Serial 7C/MG – Industrial Inaction
An Alternate Programme Guide by Ewen Campion-Clarke
An Extract From The EC Unauthorized Programme Guide O' Friday 13th
Dedicated to Pete Campion, Mary Tamm, the bloke who played Onslow, the bloke who played Rygel in "Farscape" and everyone else who didn’t survive the London Olympics even though they should have.
Serial 7C/MG – Industrial Inaction -
The Doctor finally intends to rid himself of that irritating yeast infection the universe knows as Thomas Brewster, and wants to dump in the harshest, most horrible place he can think of. After disregarding obvious hell planets like Krop’Tor, Hadeez and Ursa Major, he finally gets bored and just decides to throw Brewster out the doors at the next place the TARDIS happens to fetch up.
Unfortunately, this turns out to be Lancashire in 1863 at the height of revolutionized industry. The Doctor hopes that nineteenth century England is as ghastly as all those adaptations of Oliver Twist painted it, and forces Brewster at gunpoint to get himself a proper paid job instead of nicking things not nailed down (usually alien doomsday weapons which can destroy whole planets) and flog them for five pence and a piece of an old coat.
Brewster is now a paid-up union member at a smelting factory and has no choice but to give up his life of incredibly retarded get-rich-quick schemes and settle for spending the rest of his days loading metal sheets into a lathe, drinking warm beer and losing the occasional finger. The only ray of hope is the possibility of seducing a local rich girl called Clara and then stealing all her money before buggering off to the Bahamas.
Unfortunately, Clara is too intelligent for Brewster – who, after all, couldn’t get a midget in a jam jar to put out for him – and is, in fact, an undercover OHS inspector. And in these days of hideous industrial accidents, Clara’s got a steady supply of work.
Frustrated both creatively and sexually, Brewster gets the entire factory work force on strike. Until management makes sure the work place is safe for the work force they refuse to work.
The manager, a Mister S. Glitz, tells the workers that they can go and mate with their own selves and he intends to automate the factory with a brand new workforce. Brewster and the union decide to call Glitz’s bluff and spend the next four episodes downing tools, singing songs about solidarity forever, and playing poker very badly.
Filling out the rest of the plot is Glitz desperately trying to put together his workforce of cut-price, American-reboot-revival-style Cybermen that are so much like the Borg that the whole "ripping a franchise off" legal issue swallows its own tail, ouroboros-style.
The Doctor, meanwhile, refuses to let Brewster get away with his industrial inaction... ooh, you see what I did there? Huh? ...and as the least-impartial and most biased of observers, and thus carries out an inspection of the machinery. After ensuring each mechanism is as insanely lethal and dangerous as the temporary-worker Cybermen, the Doctor gives the factory a clean bill of health and sits back with a pint to watch the maiming and screaming and the blood... oh yeah...
Sorry. Miles way. Where was I?
The only flaw in the Doctor’s cruel and sadistic plan is that none of the workers want to go back to work as they’re having far too much fun sitting around doing nothing and keeping their extremities intact. Even the promise of a slap-up grill and homemade beer for the exclusive enjoyment of upper management does not sway them.
Hungry for flesh, shorter hours and more tea breaks – but mainly, just the flesh – the Cybermen revolt and attack the unconverted workers, ripping them limb from limb to taste the salty goodness within. Even offers of signing on to the union won’t hold the army back.
Deciding that discretion is the better part of valor, Glitz runs for his life and catches the next train to Liverpool and, knowing a good idea when he sees it, the Doctor tags along. Glitz admits he’s just a two-bit-Salostophan con-man out to steal rock salt from the planet Earth to give to those aliens from "First Wave" who snort the stuff to get really high. Unfortunately, his overcomplicated cover story has got out of hand and Cybermen are on the loose.
"Oh, THAT old story," the Doctor tuts to himself.
In a strangely ironic-bordering-on-contrived twist, the 8:34 to Liverpool smashes straight into the Cyber-army who have chased Brewster onto the railway line. All the ungodly steampunk drones are smashed to pieces but in categorical proof god does not exist, Brewster somehow survives without even a scratch.
The Doctor totally loses his shit and goes after Brewster with a glue-gun for fifteen minutes before getting bored and leaving in the TARDIS, marooning Brewster in this clichéd nineteenth century post-apocalyptic mining town. In desperation, Brewster offers to become Glitz’s comic relief sidekick for further opportunities for mischief.
Glitz agrees on the condition he must answer to the name "Dibber", shave his sideburns into neat rectangles, undergo cognitive behavior therapy to stop being more annoying than grains of sand in the birth canal. Brewster glumly accepts, and then buys a round of drinks at the Red Lion pub for the patrons to throw into his face as punishment for being such a troublemaking fuckwit.
Book(s)/Other Related -
Dr Who & Mr. Belfrage’s Swollen Leg
Doctor Who: Wage Parity of the Cybermen
Dr Who Versus Union Disputes of Steel (Canada Only)
Fluffs – "Catamites in the kitchen!"
"...you mean 'calamities'."
Stretton sings Hubert Parry’s 1916 composition of Jerusalem nearly fifty years before Parry set it to music. Presumably it was set to music so no one else would make the same hideous atonal caterwauling that Stretton provides here. Coz he can’t sing. If you get my drift.
The Doctor is tipped off to the presence of a small-scale terrain enhancer by the traces of an aniseed smell to the air - a by-product of the enhancer’s nanites. What a stupid concept.
Links and References -
The Doctor mentions he found Evelyn so bloody annoying during "The Farce of Exxon" he was forced to lock her in the TARDIS stationary cupboard, a situation he finds "disturbingly... stimulating".
Untelevised Misadventures –
The Doctor mentions his previous attempts to sink Venice while ripped off his tits on hash brownies, a habit he continues in his next two incarnations in "Nicotine" and "The Stoned of Venice".
Groovy DVD Extras -
A special ringtone of Mark Gatiss screaming "OH MEIN GOTT – RUN FOR IT!!" when he accidentally bumps into both Colin Baker and Sylvester McCoy in the BBC Bar.
Personally, I think they’re running out of decent DVD extras.
Dialogue Disasters -
CyberLeader: You cannot stop us. We are part of the union.
Glitz: Shoot first, saves you having to ask questions later.
Brewster: Do you have a gun? An actual gun, for shooting things with?
Brewster: Well that’s put the mockers on my great plan.
Glitz: You’re an imbecile.
Stretton: Clara, you cannot bring men home from the factory.
Clara: Father, these are good and honest people...
Stretton: I don’t dispute their honesty or their goodness, but Clara, they are not OUR people. Do you wish to be like them? And yet all this contact you have with them can only serve to coarsen your own manners. I am concerned for you, and your future – if you carry on like this, what man will want you?
Clara: How many times do I have to tell you? I’m a lesbian, dammit!
Stretton: That’s a passing phase, Clara, just a passing phase! Now, just you go and practice your softball swing and maybe listen to some nice KD Lang music to calm yourself down...
Brewster: You say that like it’s my fault.
Doctor: I wonder why I would do something like that. YOU DICKHEAD!
Townsend: That sack you’re carrying. Is that the, er...
Brewster: The hand, sir? James’s hand? Is his severed hand in my sack, is that what you’re asking, sir?
Townsend: I can remember my lines, you arrogant little bastard! So just stop prompting me! Right, which page are we on again? We must record this scene methodically. You know what
‘methodically’ means, Brewster?
Brewster: Yeah, we do it your way, cut the scene and leave it as a wild track on the second CD.
Doctor: You know me, Evelyn, I can resist everything but temptation... and certain oiled, muscular circus midgets with question mark tattoos.
Dialogue Triumphs -
Belfrage: Who are you anyway?
Evelyn: I’m Evelyn Smythe, and –
Belfrage: No, I can remember your name.
Evelyn: Really, Johnny? I wish I could. Where am I again?
Townsend: It’s a hand. A human hand – I KNOW OF NO OTHER KIND!!
Doctor: Keep it well oiled, replace its moving parts regularly - should give you years of steam-driven pleasure.
Clara: I like it.
Evelyn: Awkward situations are the Doctor's bread and butter.
Stretton: I do hope that’s not a reflection on the catering.
Townsend: May I ask what are you doing in here?
Doctor: Er, admiring the view.
Townsend: All you can see from here is the chimney.
Doctor: And may I say what a splendid chimney it is. One of the best! A triumph of ventilative engineering!
Townsend: Is this... are you... getting aroused?
Doctor: Such a big, thick, round, throbbing chimney... so virile and dominant and masculine, penetrating that virgin sky without the slightest lubricant...
Townsend: I think I’ll just leave you alone, then.
Stephen: So you’ve travelled a lot, then, have you?
Brewster: Oh, and then some.
Stephen: Because in my experience, Brewster, those who live the travelling lifestyle are either gypsies, actors or crooks.
Brewster: I’m not an actor.
Stephen: No shit.
Doctor: You should be proud of her. She’s only acting with the best of
Stretton: When you attend my funeral, please tell that to your fellow
mourners – I’m sure they’ll find it of great comfort.
Doctor: They’ll be too busy cheering that you’re dead. DIPSHIT!!
Brewster: I know the Doctor, you can trust him. I’m the one you shouldn’t trust.
Evelyn: Oh fuck off, Johnny, you’re not funny!
Cyberman: If you cut me, I do not bleed. If you hit me in the nose, do I not probably go "clong"?
Stretton: From the day I first set eyes on one of those vile machines, I knew they would be the end of us. Oh why did all those deadbeats, imbeciles and all-round fat-heads have to bring them back?
Clara: Because you told them to.
Clara: Yes, for the sake of your own miserable career.
Stretton: Did I?
Stretton: Oh. This is kind of awkward.
Doctor: Yes, an employer does bear a responsibility to his workers. Their welfare is subject to his conduct, and if he doesn’t want that responsibility, then he shouldn’t be an employer. Which reminds me, I must remember to let Evelyn out of that wardrobe I locked her in...
Cyberman: Solidarity forever. The unions have our backs.
Viewer Quotes -
"If you’re not a fan of Hitler’s earlier work, the guest cast, the Sixth Doctor and Evelyn or Brewster than this may not be the story you’re likely to be interested again. Watch Firefly instead."
- SFX Editor Mr. Browncoat (2009)
"I listened to this story as I was walking in the sun near an old northern mill - I really enjoyed it! I think I’ll walk near the old northern mill much more from now on. But I won’t listen to shite like this when I’m doing it, that’s for sure." - Jesus H Bidmead (2010)
"THIS STORY HAS ALREADY BEEN DELETED." - CyberLeader Zheng (9873)
"You know, a lot of people say this is just a story about a pile of junk with delusions of grandeur. Well, I say we should remember that one man’s junk is another man’s slang term referring to his genitals. So I guess this story WAS bollocks." - John Carpenter (2011)
Psychotic Nostalgia -
"Thomas Brewster! FUCK, NO! Thomas Brewster! Gonna screw up absolutely fucking everything! NO! And we used to think C’Rizz was the worst that there is but Thomas Brestwer? FUCK NO! JUST! FUCKING!! NO!!!"
Colin Baker Speaks!
"This is probably the least annoying that Brewster has been. That’s probably down to the script. Eddie’s writing is a very good mixture of harpic and Mr. Sheen – I’m a great lover of Malibu and his scripts are liberally marinated in them. If you need a good snifter, suck one of the pages. In fact, I’ve started doing that to other scripts. Is it me, or is the ground rushing up towards us?"
Rumors & Facts –
Thomas Brewster - the companion most Doctor Who fans simply call "the fuckwit" – is unique in the fact that no one fictional or factual, cast, crew or writer, can put up with the little shit for more than three consecutive stories without attempting justifiable homicide.
Even though he only really appeared in two Fifth Doctor stories, both Peter Davison and Sarah Sutton needed to be sedated by "liquid cosh" to prevent them killing their costar and burning down the studio. When it became clear that Jon Pickard himself was "accidentally" pouring petrol everywhere and phoning up Bolivian hitman for a contract taken out on himself, it was clear this disastrous experiment had to end.
The trouble was that none of the writers were willing to step up to the challenge and so Edward Elizabeth Catflap Hitler was dragged in from one of his drunken orgies at the BBC7 radio vomitorium and plonked in front of a word processor to write out Brewster ASAP.
Hitler immediately thought of a story focusing on the battle of progress versus nature, starting slowly to lull the audience into a false sense of security but soon picking up pace and spiraling out of control. Unfortunately, the spiraling part made Hitler feel very nauseous and he threw up over the keyboard, the monitor, the desk, three production secretaries and Maggie Stables.
The actress was sent to the local Chinese laundry and has been missing ever since, despite numerous attempts by Jason Haigh-Ellory and David Sax to try and redeem her. The staff insist they simply do not clean septuagenarians no matter how dirty they are, and frankly the idea they would was not only demeaning but technically racist.
The sudden disappearance of their lead actress forced Big Finish to begin its now legendary "Evelyn Smythe gets locked in a cupboard for the foreseeable future" story arc and the desperate search was on for a new companion. Hitler drunkenly suggested that Brewster be kept on to replace Evelyn, and the only thing that stopped the cast from lynching him there and then was Hitler’s continual, uncontrollable vomiting.
Showing his total unfamiliarity with the character, Hitler’s take on Brewster is consistent, entertaining and smart – but even this unintentional distortion of the character can’t stop him from being a total asshole who deserves to have his spleen removed via his nostrils and then rammed between the lips he never kisses with.
Still, at least the ghastly shit’s gone for another few years at least – and not even Big Finish are criminally deranged enough to commission "Brewster Empire". Are they? ARE THEY?!?!?
One could say that Industrial Inaction is the best of the second Brewster trilogy, but that’s not saying much. They said they’d brought back Brewster because they had new and interesting things to do with the character, and they were obviously talking rubbish. Even pairing him with Evelyn was a waste of time, and she managed to make characters from Mel to Hex to... actually, just Mel and Hex, really.
Of course, there are always going to be some people criticizing Big Finish’s output – especially if they’re going to keep coming out with garbage THIS bad!