Monday, December 7, 2009

8th Doctor - Wirrn Dawn

Serial 9Y – Wirrrn-Born
An Alternative Program Guide by Ewen Campion-Clarke
Forty-Eighth Entry in the EC Unauthorized Guide O' Violent Alien Nightmares In Blood

D O C T O R W H O

Serial 9Y – Wirrrn-Born -


Beyond time and somewhere in the depth of space... a horrific nightmare is about to become a reality. For, as the Doctor and Smelly Ed idly play a game of Go Fish, Lucie Miller has gone into full labor. "If you care about me, you’ll get me to a hospital right now!" Lucie shouts at her traveling companion.

"Well, why didn’t you say earlier?" the Doctor boggles, and goes back to ignoring her. He’s more interested in quizzing Smelly Ed if he has a Jack or a King or even the playing card that’s not actually part of the pack but just has the rules to Bridge written on the back.

Finally, the Doctor notices the TARDIS has landed and pops outside the check which particular part of Cardiff they’ve arrived in. Lucie is devastated to see that they’ve landed in yet another mucky spaceship and not the pristine maternity ward she specifically requested. The Doctor and Smelly Ed wander off, bored, when a squad of armed troopers run around the corner and immediately open fire...


Parte the First

For some reason, perhaps due to the fact the plot would go precisely nowhere if our central characters were all unceremoniously executed in cold blood before the story started, the Doctor, Lucie and Smelly Ed survive and are arrested by Clyde Langer XIV and his badass racist mofo comic relief sidekick Salway Avon. Indeed, it could be Avon’s continuing attempts to insinuate Clyde wets the bed were responsible for saving the lives of the TARDIS crew. We may never know. Or care.

Realizing that he’d left his handy-dandy psychic passport in the TARDIS (where he was unsurprisingly using it to cheat at cards), the Doctor is unable to bluff his way with these ebony-skinned, gun-totting bastards and settles for hiding behind Lucie and whimpering.

This awkward and embarrassing spectacle is thankfully cut short as Admiral Farroll announces the ship is now in orbit around Carista 7 and it’s time for those "motherbugging insects" to get some payback!

Unfortunately, Farroll has barely finished her propaganda-filled speech of rhetoric about how the infinitely-superior human race will annihilate their enemies with much more ease than in the "Starship Troopers" franchise yes indeed when the whole space fleet is simultaneously attacked on all sides.

"Oh, the bitter lack of irony," the Admiral sighs.

The hull gives way, the walls ripped apart to allow the glossy, indigo-coloured scorpion-like insect monsters to attack and slaughter all the non-speaking extras. With the shrill rattles of giant cicadas, the Wirrrn murder everyone they can get with their lethal clawed tails, huge glowing eyes filled with sadistic mirth.

"Fuck... this..." says the Doctor slowly and then runs for it.

Leaving Lucie to her fate and Clyde and Avon to fire uselessly, the Doctor and Smelly Ed flee down the sprawling corridors before the ship disintegrates. Thinking quickly, the Doctor climbs inside a spacesuit for protection before he’s blown into space. Smelly Ed tags along, finally living his dream of being a fart in a spacesuit!

As they float from the stricken spaceship, the Doctor reflects this is a full-scale war with both the humans and the Wirrrn locked in a brutal battle for survival – undoubtedly their best chance of getting rid of Lucie forever. Not even the wild imaginings of the Doctor can see how a pregnant Northern slag can simultaneously survive the agony of childbirth, hard vacuum and bugs that peel their way through heavy metal bulkheads with a flick of their bristling tentacular legs!

The Doctor and Smelly Ed soon have more important things to worry about – the TARDIS has fallen out into space and the flying space bugs are chasing our heroes with intentions only slightly less dubious than the Sydney Bulldogs at a all-girls high school dormitory. Using the spacesuit jet-pack, they escape the destroyed fleet into space and make their way to the police box spiraling around the planet below...

...only to be "rescued" by a passing escape pod at the last second.

Emerging from the airlock, the Doctor and Smelly Ed are confronted by Clyde and Avon who’ve been searching the area for other survivors while Lucie lies on the acceleration couch, swigging a can of "Wicked Strength Bath-Cleaning Andromedan Lager" and smoking cheap ciggies (on the argument that since she’s in labor she doesn’t have to worry about harming whatever ungodly horror she’s carrying... not that she ever did in the first place).

Despite being in the heart of a solar-system-wide massacre that has wiped out millions, with even those fleeing in spacesuits getting sliced apart by Wirrrn, occurring in the bloodiest period of the history of the human race, Lucie has not only survived in perfect health, she STILL hasn’t dropped her freaking sprog!

Clyde and Avon are desperate for someone else to take over delivering Lucie’s baby and, once again, the Time Lord’s stupid moniker of "Doctor" gets him into hot water. Since he’s as eager to perform a cervical exam on Lucie as he is to regenerate into a big-eared Northern pikey tosser, the Doctor desperately engineers a distraction by zapping the escape pod’s controls with the sonic screwdriver.

While this does admittedly buy the Doctor some time before having to deal with Lucie, it unfortunately sends the pod careening into the planet’s atmosphere at entirely the wrong angle and one bumpy ride and fade to black later, the pod crash-lands into a generic gravel pit with a few CGI moons looking a tiny bit like an alien planet.

Not far away, the Wirrrn Queen hears their arrival and orders her foot soldiers to go out and find any survivors, while she fusses about making the hive looking pretty and puts her makeup on for guests.

The Doctor and the others emerge from the pod and realize two incredibly vital facts

1) it won’t be long before dawn before hundreds of Wirrrn attack
2) Lucie’s screams about feeling like someone has "shoved an umbrella up her bum and is now violently opening and closing it" are getting really, REALLY annoying

The Doctor, Smelly Ed, Clyde and Avon must decide which is their priority. On the one hand, outside is the constant threat of being crushed by falling debris from the sixty-eight battle cruisers destroyed in the battle – not to mention the rustling, whistling, hoarsely squeaking Wirrrn. On the other, at least they don’t have to see Lucie’s cervix dilating out there.

The group pop outside for some fresh air and only NOW notice that the pod is surrounded by hundreds of Wirrrn, looming over them like Buddha only with really big eyes. And, you know, insects and stuff.

Our heroes decide to take their chances with Lucie once again as the Wirrrn climb on top of the pod, their sharp hairs and spines scratching shrilly against the metallic walls with a noise scientifically designed to set your teeth on edge.

Clyde notes that, since the Wirrrn are all gathered around the gun turret on the roof of the pod, they can simply nuke the bastards but the Doctor has a far more amusing, sadistic and suicidally-insane plan of action that involves diverting their precious battery power into the hull itself to electrify every last one of the segmented bastards!

Lucie points out that they’ll all be electrocuted as well and, after smacking his forehead a lot and shouting "Stupid, stupid, stupid Doctor!" very loudly, the Time Lord agrees. But, he realizes, all they need is a pile of insulated material to stand on in the middle of the deck and they’ll be safe. And the perfect material for that would be the padded mattress Lucie is laboring on right now!

"Oi!" snaps Lucie. "If you think I’m going to interrupt my birthing plan just so you can char-grill some giant space bugs then I can tell you now that you are VERY much mistaken!"

One traditional British situation comedy jump cut later, everyone is standing on the mattress as blinding surges of current force the Wirrrn to retreat. Avon notes that the Doctor has used up nearly all the pod’s energy in this stupid stunt and not killed a single Wirrrn! It won’t be long before they return and this time there will be nothing to stop them! Clyde demands to know what the hell the Time Lord was thinking:

"DAMN IT, I JUST LOVE THE SMELL OF CRISPY WIRRRN IN THE MORNING!"

Meanwhile, the Wirrrn Queen realizes there is a wise one amongst the group of human intruders, a burning intelligence that could be a threat. She also detects the presence of the Doctor. HAH! Psyche!

Dawn rises on the planet, illuminating a landscape of corpses and wreckage stretching from the horizon, while the group inside the escape pod pass the time playing Go Fish or – in Lucie’s case – bitching about contractions and possible tearing.

Finally, the Doctor gets sick of her predictable whining. He has no sympathy for the cow, since there’s plenty of pain relief in the first-aid box if she wanted to use it – and her insistence on a natural birth is a bit rich considering the father is a walking dead Welshman zombie! Who isn’t even present at the birth!

The Doctor and Smelly Ed decide to head off and look for another escape pod with more power, a working transmitter, and perhaps a trouser press to make cheese toasties. The others can stay here to die when the Wirrrn return and rip them apart.

An argument breaks out when the Doctor makes this suggestion to the others, but Clyde orders everyone to be quiet and fires off a couple of laser bolts into the ceiling to emphasize his point that he is sick and tired of this shit. Lucie can be left behind with Avon to act as emergency midwife. True, he has no medical experience whatsoever, but he also doesn’t care whether Lucie and her offspring live or die, so it’s a win-win situation.

Meanwhile, the Wirrrn Queen tells her brood that the time approaches - she can sense the "wise one" has left the escape pod, leaving the female for their tender fathomless mercies!

Back at the ship, Avon and Lucie make light conversation about the weather and try to ignore the unearthly shrieks and rattlings emerging from Lucie’s swollen stomach. "Musta been those beans," Lucie notes rather unconvincingly.

As the teenage mum-to-be starts to remove her underwear, the twenty-five minutes is up and it’s time for a gratuitous cliffhanger as Avon stares at Lucie’s birth canal and hysterically screams, "THAT IS THE SICKEST THING I HAVE EVER SEEN!"


Parte the Second

In a cheap moment of republican retroactive continuity, the cliffhanger is resolved by Avon revealing his disgust was for the tattoos that Lucie has on her thighs and pelvis: "HEAVEN THIS WAY", "OWEN H. WOZ ERE!" and a butterfly design that is now stretched to the size of Mothra thanks to Lucie’s expanding waistline.

Awkward and embarrassed, Lucie tries to make casual conversation but quickly runs out of topics apart from how she has a feeling that they are being watched and probably about to be attacked any minute. With sudden paranoia, Avon wonders if she’s actually a Wirrrn spy and actually trying to fool them with her unconvincing "childbirth" acting.

Lucie protests that it’s NOT an act and she can’t even walk any more, but Avon suspects she’s drunk - she HAS just downed a crate of beer cans and showing all the symptoms, after all. Mind you, the Xena Warrior Princess shrieks she’s making are pretty authentic...

Meanwhile, the Doctor, Smelly Ed and Clyde are cautiously moving through the ravaged landscape, idly discussing the latest hit single by the cosmic cover band GalSex Space Vixens. Clyde muses that most pop music nowadays is dominated by anti-Wirrrn propaganda. Given the fact that the indestructible monsters will survive any battle no matter how long and fierce it is, Clyde thinks it’s a waste of time and creative imagination trying to get people to hate them.

The trio spot a group of human survivors being slaughters by a Wirrrn swarm and the Doctor notes this rather proves Clyde’s point, and the group continue on their merry way.

The Wirrrn capture one survivor who just happens to be a nubile bronzed Brazillian supermodel and drag her to a sacrificial tanning booth in a nearby plain. The giant insects intend to have their wicked way with the supermodel and if this creates a lethal new half-human race of conquerors, that’s just an added bonus!

The Doctor considers this situation for about four and a half seconds and suddenly leaps to a truly demented conclusion:

Somehow, the ancient inhabitants of this planet also got into war with the Wirrrn and realized they could never beat them and so instead joined them – offering up virgin sacrifices to the keep the alien invertebrates passive and non-hostile!

Back at the pod, Avon is caught between the twin horrors of the advancing Wirrrn and Lucie giving birth. The badass computer genius is rooted to the spot, unsure which is the worse fate and eventually is forced to give up and encourages Lucie to stop screaming in agony and try some Lamaze breathing techniques. These have the miraculous side effect of shutting her up for a few minutes.

Finally the offspring starts to crown and Avon calmly walks outside to be torn limb from limb by the Wirrrn, having finally come to the decision that this is the more dignified fate. Lucie is left sweating, screaming and swearing as the creatures scuttle into the pod, arching their segmented tails up over their heads, ready to slice her apart with their murderous stings.

"You selfish buggers! Don’t you think I’ve got enough on me plate at the moment, with this son of a bitch coming out of me fanny? It’s like passing a kidney stone the size of Jedward! NOW SOD OFF!"

To Lucie’s surprise, the creatures turn and leave the pod.

Up at the altar, the Doctor, Smelly Ed and Clyde try not to vomit as a cluster of Wirrrn gang-bang the supermodel - this is the way things used to be, the way of nature. The Wirrrn Queen has also arrived for a bit of the "old cross-species slap and tickle", requiring such debauchery and debasement to survive. But the years without such kinky sex have caused the Queen to wither and decay, taking out her sexual frustration by unleashing the swarm over humanity.

In fact, so shag-starved is the Queen that the mere IDEA of doing the nasty with a human is too much for her elderly circulatory system and she drops dead there and then, leaving the Wirrrn leaderless.

At that moment, Lucie stumbles out of the escape pod, much relieved at finally giving birth and regaining her trim figure. "Take that, Posh Spice you fat bitch! I’m a proper mammy now!" she cheers, and holds up her newborn baby in a weird Lion King style homage.

After a moment, the sickened Clyde explains that Lucie is actually holding up the afterbirth and the real baby was the thing she shoved into a doggy-bag for tonight’s dinner. Awkwardly, Lucie hastily swaps them the right way around.

Everyone gasps at the creature’s freakishly large globular eyes, octopus head, chubby tentacles, fearsome pincer tail and raise antennae – truly the perfect synthesis of Lucie Miller and Owen Harper. Everyone stops to admire the squeaking, whistling newborn with its leathery body, giant globular ochre eyes and angular tentacle-legs. True, it resembles a locust more than it does a human being but, hey, it’s a baby and all babies are cute!

Hours later, the novelty finally wears off and the sun rises and it strikes the Doctor that Lucie’s baby is just the bastard hybrid that can be used to guide the Wirrrn to their new destiny as the architects of primetime televisional edutainment in the future!

Lucie realizes that her baby can create benefit reforms, tax cuts, mercy to all humans – in short, the little freak can do more good on this world and have a much better start in life than growing up in Blackpool and getting picked on over its mandibles and unsightly razor-sharp body hair problem.

Leaving Lucie to play peek-a-boo with her offspring, admiring how cute their antennae look and now nice their slobber smells, Smelly Ed reveals he is sickened by her choice. The Doctor points out that it’s not a question of right or wrong or giving a satisfying end to an ongoing story arc. "You’re going to have to have to broaden your personal horizons if you want to survive in THIS show, buster," the Time Lord snaps at him reproachfully.

It’s time to leave and Clyde decides to stay out of morbid curiosity to see if humanity makes peace with the Wirrrn or just slaughters them all in another bloodbath and mutually assured destruction. The Doctor is confident that this is a new dawn of history and a whole new race has emerged from Lucie’s over-hyped genitals; a race known as THE WIRRN! With just TWO "r"s this time!

"Wirrn?" Lucie sighs, "I was hoping for something a bit more posh and sophisticated, like 'Slags' or something like that?"

Shaking his head, the Doctor leads Lucie and Smelly Ed back to the TARDIS, urging Lucie not to give another thought to her newborn child and indeed never mention this retarded plot thread ever, ever again.

"I can’t help but worry, Doctor! I’m a mother now, with motherly responsibilities to my litter. Coz the only thing that matters in the whole universe is... um... actually, I’ll get back to you on that."

By the time the TARDIS next materializes, Lucie is dancing on the console, halfway through a striptease - her rendition of The Stripper Song muffled by the fag in the mouth and the beers in her hands.

---------
Next Time...
---------
"A Sapphire & Steel crossover perhaps – but a most unusual one..."
"Doctor, I was at the BAFTAS and there was definitely no winning category for special effects!"
"We have a physician attending should it all prove too much for the antibiotics!"
"Nicole Kidman, Ewen McGreggor and other talentless hacks!"
"Lucie Miller on Ice! That’ll go down a treat with the Gestapo, they love these sort of things at the SS!"
"Baaaaaa! Stay back! Don’t look at me! Avert your gaze! Baaaaa!"
"I look forward to seeing you topless!"
"ZOMG!"
"By way of reprisal, I have once more ordered that fifty banana daiquiris be free of charge..."
---------
...The Space Goat...
---------


Book(s)/Other Related –
Doctor Who Loses His CENSORED To Starship Troopers!
Dr Who: Pro Life, Anti Hideous Insectoid Ominivores
Lucie 'Gore Spawn' Miller & Her Far-From-Human Birthing


Fluffs – Paul McGann seemed to be the Boy with an Arab Strap in this story, and regularly cracks up whenever Lucie says anything like "Mummy loves you!" to the hideous parasitic insectoids.
"A crawling error from the depths of tomb! I mean a dawdling terror from the tomb of doom! Er, a terrifying womb deep in the depths of... er... Oh, never mind, it’s just meaningless hyperbole anyway!"
"Where’s the big smiley-wiley for mummy-scrummy-wummy then? Where is it? Where is it? Come on, where the bloody hell is it? There it is! Good boy. And/or girl."


Goofs –
Have you SEEN the cover artwork? It takes a hell of a lot to make 1970s plasticine wasps look MORE realistic and convincing than the most amazing CGI creations known to BBC Wales, doesn’t it?


Fashion Victims -
Lucie doesn’t QUITE carry off the skin-tight black leather XXXL spacesuits, even without the visible panty lines.


Technobabble -
The Doctor puts the similarity between Lucie and Charley down to the "Copycat Juno Meme" of the early 21st Century.


Links and References -
The Doctor suspects that this "Owen Harper" Lucie spoke of was not actually a zombie but an Xtroid (Serial 6Q/AA). This would, admittedly, explain Owen’s freakishly-large mouth and lack of social graces.


Untelevised Misadventures -
The Doctor mentions that Stacey Townsend also gave birth to freakish half-human offspring just like Charley and Lucie: "Ssard never had the guts to admit he had a vasectomy and the Ice Warrior she slept with was just a rather horny shape-shifter."


Groovy DVD Extras -
Optional soundtrack of the cast of Glee sing "Bohemian Rhapsody" during the birth scenes. I *so* wish that was a joke.


Dialogue Disasters –

Wirrrn Queen: I loved my spawn, I’ve played their mother, I’ve waited so long! So now some TIME OFF! FOR GOOD BEHAVIOR! Now I’M OFF! FOR GOOD BEHAVIOR! It’s booze and music for me again! I’M FREE AGAIN!!!

Lucie: ARGH! Oh mother-huffin-chuffin-hell-mugging-Jerusalem! This is the worst pain ever... no, THIS is the worst pain ever!!
Doctor: You’ll be fine.
Lucie: I’m not fine! I need to get to hospital or something!
Doctor: You know, Charley said something similar. It was total bollocks then and it’s crap now.
Lucie: I know me own body!
Doctor: She said that too, the liar.
Lucie: I need crisp white sheets to ruin with placental flob, lots of pain killers and ice...
Doctor: Oh, come on, no one calls it "ice" except narcotics officers. You want meth amphetamines? SAY meth amphetamines! Honestly, you 21st century teen mums, everything’s got to be like a rave, you can’t even have babies without drugs and disco music...
Lucie: OW-W-W-W! I’M DYIN! I’m dyin, I’m about to die!
Doctor: This is uncanny. Did you two share a script or something?
Lucie: Doctor! Help! The baby’s tryna kill me!
Doctor: Such judgment in one so young, eh?
Lucie: OH JESUS CHRIST, MARY AND JAY-LO!
Doctor: Sorry, if you can’t think up something even halfway original, I don’t see much point even talking to you...

Avon: And they sent me to the bugs to be slain, to be slain!
And they sent me to the bugs to be slain!

Doctor: It’s one of those unfathomably beautiful sights, isn’t it? Simple, yet awesome...
Lucie: My fertile figure in all its voluptuous glory you mean?
Doctor: Hell no, Lucie! I was talking about this XXX-Rated Billie Piper Swimsuit Calendar I found in the escape pod!
Lucie: Why don’t *I* get a Swimsuit Calendar?! Don’t people find me as attractive as her?
Doctor: [shrugs] It takes all sorts to make a universe...
Lucie: You really think so?
Doctor: No. The older I get, the less sure I am about anything. Perhaps the only truth is in sexual fetish, nature’s way of getting everyone a decent shag...

Clyde: They’re everywhere – kinda like God. Or Polish people.


Dialogue Triumphs -

Avon: What does a subnormal halfwit like you claim as an intellect?
Lucie: Oh, I dunno, "never judge a book by its cover"?
Avon: If a book’s cover doesn’t tell you everything you need to know, then it is not a book worth reading.
Lucie: VERY clever!
Avon: I usually am.

Smelly Ed: It’s got your eyes, your teeth, your strange duck-like voice, and some of your afterbirth as well...

Lucie: [groans] Blummin hell! Won’t be long now! Head’s getting close!
Avon: ...are you still talking?
Lucie: Yeah! I am, actually!
Avon: Well, don’t.
Lucie: You don’t fool me, Avon, with your ridiculously tight leather pants and brooding stare! I’ve seen a lot of people trying to hide their desire for my curvaceous body in my time... a lot... I don’t need you freaking out when the lust makes you want to ravish me right here and now...
(Avon draws his gun.)
Lucie: Oooh, whattya gonna do? Shoot me?
Avon: Very probably. You are not sexy at the best of times and these are not the best of times. I’m not attracted to you.
Lucie: Well, you should be!
Avon: It’s hard to imagine how someone with your charm could remain single and alone.
Lucie: Har-har! Oh, wait, that WAS a sarcastic retort, wasn’t it?
Avon: You tell me.
Lucie: Are you flirting with me?
(Avon shoots her in the foot.)
Avon: Wrong question.

Lucie: Ooh, look at my baby! I could just vomit with love!
Doctor: I too am overcome with a similar desire, Lucie, albeit for a different reason.
Lucie: Oi! How dare you! Fourteen hours of labor, the miracle of life, a whole new species! You’re just jealous coz your life is empty! All you’ve got is that your stupid police box and being the biggest twat in the cosmos!
Doctor: My dear Lucie, don’t bring "big twats" into this conversation because you’re on a loser already...

Wirrrn Queen: We are the most perfect species in creation! In the universe! There is nothing superior to our divinity! We are life, we are death, we are the beginning and the end, we are all together! All species will become us! WE ARE THE WIRRRN! COO-COO-CA-CHOO!

Lucie: Am I thin again?
Smelly Ed: A clue. No.
Lucie: Just be glad I don’t know if you have any testicles, mate!
Avon: [in agony] Don’t I know it!


UnQuotable Quote -
Lucie: What a clever space bug... do it again! Do it again for mummy!


Viewer Quotes -

"Despite my vowing to not bother with Eighth Doctor after the disappointment of the last series, I was sucked in again. Oh god how I hate my life. Is there any respite from this litany of misery?"
– Kevin Rudd (2010)

"BBV did this better! Just like with the Krynoids! Big Finish should stop deluding themselves!" – Nigel Fairs (and he’s right, you know)

"This is just the story of story I would be plagiarizing for Matt Smith’s second season, since that diseased tool Moffat has insisted on writing the first... And while we’re on the subject, the new series must make YET ANOTHER sequel to The Weird Planet with superb modern special effects to make up for the lack of any actual ideas! There should be word-for-word remakes of Planet of Weevil, only with Dustbins, Lavros, Ice Cream Vendors, Silly Lurians, She Devils, Bygones but NOT Leonard Nimoy OR Bertie Bassett! Personally, I’d much rather they brought back the Sorbet or those silly giant spiders. It’s just a pity Big Finish are not canon since they refuse to make stories about Ben Chatham!" – Sparacus "Flamingo" Jones (2009)

"Mucky business." – Mr. Gormsby (2004)

"Not worth stealing off bit torrent." – Jonathon This (2010)

"Wirrrn-Born by Nicholas Briggs. That’s everything you need to know about the current BF output. Right there. I wonder who might be doing the voices?" – Russell T Davies (2009)


Psychotic Nostalgia -
"You know women don’t get periods when they’re pregnant? That’s because all babies are vampires and drink the blood! It’s little-known facts like that you need to be aware of when you’re a renowned Harley Street gynecologist like I am..."


Paul McGann Speaks!
"The Eighth Doctor is an iconoclast - there’s a rebel heart there. Well, one of them. With this Doctor, I want to break the mould and I’m NOT just saying that in the hope it makes me sound more interesting than a kipper. And when you’re up against a floating pink cloud in a gorilla costume and an unwed zombie teenage mum, you NEED to be more interesting than a kipper. How could a kipper ever match up to that? Why are we even talking about kippers anyway? God I’m hungry. I could murder a kipper. That’d be pretty interesting, wouldn’t it?"


Sheridan Smith Speaks!
"This one’s quite scary. I’m never going to have kids now. It’s making me go all goosebumpy now, just thinking about it. I’ll tell you this for nothing, I’m never taking my perineum for granted ever again!"


Eddie Hitler Speaks!
"A lot of people think Alien is a rip-off of The Lark In Space. Absolutely no idea why. One’s about some hard-bitten human space explorers being hemmed in by a hideous extraterrestrial threat that consumes the victims from within... and the other’s about Tom Baker pissing about with bubble-wrap in the BBC. I always liked Alien. I often used to dress up as one for costume parties. All you needed was a motorbike chassis strapped to your head, a black body-stocking and the ability to drool uncontrollably. I then lumbered around trying to impregnate any girl that looked remotely like Sigourney Weaver. Still, no harm in trying, as I said to the magistrate..."


Trivia -
This is the fourth story of the season. Not the third. You’d be amazed just how many people completely forget all about The Breasts of Warlock. Especially as this means they WANT to remember this story.


Rumors & Facts -

Conceived in violence, carried in terror, born to devastate and brutalize, this story was at one point going to be the second-last tale of the season, just before the epic season finale – but Eddie Hitler was loathe of making it too similar to the earlier story Nowhere-Land which similarly had a companion of the Eighth Doctor give birth to unspeakable horrors to boost ratings near the end of the run.

"Real life isn’t like that!" he ranted at an empty goldfish bowl, insisting that it would be more surprising and realistic if they got rid of Lucie’s parturiency as soon as possible.

Rather than take the "very poofy" approach of Stargate: Universe and simply put Lucie into a machine-gun-fight and hope for a spontaneous miscarriage, Hitler wanted something avant-garde. Something novel. And preferably something that showed childbirth for the disgustingly pointless method of biodata reproduction it actually was.

Course they could have got, say, a WOMAN to write it like Jac Rayner’s novel for Bernice Summerfield ("For God’s Sake, Give Me An Epidural You Asexual Bastards!" from the inappropriately-entitled Virgin Range). But, curiously enough, none of the female writers were willing to go anywhere near Edward Hitler after the last office party where he tried to convince Nasty Lynda to have sex with his flat-mate, Richie.

That patch of carpet STILL isn’t clean, you know.

After the previous light-weight season of amputations, throats being ripped out and of course evil mime Goodies, Hitler wanted Doctor Who to be quite dark – he also wanted the studios to be quite dark as well, since he still had a raging hangover from the aforementioned party.

Hitler would not be able to pen this important story and indeed would not be able to stop throwing up his own kidneys, and thus a new writer had be found to write the bloody thing. And that man was David Sax, the pleasant, sane, bearded creature that Nicholas Briggs had been transformed into following that nasty incident with BBC Wales’ working Chameleon Arch prop.

Indeed, the only hint this story is by the same man that perpetrated Season 28’s Bored of Ironing is the sound plotline, the unsubtle audio description with characters describing their actions step-by-step. Well, that and the companion having an orgasm in a slightly-too-tight spacesuit, anyway.

Wirrrn-Born was a production that ticked every box in a pretty humdrum way with a been-there done-that feel that is to be expected when you’re ripping off a well-known story scene by scene from some seven years prior starring the exact same Doctor.

It is a story that will have you laughing out aloud one moment and wincing the next, rather like Lucie when she has too much gas and air to cope with the contractions that balance some truly harrowing gynecological moments guaranteed to have listeners of both sexes crossing their legs in sympathy.

The final scenes are justly appalling and recognize the truly alien nature of the Doctor who can merely dismiss the whole thing with "That looks like it might sting a bit," and wander off, bored. Yes, I had my qualms too but as the Doctor says, it's not about right and wrong – it’s about trying to tie up an integral yet rather mediocre plotline in two episodes and, in other words, it’s pointless to expect anything other than the ungodly horror witnessed here.

Mind you, there have been worse stories than this conveyor belt of set-pieces that you really would not think could work on audio, like the last story Nicholas Briggs was responsible for. But if you want some dirty space opera with perhaps just a smattering of the erotic, and that is exactly what you get for your money. Unless you nicked it like I did. In which case, what the hell are you complaining about?

And so in all, abounding as it is with some epic set pieces and some
lovely poetic dialogue, Wirrrn-Born is the sort of story one would only recommend if you had an unhealthy obsession with female genitalia and mid-1970s monsters. So universal appeal there, then.

Personally, I only like the moving musical number at the end of the story with the peace between Wirrrn and Mankind forged forever, as Clyde sings a touching Chumbawamba cover version as insectoids played piano-accordions and GalSex soldiers strum acoustic guitars...


It’s a sermon on the mountain as peace is declared
Between Mankind and Wirrrn and the love we share
Last year’s enemy becomes this year’s friend,
Another slimy handshake and we’re on the road again!

A million golden ages as television is dumbed down
Means fighting alien monsters? That logic is unsound!
Now Lucie’s litter will give us common ground
Humanity and Wirrrn babies won’t get pushed around

Spoils for the old guard, opportunities for the new boys
We’re just putting together what we just destroyed!
Two species stand united in artistic integrity
We will fight not each other but intellectual snobbery!

On this Jacob’s Ladder the only up is down!
One step from disaster two to take the moral high ground!

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