on some of the more interesting graffiti and play "I Spy".

The Doctor suspects that the Dustbins might be behind this particular bowel irritant on the logical argument that they've been giving him the shits for the last 800 years, after all.

The mysterious other (no, not THAT other) agrees that one should never trust squeegee-wielding robots in ANY circumstances, Dustbins or not.

The Doctor caustically remarks that this is a real newsflash.

Outside, Charley complains of feeling a curious sensation - like her entire abdomen is throbbing and ready to burst to disgorge the hideous creature inside - but just puts it down to some of the tablets Dave has been frantically slipping into her drink in the vain hope she'll pass out. Julie suggests that the drugs have in fact been going straight to Charley's unborn child and will probably make it the most spaced-out creature in history. Frankly, judging the parentage of the being in question, the drugs will probably make it more well-adjusted.

Suddenly, Charley clutches her belly and screams in absolute agony...

Part Three - Slimmer Trimmer

Dave and Julie manage to lift Charley to reveal the cause of this abominable abdominal pain is Puff Daddy - having been trapped under her buttocks for the majority of episode two, he has been desperately trying to signal for help and resorted to sinking his teeth into Charley's lower back.

Revolted and turned off sex for life, Puff Daddy vows to live a life of chastity and peace in Nepal. At least, that's what he tells everyone as he gets into his hooker-filled limousine and hurtles off to Los Angeles at top speed.

Since Charley is now upright, the Dustbins arrive and place her under arrest. The rap contest isn't on for a day or so and they don't know what to do apart from attempt to conquer the solar system. As such, they have decided to create a new type of music - Dustbin Rap - which can instantly apply the Dustbin factor to a human's brain simply by listening to it.

In order to speed up the subjugation of mankind, they have enlisted Ali G as a figurehead. The universe will be made tidy and cleaned compulsively and the Dustbins will become the ultimate rappers in all of history!

Charley points out that half the fun of winning a rap contest is beating the horde of subhuman monsters who couldn't rhyme "arse" with "elbow" if they tried. The Dustbins tell her to shut up.

Back in the gents the Doctor and the other are still crapping everything that they'd ever eaten. The Doctor remarks that, all in all, this is quite new to him - he's had over 200 adventures that followed the same basic pattern and even Stephen Gallager weirdness didn't leave him trapped in a toilet with near-fatal laxative poisoning.

The other points out that this might be a good way to lose weight and they ponder on the possible marketing ploys on the obesity of the 21st century.

The Doctor however, is grim, and explains that his dimensionally-transcendental bowels are now sucking huge streams of puterspace and pumping them into the toilet bowl. There is a very real possibility if this diarrhea continues, all of space and time might be endangered.

"Really?" asks the other, shocked.

"No, not really," sighs the Doctor.

Part Four - The Rhyme of the Dustbins

The night of the rap extravaganza has arrived, and the Dustbin Emperor is overjoyed that its plan to simply wait around and live a swinger lifestyle until the opportunity to enslave the universe tuned up at that door has worked.

The Emperor decides that it is time to reveal the full extent of the Dustbin's Master Plan and realizes that Charley has already been told about it and thinks that confining a vital part of the plan to the toilet with another vital part of the plan is particularly twisted and they've pretty much wasted the last four episodes.

"FOOL!" grates the Emperor. "You do not yet comprehend the subtle cunning of the Dustbin's ultimate end! Any information the Doctor has ascertained will now be utilized into the perfect way to defeat us! In fact, Zeg over there is running a sweepstake over if the polarity of neutron flow will be involved. All the smart money is on said flow being reversed, but I have have gone for the phrase "Oh I will explain later" being used at 10 to one! The Doctor's plan would certainly stop us - but we are not really working to that plan. He will be taken completely by surprise as we become the Masters of Rhyme. We are the Masters of Rhyme! We are the MASTERS of RHYME! WE ARE THE MASTERS OF RHYME! WE ARE THE MASTERS OF RHYME! WE ARE THE MASTERS OF RHYME! WE ARE THE MASTERS OF RHYME! WE ARE THE MASTERS OF RHYME! WE ARE THE MASTERS OF RHYME!"

"No," Charley sighs, "you're just saying the same thing over and over again. That's not rhyming, that's repetition. Surely Ali G should have mentioned that?"

"Oh, what does HE know?"

"More than you think!" shouts a new voice as the Doctor and Ali G stumble awkwardly from the gents, having sacrificed their trousers for the greater good.

The Doctor announces that he has worked out the obvious solution to their obvious plan and is now doing the complete opposite of this - to which the Dustbins reply they KNEW he was going to do that, and so they are working on the original plan of Dustbin Rap and thus will win.

The Doctor retorts that they are doing exactly what he expects them to do and has anticipated this.

The Dustbins reply they are merely playing along, as the Doctor is obviously just stalling for time.

The Doctor insists he has already won and is simply trying to be modest about it.

At this Charley sides with the Dustbins and decides that the Doctor is clearly lying - modesty is alien to Time Lord nature.

The Emperor explains that due to some funky time-travel, this entire bewildering conversation is, historically, the event which allows the Dustbins to take over all history.

The Doctor suggests that the Emperor believes that because of the sheer efficiency of the Doctor's temporal manipulation and is ignorant of his total downfall.

After fifteen minutes of such dialogue, the Emperor threatens to exterminate Charley and slaughter the Doctor's unborn child.

The Time Lord replies this would be a pretty cool development and the Emperor, believing the Time Lord is quadruple-bluffing, shoots ITSELF through the head.

As bits of bonded polycarbide armor and roasted Distbun mutant drip from the floor, Charley complains that she now has the uncontrollable desire to, in her words, "drop a load".

The Dustbins immediately revert to programming and begin to clean up her broken waters - but she's making more mess faster than they can clean it up. With the last vestiges of their former lives rendered useless, they turn to the Doctor and Ali G for guidance.

Ali G berates the Dustbins for not appreciating the art of playing music, and, for some reason, the evil homicidal aliens bow down before him, desperate for mercy.

They vow to aid Ali G in his quest to make the Earth a better place and never get involved with dirty people ever again.

The Doctor realizes that he has finally defeated the Dustbin menace FOREVER - and all of it's down to Charley's brilliant acting skills as she fakes going into labor. The Time Lord is all for celebrating with Julie when she points out that Charlie most likely ISN'T seeking attention and really IS about to give birth.

And the Doctor doesn't know what to do about it.

Quelle surprise.

Book(s)/Other Related –
Doctor Who da Helpless by Ali G
Doctor Mysterio el loco Disco de Dust
"What to Expect When Dustbins are Trying to Rule the Universe: Book 3 (Preggers Pollard and the DJ Dustbins)" by Snoop Doggy Dog


Fluffs - Paul McGann was keeping it real for this story


Goofs –
The Doctor is utterly paranoid that Ali G being removed from history will mean that the British film industry will collapse.


Fashion Victims –
Charley's lemon maternity slacks

Ali G. Enough said.

The Dustbins wearing high collars and gold chains, sun glasses and various jewelry saying 'WESTSIDE'


Technobabble –
Gangstarap can be measured in Respec.


Links and References -
The Doctor mentions absolutely everyone he has ever met who did not seem to know of or care about Ali G.


Untelevised Misadventures -
The Doctor once met a strange moustached man called Borat from Kazakhstan, kidnapped him, and let him loose on uncivilized worlds. The Time Lord lives in mortal terror of the time Borat will raise an invincible army of blancmanges and hunt him throughout time and space, until revenge is satisfied and Borat will bathe in Gallifreyan blood. Well, it is hard to hear what he is saying. He could just be talking about Charley Pollard.


Groovy DVD Extras -
A scrapped skit from The Ali G Show wherein Ali interviews the Bastard about his sexual relationship with Jo Grant and begins a rapping version of "I Am The Bastard".


Dialogue Disasters -

The Doctor on the defeat of his oldest foes -
"Why didn't I ever think of doing that? DAMN IT, I JUST LOVE ALI G!!"


The scene where the Doctor enters the toilet -
Doctor: Hello, is anyone in there?
Ali G: Fraid so, my man.
Doctor: But the sign on the door says 'Out of Order'.
Ali G: Not as out ov order as I is! [farting noise]


Dave: Oh ma gawd, dem fings are comin straight for us!
Doctor: Don’t panic.
Announcer: And now, Dustbin Springfield will sing 'I will survive'.
Doctor: Panic. PANIC!


The truly disgusting final verse -
Dustbins: Then came the Doctor and ruined all our fun
He said, "go away or I'll blow up your sun"
Lavros asked him back to his place
And then the Doctor...
Charley: Do not finish that sentence, I beg you!


Doctor: Think of your worst nightmare, think of the most repellent disgusting nauseating thing you can possibly imagine, think of pure evil made malignant flesh.
Ali G: Is that what your girlfriend's like?
Doctor: No, she's a thousand times worse.


Julie: It's hard to take seriously a xenophobic cyborg warrior that resembles a trash can.


Dialogue Triumphs -

A Dustbin singing The Ballad of the Blind when Ali G shoots off its eyestalk:
"The sun is shining brightly
But the world is dark and dim
I wait and sing politely
But the end outlook is grim
I long for sight
With all my might
I wish to fight –
For light, for light!
But no! Alas, it came to pass
I look out through a shattered glass!
Calamity! My eye stick is ensnared!
I cannot see, my vision is impaired."


Charley: It's not like Daleks are going killing anyone.
Doctor: No it isn't and that's what worries me most.
Charley: Why?
Doctor: Like I can strut around the cosmos boasting to be the ultimate enemy of a bunch of rubbish bins who would rather have a poetry slam than try and conquer the universe? Not to mention the ratings!


Dave: Der fing abowt Public Enemy is dat dey can make anyfin sound
political. "Humpty Dumpty, e fell ovva wall... Humpty Dumpty, e adda grate fall. Who pushed him? Da goverment! Yeah!"


When introducing Charley -
Ali G: Dis is your punani?
Doctor: Sadly, yes.
Ali G: And youz is haight undred hand fifty?
Doctor: Fraid so.
Ali G: And she is preggers?
Doctor: Evidently.
Ali G: [impressed] Respec!


Doctor: Ah, you see Charley. A karaoke bar.
Charley: What's that, then, Doctor?
Doctor: A Japanese word. Karoke, roughly translated, means...
Charley: 'Drunken businessman'?
Doctor: Well, yes. Very good.


The Dustbin Town rap -
"We're keen *muthas* from the edge o' space:
Ex-ter-min-at-ors o' the whole Dull race!
So why do we live in a bleak *bad* place?
Pure nost-algia for the good old days!

Ooo chugga shish shish, wap bam Fargo!

Stone gray forests and the *chill* rad-clouds,
Crumbled cities are the Distbuns' shrouds!
Home reminds us of the *death* o' races,
Coz ex-ter-min-ation leaves no traces!

Ee chagga shash shash, wip bom Fargo!"


Ali G: Ow can youze do dese fings? Youze are wreckin lives, ma little tinny friends. Youze may make a fings clean, but do youze make a fings happy? I is havin dis dream: of white girls and black girls playin wiv each other. Togevver, we can make it happen!
Dustbins: YES, ALI. WE CAN MAKE IT HAPPEN!
Ali G: Arright?
Dustbins: ARRIGHT!
Ali G: Respec!


The Dustbin brainwashed by Ali G in the last episode -
Dustbin: Chugga woa, chugga wugga woa!
We sing to those who will not see
The great Dustbin destiny!
We cry for those who will not congratulate
Us as we exterminate!
Chugga woa, chugga woa, vim wom Fargo!


Doctor: Come on, we're all Mannilow fans here, aren't we?


Dusbtin: We can do worse than what you've seen
Each a perfect cleaning machine
Thanks to Lavros, we've a gene
That makes us really, really mean
But we can still just be keen
On among things such as hygiene
Though we have no teeth to clean
We can still help each other preen.


Ali G: Slip dooie, slip dooie, wiggle that squeegee.


UnQuotable Quote -

Dustbin: Puff Daddy must be exterminated!


Viewer Quotes -

"Wow! I wonder just who the Doctor is going to face in this new adventure? Damn that title, it's too smegging cryptic for me!"
- Andrew Beeblebrox (2001)

"Dustbins. Rapping. With Ali G. Fuck this for a game of soldiers."
- Terry Nation (1978)

"Hmm. If *I* were the one sorting out Big Finish stories, I would have named this story "Bakow!" in honor of Ali G's aborted movie project, and also hide the main identity of the enemy. Hell, I'd scrap the Dustbins and give Ali G an alien ally worthy of him: the Quirks!!!"
- The Creator of the Quirks (2004)


"Hearing Dustbins quote Snoop Doggy Dog is a surreal experience, and works well to spook any casual watchers. Hah. It's ours! ALL OURS!"
- Ian Levine (2003)

"Stargate (SG-1) did this story much better in their seminal piece "The G'ould Get Funky" episode."
- Dave Restal (2001)

"It was halfway through the well judged second episode that I realised that I was disappointed with every single McGann story and I now firmly believe you need to have to give up Doctor Who and get a friggen life!"
- Tony Blair (2004)


Psychotic Nostalgia -
"A lot of people think that Dustbins deserve their own series. A lot of people are only around to be eaten, so that's that. But I have had concrete evidence from my alien pen pal that if the Dustbins ever get their own show, it'll rate so well it will force Doctor Who to be cancelled. And there aren't enough wicker men to put things right! At least, not NOW..."


Paul McGann Speaks!
"I've never been a fan of the Dustbins but I agreed to do just one on the agreement it would be an original and highly plot-driven stories that only used Dalek history where it helped the overall plot. Did they listen to me? Did they fuck. In fact, the only aspect of The Rhyme of the Daleks that is not stolen from past Dalek stories is the Ali G element and that could have been completely dropped without changing the plot much at all. What there was of it. I remember asking Richards why the hell he was so desperate to have Dustbins rapping - I mean, yes it IS weird and creepy. In fact, it's SO weird and creepy it's a good enough reason NOT to do it. Still, good luck to him and his Broadway musical about the life of Darth Vader. Of course, I don't REALLY, but I know how violent the bloke can get. I remember when we were reading the script and the Dustbins had explained their evil master plan, India asked simply "Why?" I can still hear the screams..."


India Fisher Speaks!
"I can't really comment on the plot of The Rhyme of the Dustbins. To comment on the plot, you need to have understood it all, to have savored it, to have mulled over all the events and then make a decision whether it was good or bad. I haven't a clue what all that stuff with the karioke was about, but neither does anyone else. And why can't Doctor Who leave Ali G alone? Over the course of the series, the poor sod has been spied upon by the First Doctor, been
kidnapped by aliens, has been namedropped by the Doctor at almost any opportunity and has now been kidnapped by people from the future as they try and prevent robotic aliens from blasting him out of existence. Come on everybody, give the poor guy a break!"


Trivia -
This the only story that explicitly refers to the horrific events of The Enema Within. After a particularly nasty bout of diarrhea, the Doctor gasps, "Now I know how the poor Bastard felt!" The fact it acknowledges the TV Movie really gives The Rhyme of the Dustbins that extra layer of meaty crap.


Rumors & Facts -
The title of this story suggests that the Dustbins here are the awful, poetry-spouting versions of Whitaker's TV stories and that this will be a completely stupid and annoying story.

They are and - boy! - it's worse!

Overall, it's one of those stories where, at the end, you just sort of say, "Give me strength". On the one hand, Justin Richards is right -- Dustbins quoting Ali G is just so brain-twistingly wrong that it does lend the story a certain surrealist charm.

On the other hand, having a story with nothing BUT quotes it's hard to avoid getting sick of the author and everyone involved.

The Rhyme of the Dustbins is the most incomprehensible, boring, mind-numbing story I've ever witnessed.

Words fail me at its sheer inadequacy.

*I feel dirty!*

The writers of the new series congregated late in 2000 in the sacrosanct dungeons of Big Finish Productions and were quickly tormented into creating a story arc.

Russell decided to get them all together and tie them up - however, the writers all assumed he was talking about plot threads rather than bondage games, at which point they all started to overlap.

Justin Richards never made any secret of the fact he wanted to write an adventure starring the Dustbins. In fact, so desperate was he for this that he was known as 'Dust Boy' at the overnight lockups where he is regularly held on weekends.

He also insisted that his scripts for Paul McGann's Doctor were the best the series had seen and therefore he should be the one to write the all-star Paul McGann/Dustbin extravaganza Gay Russell had been prepared to think about considering to make since 1999.

The story, tentatively entitled Rhyme of the Dustbins before its radical renaming of The Rhyme of the Dustbins, originally fitted into the story arc with the Doctor tricking his enemies into destroying Earth before life began. True, this stuffed up recorded history and made plenty of future BF stories impossible, but it did resolve the Charley arc with a minimum of fuss.

However, India Fisher's fan club (at the time a mere 87 thousand members strong) made it quite clear that if Russell wished to live another day, he would keep Charley in the series.

With this restriction made clear, Gay Russell provided Richards with several pounds of cocaine, an ouiji board and a cattle prod and the latter promptly 'jumped at the chance' by going to sleep.

The next day, Richards promptly handed over a 30-word essay about why the BBC Books range and proper Doctor Who needed to roll around in the hay for a bit, and why nothing he wrote had to tie up and fit together nicely, and this also applied to his profitable shoemaking business.

Richards admitted that this might seem bizarre and this impression was confirmed when all the other writers began to back away from him in terror.

He then drew a doodle of a Dustbin cleaning a corridor while a mysterious yellow-clad figure scratched a record beside it.

Believing this to be an astonishingly detailed and accurate story synopsis, Big Finish Productions dragged the hung over Paul McGann, the bloated India Fisher, three sad fans in realistic Dustbin outfits and sent them into a disco where Ali G was due to make an appearance.

McGann was not in the best of conditions and, during a scratching competition, actually started to smash cocktail glasses against his forehead to block out the noise.

Director Nicholas Briggs was caught up with a Lithuanian prostitute and so decided to keep filming on the basis 'method acting' was very good. He also decided to cast said prostitute as Ali G (who, having heard of the presence of the Doctor Who crew, had fled in terror) and cast himself as Julie in the firm belief that if a teenage girl could play a pre-pubescent boy, a 40-year old balding Dustbin fetishist could play a teenage girl.

The sad Dustbins thought up a very complicated plot that not only referred to every single episode of Seasons 28 and 29, but also explained a lot of plot flaws inherent within.

Unfortunately, the fans began to attack each other, and the various retakes confused this burgeoning plot into an inverse spiral of consonants.

Meanwhile, Paul McGann's bar tab continued to rise and India Fisher performed an impromptu striptease on stage for no adequately explored reason. Good for her.

Ultimately, this story twisted the brains of all who saw it. The complete lack of linear narrative, the odd changes of motivation, the fact the lead actor and guest star spent three episodes stuck in a toilet, and the hideous, HIDEOUS Dustbin rapping have firmly ensured... it remains a cult classic, even to this day.

On behalf of myself and everyone with taste -

NO MORE DAMN CULT CLASSICS! I HAVE HAD *ENOUGH*!!!!! GO AWAY!

No comments: