Doctor Who and the Hole in the Ground

The Doctor Who is called back to Wales. But it's not the rift. It's the Kumars at No. 42, the world's smallest mining company, who are in the process of drilling into the Earth.

"Hi Granny Kumar," says the Doctor Who. "I came as soon as I could. What seems to be the trouble?"

"Oh thank the lord," says Granny Kumar. " We're just trying to drill into the ground to meet your old friends the Silurians."

"Oh, that's nice," says the Doctor Who.

"Yes," says Granny Kumar. "But we are constantly being bothered by that chap over there. Says he's a friend of yours. He keeps telling us not to dig there, but to dig it elsewhere. That we're digging it round and it ought to be square."

The Doctor Who glances over. It's Wilf! The Time Lord is not pleased. "We'll soon see about that," he says.


The Doctor Who and Wilf are seated in their favourite cafe again. The Doctor Who is still unhappy. "Look, you motherf***er. You shouldn't be here. You're RTD's monster. You're in the wrong timestream."

Wilf pulls down his woolly hat, then tries to explain his position: "I'm sorry, Doctor. But the shape of it's wrong, it's much much too long, and you can't put a hole where a hole don't belong."

The Doctor Who can take no more. Once again he falls back on his old solution. He rushes out to his van, grabs a gun and blasts Wilf  out of existence - just as his old Silurian friend is popping out of the ground. The Silurian looks at the horrific bloodshed and wails: "There should have been another way!"

Archivist: Suthers

Doctor Who Behaving Badly (aka Amy's Crack)

The Doctor Who and Rory are slumped on the sofa next to Amy, knocking back lagers, swapping knob gags and watching the telly. Amy, several months pregnant, is getting fed up with their childish banter.

"Cor, look at the hooters on that one," says the Doctor Gary as he stares into the goggle box. "Phwoarrr! I'd give 'er one."

"Right, that's it," says Amy. "It's about time you grew up." The Doctor Who turns to her. "I look young for my age. But I'm really 940 years old." Then he and Rory both dissolve into fits of uncontrollable laughter.

But then the Doctor Who looks back and has spotted something. "You look like you swallowed a planet. Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"

Amy replies: "Yes, I'm pregnant."

"You're bloody huge, you are, ha ha ha ha," chips in Rory.

"Yes," replies Amy. "I'm pregnant."

The Doctor Who is passing out in an alcoholic haze. But something has registered. "Are you pregnant?" he asks before everything goes black.


The Doctor Who is in the office trying to sell burglar alarms. He is wary about the old folk, George and Anthea, working with him. Their old-fashioned ways drive him to exasperation. "Are you OK," asks Anthea. "It's all right," says the Doctor Who. "I just had a mare." They get back to work. It is all so tedious that the day becomes a blur.


The Doctor Who, Amy and Rory are slumped back on the sofa. Doctor Gary and Tony, sorry, Rory are guzzling lager, giggling and talking about sex. It feels like Groundhog Day all over again.

Then the Doctor Who notices that he has switched from the office to his sofa again. "Rory," he says. "How did we get here?"

"That's a bit philosophical for this time of night," says Rory. "Let's have another lager. And look at the headlights on that!" "Ha ha ha ha ha," says the Doctor Who. Then he notices Amy's bulge again. "Are you all right," he asks. "You look all elephanty."

Amy just sighs. "I wanted to watch Graham Norton," she says. "But I couldn't set the video." "Yes, I'm sorry about that," says the Doctor Who. "I threw the manual into a supernova."


The Doctor Who is back in the office trying to sell burglar alarms. He is wary about the old folk, George and Anthea, working with him. They have parked their zimmer frames by the door. Everything becomes a blur.

(This was a recursive story. Please return to paragraph one.)

Archivist: Suthers

Bog Standard in Venice

Look out Amy, it's the Bog Standard!

The Doctor Who meets some bog standard monsters with a fairly bog standard plan and it's all quite bog standard. The Bog Standards (from the planet Bog Standard) feel they are season finale material as they have a device that can flood cities and are kind of like vampires and have a family dynamic thing going which they consider quite novel but The Doctor Who tells them that he's done vampires, that the Slitheen and the Family of Blood beat them to the family thing and, despite the wonderful location, it's all just really "bog standard". "You may as well just go and call me DoKtooorrrr while you're at it" says the Time Lad as he climbs onto their roof and switches off their machine with considerably less bother than the late Rod Hull had fixing his telly reception.

Meanwhile, Amy gets bored so she makes simple minded dog's body Rory fight one of the Bog Standard for her amusement, a bit like Estella does to Pip in Great Expectations except Rory is quite a bit older than Pip and should have a bit of self-respect but oh no, off he goes. Eejit.

Archivist: Garr

Angels Having the Crack!

Pictured above: "Oh, for f**k's sake"

Three weeping angels have a head to head about what to do next...

AGNES: Right girls, they are on to the whole blinking gimmick and closing one eye at a time. We'll have to come up with some new tricks.

BERNADETTE: We could pounce out of CCTV footage.

AGNES: Yeah, that's not bad.

PHILOMENA: We could get inside their eyeballs and freak them out.

BERNADETTE (ignoring Philomena): I can do quite a good imitation of that bloke we just killed, what's his name, Bob. I could do his voice on the walkie talkie.

AGNES: Oooh, creepy, but can you work the walkie talkie?

BERNADETTE: As long as no one's watching.

PHILOMENA: We could nick the Doctor's coat.

BERNADETTE (incredulously): Pardon?

PHILOMENA: We could nick the Doctor's coat and give him a wedgie.

BERNADETTE: A wedgie??? Wedgie's aren't scary.

PHILOMENA: They are.

BERNADETTE: No they aren't, they're stupid.

PHILOMENA: You're stupid.

BERNADETTE: Oh come on! You want to nick his coat and give him a wedgie? We'll be the laughing stock.

PHILOMENA: You'll be the laughing stock.

BERNADETTE: What does that even mean?

PHILOMENA: What do you even mean?

BERNADETTE (to Agnes about Philomena): She's a fruitcake. I can't work with her.

PHILOMENA: You're the fruitcake you can't work with her.

BERNADETTE: OK, that definitely made no sense.

PHILOMENA: You definitely made no sense.

AGNES: OK you two. Knock it off. Now, does anyone feel that draft?

BERNADETTE: It seems to be coming from that crack.

PHILOMENA: More like, it seems to be coming from your crack.

BERNADETTE: Oh, for f**k's sake.

PHILOMENA: You're for f**k's sake.

BERNADETTE: What is your problem?

PHILOMENA: You're my problem, Drafty Crack!

AGNES: Ah now girls, come on.

BERNADETTE: Look, I'm going to do the walkie talkie thing. You two can nick coats and give wedgies or whatever you like.

Bernadette exits the scene.

PHILOMENA (shouting): Fine, we will (mutters) ...drafty cracked queef merchant.

Archivist: Garr
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