Saturday, October 3, 2009

6th Doctor - The Crimes of Thomas Brewster

Serial 7C/ME – The Wangst of Thomas Brewster
The Wangst of Thomas Brewster
An Alternate Programme Guide by Ewen Campion-Clarke
An Extract From The EC Unauthorized Programme Guide O' My God Here We Go Again Weren’t We Sick To Death Of The Little Shit Already?!

Serial 7C/ME – The Wangst of Thomas Brewster -

 We begin this euthanasia-emancipating-episode by resolving the epic cliffhanger to the previous story, "The Gathering Smugness", where the Sixth Doctor and Evelyn were attacked in the middle of the Thames River by a giant robotic mosquito with attitude problems. Alas, that previous story doesn’t actually exist anywhere and the more I think of it, the more it seems this story just starts in media res.


 So, um... yeah. What happens next? Um. The giant alien robot mosquito attacks the Tower of London because it wants to kill the Doctor and Evelyn (a noble enough intention, I’m sure we all agree). So they steal a police speed boat, hotwire it and then the Doctor uses his coat to overload the robot mosquito’s in-built fashion-style chip and cause it collapse, writhing in agony. And then explode.

 Luckily, DCI Gene "Motherfucking" Hunt of the Metropoliton Police Force happened to be in the area and saved the pathetic and miserable lives of our main characters – and realizes to his slow-dawning horror he has rescued the Sixth Doctor when he was NOT travelling with Charley Pollard, and thus loses all interest in the adventure.

 Oh, Gene, I share your pain. I really do.

 After an awkward conversation where the Doctor realizes that a fictional police officer knows more about the Time Lord’s sex life past and future than he does, they decide to pretend to forget it all and never mention Charley Pollard again. This totally pointless and extraneous exchange takes up a whole episode. Some might call it padding. I call it fucking agony that makes you want to pop your own eardrums. Still, what do I know?


 OK. OK. The plot.

 Gene Hunt reveals that East London is being terrorized by a mysterious Professor Moriarty-style consulting criminal known only as the Doctor, famed for his Edwardian cricketing outfit and ever-present stench of wet celery. Yes, it seems the Fifth Doctor has finally gone over to the dark side – and if you had to live through Alan Barnes’ so-called comedies, well, you’d be lining up for Sith tattoos as well!

 Having fulfilled the exposition quota for the first CD, Gene heads off to the White Rabbit pub to have a philosophical chat with the magical negroid barman and consume nine hundred and thirteen times his own bodyweight in bottles of Scruttock’s Old Dirigible real ale.

 Bored, the Doctor and Evelyn wander off and are immediately kidnapped by a rival, South London criminal gang lead by Frank "Make Poverty History – Cheaper Drugs Now!" Gallagher. The increasing crackdowns on the drug-fueled Chatsworth estate have forced Frank Gallagher and his ever-expanding army of illegitimate offspring to turn to organized crime to make ends meet and they need the Sixth Doctor to hunt down and destroy his previous incarnation. Amazingly, Frank is the only human being stoned enough to understand this wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey nonsense without an episode of Doctor Who Confidental and Steven Moffat explaining it slowly with a flip-chart.

 The Doctor is all for destroying his puny, goodie-goodie, decorative-vegetable-wearing past self but it occurs to him that sort of temporal negation paradox could cause swarms of unstoppable dommervoy time reapers to manifest and consume the Earth.

 Instantly the Gallagher warehouse base is under attack by flying demonic creatures and the Doctor hides under a table, screaming hysterically and praying to Rassilon that he "only spoke in jest, your magnificence-ness!"

 Evelyn notices that the attackers aren’t actually dommervoy but actually more alien robot mosquitoes... which, frankly, is something of a let down as it automatically means we’re going to be denied the immensely satisfying final showdown between Davison and Baker the Second! God damn, that coulda been awesome!

 With her usual befuddled boredom, Evelyn wanders out into the death zone of criss-crossing laser bombardments and DOESN’T GET A SINGLE BLOODY MARK ON HER! She then wanders into a local public convenience and bumps into the so-called Fifth Doctor... who turns out be a completely different young tit in cricket whites and celery.

 Sigh. The title might hint as to this roustabouts’ identity.

 Yes. Not only have characters from "Life on Mars" and "Shameless" broken into the narrative, but we have got to put up with Thomas "Utter Cunt With No Redeeming Features Anyway Whatsoever" Brewster. A whinging little runt so fucking annoying his passive-aggressive emo-crap can pierce Evelyn’s senility and piss her the hell off too!

 Unsurprisingly, news of Brewster’s return terrifies the Doctor far more than any army of robo-insects and he throws himself out of a third-store window into oncoming traffic rather than risk hearing a single nasal whine from the selfish prick. As is dramatically appropriate, the Doctor not only survives this suicidal stunt, but manages to land in the passenger seat of Gene Hunt’s Quattro and informs the DCI that there is "one hell of an annoying son of a bitch loose in HIS CITY!!!!"

 Gene nods and picks up a submachine gun as the Stranglers sing "No More Heroes" in the background in a suitably ironic juxtaposition.

 But before the Gene Genie can pop a cap in Brewster’s ass, he needs to know what kind of twisted sickoes would choose to be in Brewster’s gang – and, come to think of it, why the hell is he going round pretending to be the Fifth Doctor?

 Similar questions occur to Evelyn. Before she settles for drop-kicking the little bastard as he pleads for the "daft old bat" to stop hurting him because he’s a poor orphan and no one loves him and hell, it’s not HIS fault that the entire robot-mosquito-invasion and huge loss of life is entirely down to his totally retarded actions, is it?

 "GOD DAMN IT, JOHNNY!" Evelyn shrieks, searching for more blunt instruments the better to beat him to death with.

 Evelyn seeks the help of a passing blonde hunk with an antique flintlock. No, it’s not Sean Beane from "Sharpe" it is, in fact none other than Jared "No Nickname" Hansen who happens to have been passing with his current bit on the side, an Essex girl fan of "Fringe", early "Dollhouse" and anything involving Mark Gatiss, a tube of superglue and a rabid domestic hamster – Philippa "Flip-Flap" Jackson.

 And any smutty innuendo about what part of Philippa’s anatomy got her that nickname will not be tolerated! Or, at the very least, confined solely to the CD extras and an erotic fan fic novella by Nigel Verkoff.

 Where was I? God! It’s still only episode two!

 Back at the Gallagher hang-out, Frank is amazed when he discovers the alien mosquito laser beams reduce human flesh to piles of curious white powder. On impulse, Frank snorts them and realizes he can supply himself with recreational drugs at the cost of innocent human life. The moral and ethical implications silence him for a moment before he starts shouting the word "PAAAARTTTYYY!" and then falls over.

 Elsewhere, the Doctor and Gene Hunt discover that the robot mosquitoes are being built by some speccy geek called Neville from some shitty Airfix model kits – and if there’s a more pathetic villainous origin story than that, frankly I don’t want to know what it is.

 Just in case these robot mosquitoes had any remaining threat, the Doctor promptly wipes out an assassination squad with an umbrella he borrows off a passer-by. Because they’re just that crap.

 Meanwhile, Jared, Flip and Evelyn catch the next train to Great Portland Street tube station where supplies of torture equipment are waiting to be rented from "Buy It To Riot" for them to use on their captive Brewster, who has had a flintlock emptied into his pale Cockeny artful-dogder-wannabe ass.

 Unfortunately, the train arrives on a strange jungle planet on the other side of the universe. And, unsurprisingly, this all turns out to be Brewster’s stupid fault. Flip kicks him in the bollocks a lot as he screams demands for people to respect his awesome "underground-train-transporting-intergalactic-shifting" powers.

 It quickly transpires after our heroes give the twerp a good beating, that Brewster has once again been blindly following ghostly aliens pretending to be his dead mother and helping them with their plans to enslave the universe – coz, Christ knows, it ALWAYS ends happily!

 Brewster is thus using the scum of London in the ethnographic present to be brainwashed into soldiers fighting for the living, squishy meat-planet of... I dunno, the name’s not very memorable. Something like Symbiosis or something pathetic and Terry Nationish.

 Still whimpering pathetically, Brewster leaves Jared and his bitches to be brainwashed by the naughty aliens and returns to Earth only to instantly be confronted by the Doctor and Gene Hunt. Brewster does the most sensible thing he’s ever done: shits his pants, falls to his knees and prays for the mercy of a brief and painless death.

 Alas, Gene has already stripped Brewster naked, tied him to a snooker table and is shoving a pool cue up where not even customs inspectors would dare to probe. Brewster’s pitiful shrieks provide a comforting background to the rest of the story.

 Finally, the Doctor drags the brutalized urchin to the alien planet where the brainwashed Jared, Flip and Evelyn can do more violence unto his personage. At some point he claims that his girlfriend from that last story he was in dumped him for being a self-loathing parasite with the morals of a pubic louse and his attempt to annihilated Earth in the middle of an interstellar war is him proving his love.

 Or something. Like anyone cares...
 Anyway, the alien zombies and the robot mosquitoes fight each other, some random shit blows up, Jared and Flip argue about Lady Gaga’s greatest hits, Frank finally achieves his life’s dream of being turned into a gigantic pile of ecstasy tablets which his remaining extended family get high on, the Doctor pulls some levers, does something clever, that alien planet that takes over the brains of innocent people to use them as cannon fodder turns out to be evil (SHOCK!!), the Doctor steals Jared’s wallet, Jared gets annoyed, the Doctor loses some teeth, the Doctor gives Jared back his wallet, the robot mosquitoes blow up, the wormhole closes, and Brewster acts like an arse.

 Eventually, the story finally takes pity on us and stops.

Book(s)/Other Related -
Dr Who & The Declining Moral Values of Society
Doctor Who Meets An Annoying, Cowardly Piece of Pond Scum And Makes Him A New Companion – AGAIN!
"Oh, Fuck! He’s Still Alive!" The Unauthorized Biography of T. Brewster
"Flintlocks, Floozies and Flip" The Authorized Biography of J. Hansen

Goofs -
Thomas Brewster.

If the alien mosquito robot gestalt thingy can’t send the Queen through the wormhole first because the risk of the wormhole closing and trapping her there... why does she go last? Isn’t it just as risky for the wormhole to close and trap her on the first planet? And, given that is EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS, it’s a legitimate concern. The Doctor apparently deduced this totally ridiculous approach, but then again, no one in this story acts like they’ve got two brain cells to rub together so maybe he’s just hoping for consistent plot contrivance?

You cannot cure a computer virus by clapping your hands and promising to believe in fairies. I have checked this with senior IT consultants across the globe. It just doesn’t work. Believe me, they’ve tried.

Fashion Victims -
The cover depicts the Doctor wearing his blue zoot suit, but the story insists the Doctor is wearing his multicolored monstrosity because that and only that is godawful enough to blind the robot mosquitoes. What’s more, given the Doctor has preferred to wear his blue zoot suit for most of his adventures with Evelyn, there’s no reason for him to change back on the odd chance he’d be attacked by giant robot mosquitoes.

So what the hell gives?! This is HUMUNGOUSLY IMPORTANT and upon it Big Finish’s reputation, the entire history of Doctor Who – nay, the fate of the UNIVERSE ITSELF!! – precariously hangs! WARS HAVE BEEN FOUGHT OVER LESS! CHRIST, I HAVE GOT TO CUT DOWN THE ENERGY DRINKS!!!

Technobabble -
According to TVTropes, Brewster’s "death grip on the Idiot Ball" is achieved by overlapping equidistant smug-imbecile-o-tron particles with gravitas inversion drive linked to a dumb-wanking-fuck-a-trix. This is something that is simultaneously both beyond Earth’s technology and John Pickard’s current acting ability.

Links and References -
In her senile dementia, Evelyn has also completely forgotten the events of The Maid Marian Conspiracy, Project: Nightlight, The Soundman, D’you Believe This? and also most of 300. Lucky her.

Untelevised Misadventures -
The last time the Doctor fought alien robot mosquitoes, King James II was busy selling tower bridge to some really gullible tourists from Bermuda while an invasion by the Dropdeadgorgeous Drahvins unfolded. I dunno about you, but I’d have preferred that adventure to this!

Groovy DVD Extras -
The racy, controversial, excessively-violent CENSORED "track three" which was excised from part one due to it featuring scenes of an explicit crisp-munching, donkey-molesting, clown-abusing nature.

Dialogue Disasters -

Evelyn: Johnny, we’re being kidnapped!
Doctor: Yes. Exciting, isn’t it? At this rate, some kind of plotline might turn up out of this montage of clichés and ex-companions...
Evelyn: That’s nice, dear. Where’s my fish?

Jared: This is madness, Flip - a few hours ago we were on our way to Marty’s twenty-first, now we’re on an alien planet getting ready to zap alien invaders with machine guns. And it’s even MORE tedious than Call of Duty and Avatar combined!
Flip: Hardcore. Seriously hardcore.
Jared: Indeed, Flip. Indeed.

Gene Hunt: Oi, Ronald McDonald – there’s one thing I don’t understand.
Doctor: Only the one? You understand everything else?
(Gene punches the Doctor over a desk and into the corner.)
Gene Hunt: Yes I do, blondie bear! You wanna make something of it?

The special scrolling Star-Wars-style introduction to the story:
"Hey! I never said bringing Brewster back was a good idea! Don’t drag me into this, dude, I just said we had some ideas I rather liked and found exciting. Did I say one of those likeable ideas was bringing Tommy Fucknuckle Brewster back? No I did not! Yours, John Dorney."

Doctor: No. The Locus was right. Given the choice, if any planet deserves to be saved, it’s Symbios, not Earth.
Flip: Are you having a laugh?
Doctor: Spare me your Ricky Gervais impressions, Flip, and think about it! Symbios is unique in the universe! Peaceful! Intelligent! And sacrificing the Earth is just the sort of unpredictable plot twist that could save this ghastly storyline! Face it, this collage of RTD-era cartoon CGI and random ongoing characters is polluted, its natural imagination almost exhausted, presided over by an author that has nothing better to do than make crap jokes about Lady Gaga!
Flip: Well. When you put it like THAT...

Doctor: I have one question, your majesty. Why?
Robot Mosquito Queen: Why?
Doctor: Why roam the galaxy, accumulating the resources of every
planet that gets in your way? What’s it all for? Give me at least SOME fig-leaf of characterization to justify four episodes...
Robot Mosquito Queen: Our prime directive is to extract and assimilate all mineral wealth on behalf of those who constructed us.
Doctor: Terraforming robots running amok - no doubt the product of a
civilization destroyed by their own creations when they forgot to include an off switch! All that death, all that destruction... caused by someone called Neville?!?!
Robot Mosquito Queen: The prime directive overrides all other concerns.
Doctor: NEVILLE?!?!?!

Evelyn: A quiet visit to the Tower of London and we get zapped at by an alien robot bug! This is the stupidest script I’ve ever been in!
Doctor: Do I detect a complaint?
Evelyn: No, just a passing observation.

Gene: Now, since I last met you, I did some research. Well, I read The Time Traveler’s Wife. Well, I got out the DVD. Well, I watched the first ten minutes. But apparently that’s all you need to do to slag off Steven Moffat until the end of time.
Doctor: What on Earth gave you that impression?
Gene: That’s the info I got from one of my snouts, Mad Larry the Pirate King. Seems to be an open-minded and optimistic bit of pond life. He says this current plotline’s bad.
Doctor: Oh it IS bad, Gene. I’d even go so far as to say that it merits the use of the word "extremely!"

Evelyn: You’re the Doctor?
Brewster: I am indeed.
Evelyn: ...I don’t believe it! You frighten Dustbins?
Brewster: Well. Not professionally. But I’ve given the kettle some very dirty looks from time to time...
Evelyn: That settles it! You’re not the Doctor!
Brewster: No no, I remember now – Bill and Ted Dustbin, the notorious Dustbin brothers of San Dimas! Of course!
Evelyn: You’re an imposter!
Evelyn: Oh get a fucking life, you little prick!

Flip: I’m just the Doctor’s companion. It’s my job to ask stupid questions, look good in a miniskirt and sprain my ankle. And I’ll do it a damn sight better than Grandma and the Artful Wanker here...

Doctor: You’re going to shoot us? How marvelously imaginative!
Brewster: You being sarcastic?
Doctor: No!
Brewster: ...well... good.

Gene Hunt’s subtle seduction of Flip:
"I think I’ll hold group therapy sessions for the non-stop excitement of adjusting back to normal life. Or maybe I’ll just smash up a pub and indulge in belligerent sexual tension. It could go either way."

Evelyn: I can't move my legs! The mud – it’s sucking like quicksand!
Brewster: Hold on... I’m getting sucked down too!
Flip: We’re being sucked into the mud!
Jared: This just plain sucks.

Dialogue Triumphs -

Flip: Doctor, having a pop at Brewster isn’t going to help us!
(Long pause. A tumbleweed rolls by.)
Flip: Sorry. Dunno why I just said that.

Doctor: As I live and breath! DCI Hunt! How on Earth did you find me?
Gene: I saw the swarm of giant robot insects and applied me keen deductive reasoning, didn’t I? It was either you or that lot from Sanctuary and frankly I’m starting to feel ripped off.

Jared: This flat is a tip that looks like a bomb hit it and a burglar broke in to tidy up.
Flip: I know! I love what you’ve done with the place!
Jared: Meh. I try.

Brewster: That’s a microphone! THE BITCH IS WIRED FOR SOUND!
Evelyn: That’s nice, Johnny. Please fuck off now.

Doctor: Detective Inspector, may I tell you something, and I can’t
stress this too strongly… I am not Captain Kirk. Captain Kirk was straight. Oh, what I would do to that Vulcan with a can of whipped cream and a ferret... oh, illogical is the least of it...
Gene: Yes, thank you for sharing that, oh mutual acquaintance of Dorothy! Blimey, yet another reason I wish Pussycat Pollard was still around! Oh, and while we’re on the topic, the adventures of Charley’s Odyssey are still retailing for $44.99. What a rip-off, eh?

Frank Gallagher: Listen. This is serious. It has come to my undivided attention, mate, that "Norman de Plume" is NOT your real name...

Gene: I’m a trusting sort, Mr. Brewster. Not a cynical bone in my body. And there won’t be an unbroken bone in YOUR body if you keep pissing me about. In fact, I think it’ll do anyway. Raymondo, hand me the extra-long police baton and remove his trousers!

Brewster: If I was the Doctor, you would never be my companion.
Doctor: Thank fucking Christ for that!

Viewer Quotes -

"Thomas Brewster is the Jeremy Fitzoliver of the 21st Century."
  - Barry Letts (2007)

"Funnier than cholera."  - See The Funny Side Epidemics Weekly (2011)

"Unnecessary, unrealistic, trite, abysmal, crow-barred into place, ephemeral, flawed, farcical, lackluster, one-dimensional, caricatured, insignificant, off-putting, poor, extraneous, expository and a bit wanky. Just some of the words I use to review stories and impress people by talking very loudly in restaurants."
  - Vanessa Bishop (2010)

"Pure pleasure, this release! Oh GOD I LOVE ORAL SEX!!!"
  - unidentified screams coming from the backroom of the Galaxy Bookshop the day this story was put on sale (2010)

"Comparisons between Brewster and Jeremy Fitzoliver are unfair – he’s an interesting character who manages to straddle charm with true danger due to his nature, whereas Brewster is just a badly written, badly performed pain in the backside."  - Welsey Crusher (2009)

"BTW, that wasn’t a compliment. This story sucked. Real people can be inconsistent like that, especially if they’re paranoid schizophrenics."
  - See The Funny Side Epidemics Weekly (2011)

"I wasted a quarter of my subscription on tumor-ridden excrement like this! Oh, and the joins between audio tracks were just salt in the wounds, the way they skipped made me hope for a moment that this shite was over but it’s never over never ever ever over..."
  - the Sherriff of Nottingham from 'Robin of Sherwood' (1986) which amazingly doesn’t make sense in ANY other context whatsoever

"I don’t know if it was the direction or the sound design, but the first time I listened to it, it just sounded new. Shiny new; almost like it was missing something. But it just fit with the rest of the story. The closest I can come to describing it is that the top of the container was left off. If the audio is inside of the container, the top is left off and everything that is happening is free to the whole world. It’s a strange way of describing it, but it’s what I think."
  - random heroin addict on twitter (2010)

"I’d rather listen to a tape loop of leaf blower noise than Howard Carter’s bombastic score. Assuming there’s a difference."
  - Guy Sebastian (2012)

"Do people really find Brewster as annoying as Jeremy Fitzoliver? Blimey! Jeremy was useless, toffy, blundering, unintelligent and foolish. He’s Mahatma Ghandi in comparison to that Cockney urchin fuckwit! OH GOD I HATE HIM! I don’t even love to hate him, I hate the fact he exists! I HATE HIMMMM!!!"
  - Richard "bloke who played Jeremy Fitzoliver" Pearce (2012)

"Just out of interest, why - exactly - do some people hate Brewster so much? What is it about the character they find annoying? I’d be interested to know... that knowledge, that power, WOULD SET ME UP ABOVE THE GODS! AND THROUGH BREWSTER I WILL HAVE THAT POWER!!!"
  - ABC press release for 'Chris Lilley’s Angry Boys' (2011)

Psychotic Nostalgia -
"Does Big Finish have a Penge agenda? Three stories set there in five months. Or five stories set there in three months. What is Penge anyway? It sounds like something Douglas Adams sneezed up after one too many tequila shots at Milliways. Or maybe some nasty yeast infection. I might have caught penge off a Vietnamese ladyboy back in 97. You don’t have any antibiotics on you by any chance, do you?"

Colin Baker Speaks!
"When they told me that I had to have Brewster as a companion for three stories, I just said 'Oh dear' and became very, very depressed. Oddly enough, David Richardson and the others were also depressed. We just sat there in a Chekov-style gloom of despondency, wondering what in the name of sanity we’d done to deserve it. I remember Sylvester McCoy laughed at my misery. But his day will come, and he’ll have to have three stories with that ungrateful Brewster fucker... None of my daughters are country cricketers. I wonder why."

Rumors & Facts –

I confess I wasn’t hugely enthused for this outing. The very title alone drove me to acts of self-harm. And the knowledge that there were two more stories of Brewster pissing off absolutely everyone in all of creation coming made me suffocate a cat with a pair of Chinese worry-balls. So when I got halfway through this release without the blessed oblivion of death, I realized something vitally important: METH AMPHETAMINES WORK, DAMMIT!!!

 Whilst this isn’t Jonathon Morris’s greatest script, it is the worst piece of crap to have his named soldered onto it with a length of hot wire and also kicks off Doctor Who’s 48th year like a diagnosis of Herpes while taking a paternity test with Omar Sharif.

 This stomach-churning tale of deceit and betrayal started as so many tales do with the executive production team of Big Finish realizing yet another year of cheap, poorly-made, derivative, disposable, unliked, illegally-downloadable crud had to be made and they had to be the ones to do it. That sort of foreknowledge can inspire suicide in lesser men and when we’re talking about Big Finish, there ARE no lesser men.

 Having recently finished sifting through thousands of write-in script submissions from all over the world, the head honchoes (David Sax, Alan Barnes, David Richardson and JHE) realized a universal truth they had begun to recklessly overlook:

 They didn’t actually LIKE their so-called customers.

 Thus they decided their number-one priority for 2011 would be to make the lives of DW fans as unbearable as possibly by giving them stories so unutterably awful many a Whovian would be found dead having slashed their wrists at the mere thought of them. This approach got them in real trouble with BBC Wales, as Steven Moffat was trying to do the exact same thing and was worried their different methods might cancel out the mass-lemming-genocide both hoped to achieve.

 While Moffat decided to destroy the denizens of Outpost Gallifrey via the fearful method of Total River Song Saturation, Big Finish tried to do something similar. But where could they find a companion as utterly annoying, smug, hate-inducing and spiteful as River Song?

 Then, of course, they realized.

 Yes. They would bring back Thomas Brewster.

 The estimated death toll in the first minute following this announcement was roughly 731 fans across the globe. Moffat later tweeted "#impressed: Touché, Big Finish. Touché."

 The logical choice to write this abomination was the same vulpine degenerate who penned the original story, The Fawning of Thomas Brewster: Jonathan "Sanity Bores Me" Morris, who was delighted to once again write for his most odious creation. "You can’t keep a good man down – or even a cunt like Brewster," Morris observed.

 Thinking that Brewster had been "toned down" in his last appearance in "The Two Companions (And That Little Shit Called Thomas Brewster)", Morris was determined to make Brewster even WORSE this time round, until even the C'Rizz, Mel and Adric haters renounced them and worshipped the Spite of Brewster.

 Personally, I think Morris just has impossibly high standards, given
The Two Companions consisted almost entirely of Brewster driving Polly and the Brigadier to Spanish-Inquisition-style lengths to make the twat suffer over no less than thirty-seven separate CDs.

 Alan Barnes meanwhile vetted the storyline proposals to ensure that nothing new was said and everything occurred solely for nostalgia’s sake with absolutely no new perspectives – thus ensuring the listeners would feel monumentally awful and useless. Again, I feel Barnes wasn’t confident in his own abilities, since he achieves all that by ripping off 1970s British TV comedies and removing all the jokes.

 To ensure nothing enjoyable ended up in the story by mistake it was decided to down the plot in return appearances by old characters, such as DCI Gene Hunt, Jared Hansen and his latest bitch Flip. As the latter two hadn’t actually appeared in Big Finish before, a story was hastily commissioned to resolve that predestination problem before someone’s grandfather shot himself through the head and suddenly Nazis were riding dinosaurs through the town square.

 Alas, these scenes unbalanced the flow of the entire storyline and the plot... what there was of it... only began during the last five minutes of episode four, and were pretty damn padded five minutes as well.

 Exactly how my good friend, bail guarantor and intellectual threat Jared "No Nickname" Hansen ended up in the Moat Studios on the other side of the planet from his usual stomping grounds to be cast AS HIMSELF as a main character in a play he still hasn’t heard to, is a truly amazing story. And if you think I’m going to waste such an epic by publishing it on this crappy backwater of a blog, then you are very much mistaken!

 But, since you all know where I live, I will briefly outline it.

 Basically, Jared though that he finally had the chance to kill his nemesis, Tom Petty, but to his immense frustration found out that he HADN’T travelled backwards in time at all and it was just another trap of the Ken Doll’s... or something... actually, I’m not entirely sure about the chain of events here... it’s quite confusing, actually.

 Anyway, this whole story felt very throwaway. By which I mean I wanted to throw it away as soon as I saw the name of the play. But please, let us not for a moment think that I am criticizing any part of it because if I did then the Evil Minions of Threek have threatened to demand, in handwritten letters every hour on the hour, Big Finish produce an ongoing spin-off experimental comedy of nothing but Brewster and Lucie Miller talking about abstract Cartesian logic and industrial solvents in Glaswegian accents.

 Unless we want to risk billions of letters swamping Big Finish in a tidal wave of cataclysmic public pressure, we’ll just have to accept that this story isn’t bad. Because to be a story, it would have to be ABOUT something, wouldn’t it?

 The Official Doctor Who Magazine dubbed The Wangst of Thomas Brewster "An intoxicating cocktail. Or, to put it another way, this is so bad it will drive a teetotaler to knock back absinthe. Even Escape To Danger On The Planet In Space is better than this – and that’s marginally worse than genital warts on elderly relatives.


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