<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502</id><updated>2011-09-28T18:29:53.293+01:00</updated><category term='Doctor Ten'/><category term='Doctor Five'/><category term='Doctor Seven'/><category term='Doctor Three'/><category term='elisabeth sladen'/><category term='Doctor One'/><category term='Doctor Six'/><category term='Doctor Lite'/><category term='Doctor Four'/><category term='Doctor Nine'/><category term='spoilt'/><category term='Doctor Whatever'/><category term='Doctor Eleven'/><category term='amy pond'/><category term='Stefan Moffitt'/><category term='Doctor Two'/><category term='Doctor Eight'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who. Retold</title><subtitle type='html'>Lost or forgotten episodes of the Doctor Who brought back to life thanks to the memories of a dedicated team of archivists.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>145</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2606652946194632167</id><published>2011-04-20T13:00:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T13:02:13.108+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='elisabeth sladen'/><title type='text'>Farwell</title><content type='html'>&lt;iframe title="YouTube video player" width="425" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/thjWMWzUa30?rel=0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2606652946194632167?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2606652946194632167/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2011/04/farwell.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2606652946194632167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2606652946194632167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2011/04/farwell.html' title='Farwell'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/thjWMWzUa30/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7208083706631545567</id><published>2011-04-18T16:47:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-18T17:12:30.907+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>MOFFAT'S PEAK</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4txEY8J7jRY/TaxdYWx-_SI/AAAAAAAAAC8/8gkXHPJrlSk/s1600/river%2Bhippy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 204px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4txEY8J7jRY/TaxdYWx-_SI/AAAAAAAAAC8/8gkXHPJrlSk/s320/river%2Bhippy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596951109928156450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Pictured - River Song at The Burning Man Festival)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the astral peninsula that is Moffat's Peak, in the wooded land of Whispering Wonders and Half Hints, The Doctor Who, Amy of the Crack and Rory of the Badly Treated witness the death of one who is destined to live forever... but what does this mean for the Timelad, his nymphomaniacal companion and cuckolded competition and who are the mysterious Emergent and what is the secret of the revolving Meringue Island in the Ocean of Dreams Undreamt? What is that lurking behind our heroes? Where did Rory leave his MP3 player? What is that strange badger doing on the veranda? Where did River Song get that new age hippy name? Will all this even take place and if not why not and why not if not and if not why? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the four will die yet all will live but be forever changed whilst remaining very much exactly the same in the Contradictory Cluster in the Realm of WTF that is home to the astral peninsula that is Moffat's Peak ...or something.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Spoilers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7208083706631545567?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7208083706631545567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2011/04/moffats-peak.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7208083706631545567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7208083706631545567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2011/04/moffats-peak.html' title='MOFFAT&apos;S PEAK'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4txEY8J7jRY/TaxdYWx-_SI/AAAAAAAAAC8/8gkXHPJrlSk/s72-c/river%2Bhippy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2186300673317996982</id><published>2011-03-30T06:52:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-03-30T06:52:08.074+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Curse of Impossible Recycling</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jMiid1oxHRc/TZLEhnczEOI/AAAAAAAAGSs/nNneVfqgCU4/s1600/whitehousewho.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="242" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jMiid1oxHRc/TZLEhnczEOI/AAAAAAAAGSs/nNneVfqgCU4/s400/whitehousewho.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Domino's Pizzas, Washington&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;i&gt;The White House. A phone is ringing.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doctor Who the Northern&lt;/b&gt;: "It's ringin'. How is it ringin'?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nixon:&lt;/b&gt; "Hello"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Silence&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nixon&lt;/b&gt;: "This is the President."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Child's voice:&lt;/b&gt; "Are you my mummy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nixon:&lt;/b&gt; "This is the President of the United States."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; "Hello, is that Domino's? I'd like to order a pizza."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nixon:&lt;/b&gt; "This is the President of the United States. Who is this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Child's voice:&lt;/b&gt; "Are you my mummy?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nixon:&lt;/b&gt; "Is it you again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; "No, it's me. I'd like to order a pizza."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nixon:&lt;/b&gt; How did you get this number?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Child's voice:&lt;/b&gt; "Look behind you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; "Fook off kid, I'm tryin' to order a pizza."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nixon:&lt;/b&gt; "There is nothing behind me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Child's voice:&lt;/b&gt; "They're everywhere. The spaceman told me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; "I fookin' did not. And I want extra pineapple."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Child's voice:&lt;/b&gt; "Please. You've got to look behind you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Nixon:&lt;/b&gt; "There are no pizzas in the Oval Office."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Silence falls.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2186300673317996982?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2186300673317996982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2011/03/doctor-who-and-curse-of-impossible.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2186300673317996982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2186300673317996982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2011/03/doctor-who-and-curse-of-impossible.html' title='Doctor Who and the Curse of Impossible Recycling'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jMiid1oxHRc/TZLEhnczEOI/AAAAAAAAGSs/nNneVfqgCU4/s72-c/whitehousewho.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8170642237815892948</id><published>2011-03-23T22:39:00.006Z</published><updated>2011-03-23T22:51:33.129Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and 'That Kind'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p2yCWlOmL14/TYp40dT9f7I/AAAAAAAAAC0/S7sSPztQqD8/s1600/weissmuller.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 201px; height: 251px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p2yCWlOmL14/TYp40dT9f7I/AAAAAAAAAC0/S7sSPztQqD8/s320/weissmuller.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5587411130323402674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Das Doctor Who, you give Johnny das kisses now, Ja?"&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Dreamlord traps The Doctor Who in a decadent slash fiction Weimar Republic where The Doctor Who has to get off with Johnny Weissmuller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then The Doctor Who meets a new companion and she is seriously bad at singing. REALLY bad. Brutal at it! As if that wasn't bad enough, she's even more self-absorbed than Amy Pond who is busy showing her crack to Rory through a glass floor for Red Nose Day to raise money for acting lessons for Lenny Henry so he can convincingly cry the next time he meets some impoverished Africans. Das Gerooooonimo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8170642237815892948?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8170642237815892948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2011/03/doctor-who-and-that-kind.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8170642237815892948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8170642237815892948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2011/03/doctor-who-and-that-kind.html' title='The Doctor Who and &apos;That Kind&apos;'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-p2yCWlOmL14/TYp40dT9f7I/AAAAAAAAAC0/S7sSPztQqD8/s72-c/weissmuller.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-1331947330470977815</id><published>2010-12-27T17:08:00.009Z</published><updated>2010-12-29T05:01:58.287Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and the ONE MORE TUNE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TRjIYcQUsmI/AAAAAAAAACo/GP9VQtPePn8/s1600/abigail.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5555410462588580450" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TRjIYcQUsmI/AAAAAAAAACo/GP9VQtPePn8/s320/abigail.jpg" style="float: left; height: 320px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; width: 295px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small; font-style: italic;"&gt;(Pictured, Abigail in full song.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Please The Doctor Who, I’m tired and weak and I must return to my chamber,” says Abigail.&lt;br /&gt;“Ah, give us another tune,” insists The Doctor Who (just as he insists every Christmas after opening the ice box and making the timer run down).&lt;br /&gt;“Well, one more but then I really must return to my rest for fear of death,” says a weary Abigail before bursting into song and delighting The Doctor Who and various floating cod and haddock.&lt;br /&gt;Abigail concludes her beautiful performance and quickly makes for her ice box thing but The Doctor Who blocks her way and starts to clap and chant “ONE MORE TUNE! ONE MORE TUNE! ONE MORE TUNE!”&lt;br /&gt;Startled and disturbed by the implicit threat of The Doctor Who’s unnerving enthusiasm, Abigail once again breaks into song.&lt;br /&gt;As Abigail finishes an astonishingly moving performance, she collapses to the ground and loses consciousness. The Doctor Who then bundles her back into the cooler with a few “bruskis” for next year but as he does so he realises that she is no more. Sir Kazran Gambon bursts into angry tears and rages at The Doctor Who’s selfish hubris. “Ah relax,” says The Doctor Who “there’s plenty more fish in the fog” and he points at a brown trout that dangles in the air nearby. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-1331947330470977815?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/1331947330470977815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/12/doctor-who-and-one-more-tune.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1331947330470977815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1331947330470977815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/12/doctor-who-and-one-more-tune.html' title='The Doctor Who and the ONE MORE TUNE!'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TRjIYcQUsmI/AAAAAAAAACo/GP9VQtPePn8/s72-c/abigail.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6026381511596640890</id><published>2010-12-13T21:16:00.004Z</published><updated>2010-12-13T21:34:02.348Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who in the Nip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TQaNfSf0V7I/AAAAAAAAACc/BCJf6NfIvGc/s1600/Who-Lennon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TQaNfSf0V7I/AAAAAAAAACc/BCJf6NfIvGc/s320/Who-Lennon.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5550279159461468082" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tosh becomes The Doctor Who's companion and hangs around the TARDIS being weird. The two start banging on the cloister bell and screaming "Haroon Haroon Haroon Haroon" into the early hours and when Rose comes in to complain they are rude to her and say things like "are you still here?" which causes Rose to go off to that empty swimming pool place alone and cry into her chips.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the Daleks start a war but The Doctor Who and Tosh stop it by staying in bed for days on end, going around in the nip, and scrawling strange words like 'wish' on the TARDIS roundels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually, the Master has had enough of all this nonsense so he disguises himself as a dedicated Whovian and shoots The Doctor Who. Tosh commemorates The Doctor Who by having sweatshop Ood stitch the word 'fantastic' into Nike's latest footwear product.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6026381511596640890?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6026381511596640890/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/12/doctor-who-in-nip.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6026381511596640890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6026381511596640890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/12/doctor-who-in-nip.html' title='The Doctor Who in the Nip'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TQaNfSf0V7I/AAAAAAAAACc/BCJf6NfIvGc/s72-c/Who-Lennon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8977930630297573211</id><published>2010-11-23T12:40:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-11-23T12:41:12.828Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Last Great Dime War</title><content type='html'>Rose wakes to find that the northern Doctor Who is no longer by her side. She runs through the Tardis's labyrinthian corridors to find him seated by the console, his head in his hands, deep in contemplation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TOu1wdthj8I/AAAAAAAAFmg/IKrhWCO_qnQ/s1600/bank.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="195" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TOu1wdthj8I/AAAAAAAAFmg/IKrhWCO_qnQ/s320/bank.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"Hello an'at," she says by way of greeting. "Wassa matter wiv you then? You're not finking abaht bloody planet Ireland again are you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who looks up. "I was there Rose. I was there for the last great Dime War. When no one had a dime. I saw it happen. I made it happen. The whole country burned, the people's money all lost."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose reached out a hand to touch the shoulder of the man she loved. "But everyfink turned out all right, didn't it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No Rose. I lost everything. We were wiped out by the evil Dail-eks. The Dime Lords from Gallifrey's IMForeman junk bond branch tried to save us with a loan but we had to sell the whole planet to our deadly enemies the Brits as a theme park..." The Doctor Who's voice trailed away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose wonders what she can say to help. But all she can blurt out is: "Can I 'ave some chips?"&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8977930630297573211?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8977930630297573211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/11/doctor-who-and-last-great-dime-war.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8977930630297573211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8977930630297573211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/11/doctor-who-and-last-great-dime-war.html' title='Doctor Who and the Last Great Dime War'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TOu1wdthj8I/AAAAAAAAFmg/IKrhWCO_qnQ/s72-c/bank.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6737921723239943603</id><published>2010-11-15T22:06:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-11-17T08:01:19.755Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>The Drunken Doctor Who Goes Bad</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who becomes an alcoholic during a stint when he breaks off from saving the universe to work as a plumber on Metabilis 3 to raise a bit of cash for granddaughter Susan's wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TOGueMqrSWI/AAAAAAAAFmc/hVuJBKPW0ao/s1600/christopher_eccleston.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TOGueMqrSWI/AAAAAAAAFmc/hVuJBKPW0ao/s320/christopher_eccleston.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;When he discovers that Davros's cheque has bounced, he smashes up the planet and escapes by taxi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His new evil persona leads the Doctor Who to steal £20,000 that the taxi driver asked him to look after in the back of the cab. It is discovered to have been forged by his deadly enemies the Chumblies and he is sent to jail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who thinks it is just like that time in Bad Wolf when he was incarcerated aboard Satellite Seven - but this time he deserves it for his evil.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6737921723239943603?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6737921723239943603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/11/drunken-doctor-who-goes-bad.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6737921723239943603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6737921723239943603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/11/drunken-doctor-who-goes-bad.html' title='The Drunken Doctor Who Goes Bad'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TOGueMqrSWI/AAAAAAAAFmc/hVuJBKPW0ao/s72-c/christopher_eccleston.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-949784585219808819</id><published>2010-10-26T20:47:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T08:00:41.776Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Crossover Conference</title><content type='html'>"..and then the Doctor Who says: 'Get out of my Tardis you baked old bat. Back to the Amazon with you, Jo Grant'. Credits roll. Da-dah!" Wide-eyed, RTD settled his enormous frame back in his chair, looking equally enormously pleased with himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TMctYVlNZaI/AAAAAAAAFmA/ae3MgKmzjMw/s1600/russell-t-davies.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TMctYVlNZaI/AAAAAAAAFmA/ae3MgKmzjMw/s320/russell-t-davies.JPG" width="273" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Moffat stared disbelievingly for several seconds at the sweaty buffoon sitting across his desk. "I'm sorry Russell, it ain't gonna happen. He's my Doctor Who now and..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sarah Jane is &lt;b&gt;my&lt;/b&gt; show," interjected the excited oaf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's &lt;b&gt;my&lt;/b&gt; Doctor Who and, well, I can see I'm going to have to vet this script very closely," insisted the curly-haired showrunner. "But let's get back to the plot. Can you run it past me again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;RTD was quivering with excitement like a giant jelly. Well, it's called Death of the Doctor and everyone thinks that the Doctor Who is dead. And it turns out he isn't!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Mighty Moff pondered for a moment. "Remind me of some of your previous storylines. What was that Weakest Link one again?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yes," Russell with a proud chortle, "That was Bad Wolf where Rose got zapped and everyone thought she was dead - but she wasn't!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moffat sighed. "And what about Doomsday? You know, 'This is the story of how I died?'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ha ha!" came the reply. "Yes, that's the one where everyone thought Rose was going to die. But she &lt;b&gt;didn't&lt;/b&gt;. I had them all going with that one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Moff rolled his eyes, sensing a theme. "And The Stolen Earth?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh yes, I was very pleased with that one. The Doctor Who got zapped by a Dalek and everyone thought he was going to die. But - big surprise - he siphoned off the energy from his hand, his handy spare hand. And, er, he didn't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steven had had enough. He flicked the switch on his intercom and called one word. "Security!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-949784585219808819?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/949784585219808819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/10/doctor-who-and-crossover-conference.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/949784585219808819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/949784585219808819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/10/doctor-who-and-crossover-conference.html' title='Doctor Who and the Crossover Conference'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TMctYVlNZaI/AAAAAAAAFmA/ae3MgKmzjMw/s72-c/russell-t-davies.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-501023474753485624</id><published>2010-10-01T19:10:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T19:20:59.668+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Two'/><title type='text'>The Mine Drobber</title><content type='html'>In a bid to 'Turn on, tune in and drop out' Zoe Herriot spikes the Tardis sandwiches with LSD and the whole jolly crew lie on the floor for five weeks having a gestalt hallucination. All their favourite characters from books come to visit them. Doctor Who's favourite books are, of course, the Target novels and so he relives all of his past and future apart from one or two adventures that are annoyingly missed out. He wakes from the bad trip muttering "what exactly was the second segment of the Key to Time?". He flips the fast return switch and they do it all over again. Caught in such a dreadful paradox, the show is almost cancelled after the 12 consecutive repeat of The Mine Drobber. &lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Archivist: Ogronic&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-501023474753485624?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/501023474753485624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/10/mine-drobber.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/501023474753485624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/501023474753485624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/10/mine-drobber.html' title='The Mine Drobber'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-566725686371263230</id><published>2010-10-01T19:00:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-10-01T19:41:31.971+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Two'/><title type='text'>The Invision</title><content type='html'>Zoe again causes mayhem when she decides to become a fashion model. She insists that she does a series of highly suspect photo-shoots, ending in one where she and Isobel are encouraged to lock lips dressed only in feather boas. Meanwhile, Soho porn baron Tobias Vaughn is creating a race of 'fetish-men' for himself and his slave who goes by the nickname 'Packer'. The Doctor is drawn into the seedy world through chasing Zoe and discovers Vaughn's dastardly plans. He gets a sound spanking from Jamie and they whisk Zoe off onto more adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Archivist: Ogronic&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-566725686371263230?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/566725686371263230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/10/invision.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/566725686371263230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/566725686371263230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/10/invision.html' title='The Invision'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6621937324272810813</id><published>2010-09-28T20:04:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-30T13:22:26.073+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Stefan Moffitt'/><title type='text'>Production Notes by Stefan Moffitt</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;As an occasional interlude between archived tales, we are delighted that the Doctor Who showrunner Stefan Moffitt has agreed to contribute an occasional column detailing his exciting life producing our Saturday teatime favourite.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't tell you how exciting it was to get my hands on my favourite show - spoilers! - but it was like getting all the toys you wanted for Christmas. And best of all, I got to snatch it from the podgy fingers of that fat buffoon Rusty and take it back to the show we all knew and loved as kids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TKI66XFTNiI/AAAAAAAAFlg/_8kZogiaRyc/s1600/beastbelow.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TKI66XFTNiI/AAAAAAAAFlg/_8kZogiaRyc/s320/beastbelow.jpeg" width="275" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Stefan Moffitt&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div&gt;It gives me a thrill today to hang around outside schools hearing the youngsters shouting classic Dalek lines like &lt;i&gt;"Would you care for some tea?"&lt;/i&gt; just as we did in playgrounds in the sixties and seventies.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And though the duty officer down at the station warned me to stay away from the school gates in future, I felt I was able to persuade him of my true motives thanks to my much admired creative skills.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I knew I wanted to take the show back to its roots which is why I have been busy changing everything. You may think Rusty ruined the Cybermen, but even he was astonished at my success at wrecking the Daleks.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh Stefan, I'm full of awe," he exclaimed breathlessly on the blower. "I thought your new Tardis interior was taking a few liberties but destroying the fundamental form of the Doctor Who's greatest foes is a masterstroke. I wish I'd done it."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then he started begging to write more Who. In his dreams!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No, it is my show now and I'll decide what goes in, thank you very much indeedy-doody. I want new monsters rather than tired old fiends which is why the first thing I did was bring all the old favourites back for my first finale. And what a joy to be able to write any story with the most ridiculous cliffhanger and just get out of it with some timey-wimey nonsense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Enough!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;i&gt;Stefan Moffitt&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6621937324272810813?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6621937324272810813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/09/production-notes-by-stefan-moffitt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6621937324272810813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6621937324272810813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/09/production-notes-by-stefan-moffitt.html' title='Production Notes by Stefan Moffitt'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TKI66XFTNiI/AAAAAAAAFlg/_8kZogiaRyc/s72-c/beastbelow.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-1987227155607234542</id><published>2010-09-06T22:48:00.010+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T23:31:11.118+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who Ruins the Proms</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TIViU0_IlOI/AAAAAAAAACU/2TFfsvqXRRM/s1600/Who+Proms.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 202px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TIViU0_IlOI/AAAAAAAAACU/2TFfsvqXRRM/s320/Who+Proms.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513921428745393378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Above: The Doctor Who - just before the savage outburst.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the monsters and families are having a lovely time listening to Mr. Gold's music at the Proms when The Doctor Who shows up with a bomb type thing he must deactivate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"You, child, help me defuse this bomb thing,"&lt;/span&gt; says The Doctor Who as he pulls a little boy from the crowd and places a highly dangerous fuse between the child's teeth. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Don't open your mouth!"&lt;/span&gt; orders The Doctor Who before asking the boy his name. The boy opens his mouth to answer and The Doctor Who freaks out in a Gordon (I have lady hair and am easily defeated in physical combat) Ramsey type of way..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Don't open your mouth! What the f**k do you think you are doing? Do you want to kill everyone? Are you stupid?"&lt;/span&gt; roars the Timelad. &lt;br /&gt;The little boy shakes his head to say 'no' without moving his mouth but The Doctor Who freaks out again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Don't move your f***ing head you f***ing idiot!"&lt;/span&gt; shouts The Doctor Who, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Christ above, it's like Adric all over again."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The little boy has tears in his eyes and is frozen to the spot, unsure what to do (like Matthew often was whilst on set with the beastly Tom - but that's a different story). The Doctor Who looks like he might kick the child up the arse but then Amy pops up and says,&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt; "for God's sake the Doctor Who, he's only eight years old!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who places a hand over his eyes, breathes deeply and seems to calm down slightly. Then he strides toward the boy, yanks the fuse from his mouth and storms off. &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"Oh, it's Mr. Grumpy Face today,"&lt;/span&gt; says Amy, causing The Doctor Who to turn and mutter, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;"oh what the f**k would you know about it, you probably just want to snog the little s**t."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And THAT is what ACTUALLY happened!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-1987227155607234542?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/1987227155607234542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/09/doctor-who-ruins-proms.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1987227155607234542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1987227155607234542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/09/doctor-who-ruins-proms.html' title='The Doctor Who Ruins the Proms'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TIViU0_IlOI/AAAAAAAAACU/2TFfsvqXRRM/s72-c/Who+Proms.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-3571480289017358519</id><published>2010-08-06T17:50:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-06T18:04:37.078+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who's fancy dress party</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who gets a call on the Space Time Visualiser from River Song inviting him to a mid-summer rave at Stonehenge. "Promise there won't be any Vashta Nerada shadow monsters?" asks the Doctor Who. "What are they," replies his wife, "don't forget I'm not supposed to have met them yet, silly!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TFw8vGpKv6I/AAAAAAAAFkA/gbjSWIP9Olw/s1600/Tommycooper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TFw8vGpKv6I/AAAAAAAAFkA/gbjSWIP9Olw/s320/Tommycooper.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;i&gt;Matt Smith dresses up as Tommy Cooper&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;Anyway, he gets there and - surprise! - it's a fancy dress party. River's come dressed as Cleopatra and Rory and his mates as Roman Centurian monsters. LOL! It is a slow start like parties often are but then a load of other mates plus a few hangers-on turn up from the pub dressed as Daleks, Cybermen, Chumblies, Rose, Adric and other monsters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hang on, the Doctor Who," says Rory, "where's *your* costume?" "Oh yes," laughs the Doctor Who, "I'll just pop into this Pandorica and get changed - just like that!" The Doctor Who comes back after a brief &amp;nbsp;interlude dressed as Tommy Cooper which gives Rory a laugh but leaves some of their alien mates a little bemused. "Fez please, geddit?" says Rory. There is silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway it's a great party but Amy has too much to drink and passes out, so Rory and the Doctor Who have a laugh and drape her in funny positions and dress her in funny clothes then put her in the Pandorica thingy to lie down for a bit before she throws up over anyone.&amp;nbsp;Then, fearing she will wake up and have a go, cowardly the Doctor Who does a runner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Amy comes round she doesn't remember a thing but when she finds that Rory has cleared up her sick she decides to marry him. The wedding goes ahead but then, just as the speeches are beginning at the reception, Amy remembers how Rory and the Doctor Who mistreated her and has a big girlie tantrum. But after a few drinks, she has forgotten again and they all have a good laugh before the Big Bang when the Doctor Who comes back and takes Amy and Rory up the vortex."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-3571480289017358519?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/3571480289017358519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/08/doctor-whos-fancy-dress-party.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3571480289017358519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3571480289017358519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/08/doctor-whos-fancy-dress-party.html' title='The Doctor Who&apos;s fancy dress party'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TFw8vGpKv6I/AAAAAAAAFkA/gbjSWIP9Olw/s72-c/Tommycooper.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8058849185753308309</id><published>2010-06-22T18:53:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T21:06:41.617+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>Blame Amy Pond!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TCD6Mqo5_4I/AAAAAAAAACE/-FzV9-HPyu0/s1600/DSC00028.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485659441648500610" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TCD6Mqo5_4I/AAAAAAAAACE/-FzV9-HPyu0/s320/DSC00028.JPG" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 320px; margin: 0 10px 10px 0; width: 240px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Left: Type 40 - Kaput!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two Gallifreyan TARDIS designers in overalls hold hot mugs of tea and scratch their noses as they discuss the latest model.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, what's the problem then?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, it's the Type 40."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, they aren't still moaning about the chameleon circuit are they? I said I'd get around to it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, it's not that, it's the other thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What other thing?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Y'know, the kaaaaaaaaboooooooom thing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh that. That'll never happen"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But it might and if it does, well then the Universe..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen here now! You tell them we've got a lot of pre-orders for this model and we stand to make a fortune. If they're going to get all health and safety on this we're looking at a pretty heavy loss of revenue."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But if it does, y'know, go kaaaaaaaaboooooooom we're looking at a crippling lawsuit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Listen, if it does go kaaaaaaaaboooooooom there will be no one around to sue. None of us will have existed so we won't be here to care. And another thing, even if someone does manage to survive being swept out of space/time reality, we can always just transfer liability or whatever they call it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Transfer liability?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, blame someone else. The consumer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The consumer?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, like that seven year old Scottish urchin you met on the space time visualiser."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ahh, no, not the cute wee one that cuts happy faces into apples!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. The one we sold the prototype to and now she uses it as a house."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But that's mean." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, don't worry about her. She grows up to be a right loony anyway. Gets her boyfriend killed a few times and all. She's an accident waiting to happen. We'll blame her. We'll say she spilled some fish custard down the Eye of Harmony or something and we'll be off the hook, if indeed there is still a hook in existence which there won't be."  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8058849185753308309?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8058849185753308309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/left-type-40-kaput-two-gallifreyan.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8058849185753308309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8058849185753308309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/left-type-40-kaput-two-gallifreyan.html' title='Blame Amy Pond!'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TCD6Mqo5_4I/AAAAAAAAACE/-FzV9-HPyu0/s72-c/DSC00028.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-1042957126264266998</id><published>2010-06-14T21:37:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-15T04:01:20.642+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who in Sex and the Settee</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TBaSquDHyzI/AAAAAAAAFiY/7P2lLass2vA/s1600/sofa_doc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="181" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TBaSquDHyzI/AAAAAAAAFiY/7P2lLass2vA/s320/sofa_doc.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;The Doctor Who may have changed his persona but his underlying perversity is beginning to rear its ugly head again. In his wickedness, and obsessed with the thought of cracks in the universe, he heads for Earth once more to seek relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who lands the Tardis in a park where he fancies there might be some dogging action, sending his time-space machine into a temporal loop to keep Amy Pond from spoiling his fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, with the park free of any such frivolity, the Doctor Who is guided by a kindly local to the red light district. Pausing only to steal some cash from a hole in the wall with his sonic screwdriver, he arrives at a house where a red lamp appears to be flickering upstairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To his great satisfaction, a voice summons him over the intercom: "Hello love, are you lookin' for some action? why dontcha come on in?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks, just call me the Doctor Who," says the Doctor Who. "I've got the, er, rent."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Indoors, and unaware of the debauchery within the house, self-proclaimed funnyman James Corden and his young lady Sarah Jessica Parker Bowles are snuggling up on the sofa and looking forward to some romantic interaction. Suddenly, to their horror, they realise they are not alone. There is a voyeur in their midst - a stranger lurking behind the sofa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ah, er, hello. They call me the Doctor Who," says the Doctor Who as he rises from his hiding place. "I was just, er, testing the walls."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't give me that," says James. "You got that from John Cleese in Fawlty Towers."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then their attention is distracted by a commotion above them. "Ooooh, what's that banging upstairs?" asks&amp;nbsp;Sarah Jessica Parker Bowles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Banging upstairs? I've clearly got the wrong apartment," says the Doctor Who. And he is off at once, looking for a new adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-1042957126264266998?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/1042957126264266998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/doctor-who-in-sex-and-settee.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1042957126264266998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1042957126264266998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/doctor-who-in-sex-and-settee.html' title='The Doctor Who in Sex and the Settee'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TBaSquDHyzI/AAAAAAAAFiY/7P2lLass2vA/s72-c/sofa_doc.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-5235097701577365111</id><published>2010-06-08T16:43:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T17:04:14.551+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and The Issues Helpline</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;FX&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;Beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep, beep. Pause. Ring-ring, ring-ring, ring-ring.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: "Hi, is that the helpline. You gotta help me guys. Er, hello?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TA5pCwX_7QI/AAAAAAAAFiQ/Gc03hMDZQv4/s1600/old_phone.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="247" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TA5pCwX_7QI/AAAAAAAAFiQ/Gc03hMDZQv4/s320/old_phone.PNG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;b&gt;FX&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;i&gt;Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now muzak by The Matt Smiths plays for an eternity.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Operator&lt;/b&gt;: "Right then. What do you want?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: "Oh thank goodness. Please help me. I've been affected by the issues."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Operator&lt;/b&gt;: "Well we gathered that. Otherwise you wouldn't be ringing would you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: "Er, no I suppose not..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Operator&lt;/b&gt;: "So you're depressed are you? A little bit under the weather and can't pull yourself together."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: "Well I'm a little bit down but it's not depression. That's not the issue."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Operator&lt;/b&gt;: &lt;sigh&gt; "What is it then?"&lt;/sigh&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: "My boyfriend died like that a couple of weeks back. He got stabbed through the heart by an artist's easel."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Operator&lt;/b&gt;: "Well it's easel-y done!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: "I'm sorry?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Operator&lt;/b&gt;: "I said it's easel-y done. EASEL-Y geddit? OK, please yourself."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Caller&lt;/b&gt;: "Oh I see... Well yes, that is rather good. Ha ha! You know I feel better already."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Operator&lt;/b&gt;: "That's nice. Hey, did you see that &lt;a href="http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-peril-of-dwindling-fish.html"&gt;Codwoorth&lt;/a&gt; is coming back?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-5235097701577365111?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/5235097701577365111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/doctor-who-and-issues-helpline.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5235097701577365111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5235097701577365111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/doctor-who-and-issues-helpline.html' title='The Doctor Who and The Issues Helpline'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TA5pCwX_7QI/AAAAAAAAFiQ/Gc03hMDZQv4/s72-c/old_phone.PNG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-5275697899599448649</id><published>2010-06-07T11:20:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-07T11:44:44.492+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and The Vincent van Gogh</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TAzNE805a3I/AAAAAAAAAB8/ihTxa6gq2Ao/s1600/vangoghactionfigure-main.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 313px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TAzNE805a3I/AAAAAAAAAB8/ihTxa6gq2Ao/s320/vangoghactionfigure-main.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479980331534216050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Vincent van Gogh is hearing things. Awful things that no one else can hear. He hears the evil music of Athlete, Coldplay, Snow Patrol and Keane.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO! The Vincent van Gogh calls The Doctor Who on his loony phone. "Hello The Doctor Who, I'm hearing things again," he says and The Doctor Who says, "oh Vincent, you old loony with your trendy mental health issues, I think it's time you bucked up and faced life like a man."&lt;br /&gt;"I know I should The Doctor Who," says The Vincent van Gogh, "but it's these dripping sentimental stadium rock power ballads, they are doing my head in. I can't get any painting done. Seriously, it's as evil as T'Pau's China In Your Hands or something by Chris DeBurgh."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who reckons that there is no music and that The Vincent van Gogh is just looking for attention or trying to be trendy or something. However, The Doctor Who changes his mind when The Vincent van Gogh shows up at the TARDIS door with Chris Martin impaled on the end an tripod easel. "Nice one," says The Doctor Who, "so it looks like loonies are cool after all."&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," says The Vincent van Gogh, feeling all validated and with a tear in his eye, "loonies are cool."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Timelad and the artist hug before setting out to kill more syrupy anthem stadium rockers with an array of artist's materials.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-5275697899599448649?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/5275697899599448649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/doctor-who-and-vincent-van-gogh.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5275697899599448649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5275697899599448649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/doctor-who-and-vincent-van-gogh.html' title='The Doctor Who and The Vincent van Gogh'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TAzNE805a3I/AAAAAAAAAB8/ihTxa6gq2Ao/s72-c/vangoghactionfigure-main.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-3109799927724904746</id><published>2010-06-01T19:21:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T23:40:32.823+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spoilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='amy pond'/><title type='text'>AMY POND IS SPOILT</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TAVQoa5boxI/AAAAAAAAAB0/1rc2mxArCKk/s1600/PONDSCUM.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="267" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477873177111274258" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TAVQoa5boxI/AAAAAAAAAB0/1rc2mxArCKk/s400/PONDSCUM.jpg" style="float: left; height: 214px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 10px; margin-top: 0px; width: 320px;" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above graph has been temporarily placed on the archive as proof that Amy Pond is indeed spoilt and the cause of the crack and poor Rory's death/ceasing to exist amongst other things. CLICK TO ENLARGE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See discussion: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://gallifreybase.com/forum/showthread.php?t=54481"&gt;http://gallifreybase.com/forum/showthread.php?t=54481&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-3109799927724904746?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/3109799927724904746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/amy-pond-is-spoilt.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3109799927724904746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3109799927724904746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/06/amy-pond-is-spoilt.html' title='AMY POND IS SPOILT'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/TAVQoa5boxI/AAAAAAAAAB0/1rc2mxArCKk/s72-c/PONDSCUM.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6769567999311074002</id><published>2010-05-24T22:57:00.004+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T22:20:26.551+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Hole in the Ground</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TAQn_6pvAYI/AAAAAAAAFh0/agtFHYIdWzA/s1600/holeinground.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="200" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TAQn_6pvAYI/AAAAAAAAFh0/agtFHYIdWzA/s200/holeinground.jpg" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"Hi Granny Kumar," says the Doctor Who. "I came as soon as I could. What seems to be the trouble?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh thank the lord," says Granny Kumar. " We're just trying to drill into the ground to meet your old friends the Silurians."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, that's nice," says the Doctor Who. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who glances over. It's Wilf! The Time Lord is not pleased. "We'll soon see about that," he says.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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&amp;nbsp; 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!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6769567999311074002?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6769567999311074002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/05/doctor-who-and-hole-in-ground.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6769567999311074002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6769567999311074002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/05/doctor-who-and-hole-in-ground.html' title='Doctor Who and the Hole in the Ground'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TAQn_6pvAYI/AAAAAAAAFh0/agtFHYIdWzA/s72-c/holeinground.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8065934446225488386</id><published>2010-05-24T21:11:00.007+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T23:01:15.202+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who Behaving Badly (aka Amy's Crack)</title><content type='html'>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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/S_rfypV5uMI/AAAAAAAAFhg/GgaJ__Fspdk/s1600/slumpedonsofa.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="211" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/S_rfypV5uMI/AAAAAAAAFhg/GgaJ__Fspdk/s320/slumpedonsofa.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;"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." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy replies: "Yes, I'm pregnant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're bloody huge, you are, ha ha ha ha," chips in Rory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes," replies Amy. "I'm pregnant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who is passing out in an alcoholic haze. But something has registered. "Are you pregnant?" he asks before everything goes black.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the Doctor Who notices that he has switched from the office to his sofa again. "Rory," he says. "How did we get here?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;(This was a recursive story. Please return to paragraph one.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8065934446225488386?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8065934446225488386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/05/doctor-who-behaving-badly.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8065934446225488386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8065934446225488386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/05/doctor-who-behaving-badly.html' title='Doctor Who Behaving Badly (aka Amy&apos;s Crack)'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/S_rfypV5uMI/AAAAAAAAFhg/GgaJ__Fspdk/s72-c/slumpedonsofa.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2698083281100146383</id><published>2010-05-11T16:13:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T16:31:12.540+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>Bog Standard in Venice</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S-l3Y0PbTWI/AAAAAAAAABs/2aCh9J1sXfk/s1600/amy+langford.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 137px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S-l3Y0PbTWI/AAAAAAAAABs/2aCh9J1sXfk/s320/amy+langford.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470034490642091362" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Look out Amy, it's the Bog Standard!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2698083281100146383?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2698083281100146383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/05/bog-standard-in-venice.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2698083281100146383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2698083281100146383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/05/bog-standard-in-venice.html' title='Bog Standard in Venice'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S-l3Y0PbTWI/AAAAAAAAABs/2aCh9J1sXfk/s72-c/amy+langford.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7068562924435297771</id><published>2010-05-03T19:39:00.008+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T20:11:14.895+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>Angels Having the Crack!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S98Yi-lmiTI/AAAAAAAAABk/Wy-IfVcEEWY/s1600/weeping+angel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S98Yi-lmiTI/AAAAAAAAABk/Wy-IfVcEEWY/s320/weeping+angel.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467115461846403378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Pictured above: "Oh, for f**k's sake"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three weeping angels have a head to head about what to do next...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: We could pounce out of CCTV footage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AGNES: Yeah, that's not bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: We could get inside their eyeballs and freak them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AGNES: Oooh, creepy, but can you work the walkie talkie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: As long as no one's watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: We could nick the Doctor's coat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE (incredulously): Pardon?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: We could nick the Doctor's coat and give him a wedgie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: A wedgie??? Wedgie's aren't scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: They are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: No they aren't, they're stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: You're stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: Oh come on! You want to nick his coat and give him a wedgie? We'll be the laughing stock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: You'll be the laughing stock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: What does that even mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: What do you even mean?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE (to Agnes about Philomena): She's a fruitcake. I can't work with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: You're the fruitcake you can't work with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: OK, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; definitely made no sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: You definitely made no sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AGNES: OK you two. Knock it off. Now, does anyone feel that draft?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: It seems to be coming from that crack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: More like, it seems to be coming from &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;your&lt;/span&gt; crack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: Oh, for f**k's sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: You're for f**k's sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: What is your problem?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA: You're my problem, Drafty Crack!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AGNES: Ah now girls, come on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BERNADETTE: Look, I'm going to do the walkie talkie thing. You two can nick coats and give wedgies or whatever you like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bernadette exits the scene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PHILOMENA (shouting): Fine, we will (mutters) ...drafty cracked queef merchant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7068562924435297771?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7068562924435297771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/05/angels-having-crack.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7068562924435297771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7068562924435297771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/05/angels-having-crack.html' title='Angels Having the Crack!'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S98Yi-lmiTI/AAAAAAAAABk/Wy-IfVcEEWY/s72-c/weeping+angel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7948045244233624944</id><published>2010-04-17T23:17:00.017+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-31T19:36:27.754+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The New Dalek Victory</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TAQBmCbugNI/AAAAAAAAFhs/SNBYnqzcgQU/s1600/Dalek+showroom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="225" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TAQBmCbugNI/AAAAAAAAFhs/SNBYnqzcgQU/s400/Dalek+showroom.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"&gt;(Why not drop down to our Dalek showroom?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Banana, strawberry, mango, lemon or orange, no matter what fruity flavour you choose from the new &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dalek Victory&lt;/span&gt; range you'll be guaranteed a spacious airy cabin with plenty of room not to mention a decent sized boot(y) for jammy dodger storage. There's more than enough space in this cheekily vibrant humpbacked hatchback to satisfy the needs of any struggling actor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By ingeniously combining traditional Dalek design with the DNA of the Cyber-Controller from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Attack of the Cyberlads&lt;/span&gt;, the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Dalek Victory&lt;/span&gt; kick-starts a new paradigm in Dalek operator comfort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just listen to these testimonials: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"It's a really comfortable ride. I can't believe they used stuff people into those little postbox Daleks before now, that was a human rights violation surely."&lt;/span&gt; Jim (actor - struggling). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"The generous interior of the Dalek Victory means I can comfortably enjoy meals without having to leave its confines. I fancy the new continuity girl but I'm pretty shy. Thanks to the Dalek Victory, I don't have to worry about looking like a stuttering sweaty fool in front of her when I pop my head out for lunch. In short, ideal."&lt;/span&gt; Duncan (actor -also struggling).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"At first I thought it was shite but then I adjusted to it, a bit like I did with the new theme music." Gregory (actor - floundering).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They are totally gay and so am I so everyone's a winner."&lt;/span&gt; Reg (actor - struggling).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why not pop down to your nearest alien menace dealer and try out the new Dalek Victory? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'll be glad you did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7948045244233624944?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7948045244233624944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/04/new-dalek-victory.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7948045244233624944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7948045244233624944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/04/new-dalek-victory.html' title='The New Dalek Victory'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/TAQBmCbugNI/AAAAAAAAFhs/SNBYnqzcgQU/s72-c/Dalek+showroom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7029180517905771029</id><published>2010-04-14T17:32:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-14T17:57:38.010+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The Beast Below (or One in the Eye for Thatcher)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S8Xy3D-ye6I/AAAAAAAAABU/SWxQ6IEosek/s1600/Amy+Pond.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 293px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S8Xy3D-ye6I/AAAAAAAAABU/SWxQ6IEosek/s320/Amy+Pond.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5460037151031983010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Pictured: Amy Pond - Yesterday.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who and Amy (who doesn't even bother to get out of her pyjamas like a working class person) arrive at a thinly veiled analogy for Thatcher's Briton where they discover the bourgeoisie riding around on the back of a star whale (i.e. the proletariat). The bourgeoisie are torturing the whale (i.e. baton charging the striking miners) so The Doctor Who and Amy decide to "bring down the government" (i.e. overthrow Thatcher's Briton, just like Ben Elton and The Style Council did in the eighties).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, The Doctor Who and Amy succeed and befriend the Queen in the process but they don't go all sycophantic and cap doffing like Ben Elton did at those Royal Command performances or whatever they are called, which is funny because he used take the p**s out of Jimmy Tarbuck for doing the same thing ...but I digress. The long and short of it is that Thatcher's Briton is left reeling in the wake of this savage indictment just like it was after &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Happiness Patrol&lt;/span&gt; and The Doctor Who and Amy zoom off to 10 Downing Street to hang around and discuss Feng Shui with Cherie Blair and various Cool Britannia types like Sadie Frost and the bass player from The Wonderstuff probably, ...I'm not sure, all that lot anyway. TAKE THAT THATCHER'S BRITON!     &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7029180517905771029?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7029180517905771029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/04/beast-below-or-one-in-eye-for-thatcher.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7029180517905771029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7029180517905771029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/04/beast-below-or-one-in-eye-for-thatcher.html' title='The Beast Below (or One in the Eye for Thatcher)'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S8Xy3D-ye6I/AAAAAAAAABU/SWxQ6IEosek/s72-c/Amy+Pond.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-207430585667792656</id><published>2010-04-09T15:27:00.006+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T16:13:12.864+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>Eleven Hours of Total Carnage</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S78_Sl23LMI/AAAAAAAAAAo/MmKX5OSgSvE/s1600/minnie.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 298px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S78_Sl23LMI/AAAAAAAAAAo/MmKX5OSgSvE/s320/minnie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458150862028745922" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Pictured: New Companion - Amy Pond&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Amy Pond prays to the Devil (I swear I heard her say 'Satan') so The Doctor Who (who has taken the form of a youthful, ne'er do well, Yob) arrives and encourages her to wreck her bedroom wall, make a mess in the kitchen and invite crazy monsters from a another dimension into our world for the laugh like. CRUMBS READERS, LOOKS LIKE TROUBLE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who The Yob goes back to the TARDIS to see if he can find some glue for him and Amy to sniff (Amy's Aunt did have some furniture glue but it was incinerated when The Doctor Who The Yob ram-raided the shed where it was kept). Having imbibed Amy's Aunt's entire drinks cabinet, The Doctor Who The Yob forgets why he went into the TARDIS in the first place and just leaves. Then he comes back twelve years later and finds a 'troubled' Amy hanging out with some softy called Rory so The Doctor Who The Yob grabs Rory's lapels (I swear, check it out, he's a yobbo and no mistake), roughs up Rory's hair (this also happens, he's a rough youth this The Doctor Who) and generally gives Rory the Gripper Stebson treatment. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then The Doctor Who The Yob wrecks a public telephone and nicks stuff off sick people (their clothes etc.). Then the crazy monsters from another dimension show up to hang out and that but The Doctor Who The Yob threatens them and takes their smokes off them before they run away. Then The Doctor Who The Yob and Amy smoke the cigarettes and go joy riding in the TARDIS where the Doctor Who The Yob boasts of his swimming pool that is filled with extra strength cider. They leave a trail of destruction and a heartbroken Rory the softy in their wake ...and all in only eleven hours (Gallifreyan Yob Time that is). GEEEERRRRRRROOOOOOONNNNNNIIIIIIMO READERS!   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-207430585667792656?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/207430585667792656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/04/eleven-hours-of-total-carnage.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/207430585667792656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/207430585667792656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/04/eleven-hours-of-total-carnage.html' title='Eleven Hours of Total Carnage'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S78_Sl23LMI/AAAAAAAAAAo/MmKX5OSgSvE/s72-c/minnie.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4887399530376844718</id><published>2010-02-19T19:58:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-02-19T20:02:10.220Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Inflatable Doctor Who and the Nudist Colony from Space - Part 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/S37tJaPQGxI/AAAAAAAAFck/lLExDSPfkZY/s1600-h/inflatabledoctorwho2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="247" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/S37tJaPQGxI/AAAAAAAAFck/lLExDSPfkZY/s400/inflatabledoctorwho2.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;OK, by popular demand, and since a commission of Inflatable Doctor Who by the BBC seems IMMINENT, I'm delivering Episode Two of our exciting new story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4887399530376844718?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4887399530376844718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/02/inflatable-doctor-who-and-nudist-colony_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4887399530376844718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4887399530376844718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/02/inflatable-doctor-who-and-nudist-colony_19.html' title='Inflatable Doctor Who and the Nudist Colony from Space - Part 2'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/S37tJaPQGxI/AAAAAAAAFck/lLExDSPfkZY/s72-c/inflatabledoctorwho2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4661286966208785252</id><published>2010-02-16T17:27:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-02-17T12:15:14.150Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Inflatable Doctor Who and the Nudist Colony from Space</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/S3rTEVVNVGI/AAAAAAAAFcY/3kedHc6blkU/s1600-h/inflatable_doctor_who.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="247" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/S3rTEVVNVGI/AAAAAAAAFcY/3kedHc6blkU/s400/inflatable_doctor_who.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is being archived IN ADVANCE to make sure the BBC don't conveniently go and lose it when it is put to the production team. Click to make it bigger and to enjoy the full dramatic effect! It will be continued when commissioned!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4661286966208785252?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4661286966208785252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/02/inflatable-doctor-who-and-nudist-colony.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4661286966208785252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4661286966208785252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/02/inflatable-doctor-who-and-nudist-colony.html' title='Inflatable Doctor Who and the Nudist Colony from Space'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_C2I3anomGL4/S3rTEVVNVGI/AAAAAAAAFcY/3kedHc6blkU/s72-c/inflatable_doctor_who.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-1593299080660586786</id><published>2010-01-25T22:26:00.004Z</published><updated>2010-01-25T22:35:47.593Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Six'/><title type='text'>In a Fix with Sontarans</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S14cMsl3yAI/AAAAAAAAAAg/efuRbIFbaHg/s1600-h/buster+sontaran.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S14cMsl3yAI/AAAAAAAAAAg/efuRbIFbaHg/s320/buster+sontaran.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430809205109409794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Left: A Sontaran in a fix.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gareth Jenkins, aged 8, gets to be The Doctor Who because frankly he is spoilt. I wrote to Jim'll Fix It several times requesting that I be allowed give Peri a bath but I was ignored. IGNORED! Not only that, but Jenkins demanded that his nan make him a The Doctor Who outfit and he had also a tent that was like a TARDIS. Will this greedy child ever be happy? Find out by watching 'In a Fix with Sontarans' available via Tartan video.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-1593299080660586786?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/1593299080660586786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-fix-with-sontarans.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1593299080660586786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1593299080660586786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/in-fix-with-sontarans.html' title='In a Fix with Sontarans'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S14cMsl3yAI/AAAAAAAAAAg/efuRbIFbaHg/s72-c/buster+sontaran.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4715915687628279647</id><published>2010-01-16T16:54:00.004Z</published><updated>2010-01-16T17:09:32.165Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor One'/><title type='text'>Mission to the Unknownest Planet of the Unknown</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S1HxxEUE-yI/AAAAAAAAAAY/2sKvKobAet4/s1600-h/bagpuss.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S1HxxEUE-yI/AAAAAAAAAAY/2sKvKobAet4/s320/bagpuss.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427384851231996706" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;(William Hartnell and popular game-show host Bagpuss chatting backstage at Children in Need - 1965)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who doesn't even bother to show up for this one (probably at Children in Need or having another of his little 'lie downs' or something). Anyway, who needs him? This bloke sees a gang of Boobahs drinking cider on the corner of his street. Fearing that this might mean trouble ahead, he attempts to contact the authorities but a Boobah nicks his mobile phone and the rest give him a kicking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geordie won't shut up about his precious anomalies either. 'Everything is grand Geordie' roar the viewers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4715915687628279647?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4715915687628279647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/mission-to-unknownest-planet-of-unknown.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4715915687628279647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4715915687628279647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/mission-to-unknownest-planet-of-unknown.html' title='Mission to the Unknownest Planet of the Unknown'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_q8r70Hewpig/S1HxxEUE-yI/AAAAAAAAAAY/2sKvKobAet4/s72-c/bagpuss.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-3137823106283268309</id><published>2010-01-05T12:47:00.003Z</published><updated>2010-01-05T12:48:46.390Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Fires of Up Pompeii</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;The prologue:&lt;/b&gt; Oooh no, missus. No, listen. Doctor Who the tenth, well, he brings Donna to Pompeii. To see Francis. I mean Lurcio. Well he doesn't want to mix with riff-raff. No? Oooh, please yourselves. Anyway, titter ye not. He comes to stay with Ludicrus, his wife Ammonia and their daughter Erotica. Anyway, no, listen. Listen to Francis. Doctor Who discovers that Albert Steptoe has fallen through time and is demanding back rent for when crochety Doctor Who did a runner from his time in Totty Lane. But is this the end? Nay, nay and thrice nay! For Doctor Who realises that the only way to defeat the evil Steptoe is to drown him in lava. Poor Steptoe! No, titter ye not. So he uses his sonic screwdriver to make Mount Vesuvius erupt. Oh it erupts for Frankie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Epilogue:&lt;/b&gt; Doctor Who and Donna carry on up the vortex. No, listen... Oh, please yourselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-3137823106283268309?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/3137823106283268309/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-fires-of-up-pompeii.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3137823106283268309'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3137823106283268309'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-fires-of-up-pompeii.html' title='Doctor Who and the Fires of Up Pompeii'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-514372005887024996</id><published>2010-01-05T12:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-05T12:28:17.911Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Six'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Five'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Curves of Androzani</title><content type='html'>Doctor Who the fifth has been acting strangely ever since Peri ran around in that bikini. She catches him several times lurking around the Tardis in a bid to check out her giant bazookas. Finally he plucks up courage to ask her out to a rave on Androlloydwebbery plus they take in a show, Phantom of the Opera. Peri's still not really interested so Doctor Who pretends to get shot. When that does no good, he gets some Es off the barman. Finally, reverting to his deep-seated wickedness, he slips some rohypnol into her Bacardi and Coke and she passes out. Doctor Who can barely believe his luck as he quickly carries Peri's limp, curvaceous form back to the Tardis to have his evil way with her. But no sooner has he thrown her to the floor than the excitement becomes all too much and it is all over for him. Doctor Who feels such shame that his body is forced to degenerate once more. Doctor Who the sixth wakes up to find Peri leaning over him, bazookas bulging, and cruelly deriding his lack of libido.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-514372005887024996?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/514372005887024996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-curves-of-androzani.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/514372005887024996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/514372005887024996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-curves-of-androzani.html' title='Doctor Who and the Curves of Androzani'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4118561797223805903</id><published>2010-01-04T11:15:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-01-04T11:16:20.361Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and The Enemy Without</title><content type='html'>Moffat settled back in the leather chair of his new office at Upper Boat as he contemplated the future. The Time Lord's future - or should that be his past, he thought with a chuckle. What richness of ideas he might employ weaving strands of time with the mysterious fabric of what scientists were now calling the multiverse!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEEEEEEEP! An annoying noise of the intercom jolted him from his creative musings. “I'm  sorry, sir, but I've got that Russell T Partridge on the line again. Insists he needs to speak to you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moffat picked up the phone with a sigh. “Rusty.  Are you still in that Travel Inn? What is it this time?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“All hail the Mighty Moff! Aha!” came the reply from the panting buffoon. “Listen, I've had another brilliant idea for a story. Epic stuff. The planets are all popping out. Pop, pop, pop. The Doctor Who races off to the Shimmering Falls of Shambolicness via the Wake of Finnegan and Rainbow of Finian, finds the Vest of Verbosity and Pants of Putrefaction just in time. Then pausing only to pop round to Rose's for a nice cup of tea - because everyone stops for a cuppa, very English – he siphons off the energy and diverts it out the back of the Tardis through the Conservatory of Continuity and everything is ticketyboo.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Listen Russell. I've told you. It's my show now...”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Wait! How about this one. Doctor Who idea for the Beeb No 253. Donna's in the launderette, washing her smalls making faces at the Doctor Who through the window. Suddenly all the washing machines start shaking violently, their doors burst open and an army of 50 million Cybermen march through... Think of the ratings!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Goodbye Russell!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I can add Daleks... Slitheen?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moffat slammed down the phone and put his head in his hands. This was supposed to be his dream job. How had it ever come to this?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4118561797223805903?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4118561797223805903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-enemy-without.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4118561797223805903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4118561797223805903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-enemy-without.html' title='Doctor Who and The Enemy Without'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4877316709890349598</id><published>2010-01-03T12:51:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-01-05T12:52:56.914Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Six'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Unravelling of the Daleks</title><content type='html'>Doctor Who the sixth gets news on the time-space visualiser that his old friend Davros has been kidnapped by an army of mutant zombies on the planet Necros. He speeds there with Peri in the Tardis only to discover that the zombies are being brought back from the dead by none other than Mr Copper, off of Titanic, and his floosie. Doctor Who shoots them dead then bumps into Blackadder and Baldrick and gets them to help him break into the Restawhile old folk's home where the resident zombies have turned poor Davros into a real-life Magic Robot guessing game just like in the Fifties, or was it sixties when you wondered how on earth the magic robot knew (which was no relation to Garr's magic upskirt robot dog) but of course it was all about how the mechanism or magnets or whatever it was were arranged! Anyway, Mr Balowski, off of The Young Ones, is keeping everyone zombified by being a Dads' DJ and playing lots of middle-of-the-road crapola and embarrassing you in front of all your teenage mates by dancing like a loon. Luckily Doctor Who discovers that the real Davros is safe and hiding behind the curtains and calls his old friends the Daleks to take him safely back to his real home on Skaro. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4877316709890349598?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4877316709890349598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-unravelling-of-daleks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4877316709890349598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4877316709890349598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-unravelling-of-daleks.html' title='Doctor Who and the Unravelling of the Daleks'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4823060687510609258</id><published>2010-01-02T13:13:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-05T13:15:36.188Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Boob Town</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the northern and Rose appear to have got their relationship back on track. But she notices he's getting home later and later every night from his new job in Cardiff. "It's OK. I've just got a lot on," he says when she challenges him. "But I don't even know what it is you do," she complains. The Doctor Who sits Rose down and, idly twiddling her minge, explains how he is a top scientific advisor. "Wot, like wot you was before for UNIT?" she asks, stuffing her face with chips. "That's right," says the Doctor Who, "except in those days I was helping taffy grow big fat luminous maggots. Now, by 'eck, I'm advising on an exciting new project t' build power stations." Rose seems happy with his answer. But next night, as she is going out for some chips, she spots him in the local bistro apparently canoodling with a rather large lady. Rose bursts in and confronts the pair. "Er, it's OK," says the Doctor Who. "This is t' Mayor, my boss. We're just, er, discussing power plant." Rose runs from the restaurant, cheeks flushed. How could she be so foolish and humiliate the man she loves. She feels more relaxed as she dusts around the Tardis, until a glance at the time-space visualiser reveals the terrible truth. For the Doctor Who has failed to log out, and the screen is filled with a vile, flesh-filled page of debauchery from the Big Buxom Wenches website for bouncing-boob lovers. "Damn you Peri, screams Rose. "Damn you for inciting this lust in the Doctor Who that can now never be sated." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4823060687510609258?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4823060687510609258/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/boob-town.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4823060687510609258'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4823060687510609258'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/boob-town.html' title='Boob Town'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6085177110440248750</id><published>2010-01-02T13:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-05T13:12:00.477Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who Chances</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Continued from The Empty Bitch&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose awakens from a terrible dream where Mr Meldrew's army of zombies are attacking the Doctor Who the northern. Her Doctor Who. Then reality hits her and she is filled with despair at the memories of the night before. Fighting to see through the tears, she makes her way to the console room. "He said stay in your room, slag," shouts John from his prison cell. "No, you must go to him," calls Gillian. And now Rose is speeding, half naked, through the streets, daisy petals falling from her minge. And she is running through the hospital's cold corridors, the walls are a blur. She can hear his voice. Rose bursts into the room. "I'm so sorry, Doct..." And suddenly she freezes. For he is there. But so is Jack. Captain Jack Rimmer. And the Doctor Who is showing Jack his banana. Rose turns and runs. "Rose! Rose!!" cries the Doctor Who the northern. "Go to her, Doctor Who," says Captain Jack. "You need her." And now the Doctor Who is running through the corridors. He catches up with Rose. They fall into each other's arms. Racked with guilt, Jack turns, fires up the Red Dwarf and shoots off into space. But then a strange thing happens. As the Doctor Who and Rose gaze into each other's eyes they realise they both need Jack. And racing to the Tardis, they set course for their next destination, the Red Dwarf. And the Doctor Who cries; "Just this once, everybody loves!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'For never was a story of more woe&lt;br /&gt;Than this of Rose and her Homeo' &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6085177110440248750?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6085177110440248750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-chances.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6085177110440248750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6085177110440248750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-chances.html' title='The Doctor Who Chances'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2540868742770991062</id><published>2010-01-02T13:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-05T13:08:25.395Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Empty Bitch</title><content type='html'>You can cut the tension with a knife. The honeymoon is over for the Doctor Who the northern and Rose and don't they just know it. "Where you going'" "I'm goin' to comedy club." "When are you coming back?" "1941." "Are you taking the whippets?" "What's it to you, bitch..." How could it ever come to this? And the recriminations. "So you're back then, as 'eck as like." "Yeah, well, you seem to have 'ad a good time." "Who was he?" "He was no one. Just... Jack. Someone who made me laugh." "Are you my mummy?" "Fook off, kid." "But why, Rose. I love you." "It's not enough. And where's me chips?" "Are you my mummy?" "I told you to fook off." "Don't do this to me, Doctor Who." "I gave you fookin' everything." "Where are you going?" "Out." "Where?" "The 'ospital. Victor Meldrew's doing a charity gig, so you can fook off with Captain fookin' Jack." "But you twiddled daisies in me minge." "Face it, bitch. It's over. Go to your room!" Silence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;To be continued! &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2540868742770991062?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2540868742770991062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-empty-bitch.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2540868742770991062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2540868742770991062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-empty-bitch.html' title='Doctor Who and the Empty Bitch'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2882207183518563240</id><published>2010-01-02T13:01:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-01-05T13:03:41.061Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Invasion of the ITV Monsters</title><content type='html'>Flashback time and Jackie is telling a bedtime story to baby Rose but Rose asks, once again, about her non-existent Dad and Jackie says, "I told you he was a lumberjack and a tree fell on him in Canada," yeah, right! And baby Rose plots revenge on the man who made her a bastard...&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward and the Doctor Who the northern is leaning, with his arms crossed on the Tardis and staring like he does, and she tells him about evil Dad. And he says, "when I said the Tardis could travel in time like," and she says, "yeah but you were twiddling daisies in my minge and that," And then he giggles and suggests why don't they go back in time and find Mr so-called Dad and push him under a car or something!! Brilliant! But Rose gets it wrong, like a girl, first time and the Doctor Who has to go back in time again and do it himself. But then something terrible happens. Someone flicking the telly back and forth between the Doctor Who and Buck Rogers or some shit has caused a tear in the space-time TV continuum and now the pterodactyls off of Primeval on ITV are all invading Doctor Who. But the Doctor Who don't care cos he is getting all loved up with Rose again and they're off up the vortex. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2882207183518563240?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2882207183518563240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-invasion-of-itv-monsters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2882207183518563240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2882207183518563240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-invasion-of-itv-monsters.html' title='Doctor Who and the Invasion of the ITV Monsters'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6161186272690911235</id><published>2010-01-02T12:57:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-01-16T17:48:07.242Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Four'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Dentistry of the Daleks</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the all teeth and curls is fed up to the back, er, teeth with being called the horror of fang rock behind his back and so decides to visit the dentist for the first time since he was crochety Doctor Who in &lt;a href="http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-bumfighters.html"&gt;The Bumfighters&lt;/a&gt;, as already chronicled. He discovers his old friend Davros has set up a dental clinic on Skaro with lovely Movellan girls as his nurses and hygienists. Doctor Who has to wait while Davros attends to some bleeding Androgums but then is swiftly dealt with. Davros admits that his clinic is not terribly busy due to the local Dalek population not having any teeth, so Doctor Who suggests he should use his talents and chemicals to produce some more Daleks instead. Then, teeth fixed and mouth rinsed, he whisks Romana away for another adventure. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6161186272690911235?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6161186272690911235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-dentistry-of-daleks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6161186272690911235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6161186272690911235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-dentistry-of-daleks.html' title='Doctor Who and the Dentistry of the Daleks'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6822513165159414257</id><published>2010-01-02T12:53:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-05T12:55:03.933Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Seven'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Dusty Bin of the Daleks</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the seventh challenges his old friends the Daleks to appear on popular quiz show Bullseye with Jim Bowen but they look in the TV Times and immediately fall in love with a sexy dustbin on a rival quiz show 3-2-1. So Ted Rogers gives Doctor Who two fingers, or three in fact, and the Daleks go in for 3-2-1 and win a car and a holiday but, best of all, their very own Dusty Bin which they take back to Skaro and bonk senseless. Jim Bowen tells them "Look at what you could of won" and gets the Clangermen on Bullseye instead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6822513165159414257?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6822513165159414257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-dusty-bin-of-daleks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6822513165159414257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6822513165159414257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-dusty-bin-of-daleks.html' title='Doctor Who and the Dusty Bin of the Daleks'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2354364447700314883</id><published>2010-01-01T20:46:00.004Z</published><updated>2010-01-01T21:23:53.179Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and the End of the Attack of Time of Death and stuff that really doesn't matter a f**k and that</title><content type='html'>The Barsteward is leaping around about the place acting like an eejit in this scarp yard so The Doctor Who goes there to chase him around the place for a laugh. Wilf is there too with a gang of old mates (but they aren't old in a scary way, more old in a 'young at heart' way and hence less repulsive to the non-pension collecting demographic and therefore telly-friendly). The Doctor Who goes to a cafe with Wilf. They eat buns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Barsteward dresses up as Hannibal Lecter for Halloween (it's actually Christmas but, y'know, he's a bit mixed up what with the drums and all) and gets invited to a party by some random fiendish types who seek immortality or some guff (forget it, it's like Lucy suddenly producing a magic anti-Barsteward potion from her pyjamas, it really doesn't matter a f**k). As a party trick, the Barsteward turns everyone into him. "I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together", doesn't say the Barsteward because he isn't the Walrus (he dressed up as the walrus a couple of years ago - see Last of the Timespanks deleted scene - but actually forget it because, like the random immortality seekers or Lucy's pyjama potion, it really doesn't matter a f**k).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, a bunch of Timelads show up led by George Lazenby (of Remington Steele fame) and raise a bit of hell because ...well forget about exactly &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;why&lt;/span&gt; because, like the random immortality enthusiasts, Lucy's family making a potion (huh?) or the Barsteward's walrus venture, it doesn't actually matter a f**k. The Doctor Who starts fooling around with a gun and shoots an important furnishing and The Barsteward hands Lazenby his ass on a plate and then goes off some place (not sure where, probably doesn't matter a f**k) and then we reach the really important part. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. . .RTD, um, no, I mean, . . .The Doctor Who does an extended curtain call and tweenies all over the UK, and various appendages thereof, weep buckets. Hungover dads belch, mams pretend to be interested, dogs and cats snooze and it goes on a bit. Then the Ood write a song with nice Mr. Gold and Enya and then the TARDIS starts to explode (why? you ask, doesn't matter a f**k says I) and then there's this new The Doctor Who standing there talking about having possible gender reassignment issues and laughing at his dire predicament re: TARDIS exploding around him as if he doesn't give a f**k. &lt;br /&gt;GEEEEEEEEEEEROOOOOOOOONNNNNNNNNIIIIIIIIIIIIIMO!    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2354364447700314883?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2354364447700314883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-end-of-attack-of-time-of.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2354364447700314883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2354364447700314883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2010/01/doctor-who-and-end-of-attack-of-time-of.html' title='The Doctor Who and the End of the Attack of Time of Death and stuff that really doesn&apos;t matter a f**k and that'/><author><name>Garr</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07468671139764329623</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7706116749179430676</id><published>2009-12-23T11:36:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-23T11:38:04.588Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Reindeer of Death</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;Archivist's note: This was the BBC's festive offering for 2009.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who is in Lapland. Alone once more - apart from a film crew. Trampling through the snow. He knows he is near the end. He is the ONLY ONE LEFT. The laws of time will obey him - he's gone bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Director:&lt;/b&gt; "OK, luvvies. Action!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The camera shows the Doctor Who momentarily bemused as he spots the Tardis buried in snow, surrounded by inquisitive reindeer. He raises an eyebrow then gives a knowing smirk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Director:&lt;/b&gt; "Cut!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who is on his mobile. "Listen, Ramsay. I've found the merchandise. Correctamundo. Enough to fill your freezers many times over. But it's gonna cost you. Yeah, I could use the sonic. But nah. You know me. Always happy to use a gun - just not when anyone's watching."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The evil the Doctor Who pauses to think, then continues. "If you think I'm gonna hump those carcasses into the Tardis, you're a bigger mother than I thought, Gordon. But I've had an idea. I think I might be able to get them to come to you - I'll just have a word with the Director. Hah!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moments later, filming resumes. The Doctor Who has hitched the reindeer to his mysterious blue box. With a maniacal laugh, he rides Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Donner, Blitzen and Rudolf away into the vortex... and to their certain doom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7706116749179430676?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7706116749179430676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-reindeer-of-death.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7706116749179430676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7706116749179430676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-reindeer-of-death.html' title='Doctor Who and the Reindeer of Death'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8599216642069738350</id><published>2009-12-23T10:39:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-28T22:15:35.633Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Five'/><title type='text'>Earthshocky</title><content type='html'>Adric keeps looking at people doing mad things in the nude on the Space Time Visualiser and standing back and putting his hand to his mouth and giggling and then kind of creeping forward and rewinding and watching again. He's being really weird around the girls too so the Doctor Who decides that he must die. Being a pacifist, the Doctor Who sets it up so that his old friends the Cyberlads can arrange a little accident for Adric. The Cyberlads, who are spending their time checking out old Who vids and hanging around with spandex clad modern dance types in caves, agree to help the Doctor Who as they are a bit bored anyway. Seeing as the Cyberlads have arranged to do in Beryl Reid they decide to throw Adric in on the deal and hit two birds with one stone but it's not a stone it's a giant spaceship and it's not two birds but one Earth!!! Adric finds a computer on the giant spaceship and becomes so preoccupied with trying to download people doing mad things in the nude and standing back and giggling with his hand to his mouth that he completely forgets to get off the massive huge spaceship before ...KABOOM! Poor dinos but mammals happy, ...mmm fur!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, on the TARDIS, the Doctor Who, the two girls, and the Cyberlads are goofing around with Adric's stuff for the laugh and leave it all over the floor and broken and that. Everyone forgets about Adric by Heathrow teatime and Geordie's anomaly is grand and only causes the happy music at the end to vanish. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8599216642069738350?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8599216642069738350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/earthshocky.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8599216642069738350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8599216642069738350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/earthshocky.html' title='Earthshocky'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2453705811933407452</id><published>2009-12-23T10:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-28T22:16:09.031Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Midnighty</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who is on the last bus home with a bunch of spazez. The biggest spaz is Sky because she keeps repeating everything the Doctor Who says in a whiny voice and making him look a propa biatch. Here is a sample of the script taken from Russell Tea Davis' book 'E-mails I Sent Whilst Drunk or Over-Tired'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; Is that you Sky?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sky:&lt;/b&gt; Is that you Sky?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; Stop copying me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sky:&lt;/b&gt; Stop copying me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; You're being annoying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sky:&lt;/b&gt; You're being annoying!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;The Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;(thinks, smirks and then says&lt;/i&gt;) I'm Sky and I'm a big poo pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Sky:&lt;/b&gt; I'm the Doctor Who and I'm a big poo pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Jethro:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;(points at the Doctor Who)&lt;/i&gt; Owned!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, The Doctor Who is getting really fed up with Sky making everyone laugh at him and then they all get in a strop with him coz he's like being a proper biatch and that's not cool so they try and get the bus conductor lady to throw him off the bus and there's nothing the Doctor Who can do coz he's like Sky's biaaaaaaatch. EPIC FAIL! OWNED! LOL!       &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2453705811933407452?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2453705811933407452/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/midnighty.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2453705811933407452'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2453705811933407452'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/midnighty.html' title='Midnighty'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4390662356617645257</id><published>2009-12-23T10:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-28T22:17:06.342Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Five'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Worriers of the Deep</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the fifth visits the seaside but discovers that the local fish people are all in a terrible tizz. Icthar has emerged from the ocean with a nagging fear that he might have left the gas on. His Silurian chums are fretting about the weather while Sea Devil colleagues are worried that they won't measure up in the trouser department. The Doctor Who takes them all to a fishing contest to take their minds off their anxieties and they thoroughly enjoy the experience. Unfortunately fighting breaks out at the weigh-in when the winning scores are contested but organiser Commander Vorshak refuse to measure the catches again. The Doctor Who is left complaining "There should have been another weigh." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4390662356617645257?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4390662356617645257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-worriers-of-deep.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4390662356617645257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4390662356617645257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-worriers-of-deep.html' title='Doctor Who and the Worriers of the Deep'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-5915598464065436160</id><published>2009-12-23T10:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-28T22:18:18.467Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor One'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Bumfighters</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;(Featuring the Beast of Steven)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who the first is more crochety than usual thanks to toothache. He can't find an NHS dentist so steers the Tardis to Tombstone (not of the Clangermen) for a cheap offer by the local sawbones. Steven signs up for work at the local ranch in Brokeback Gulch where his eye is caught by handsome cowpoke Larry Grayson. Dodo hears a strange rustling - some cattle are being stolen. And someone keeps singing. She goes to alert Steven and is shocked to find him pursuing a terrible agenda with Grayson. The two men pretend nothing has happened and Steven marries Dodo, his childhood sweetheart, and has several children. However, whenever the Doctor Who or Dodo look round, Steven and Grayson are at it again, making the beast with two backs. And someone keeps singing. The Doctor Who calls in Doc Holliday and Wyatt Earp to sort out the scenes of depravity developing at the so-not-OK Corral. The two men look at each other as if to drawl "Have I the right?" before going in all guns blazing. The Doctor Who breaks the fourth wall by turning to the camera and saying "Let that be a warning to you, children" before heading off into time and space.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-5915598464065436160?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/5915598464065436160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-bumfighters.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5915598464065436160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5915598464065436160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-bumfighters.html' title='Doctor Who and the Bumfighters'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-1703616758506609229</id><published>2009-12-22T21:03:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T21:03:51.949Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Six'/><title type='text'>Attack of the Cyberlads or Who Deleted All the Pies.</title><content type='html'>The TARDIS is working again and turns into some stuff you have in the garage but wish wasn't in the garage but will always leave in the garage. Meanwhile, some stuff happens that really should be happening in The Sweeney and Brian Glover is there and my brother still thinks he was the singer in Bad Manners. Disgusting coated The Doctor Who plays a trick on Peri that isn't really funny and is kind of creepy actually and but she laughs it off in a nervous way and thanks God that shop on Jaconda sold pepper spray. Then these Cyberlads start hanging around underground, lording it up as if they are Yetis or giant rats or something and one of them has a belly on him from too much crisps, pies, and lager and he meets Lytton and crushes his hand and blood comes out and it's only teatime and do you remember that time Peri was in her bikini in the one from last year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Elsewhere, Geordie gives Data some advice on social small talk before seeing to the trifling matter of a little anomaly that turns out to be perfectly grand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-1703616758506609229?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/1703616758506609229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/attack-of-cyberlads-or-who-deleted-all.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1703616758506609229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1703616758506609229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/attack-of-cyberlads-or-who-deleted-all.html' title='Attack of the Cyberlads or Who Deleted All the Pies.'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-692376245024657310</id><published>2009-12-22T20:28:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T20:32:50.908Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Six'/><title type='text'>Tribulations of a Timelad - One to Four</title><content type='html'>His menopausal symptoms abating more so, The Doctor Who is put on trial by Mrs. Bisto Sagacity for crimes against fashion. The Doctor Who is offered Rupert the Bear as defence counsel but declines and instead opts to defend himself by shrieking indignantly and puffing out his chest. The Doctor Who starts boasting about the time he and Peri met your one off the Carry On films, not Windsor, the other one, y'know, what's her face, no not Hatti Jacques either, the other one that was kind of a mixture between those two, y'know, Carry on Screaming and all that. Anyway, the Doctor says that there was this huge toy robot and lots of good humoured light banter and such and everyone finds the story OK, if a bit flat, except this knob in a black hat who keeps interrupting the story and throwing in his own bits and muddling stuff up. I think it might've been Michael Grade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Geordie discovers an anomaly that causes a pretty good effect to be seen briefly but it's just an exception that proves a rule and everything is grand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;To be continued!&lt;/i&gt; Next Time: Peri takes a leave out of Britney's book and goes skinhead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-692376245024657310?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/692376245024657310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/tribulations-of-timelad-one-to-four.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/692376245024657310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/692376245024657310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/tribulations-of-timelad-one-to-four.html' title='Tribulations of a Timelad - One to Four'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2266673673475124183</id><published>2009-12-22T20:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T20:23:31.785Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Five'/><title type='text'>Planet of Firey Fire Planets</title><content type='html'>Peri is in a bikini and Kamelion starts acting like a knob and pretending to be her dad and freaking her out and she's in her bikini. As Peri is in her bikini the Bar Steward shows up but he's only a tiny little bollix and Peri, who was in her bikini, goes to kill him with her shoe. Proper order Peri, now quick, change back into the bikini! Peri's bikini bit is good and she's kind of wantonly unconscious for a bit in her bikini and Turlough discovers that he is from a planet that is ruled by Department S and has people around Turlough's age on it so he opts to leave the TARDIS (just as Peri bikini is coming aboard which is a bit of a dumb thing to do) and Peri is in her bikini and The Doctor Who fires Kamelion (hence the 'fire' in the title) because he keeps breaking down and anyway now The Doctor who has got Peri and her bikini so who needs a broke robot that helps the Bar Steward? Peri is in her bikini as Geordie Peri anomaly bikini grand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2266673673475124183?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2266673673475124183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/planet-of-firey-fire-planets.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2266673673475124183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2266673673475124183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/planet-of-firey-fire-planets.html' title='Planet of Firey Fire Planets'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2656318740696345586</id><published>2009-12-22T20:22:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-28T22:23:10.742Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Two'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Caber Tosser</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who number two was alone and stretched out in the Tardis sauna, a towel lightly draped around his waist and delicately running his fingers up and down his recorder. At that moment the door opened and in strode the proud, handsome form of Jamie, the young Highlander that the Time Lord had picked up in that Inverness nightclub all those weeks ago. But this was the first time that the Doctor Who had set eyes on the Culloden cross-dresser without his skirt. A frisson ran through his body as he watched the Scot slowly disrobe, his muscles rippling and the skin taut around his firm youthful limbs. "Er Jamie, why don't you come and sit over here," said the Doctor Who in his low but gentle growl, patting the slats of the wooden bench. "Och, helloo thair, thu noo, oor Ductorr Whoo" replied the young companion. "Ah didnae see ye throo thu steam, thu noo." Jamie lowered his firm buttocks onto the bench beside the Doctor Who. The Time Lord's two hearts were beating so fast he could hardly breathe. Dare he risk it? Jamie's eyes were closed and he was enjoying the heat of the steam when suddenly he felt a hand descend on his sporran. The Scot was up in a moment. Up on his feet. He pushed his face into that of the Doctor Who. "If ye evair try that agin, ye'll be askin fur a Glasgee handshake," he warned before grabbing his kilt and swiftly striding naked out of the sauna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2656318740696345586?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2656318740696345586/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-caber-tosser.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2656318740696345586'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2656318740696345586'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-caber-tosser.html' title='Doctor Who and the Caber Tosser'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-5833881865704089341</id><published>2009-12-22T20:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T20:20:04.719Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Three'/><title type='text'>Death To Them Daleks</title><content type='html'>These must be the crappiest Daleks ever. They make their entrance to the music from Andy Pandy but without the lyrics (LOL) and then their guns don't even work (FAIL) and then get beaten up by a bunch of lads with sticks!!! (OWNED). The Daleks are so scared of the lads with the sticks that they team up with The Doctor Who and The George Galloway. The George Galloway tells the Daleks that he salutes their courage, their strength, their indefatigability, and conveys his heartfelt eternal greetings and fraternal support. However, he then goes on to say that they are as immoral as a neo-con cabal, as plutocratic as the 20 year olds who were more popular than him in Big Brother, and as crap as Hitchens (which is true, although at least they are sober). The George Galloway then gets on all fours and pretends to be a cat which totally confuses the Daleks so they are now confused as well as frightened which makes them the super crappiest Daleks ever! (FAIL + OWNED = FAWNED!) These Daleks are so crap that they even play with toy TARDISes! (EPIC FAIL + LOL = EPFALOL!) and they have even taken the toy TARDISes out of their packaging which decreases their value somewhat (EPIC FAIL + OWNED + LOL + OMFG = EPFAWNOLFG).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, an ugly little bollix that sounds like that bear from Avid Merrion's show turns up for a game The Crystal Maze and everyone hides in these lazily dug square holes in the sand that are probably meant to be naturally formed or something and the whole thing is like a rainy seaside holiday with the cousins you hate and everyone keeps rowing and Geordie finds an anomaly in his sand castle but it just turns out to be a ciggie butt that was discarded by a BBC electrician and everything is grand. LOLS!    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-5833881865704089341?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/5833881865704089341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/death-to-them-daleks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5833881865704089341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5833881865704089341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/death-to-them-daleks.html' title='Death To Them Daleks'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6830356010212399157</id><published>2009-12-22T20:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T20:17:32.640Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Four'/><title type='text'>The Evil Face of the Face of Evil or The Day God's Pad Went Mad</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who looks forward to copping an eyeful of the Oneforthedads tribe and so heads off to the planet Oneforthedads, where he once ran a small computer repair business (that he used advertise by leaving up cards on the message board in Tescos and that kind of thing). Arriving, The Doctor Who is very disappointed to discover that only one of the Oneforthedads tribe is actually One For The Dads and that the rest are merely 'for the birds'. There are invisible things there too that generally make a nuisance of themselves but make up for it by being inexpensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, turns out that The Doctor Who was crap at fixing computers and one of them has become a right e****. So, instead of tricking the computer into dying or getting the Oneforthedads tribe to smash it (because being a pacifist he can't kill it outright himself) The Doctor Who decides to repair the thing with the proper recovery disk this time. The Doctor Who realises that this means he'll lose his file of saucy pictures of Oneforthedads tottie he put on the e****'s harddrive years ago but he also realises that it'll be worth it because the computer is really being a total dick although not quite as much as a dick as that BOSS fella who was bat**** nuts and had giant maggots and all that. The Doctor Who then heads off with the Oneforthedads who is actually One For The Dads and later discovers that she likes sticking knives in people and poisoning them so he gets her a dog to teach her responsibility. Meanwhile, Geordie discovers an anomaly that has caused the BBC to actually commission a 'comedy' show starring Messrs Little and Large to be shown either before or after The Doctor Who Show (I can't remember). Anyway, it certainly is not grand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6830356010212399157?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6830356010212399157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/evil-face-of-face-of-evil-or-day-gods.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6830356010212399157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6830356010212399157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/evil-face-of-face-of-evil-or-day-gods.html' title='The Evil Face of the Face of Evil or The Day God&apos;s Pad Went Mad'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8287597539751457704</id><published>2009-12-22T20:15:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-28T22:13:42.834Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>The John and Gillian Adventures (Spin-off)</title><content type='html'>Sunday afternoon in John and Gillian's cramped attic in Shoreditch. Gillian attempts to do the ironing and ignore John's constant hectoring. John slouches on a nearby armchair and makes pointed remarks about Gillian's wealthy background, calling her "the good Lady Pusillanimous" and generally belittling her. The hectoring grows into a tirade and concludes in a physical confrontation, resulting in the ironing board overturning and Gillian's arm getting a burn. John storms out the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gillian calls on her old pal the Doctor Who (a.k.a. Grandfather?) to help and he duly arrives. However, when the Doctor Who comes in the door Gillian sees that he has regenerated into a fierce plug-eared northern man (Alan Sillitoe stylee) in a leather jacket who has finally gone too far and wiped out two whole species. "You're hurt because everything's changed", Gillian tells him, "and John's hurt because everything's stayed the same". The Doctor Who regrets dumping John and Gillian back into the mundane existence they sought to escape almost as much as he regrets wiping out his entire species because he was angry and Northern and life's unfair unless you're a fancy southern sort.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who takes Gillian away for an adventure involving things that look quite like Daleks (but aren't because they couldn't get permission from Mr. Nation's estate) and John returns to find a note. John then takes up with Gillian's friend who looks a bit like Leela (only with jeans and t-shirt drawn on her and with a new name) however this doesn't last long when Gillian returns and resumes her relationship with John. John breaks down and roars something about how the Doctor showed them the stars and furthest reaches of space and the most remarkable things. He asks Gillan how she can go back to "all this blah, blah, blah?" He roughly grabs Gillian's shoulders and demands that she scream or roar or at least say something. Tears brim in Gillian's eyes and all she can do is turn away from her deranged lover and bury her head in her hands. She mutters something about being pregnant. The lights dim, the curtain descends, Geordie notices an anomaly that may indicate that John and Gillian are, in fact, brother and sister ...but no one really cares and it's grand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8287597539751457704?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8287597539751457704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/john-and-gillian-adventures-spin-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8287597539751457704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8287597539751457704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/john-and-gillian-adventures-spin-off.html' title='The John and Gillian Adventures (Spin-off)'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4171517670678649770</id><published>2009-12-22T14:48:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T14:48:54.295Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>Mission to the Unknownest Planet of Unknown</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who doesn't even bother to show up for this one. A bloke sees a gang of Boobahs drinking cider at the corner of his street. Fearing that this means trouble ahead, he attempts to contact the authorities but a Boobah nicks his mobile phone and the rest give him a kicking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geordie won't shut up about his precious anomalies either. "Everything is grand Geordie!" roar the viewers.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4171517670678649770?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4171517670678649770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/mission-to-unknownest-planet-of-unknown_22.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4171517670678649770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4171517670678649770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/mission-to-unknownest-planet-of-unknown_22.html' title='Mission to the Unknownest Planet of Unknown'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8910283515222261079</id><published>2009-12-22T14:46:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T14:46:30.344Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor One'/><title type='text'>Galaxy 4</title><content type='html'>Doctor Who gets tired of Galaxy 3 so he drops in next door to discover a troop of delightful young ladies along with charming Chumblies, rascally Rills, Telly Tubbies, Clangers, and perhaps strangest of all, ...the mysterious Boobahs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Geordie is still going on about anomalies but everything is grand. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8910283515222261079?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8910283515222261079/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/galaxy-4.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8910283515222261079'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8910283515222261079'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/galaxy-4.html' title='Galaxy 4'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8419563103588218657</id><published>2009-12-22T14:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T14:27:29.658Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>Snaky Dance</title><content type='html'>Of all the companions ever it is Tegan who has been most eager to fly the TARDIS and tonight Matthew(?) she does, taking the gang to Manumission where her ne'er do well chum O'Mara is doing a 'set' on the 'decks' (young adult speak for putting long players on the gramophone). There's a rich bloke with big ears called Lonny whose Nintendo Wii is broken so he gets bored and just lays around on the chaise longue all day being rude to his mother. He's delighted when Tegan and O'Mara show up with their decks as it gives him an opportunity to take substances from E Space and imagine he enjoys the company of working class people for a while. Meanwhile, the whole Geordie anomaly thing is getting old but what can you do? There he is again, spotting the old anomalies, fixing them, making everything grand. We'll miss him when he's gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8419563103588218657?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8419563103588218657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/snaky-dance.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8419563103588218657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8419563103588218657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/snaky-dance.html' title='Snaky Dance'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8606512643336615883</id><published>2009-12-22T14:20:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T14:20:24.667Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>The Christmas of the Damned</title><content type='html'>The big ship sails on the Ally Ally Oh except it's not the Ally Ally Oh it's outer space and the big ship is the Titanic and the Titanic is crap and always sinks*.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two fat ignorant people are on the ship ruining it for everyone by being fat and ignorant and dressing stupidly. The Doctor Who is nice them so that he can trick them into dying later which he does and they do. The Robots of Death are on the ship also, dressed up all Christmassy and pretending to be the Ood. Kylie Minouge is on the ship and she is beloved of the gays as is the Doctor Who but the Doctor Who is not a gay he is ...well he's not really arsed but he does like to manipulate the emotions of women that are far younger than him because it makes him feel full up inside, or at least a little more full up. Anyway, the Doctor Who sets to work on Kylie Minogue but she dies while she is trying to run over a severely disabled man in a fork-lift, which is surprising because no one would ever have guessed that Kylie Mynogge could drive fork-lift as it isn't really part of her usual working day and anyway don't you need a certificate or something. I knew a girl called julie drove one for a while and she got a cert and made good money out of it but not as much as a pop singer LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Mo from Eastenders has had better Christmases than this but at least the gays are happy with their agenda ruining everything for me and Aunt Dolly who is very sensitive to such things and often in need of smelling salts. Oh, and there's a guy called the Bananalattecafe or something in it too but he's only a little bollix so forget about him and Geordie is on the Titanic going on about anomalies but everyone's too busy wondering if the meteoroids are actually meteorites and if they are how come they are on fire before passing through Earth's atmosphere so it's grand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8606512643336615883?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8606512643336615883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-of-damned.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8606512643336615883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8606512643336615883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-of-damned.html' title='The Christmas of the Damned'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7391842096345775445</id><published>2009-12-22T14:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T14:00:41.361Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Seven'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Anomalies of the Grand</title><content type='html'>A strange anomaly in the space-time continuum draws the Tardis onto a planet where everything is grand. After coughing up a grand to Ken Dodd for the toll fee, the Doctor Who is forced to run the gauntlet of a thousand grand pianos that have mysteriously lined up along the Rio Grande but evades them by fleeing into the Grand Canyon. Exhausted, the Doctor Who checks into the Grand Hotel, Brighton, to find Wilf, Donna's Grandfather, waiting for him. They settle down for a few beers while watching the Grand Prix, then stick A Grand Day Out With Wallace and Gromit and Le Grand Bleu on the time-space video-recorder-machine-type visualiser. Garr arrives with his mate Geordie and gets a smack for his trouble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7391842096345775445?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7391842096345775445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-anomalies-of-grand.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7391842096345775445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7391842096345775445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-anomalies-of-grand.html' title='Doctor Who and the Anomalies of the Grand'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2003112552403919085</id><published>2009-12-22T13:51:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T13:51:52.268Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and the Children of Gallifrey - Day Five</title><content type='html'>OMFG!!! Jack. Pwned. Epic Fail. LMFAOLMNOPELICAN! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2003112552403919085?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2003112552403919085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-children-of-gallifrey_675.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2003112552403919085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2003112552403919085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-children-of-gallifrey_675.html' title='The Doctor Who and the Children of Gallifrey - Day Five'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4190848850160723102</id><published>2009-12-22T13:50:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T13:50:07.863Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>The 4,5,6, in Up in Smoke (spinoff)</title><content type='html'>Tommy Chong plays 4, a jobless alien monster who is kicked out of his house by his father. 4 manages to trick 5 (played by Cheech Marin) into picking him up off the side of a highway by posing as a woman with large breasts. They roll up and share a large child. Police discover that they are stoned and arrest them. At their trial, the pair are released on a technicality after the judge is discovered to be drinking vodka. In an attempt to procure some children, they visit 5's cousin 6 (Tom Skerritt). They narrowly escape a police raid on 6's house, but are soon deported to Tijuana by the INS, along with 5's illegal immigrant relatives (who just want a free ride to a wedding).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In order to get back to the United States they arrange to pick up a vehicle from 5's uncle's upholstery shop but arrive at the wrong place, a child warehouse, and end up unknowingly involved in a plot to smuggle a van constructed completely out of "kiddie-weed" from Mexico to Los Angeles, with an inept police narcotics unit hot on their heels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along the way, 5 and 4 narrowly avoid arrest, despite, at one point, being pulled over by the police (luckily for them, the officer gets high from the smoke coming from their van), and pick up two women, who later convince them to perform at a Battle of the Bands contest. The film concludes with their band, Alice Bowie winning the contest, and a recording contract, with a performance of their song Earache My Eye Stalk due to large amounts of kiddie-weed smoke being accidentally funneled into the building directly towards the audience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4190848850160723102?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4190848850160723102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/456-in-up-in-smoke-spinoff.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4190848850160723102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4190848850160723102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/456-in-up-in-smoke-spinoff.html' title='The 4,5,6, in Up in Smoke (spinoff)'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8511313135598567123</id><published>2009-12-22T13:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T13:48:30.303Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Whatever'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and the Children of Gallifrey - Day Two</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who pops back next day to see the 456 and everything seems a bit different but he commences negotiations anyway over John and Gillian's fate. The aliens looks bemused but then realise they're talking at cross-purposes, LOL, and tell him, "Oh not you've got the wrong mothership. We're the 457. The 456 live across the road!" And an embarrassed the Doctor Who gets in a right two and eight, and he's all at sixes and sevens when he should be on cloud nine but he spouts his "sorry, I'm so sorry" guff, explains he's been working 24/7 and leaves. Before he gets to the 456 he pops into the 7/11 on the corner, cos he likes a little shop, but gets ripped off so he resorts to violence as usual and give them the old one two and a bunch of fives and someone calls 999 or 911 or whatever and he realises his number's up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8511313135598567123?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8511313135598567123/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-children-of-gallifrey_22.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8511313135598567123'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8511313135598567123'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-children-of-gallifrey_22.html' title='The Doctor Who and the Children of Gallifrey - Day Two'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7976467575992355551</id><published>2009-12-22T13:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T13:46:31.848Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and the Children of Gallifrey</title><content type='html'>Gwen's got it wrong. Typical girl. FAIL! The Doctor Who never turned away in shame. He just never knew about it, right, cos the time-space visualiser was on the blink again and anyway Martha Jones never phoned him up cos she was too busy getting all loved up on her honeymoon, silly bitch. Doh! FAIL! And the Doctor Who is kicking himself cos he knows he's missed a trick here and had his best chance yet to get rid of John and Gillian. TRIPLE FAIL! But then the Doctor Who has a wicked thought and decides he can reset the coordinates and go back in time and get together with the 4,5,6 and see if he can pass John and Gillian off as quality stuff, like sort of Gallifreyan Gold. And OK that might be breaking the rules, interfering with events, fixed point in time and all that but WTF! And the Doctor Who gets to the mother ship and the 4,5,6 are all lolling about and like totally out of it and passing around the kids and it is impossible to have a proper conversation. And the 4,5,6 start giggling and one of them thinks he's a tree. But then it gets nasty cos one of the 4,5,6 who's a bit of a bully accuses Kevin, who's slumped against the opposite hull, of bogarting that kid and it like totally ruins the party atmosphere and the Doctor Who decides to come back another time for John and Gillian's "innoculations".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;To be continued! &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7976467575992355551?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7976467575992355551/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-children-of-gallifrey.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7976467575992355551'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7976467575992355551'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-children-of-gallifrey.html' title='The Doctor Who and the Children of Gallifrey'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7128431342145264744</id><published>2009-12-22T13:44:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T13:44:18.130Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and the Return of the Attack of the 4,5,6 of Death.</title><content type='html'>Richard returns to the 4,5,6 mothership with one tenth of the Earth's children in tow. "What the bloody hell did you bring them back with you for?" asks an irate Janet, tentacles waving angrily in the mist. "I need friends" says Richard, "you and Miles are acting all grown up and I need someone to play with". "You're such a child!" says Janet, and goes back to reading Just Seventeen magazine. "Well I am only eleven" says Richard and then suddenly pukes up. Janet's magazine lowers and her eyes peer angrily over the top (on their stalks). Richard smiles sheepishly, "I had too much Earth jelly" he admits. "Clean it up and if one of those kids scrawls on the mothership walls with crayons like the ones from the 60's did I'm dumping you all off on the surface of Midnight" warns Janet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7128431342145264744?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7128431342145264744/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-return-of-attack-of-456.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7128431342145264744'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7128431342145264744'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-return-of-attack-of-456.html' title='The Doctor Who and the Return of the Attack of the 4,5,6 of Death.'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-3926702994745211150</id><published>2009-12-22T13:42:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T13:42:41.800Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and the 4,5,6.</title><content type='html'>The 4, 5, 6 are in their mothership lounging around bored when Richard says, "let's go back to that funny little place, what was it called again, planet Earth." Miles affects a yawn of pronounced nonchalance and declares himself bored of invasions. "But we could really make something of it this time, turn it into a real occasion" argues Richard. "And how do you propose we do that?" asks Miles, fanning himself with last season's summer programme whilst in languid repose upon a chaise lounge that has seen better days. "We'll promote ourselves this time, we'll put up posters, tell them we're coming, we'll go on Pebble Mill, we'll really give it a go" answers Richard, hopping to his feet and pacing the room excitedly. He continues, "we could make a viral, something creepy but compelling." "How about we hack into the small ones, the ones who love eating crisps and calling their female parental units 'cows', we could get them to herald our return, it would be quite something" suggests Janet as she looks up from her sudoku. "Oh, wooooonnnnnderful" exclaims Richard, leaping a little into the air and clapping his hands, "that'll put the wind up them, we'll be the talk of town."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, I'm not sure, the whole portentous foreshadowing business is no guarantee of success, just look at those sleeper cell hook armed chaps, whatever happened to them, does anyone care?" mumbles Miles, sitting up and stretching. "Well I'm not doing another panto season with Biggins" protests Richard tearfully, "I'm bloody invading and doing a bloody good run too, one week only, my name will be up in lights, you'll see". He runs out of the room. Miles just looks to Janet and shrugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, Richard arrives on Earth to underwhelming reviews, not even The Doctor Who showed up and the whole publicity campaign was obviously counter-productive to his invasion plan. "It's just not fair", he confides to Janet. "You should have gone through the darkness" she says. "Oh the bloody darkness, everyone's doing that these days," Richard hisses and storms out of the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-3926702994745211150?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/3926702994745211150/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-456.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3926702994745211150'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3926702994745211150'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-456.html' title='The Doctor Who and the 4,5,6.'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2525468765154878968</id><published>2009-12-22T13:40:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T13:40:31.811Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who on the Planet of the Not So Hot Chicks</title><content type='html'>It being almost three decades since his last visit, metro-sexual The Doctor Who the hair-gel arrives back on the planet of the Hot Chicks and goes to check on his old pals the Crue. The guys in the Crue are doing fine thanks to surgical re-upholstery and copious amounts of mood enhancers. The Hot Chicks are faring less well however, having mutated into MILF creatures after falling victim to some cut-price surgical preservation. No longer being able to turn the heads of the Crue, the chicks earn some extra cash via the use of web-cams, ...they try to frame the shots so their fat husbands (who all seem to be called Stan or Gus) can't be seen sitting in front of the TV at the other end of the trailer roaring "get me a beer you goddam tramp". It is a lesson in bitter sweet irony for metro-sexual The Doctor Who the hair gel. He walks back to the TARDIS all forlorn and glad that at least Jamie didn't have to see this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2525468765154878968?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2525468765154878968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-on-planet-of-not-so-hot.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2525468765154878968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2525468765154878968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-on-planet-of-not-so-hot.html' title='The Doctor Who on the Planet of the Not So Hot Chicks'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-5155426108830832539</id><published>2009-12-22T13:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T13:36:55.825Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Water Board of Mars</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the going-slightly-mad-thanks-to-the-infernal-John-and-Gillian drops in on Mars but is captured by a robot called Inspector Gadget or something and taken to an colony of Earthlings. There he discovers that they have given a new meaning to the term "colonic irrigation" because water is pouring in from a burst pipe or something. So the Doctor Who rings Mars Water to complain and is left hanging on the phone listening to some muzak and thus discovers the torture called Water-Boarding. Adelaide calls a plumber but he sucks in air through his teeth and says "It'll cost yer". The Doctor Who finally snaps and kidnaps the entire colony because he's the ONLY ONE LEFT - conveniently forgetting about John and Gillian! OMG! Fail! Then he takes them all back to Earth. John and Gillian take the opportunity to get on the X Factor where they create a new form of torture by singing. They embarrass the Doctor Who by winning acres of space in the trashy tabloids which dub them "Jillian" to save space. But the ordeal is too much for Adelaide who shoots herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-5155426108830832539?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/5155426108830832539/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-water-board-of-mars.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5155426108830832539'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5155426108830832539'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-water-board-of-mars.html' title='Doctor Who and the Water Board of Mars'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6930185281697321593</id><published>2009-12-21T18:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T18:36:17.219Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Whatever'/><title type='text'>The Doctor Who and the Planet of the S***e Posts</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who arrives back on the World Wide Web planet of Vortis to discover Zarbi and Menoptra adopting pseudonyms and plugged into the Animus where they talk utter s***e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Zarbi Republic&lt;/i&gt; says: I pass a place called Pond Villas on my way to work every morning. I wonder if Amy Pond lives there. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then &lt;i&gt;Menoptraboptra&lt;/i&gt; says: The TARDIS is pretty big. Who keeps it clean? I can't even keep my car clean. LOL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then &lt;i&gt;Zarbi Republic&lt;/i&gt; says: There are plenty of threads about cars on the car forum, there is no need to start threads about cars here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;i&gt;Menoptraboptra&lt;/i&gt; says: I wasn't really talking about cars I was talking about the TARDIS being clean. This is the TARDIS part of the forum is it not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;i&gt;Zarbi Republic&lt;/i&gt; goes: Yes it is the TARDIS part of the forum but you should be on the RETARDIS part of the forum. LMFAO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So &lt;i&gt;Menoptraboptra&lt;/i&gt; says: You can't talk to me like that. It is against forum rules.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And &lt;i&gt;Zarbi Republic&lt;/i&gt; retorts: Back seat moderator eh? Who died and made you Animus?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then &lt;i&gt;Menoptraboptra&lt;/i&gt; goes: I wish you'd die.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then, all of a sudden, some guy called &lt;i&gt;Giant Ant Canoe Head Ballet Tights Camera Basher&lt;/i&gt; comes on and says: I think Doctor Who should be cancelled and you are both Timetards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the &lt;i&gt;Animus&lt;/i&gt; comes along and says: Enough. I'm locking this thread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then The Doctor Who finds another thread of the Web upon which &lt;i&gt;Menoptra&lt;/i&gt; and &lt;i&gt;Zarbi&lt;/i&gt; are discussing who would win in a fight, Predator or Mr.T., And that thread gets a bit heated and someone infers that someone else is a Holocaust denier and The Doctor Who sighs and logs off. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6930185281697321593?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6930185281697321593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-planet-of-se-posts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6930185281697321593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6930185281697321593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-planet-of-se-posts.html' title='The Doctor Who and the Planet of the S***e Posts'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-133982921717756336</id><published>2009-12-21T12:47:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T00:08:58.419Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>The End of Credulity</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;This episode may be lost in the sense that it hasn't quite been broadcast yet, but there can be no doubting its canonicity. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who the Tenth announces his plans to degenerate to join U.S. TV. His boss Rusty Pantsonfire runs around in a panic for several days before a sudden glint appears in his eye. He calls on his old Irish stereotype pal Eamonn Andrews to plan a special edition of That Was Your Lives to celebrate. The Doctor Who is lured into a trap by the Ood monsters where Eamonn presents him with the Big Red Book. He is whisked to a studio where all his old friends including Ian, Barbarella, Dodo, Daleks, Chumblies, Clangermen, the Master, Donna, Rose, Martha, John and Gillian, Wilf, Jamie etc etc regale him with tedious stories. Most of the other Doctors turn up by Doctor Five is sent down the wrong path. He wails: "There should have been another way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-133982921717756336?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/133982921717756336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/end-of-credulity.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/133982921717756336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/133982921717756336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/end-of-credulity.html' title='The End of Credulity'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2818460139283516182</id><published>2009-12-19T22:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T22:26:14.524Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Seven'/><title type='text'>The Dirty, Flirty and Bertie Patrol</title><content type='html'>Dirty the Doctor Who the rrrrrrarely rrrrrrrremembered takes Ace to meet his old friend Bertie Bassett the handyman and his pet Sycorax on the planet Picnmix. She is astonished at his liquorice body armour and quips “I suppose it takes all sorts!” The Doctor Who and Bertie look at her blankly so Ace is like “I said, it takes all sorts. Geddit?” More silence and then tumbleweed blows through the Tardis and the Sycorax growls and bares its teeth. The Doctor Who attempts to end the awkward silence by saying “Liquorice, eh? I have to say that rrrrrrreally I prrrrrefer some hard liquorrr.” Ace could do with a handyman herself and faints at the thought of a hard licker and the feral grandchildren John and Gillian take advantage of the confusion to rip off Bertie's arm as a snack but the sweetieman stops himself regenerating by siphoning off the energy into a candy bio-matching receptacle, namely his hand, that hand there, his candy spare hand. Since sadness is banned they all have a jolly good laugh over the misunderstanding, and then the Doctor Who keeps everyone laughing by recalling in detail the magic death of Adric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2818460139283516182?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2818460139283516182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/dirty-flirty-and-bertie-patrol.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2818460139283516182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2818460139283516182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/dirty-flirty-and-bertie-patrol.html' title='The Dirty, Flirty and Bertie Patrol'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-173959413583682252</id><published>2009-12-19T22:21:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T22:22:58.044Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Seven'/><title type='text'>Drags On A Bit Fire</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the rrrrarely rrrrremembered seventh is questioning his sexual identity, so when he mishears over the time-space visualiser that “bums go to Iceland” he eagerly sets course there in the Tardis straight away. The Doctor Who is browsing just past the “ready-meal s***e for a pound” freezers in the second aisle when he discovers a long-lost colony led by his old Liverpudlian friend from &lt;a href="http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-till-death-to-daleks-us.html"&gt;Till Death To The Daleks Us Do Part&lt;/a&gt; (already documented), Scarse Gitz. The Doctor Who is playing spoons with Gitz when Mel spots them and orders them both out of bed this minute! Completely sick of the irritating child, the Doctor Who looks the other way while allowing Gitz to kidnap her. Alone again and mourning his “loss” with a celebration drink in the nearby cafe, the Doctor Who is informed by his socially inadequate waitress Ace that this particular Iceland is actually a spaceship which newspaper tycoon Citizen Kane is driving around the cosmos to deliver copies of his odious tabloids. “Rrrrrrreally? Well we'll see about that, the little rrrrascal,” says the Doctor Who before pulling the plugs out of their sockets causing all the freezer cabinets to defrost and the spaceship to melt. Confidence in his sexuality restored, the Doctor Who decides to take Ace up the vortex and away they spin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-173959413583682252?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/173959413583682252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/drags-on-bit-fire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/173959413583682252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/173959413583682252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/drags-on-bit-fire.html' title='Drags On A Bit Fire'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-586975617090396518</id><published>2009-12-19T22:18:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T22:18:28.190Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Whatever'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Thai Meddler</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the 35th tossed his golden mane over his shoulder as he stood gripping the balcony rail of his luxury suite on the type 70 Tardis, watching star systems drift by. They'd mocked his Cornish accent when he said “Oh, oi'd loik ah bit of stargazy poi, sum cyder and a pasty.” But what did they know? Lots of planets had a s***hole. His new state of the art time vessel was his reward for bringing peace to the universe. Daleks were working with Clangermen, or those new-fangled Cybuslads, to revitalise deprived areas of the universe. Chumblies and Drahvins toiled hand in hand in harmony. He had even been spared further confrontation with his former nemesis the Master – or so it seemed. And now he had a beautiful new companion to put Rose and her infernal daisy-strewn minge out of his mind at last. A Thai beauty, Sam Ters Jeko, it said she was called in the &lt;i&gt;Radio Times &lt;/i&gt;cast list. This would be their first night together. At that moment, Jeko's voice summoned him back from within his bedchamber, And then he was wrapped around her at last, his hands gently caressing their way down Jeko's body. Suddenly he froze, rigid with shock. How was this possible? Was Jeko a ladyboy? And then Jeko was speaking in familiar words that ricocheted around his foolish, blond head: “Oh, my dear the Doctor Who. You have been naive.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-586975617090396518?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/586975617090396518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-thai-meddler.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/586975617090396518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/586975617090396518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-thai-meddler.html' title='Doctor Who and the Thai Meddler'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-5773989526126515677</id><published>2009-12-19T22:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T22:12:47.652Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Two'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Croutons</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the number two's Tardis is racing out of control through the vortex, hurtling towards the very beginning of time itself. When it finally materialises, the Doctor Who, Jamie and Zoe step out to find an early Earth apparently devoid of life except for the presence of vast supplies of primordial soup. The Doctor Who and his chums tuck into the soup with gusto before Jamie remarks on the very tasty, crunchy croutons. The Doctor Who is alarmed and commands his companions to taste not another drop. Examining the croutons with his sonic screwdriver, he finds that they appear, in fact, to be a minute form of rock. Suddenly the tiny rocks begin to pulsate with a peculiar glow, and the Doctor Who is startled to discover that they are a highly intelligent life-form, though without any form of plinth-type support. The Croutons begin to address the time travellers in a somewhat pompous fashion, glowing as they intonate. Sod this for a game of soldiers, says the Doctor Who, and they get chomping once more on their not-so-superior-after-all supper dish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-5773989526126515677?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/5773989526126515677/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-croutons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5773989526126515677'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5773989526126515677'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-croutons.html' title='Doctor Who and the Croutons'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2146970151632561329</id><published>2009-12-19T22:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T22:02:01.022Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Holby City of Death</title><content type='html'>Martha Jones bumps into a stranger on her way to work at the hospital leaving him so badly injured that he has to be rushed into casualty! It turns out to be the Doctor Who the tenth but she soon has him tucked up in bed. The Doctor Who is feeling a bit randy cos he is still missing Rose and so he gives Martha a saucy wink and invites her to get in between the sheets with him and flashes his sonic screwdriver. Martha giggles but then Hattie Jacques comes in and Martha says sorry matron and she is so in trouble. The Doctor Who is amazed at all the attention he is getting from lots of soap stars off of Corrie and that fat dim bloke off of EastEnders, no not Barry but that other one that used to run the video shop, you know, Nigel. Plus Patsy thingy, wife of that Noel Edmonds out of Oasis. Doctor Who is having a laugh with new friends Peter Bowles and James Bolam until Doctor Victor Constantine tells them to shut up. Then the Doctor Who's old friends the Judoons pop in to visit him and find him fighting the Stig and the other Stig off of Top Gear. They go to the Moon and back and then, in a moment of complete frustration and madness, the Doctor Who kidnaps Martha and whisks her off into the vortex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2146970151632561329?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2146970151632561329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/holby-city-of-death.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2146970151632561329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2146970151632561329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/holby-city-of-death.html' title='Holby City of Death'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7577105330723394304</id><published>2009-12-19T21:58:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:58:32.563Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor One'/><title type='text'>Trod</title><content type='html'>Now the Doctor Who the first gets summoned over the space-time visualiser by alien collector Henry van Winkle of UTube, Arizona. It is like deja vu all over again or Groundhog Day in reverse or something, making the Doctor Who especially crochety despite him presumably being the first to be summoned. Van Winkle has found yet another "Monstertron" that he cannot identify. The Doctor Who enters the creature's cell and is horrified at what he sees. Before him stands a cone-shaped robotic creature in chains - a Trod. The Doctor Who tells van Winkle that he has been ripped off by his alien dealer with a second-rate, comic-book monster and should demand his money back. Then before heading back into the vortex, the Doctor Who reveals he has been very taken with the array of torture apparatus in the cell and, with a mischievous twinkle, asks if he might install similar in the quarters he has prepared for his own "grandchildren" John and Gillian. Van Winkle refuses to license the technology and so the Doctor Who gets all crochety again and tells the ungrateful sod that he can go forward in all his beliefs and multiply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7577105330723394304?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7577105330723394304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/trod.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7577105330723394304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7577105330723394304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/trod.html' title='Trod'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-5910189930492770628</id><published>2009-12-19T21:56:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:56:27.769Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Three'/><title type='text'>Dalek</title><content type='html'>In a peculiar foreshadowing of the Doctor Who the northern's own encounter with a Chumbley, poofy the Doctor Who the third again gets summoned over the space-time visualiser by alien collector Henry van Winkle of UTube, Arizona, this time with companion Jo Grunt. Once again van Winkle has found a new "Monstertron" that he cannot identify. Poofy the Doctor Who agrees to enter the creature's cell and is horrified at what he sees. "I must insist that you let me out immediately" he demands, rapping at the door. "Unless I am very much mistaken, this is a Dalek and not to be trusted." Jo feels a peculiar frisson run through her body and asks if she might take a look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;A few hours later, and the Doctor Who and Jo Grunt are off up the vortex, leaving everything well, apart from a few dozen Dalek-massacred bodies. They laugh and congratulate themselves on a successful adventure. But three months on and Jo finds the Doctor Who puce with rage after thumbing through his latest issue of &lt;i&gt;Sluts Illustrated&lt;/i&gt;. She cannot deny the truth as she is confronted with the shocking image of her naked form draped around the mutant from Skaro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-5910189930492770628?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/5910189930492770628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/dalek.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5910189930492770628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5910189930492770628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/dalek.html' title='Dalek'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8053183025344232983</id><published>2009-12-19T21:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:54:05.874Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Scottish Bad Wolf</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the tenth and Rose romp in the heather until the approach of a carriage interrupts their fumblings. An escort rider rebukes Rose for her nakedness. But the Doctor Who goes all giggly and says if you think this is naked you should of seen her when I was threading daisies through her minge and that. And then Queen Victoria sticks her head out of the window and says naked, eh? and commands Rose to step forward and Rose says sorry for her nakedness, the noo, but the Queen says she doesn't mind a bit of nakedness and does Rose fancy a bit of lady fun. But the outrider reminds Her Majesty that they have to call at the local castle where a Bad Wolf is terrifying the monks and they have a laugh about monk-ey business but the Doctor Who kills the monster with his sonic screwdriver so everything is OK. However, Queen Victoria is so offended by the earlier rebuff that she tells the Doctor Who that he seems a bit fishy so she is setting up an institute, Codwoorth, that will be an anagram of his name and work outside the Ministry of Fisheries and Food to hunt him down. Then they bid each other a fond farewell and it is off into the vortex once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8053183025344232983?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8053183025344232983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/scottish-bad-wolf.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8053183025344232983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8053183025344232983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/scottish-bad-wolf.html' title='Scottish Bad Wolf'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2085847495709371233</id><published>2009-12-19T21:51:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:51:12.571Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Nude Earth</title><content type='html'>Rose is still puzzled by the change in her man. He has turned into the Doctor Who the what-what-WHAT? And as they lie naked on an alien pasture, she wonders if she can ever re-ignite that old spark. The new, chisel-jawed Time Lord seems hardly to notice her. "Neww-ah Earth-ah!" he declares. "And down there, the city-ah!.. New New New New New New New York-ah! Oh yes!" Rose glances around at the grass and thrusts her pelvis towards him. "Look at all them daisies," she says. " I was wonderin'... d'you wanna twiddle..." But he is away again, eager to reach the city. "But me minge!" she cries. "No worries," replies the Doctor Who. "Down there are the cat nuns. I'll have pussy galore!" "Wot, you really wanna go there?" asks Rose. "Correctamundo!" the Doctor Who declares, and then his eyes narrow. "Plus I've got a re-match with some chamois. Allons-y!" Belatedly, the Doctor Who notices the disappointment in Rose's face and his manner changes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he says... "but don't worry, Rose, there'll be a little shop - there'll be chips!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2085847495709371233?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2085847495709371233/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/nude-earth.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2085847495709371233'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2085847495709371233'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/nude-earth.html' title='Nude Earth'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-6319784332299683718</id><published>2009-12-19T21:49:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:49:21.966Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Ass Reunion ...or something.</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who and Rose (bottom throbbing from a discreet late night 'correction' at the hands of The Doctor Who as Mickey slept) travel to a school where The Doctor Who says they will get the chance to redden many a young posterior. However, the school is not quite the St. Trinian's The Doctor Who expected and corporeal punishment has been outlawed some decades by the time they arrive. Anyhoo, they meet Sarah Jane and Sarah Jane tells The Doctor Who that she loved him and Rose doesn't like this because she loves The Doctor Who because he's like a lively little puppy dog that gets sad sometimes and needs saving and has great bed hair, aww. The Doctor Who meets Buffy's dad, or whoever he is meant to be, at a swimming pool. There is a lot of tension at the pool and it's a bit like the old Bronski Beat video where Jimmy Sommerville makes eyes at that thug down the municipal baths and, as if that's not enough, Buffy's dad is called 'Head', give me a break, they are like soooo doing it. Anyway Mickey tells K9 that he loves The Doctor Who and K9 says that he loved The Doctor Who too and even used soooo hump his leg. And these giant bats get school kids to do their maths ekker (70s Dublin parlance for homework) and they love The Doctor Who and they are sooo doing it as were Bill and Ben the Flower Pot Men, Bond and Blofeld (see, there it is again, BLO...feld), Laurel and Hardy, the Lone Ranger and Tonto, Tom and Jerry, Simon and Garfunkle, Hulk Hogan and Andre the Giant, Noan Chomsky and Christopher Hitchens, Keith Harris and Orville, John Noakes and Shep, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Ro-Jaws and Hammerstein, Darth Vader and Obi-Wan, mods and rockers, God and Satan, matter and anti-matter, the beginning and the end, night and day, the sun and the moon, smoke and mirrors, snakes and ladders, swings and roundabouts, boom and bust, things and other things associated in anyway with those things, your left shoe and your right shoe (of the pair your wearing right now), Amnesty International and violations of human rights, Wembley Stadium and that huge beam of light from that 80s Quatermass where John Mills played Quatermass, and, finally, Geordi and his anomalies. Grand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-6319784332299683718?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/6319784332299683718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/ass-reunion-or-something.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6319784332299683718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/6319784332299683718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/ass-reunion-or-something.html' title='Ass Reunion ...or something.'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-5373817442181431481</id><published>2009-12-19T21:48:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:48:04.843Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>The Slipper and the Rose</title><content type='html'>Rose runs back into the Tardis, her eyes brimming with tears, and throws herself sobbing onto the bed. How could she be so foolish as to abandon dear, sweet, faithful Mickey for this feckless, cowardly, northern stranger. She feels so trapped and so very far from home. "We tried to warn you, slag," laughs John from his cell across the way. And then the Doctor Who the ninth is back, standing in the doorway, his shadow falling across the counterpane. Rose glances at him. He is holding a slipper. Her crying subsides. "You've been a very naughty girl, Rose," says the Doctor Who, tapping the item of footwear gently in the palm of his hand. "I'm going to have to punish you." Rose lifts an eyebrow. Then her mouth curls into a smile. "You're going to have to catch me first," she giggles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;An hour later and her thighs are burning but Rose's cries and laughter still echo through the Tardis's labyrinth of corridors. All is well and Rose is happy that she stayed. But as she lies face down and closes her eyes with a contented smile, the Doctor Who appears strangely troubled. His mind is far away, on a distant world with mountains, orange skies and silver-leafed trees, remembering some very different slap 'n tickle such a long, long time ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-5373817442181431481?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/5373817442181431481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/slipper-and-rose.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5373817442181431481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5373817442181431481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/slipper-and-rose.html' title='The Slipper and the Rose'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-3614718639151774284</id><published>2009-12-19T21:46:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:46:42.861Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Chumbley</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the northern gets summoned over the time-space visualiser by alien collector Henry van Winkle of UTube, Arizona, who has found a new "Monstertron" that he cannot identify. The Doctor Who agrees to enter the creature's cell and is horrified at what he sees. "Lemme out!" he cries, hammering on the door. "It's a feckin' Chumbley!" Rose is shocked at this show of weakness from the man she once loved. "Let me look," she says. Before her, in chains, stands a multi-domed alien around a meter tall, sprouting a number of rod-like arms and with its balls dangling to the floor. Rose reaches out to touch the creature. They both feel the electricity flow between them. There is a passion, a chemistry there that has long gone between her and the Doctor Who. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;An hour later and Rose and the Chumbley, now in a state of relaxed collapsedness, are lying sprawled across the cell floor, the gentle light from van Winkle's torture apparatus playing on their naked bodies. Rose's body hair is newly decorated with Drahvin daisies from Galaxy 4. She is nibbling chips. She has never known such joy. But then their peace is shattered by a pathetic whimper through the cell's closed door. "Rose, 'ave you killed t'feckin' monster yet? Is it safe t'come in?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-3614718639151774284?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/3614718639151774284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/chumbley.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3614718639151774284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3614718639151774284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/chumbley.html' title='Chumbley'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-5377417939484208412</id><published>2009-12-19T21:43:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:43:58.507Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Last of the Time Spanks</title><content type='html'>You've been a very naughty boy said The Doctor Who and The Barsteward bit his bottom lip as if he knew just what to expect. Martha was puzzled. She had spent a year traveling the world, telling The Doctor Who stories (her favourite being Mr. Roberts' I Am A Muslim) to keep everyone happy and restore their faith in The Doctor Who and then this happens. She looked at the two time benders and knew that the whole conflagration, the one that had cost the planet Earth one tenth of it's population, was part of some elaborate game. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Barsteward's eyes swiveled. He first ran this way and then another as his bewildered wife beard gazed on befuddled. The Doctor Who gave chase, although The Barsteward didn't seem to be running very fast and the whole thing looked a bit ...y'know. The Doctor Who vigorously wrestled The Barsteward to the ground and exposed his evil bottom in front of the whole room. "There, you see!" exclaimed The Doctor Who but no one knew what he meant, not even Captain Jack and he even knows about mad things to do with stop-watches. The Doctor Who thrust his hands deep into his pockets and began to rummage. "We'll see what we can do about your mischief young lady" he said and no one was sure who he was talking to. Then, The Doctor Who produced a long spatula and began to soundly thrash the Barsteward, who began emitting fey little gasps of pseudo displeasure. Martha gathered up her family, The Barsteward's wife beard, and Captain Jack and shepherded them out of the room. "REGENERATE! REGENERATE!" roared The Doctor Who (half smiling) as The Barsteward (suppressing a slight smile of his own beneath his little gasping performance) refused. "Defiant to the last eh?" said The Doctor Who producing a table tennis bat and knowing all the while that all he had to do was press the reset button and this transgression would be forgotten by most of the population but not Martha, who would hopefully be inspired to take a hike. Geordi found the incident anomalous but, on consultation with Mr. Cornell, grand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-5377417939484208412?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/5377417939484208412/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/last-of-time-spanks.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5377417939484208412'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/5377417939484208412'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/last-of-time-spanks.html' title='Last of the Time Spanks'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4878465321171105894</id><published>2009-12-19T21:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:42:27.012Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Four'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and The Irate Planet</title><content type='html'>As the ripples of space-time subside, Doctor Who the fourth finds that Pugwash and his chums have disappeared and been replaced by the cartoon-like Mr Men. But Mr Happy, Mr Cheerful and Mr Tickle have been overthrown by the evil Mr Grumpy and Mr Grumble. Mr Grumpy fiddles around with his fobwatch and discovers that he is not really a Mister after all - he is the Master, reborn!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Memo:&lt;/b&gt; &lt;i&gt;OK Archivist Garr, you can handle the big Doctor/Master gay thing now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4878465321171105894?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4878465321171105894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-irate-planet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4878465321171105894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4878465321171105894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-irate-planet.html' title='Doctor Who and The Irate Planet'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8654406452949949351</id><published>2009-12-19T21:40:00.001Z</published><updated>2010-05-30T10:13:12.700+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Four'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and The Pirate Planet</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the fourth has promised to punt Romana up the Grand Canal but Venice is fully booked so he books a cruise of the Mediterranean instead. Too late he finds they have boarded the Black Pig by mistake, a pirate ship under the control of the incompetent Captain Horatio Pugwash. But the Doctor Who soon finds the cruise to be not so bad after all as he carouses with the hard-drinking Pugwash and they laugh and joke about Master Bates, Seaman Staines, John and Gillian, and, best of all, roger the cabin boy. Whose name is Tom. The Doctor Who falls in with a group of gay telepaths called the Bentlads, in a further projection of "the oncoming agenda". But then, just as he is is learning how to sail around the Isle of Wight in preparation for a future adventure with Blackadder, there is a cataclysmic ripple through the space-time continuum and everything changes. the Doctor Who finds he is really on The Irate Planet...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;To be continued.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8654406452949949351?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8654406452949949351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-pirate-planet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8654406452949949351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8654406452949949351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-pirate-planet.html' title='Doctor Who and The Pirate Planet'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-3424588350845610947</id><published>2009-12-19T21:38:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:38:34.178Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Whatever'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Daleksia of the Dyslex</title><content type='html'>Having won &lt;i&gt;3-2-1&lt;/i&gt; (as chronicled earlier) the Daleks set out on a mission to rule the TV contests. They have limited success on &lt;i&gt;Catchphrase &lt;/i&gt;("It's good but it's not right." "Exterminate!") but go on &lt;i&gt;Countdown &lt;/i&gt;and do well in the numbers game with Carol Voord woman but are hopeless on the words and break down in floods of tears. They explain to Richard Whitely that they have always been hopeless with words and go on to spout some stuff about "My spelling is impaired, I cannot write" or some such bollocks. But then a ltitle caoxing rveeals taht it is a deep set porbelm taht the poor Dlakes hvae bttlaed to cnqouer -- dlsyxeia -- and all cderit to them for gtetnig so far dspetie all the epexctattoins of sicoety wcihh fials to reailse taht smoe pepole are haepmred by a fauilre to recnogisie the odrer of lteters. And Doctor Who the whatever puts everything right and then fckus off up the vortex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-3424588350845610947?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/3424588350845610947/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-daleksia-of-dyslex.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3424588350845610947'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3424588350845610947'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-daleksia-of-dyslex.html' title='Doctor Who and the Daleksia of the Dyslex'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-9212038359454748953</id><published>2009-12-19T21:35:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:35:25.198Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Peril of the Dwindling Fish Stocks</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who pops back to Earth to see his old friends at Torchwood and finds that everything has changed. The institute is no more and Gwen has taken up a new position at Codwoorth. They're outside the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, beyond the Ministry of Fisheries and Food, next door to the abandoned branch of Woolworths, in a base called the Tub. Gwen and the team are busy watching activity in the Drift - a strong ocean current just off Cardiff Bay - and she is especially interested in a couple of Spanish trawlers in case they exceed their internationally agreed fishing quotas. Gwen suspects that their cod haul might be just a tad greater than European regulations currently allow. The Doctor Who suggests blowing them out of the water and sending them hurtling into a black hole, but Gwen decides to negotiate with the over-eager Spaniards instead. They apologise for exceeding their quotas a fraction and readily agree to fish for more sustainable fish stocks in the future. Foiled once again in his bloodlust, the Doctor Who wails "There should have been another way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-9212038359454748953?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/9212038359454748953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-peril-of-dwindling-fish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/9212038359454748953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/9212038359454748953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-peril-of-dwindling-fish.html' title='Doctor Who and the Peril of the Dwindling Fish Stocks'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4251070279198165293</id><published>2009-12-19T21:32:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:33:43.542Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Three'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Gay Of The Daleks</title><content type='html'>Sir Reginald Piles (no relation to the &lt;a href="http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/rise-and-fall-of-reginald-wirrn.html"&gt;previously chronicled Reginald Wirrn&lt;/a&gt;) goes to a world conference and triggers events that let the Daleks make a prolonged courtesy visit far in the future that is seen as outstaying their welcome and terribly rude. So terrorists come back from the future and kill Sir Reggie so he doesn't make the conference and so events don't allow the Daleks the opportunity to visit and so the terrorists have no reason to go back in time and so Sir Reggie does go to the conference after all and so triggers events that let the Daleks make a prolonged courtesy visit far in the future that is seen as outstaying their welcome and terribly rude. So terrorists come back from the future and kill Sir Reggie so he doesn't make the conference and so events don't allow the Daleks the opportunity to visit and so the terrorists have no reason to go back in time and so Sir Reggie does go to the conference after all and so triggers events that let the Daleks make a prolonged courtesy visit far in the future that is seen as outstaying their welcome and terribly rude. So terrorists come back from the future and kill Sir Reggie so he doesn't make the conference and so events don't allow the Daleks the opportunity to visit and so the terrorists have no reason to go back in time and so Sir Reggie does go to the conference after all and so triggers events that let the Daleks make a prolonged courtesy visit far in the future that is seen as outstaying their welcome and terribly rude. So terrorists come back from the future and kill Sir Reggie so he doesn't make the conference and so events don't allow the Daleks the opportunity to visit and so the terrorists have no reason to go back in time and so Sir Reggie does go to the conference after all. But the Doctor Who the turd steps in and resets the timelines and Jo feels her heart go a-flutter. No one notices that one of the Daleks has broken ranks and is pursuing a homosexualist agenda that will one day, far in the future, dominate the show's existence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4251070279198165293?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4251070279198165293/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-gay-of-daleks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4251070279198165293'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4251070279198165293'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-gay-of-daleks.html' title='Doctor Who and the Gay Of The Daleks'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8139129340825151857</id><published>2009-12-19T21:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:31:38.321Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Four'/><title type='text'>The Rise and Fall of Reginald Wirrn</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the fourth is still recovering from his latest degeneration when the Tardis crash lands on the space station Satellite Sunshine Desserts. He stumbles out to find that the insectoid workers are busy converting hibernating humans into zombies, but they're not doing it quite right so the Doctor Who shows them how to do it properly. One of the insectoids, Reginald Wirrn, has a middle-age crisis and fantasises about his secretary Peri's breasts but he can't get a stiffie and his boss ET tells him he didn't get where he is today which is clearly nonsense because he is where he is today, silly. Regie Wirrn stages his own suicide, leaving his clothes in the airlock and escaping to the planet Grot but the Doctor Who hunts him down and feeds him to the Zarbi before whisking Harry and Sarah Jane off on another adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8139129340825151857?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8139129340825151857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/rise-and-fall-of-reginald-wirrn.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8139129340825151857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8139129340825151857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/rise-and-fall-of-reginald-wirrn.html' title='The Rise and Fall of Reginald Wirrn'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-3525334891880554054</id><published>2009-12-19T21:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:28:32.626Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor One'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Cave of Numbskulls</title><content type='html'>Crochety the Doctor Who the first whisks Ian and Hanna-Barbara from Slag Heap School off into the vortex. Ian is still skeptical so the silver-haired fiend decides to give him a history lesson. He sets the controls for palaeolithic Earth to meet old palaeos the Flintstones. Fred is just setting off for the baseball game with Barney but stops to break open a few beers with the time-travellers. Fred suddenly realises he has lost the secret of fire and life won't be worth living if Wilma finds out so the Doctor Who lends him some matches. The Doctor Who finds Barney a bore and briefly contemplates smashing his brains out with a rock, asking "have I the right?" Barbara and Betty take Susan, John, Gillian and Bamm-Bamm down to the drive-in movie. Ian puts Dino out for the night but the beast nips through the window and slams the Tardis door, shutting Ian out and leaving him screaming "Barrrrrba-ra! Barrrrrrba-rrrrraaaaa!!!!!" in a gripping cliffhanger. The closing theme declares "We'll have a gay old time" in an early indication of the direction the new series would take.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-3525334891880554054?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/3525334891880554054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-cave-of-numbskulls.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3525334891880554054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3525334891880554054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-cave-of-numbskulls.html' title='Doctor Who and the Cave of Numbskulls'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-1039572294400426570</id><published>2009-12-19T21:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:25:58.711Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Three'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor One'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Trouble on the Brig</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the third gets an emergency call from UNIT. The Brigadier has started behaving oddly, cross-dressing and shaving his legs. Now he has stolen a time bracelet because it was soooo his colour and disappeared into the space-time continuum. The Doctor Who seeks the help of an earlier, albeit crochety version of himself and discovers that the Brigadier has set up a new colony of transvestites on planet Kembel, wrapped himself in tight Spandex and reinvented himself as Brent Nylon. The Doctor Who the crochety orders the Brig back to his proper place in space and time but he has a tantrum and cries: "Shan't, shan't, shan't and shan't." The Doctor Who sets his old friends the Daleks onto the colony but they just stay to discover their feminine side. Katarina decides she'll have a go but gets sucked through a rip in the reality field into an Edwardian London townhouse in the early 20th century where Mr Hudson and Mrs Bridges give her the "John and Gillian" treatment. Racked with guilt, Brent tears off his vile outfit, returns to Earth and resumes his former, military duties.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-1039572294400426570?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/1039572294400426570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-trouble-on-brig.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1039572294400426570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1039572294400426570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-trouble-on-brig.html' title='Doctor Who and the Trouble on the Brig'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-7016067129761547654</id><published>2009-12-19T21:23:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:23:17.898Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who Wants To Be a Gillianaire</title><content type='html'>Having bid farewell for a second time to the crabby aliens, the Doctor Who the tenth suddenly comes over all serious like. He sits Martha down and tells her of his home world Gallifrey. Martha tilts her head, with a loving smile, and stares fascinated at the man she loves. The Doctor Who describes his planet's fields of deep red grass, capped with snow. Martha glances at her watch. He recalls how Gallifrey's second sun would rise in the south and the mountains would shine. Martha raises her eyebrows and then stifles a yawn. And the silver-leafed trees look like a forest on fire in the mornings, blah blah blah. The Doctor Who gently wakes Martha to say that there is something else. "What now?" she sighs. Turns out he hasn't been entirely honest and he's not quite the last of the Time Lords. For just past the clothes racks in the Tardis and before you get to the remains of the fetid pile of poo, there are the private quarters of John and Gillian, who he keeps under house arrest - for their own safety mind. Martha is a little shocked and wonders why he is telling her now and the Doctor Who reveals that their next destination is a planet in the Tarrantula Nebula in the constellation of Castersugaribus where they love quizzes and contests and he thought he might raffle Gillian off. Martha thinks it is a brilliant idea and they rush off into time and space once more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-7016067129761547654?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/7016067129761547654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-wants-to-be-gillianaire.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7016067129761547654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/7016067129761547654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-wants-to-be-gillianaire.html' title='Doctor Who Wants To Be a Gillianaire'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2992054579733847767</id><published>2009-12-19T21:05:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:05:09.990Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Eleven'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Moan Base</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the hair gel slips his key into the Yale lock and gently turns it. The Tardis door opens with barely a sound and he tiptoes in, slowly closing it behind him with the slightest click. But, glancing up, he realises in an instant that his efforts to creep in unnoticed have been in vain. For there, standing by the stairs in her dressing gown is his mother. "And what time do you call this?" she demands. "Dunno," comes the mumbled reply, adding with a touch of insolence, "Why, what time do you call it?" "And where've you been until this time?" asks Mrs Who. "Nowhere," mumbles the Doctor Who. "Don't give me that," says Mrs Who. "What have you been doing?" "Nuffink," says the Time Lad, his head sinking ever lower, clearly indicating a guilty conscience. "I want the truth now," insists Mrs Who. "You're not too old for me to put you over my knee." And the Doctor Who says he has just been hanging around the bus shelter with some of the other kids off the estate, and OK maybe they did ring a few doorbells and then run off but it was all Davros's idea anyway. And anyway they never done any TWOCing, cos he's never done that since he run off with that Type 40 in the first place, innit. "Well get yourself to bed," says Mrs Who. "We'll just have to see what your father says in the morning." And the Doctor Who says "I hate you," "I wish you were dead," and "I didn't ask to be born anyway," and slinks off to his room to text his mates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2992054579733847767?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2992054579733847767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-moan-base.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2992054579733847767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2992054579733847767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-moan-base.html' title='Doctor Who and the Moan Base'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-1683358319796631222</id><published>2009-12-19T21:00:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-28T22:18:57.445Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Lite'/><title type='text'>Turlough's Luck - Spin Off</title><content type='html'>Turlough is awoken by your man off Department S at 10:00 am. He has a hangover, and is briskly reminded of his appointment with the Trion Department of Social Services to sign on for the dole. The bloke off Department S finds Turlough's arab cloak type thing covered in vomit, and Turlough explains that Roskal was "taken ill" at the dance party last night. The bloke off Department S leaves tea and some money on the kitchen table, which is sufficient motivation for Turlough to go downstairs. The Department S guy reminds Turlough that he expects repayment, plus he has to pay to have his arab cloak type thing cleaned, and what's left has to last him until his next dole cheque. "Gorden Bennet" decries Turlough unhappily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, as Turlough heads out to Roskal's place, we see the council estate in which he lives, a low-rise warren of red-brick buildings in which identical part-glass front doors open onto a shared concrete walkway at the foot of a majestic volcano. As Turlough leaves, Roskal comes around the corner. Roskal bangs on the Turlough's front door, but no one is home. Turlough goes to Roskal's flat, in a gray-beige tower block, but he's not there. So, Turlough goes to Hippo's house. Hippo is just getting up. (How Hippo arrived on Trion is not explained. This detail clashes with the previously broadcast spin-off series 'Good Man Hippo' but there was an attempt to address the inconsistency in the Big Finish audio drama 'Hippo's Destination: The Stars')&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Turlough and Hippo bemoan their situation over breakfast - unemployed and all but unemployable, ill-prepared by a substandard education at the hands of an embittered and quick to anger Brigadier for life on Trion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Roskal arrives at Hippo's house and suggests that they get a move on, and the three go off together to sign on. En route, Turlough and Roskal spar over who should pay for cleaning Turlough's arab cloak type thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the Trion dole office, Turlough has missed his signing-on time, and the dole office worker at the counter steadfastly refuses to open his box to pay out, saying that Turlough must see a supervisor. And, his gyro might be delayed too if the supervisor decides he's entitled to it. Irritated, Turlough loudly requests that the office worker "turn it in" but it is still the eighties and the lady is not for turning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you enjoyed this adventure why not try the following (thankfully they're a bit more upper-class in their japery):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good Man Hippo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo Does it Again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo's Holiday Mystery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo and the Pirates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo's Quest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo's Temptation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo Pays for Love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Passion of the Hippo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo's Big Mistake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo and the Extremely Powerful Antibiotics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo's Diagnosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo's Fury.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo's Acceptance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo's Last Hurrah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Geordie's Grand Anomaly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hippo has Risen from the Grave. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Garr&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-1683358319796631222?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/1683358319796631222/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/turloughs-luck-spin-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1683358319796631222'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1683358319796631222'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/turloughs-luck-spin-off.html' title='Turlough&apos;s Luck - Spin Off'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-4458358298350553395</id><published>2009-12-19T21:00:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T21:16:49.047Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Ten'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Army of Dads</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;"This is the story of how I died...laughing"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Doctor Who number ten takes Rose home to see her mum. Jackie is all happy like cos her Dad has come back from the grave to haunt her. But the Doctor Who whips out the naffest BBC prop ever, his cardboard 3D glasses, and spots that the "Dad" is really Sergeant Wilson off of Dad's Army who has fallen through time and the smarmy git can't believe his luck!! The Doctor Who realises that the rest of the Walmington-on-Sea Home Guard is lined up and ready to march through the rift in the space-time continuum thanks to the continued interference of new ministry for aliens and fisheries Codwoorth (see DWF passim). The platoon marches through the rift though Pike worries that his mum won't like him staying out too long and Godfrey is concerned what Dolly will make of it. Suddenly a void ship lands, and Dalek U-boat commander Sec and two chums jump out. Corporal Jones cries "Don't Panic" and - momentarily forgetting the agenda - "They don't like it up 'em". They demand "Vot is your name" and Captain Mainwaring says "Don't tell him, Pike!" The Doctor Who regrets leaving Oneforthedads behind on Gallifrey now that the Dads have finally arrived!!! Duhhh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Next week:&lt;/b&gt; 'We're Doomed' Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-4458358298350553395?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/4458358298350553395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-army-of-dads.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4458358298350553395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/4458358298350553395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-army-of-dads.html' title='Doctor Who and the Army of Dads'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2260309331527167543</id><published>2009-12-19T20:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T20:55:42.709Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Nine'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Rose</title><content type='html'>Rose ran from the store, freed from the loveless clutches of those ugly automatons. And there he was again, his arms folded and leaning on that strange blue box. He stared straight into Rose's eyes, with a perfect, fearless, impersonal look. He made her feel shy. "Do yer wanna come with me, as 'eck as like?" he asked. "With me and whippets?" Confusion filled Rose's mind. Yes, she was tied to Mickey, confined as he was to that infernal wheelchair, yet she had no wish to remain a &lt;i&gt;demi-vierge&lt;/i&gt;, trapped like a cage-bird. Rose wanted to cry out, yes, yes, yes! But she bit her lip and stayed silent. Then the Doctor Who the ninth asked again: "Do yer wanna come with me, bitch?" And Rose heard herself reply: "Whatever."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* * *&lt;br /&gt;The flickering light from the console played over their naked bodies as they lay sprawled across the Tardis floor. The Doctor Who was coiling Rose's body hair around the daisies that they had picked in the garden. "Eee but th'art deep to fook," he told her. "Yer little koont, as 'eck as like." She giggled a shy girl's giggle and watched him slowly subside. And then she asked him: "Can we 'ave some chips?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2260309331527167543?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2260309331527167543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-rose.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2260309331527167543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2260309331527167543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-rose.html' title='Doctor Who and the Rose'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-1791031098531275691</id><published>2009-12-19T20:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T20:30:20.645Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Three'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and Till Death To The Daleks Us Do Part</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who number three has only just got to Exillon when all the lights go out. Slumped in his armchair, he turns on Sarah Jane: "What've you done now, yer silly moo?" "I expect the meter has run out," his long-suffering companion replies, barely looking up from her knitting, "cos you go and spend all your money down the pub." "Shut up, you old moo!" says the Doctor Who. John and Gillian, sprawled on the sofa, seem delighted at the power cut though John is a bit concerned they might miss the match on TV. "If they paid the miners a proper wage, we wouldn't have power cuts," he argues. John starts to argue for the merits of a people's republic but this inflames the Doctor Who. "Shut up and listen, you Scouse git," he snarls, "you might learn something." "Oh will you stop arguing," wails Gillian. The Doctor Who gets all overcome and begins to gush over Her Majesty. But then there is a knock at the door. Their neighbours the Daleks - or Da'kies, as the Doctor Who calls them - say their power has failed too and can they borrow a cup of sugar. "Bleedin' scroungers," moans the Doctor Who. "We should send 'em all back to Skaro." The Daleks point out they were just leaving anyway. Then their spaceship blows up, the lights come back on and the Doctor Who and John go down the boozer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-1791031098531275691?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/1791031098531275691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-till-death-to-daleks-us.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1791031098531275691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1791031098531275691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-till-death-to-daleks-us.html' title='Doctor Who and Till Death To The Daleks Us Do Part'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-3175591303257006015</id><published>2009-12-19T20:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T20:27:26.977Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Seven'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Remembering of the Daleks</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the seventh suddenly realises after 25 years - duhhhh! - that he has left some valuable "effects" in Susan's locker at Slag Heap School. He takes Ace back there but she runs into Miss Ewell who orders her back to Class 5C immediately. The Doctor Who joins her, pretending to be a supply teacher called John Smith and sits next to teacher 'Privet' Hedges but Ace spots that he has reverted to his pervy ways and is trying to look up the skirt and see the pink clematis of Sharon, who is really 25 due to some timey-wimey thing, just like all the other pupils. Duffy gets all upset at the Doctor Who for ogling his bird. Abbot offers to do him in but Maureen has gone all gooey and falls for the Doctor Who. Dennis doesn't understand but then Miss Ewell comes in and she goes all gooey herself like over headmaster Mr Cromwell. Ian and Barbara are nowhere to be seen!!! Suddenly everyone notices a Dalek tapping his feet over by the door. Has anyone remembered their courtesy visit? Duhhhh! The Doctor Who apologises but finds that caretaker Norman Potter is causing problems in the playground by telling the Daleks they can't park there. OK he was in the Desert Rats, but duhhhh! Finally the Daleks leave in a huff and the Doctor Who blows them up, despite the fact that his old friend Davros is on their spaceship. Omega had a hand in it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-3175591303257006015?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/3175591303257006015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-remembering-of-daleks.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3175591303257006015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/3175591303257006015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-remembering-of-daleks.html' title='Doctor Who and the Remembering of the Daleks'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-8507570114607681908</id><published>2009-12-19T20:23:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T20:24:37.945Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor One'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Bottles of Hastings</title><content type='html'>Crochety the Doctor Who the first rebukes Steven and Vicki for their constant partying which have left the Tardis cocktail cabinet dry. He steers a course for the Kent coast to join a booze cruise so they can stock up on the cheap by benefitting from tax-free prices in international waters! John and Gillian, still traumatised from &lt;a href="http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-carryonites.html"&gt;the Doctor Who's fiddling while Rome burned,&lt;/a&gt; see their chance to escape while the silver-haired fiend is on his day trip. Unfortunately, and life can be oh so cruel, they slip away from the Tardis only to fall straight into the clutches of the Doctor Who's evil cousin the Meddling Monk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-8507570114607681908?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/8507570114607681908/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-bottles-of-hastings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8507570114607681908'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/8507570114607681908'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-bottles-of-hastings.html' title='Doctor Who and the Bottles of Hastings'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-49448812484399747</id><published>2009-12-19T20:20:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T20:21:05.893Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Five'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Four'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Log Police</title><content type='html'>Dippy stewardess Tegan mistakes the Tardis for a portaloo on her way to the airport and stumbles inside. Unfortunately her visit coincides with a spot check by interplanetary sanitary squad the Log Police. The Doctor Who &lt;i&gt;(4)&lt;/i&gt; protests that in all his 900 years since 1963, no one has ever asked to avail themselves of bathroom facilities. The toilet taskforce flash their search warrant and, just beyond John and Gillian's prison, make a horrifying discovery. Round the back and out of the way where they hoped no one would notice, companions Susan, Ian, Barbara, Vicki, Steven, Katarina, Doodoos, Polly, Ben, Jamie, Victoria, Zoe, Liz, Jo, Sarah Jane, Harry, Leela, Romana, Adric and Nyssa the pisser have left their logs in a vast fetid pile of waste. The Log Police offer to say no more about it this time just so long as the Doctor Who pops straight down to B&amp;Q and installs some proper toilets and so he does. Tegan, Adric, Nyssa and her dad the Master happily avail themselves of the new facilities. But they can't shake off the feeling that they are being watched. The Master chases a wraith-like peeping tom onto the gantry of a nearby radio telescope and sends him hurtling to the ground. The companions gather neatly round and rip off the voyeur's disguise. "So he was the Doctor Who all the time," says Adric. Racked once more with shame, the Doctor Who is forced to degenerate into new Doctor Who &lt;i&gt;(5)&lt;/i&gt; who manages a wan smile. Then, bidding the Master a fond farewell, they set off for a well-deserved holiday in Castrovalva.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-49448812484399747?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/49448812484399747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-log-police.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/49448812484399747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/49448812484399747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-log-police.html' title='Doctor Who and the Log Police'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-2083565926212949804</id><published>2009-12-19T20:15:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T20:18:06.658Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Five'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the Black Orchid</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who the fifth takes Tegan, Nyssa, Aldi, Lidl and Adric to see one of England's famous stately homes. Tegan is like, yawn, must we, and the Doctor Who is like yes we must, you might learn something, so there. But then the Tardis jumps several time tracks and plunges them way back in time in the Twenties. Stumbling into the daylight, the Tardis crowd play a bit of cricket, arrange a fancy dress party and solve a few murders but the Doctor Who gets impatient waiting for the alien monsters. "Where's the fecking monsters, then?" he demands of Lord Cranleigh. The noble lord offers a black orchid but a blow from the Doctor Who's hand sends it flying. "They promised me monsters and aliens," he rages. "There's always feckin' monsters and aliens. Who do you think I am, the Doctor Who the feckin' first?" Cranleigh replies that he's heard there might be a giant wasp at Agatha Christie's place down the road but the Doctor Who is having none of it and breaks down in tears. Nyssa tries to comfort him, telling him to forget the black orchid and she might show him her pink clematis. Reinvigorated and beaming, the Doctor Who follows Nyssa back to the Tardis while Tegan stands fuming, hands on her hips, and plotting revenge on her love rival.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Additional information from Archivist Garr: &lt;/b&gt;Meanwhile, Adric raids the drinks cabinet and then staggers out into the courtyard and pukes into the fountain. This makes a deformed bloke really angry and he goes nuts (in a kind of distasteful way). However, the deformed bloke gets distracted and and demands to see Nyssa's clematis because he's heard it's the image of his ex's clematis but Nyssa tells him to forget it and Adric pukes on his shoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-2083565926212949804?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/2083565926212949804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-black-orchid.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2083565926212949804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/2083565926212949804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-black-orchid.html' title='Doctor Who and the Black Orchid'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2946197331240230502.post-1682553278169814453</id><published>2009-12-19T19:19:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-12-19T19:20:10.804Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Doctor Four'/><title type='text'>Doctor Who and the (C)Rap Planet Innit</title><content type='html'>The Doctor Who &lt;i&gt;(4)&lt;/i&gt; arrives on the planet Rap where the Tardis's automatic translation circuits are put under enormous strain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; I travel da universe through time and space&lt;br /&gt;People's always sayin' I ain't never got the same face&lt;br /&gt;But I is always savin da human race&lt;br /&gt;Cos I is the Doctor*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got dem Chumblies and Clangermen beat&lt;br /&gt;Even my own Time Lord mates is just dead meat&lt;br /&gt;But now I gotta welcome the Trods' invasion fleet&lt;br /&gt;Cos I is the Doctor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ambassador:&lt;/b&gt; Is you lookin at my pint?&lt;br /&gt;Is you lookin at my pint?&lt;br /&gt;Is you lookin at my pint?&lt;br /&gt;Cos if you is, you better not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;Doctor Who:&lt;/b&gt; Now don't worry bro, don't get all demonic&lt;br /&gt;Cos I is the Doctor Who and I is iconic&lt;br /&gt;Just pour me a screwdriver, but make sure it's sonic!&lt;br /&gt;Cos I is the Doctor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;* Clumsy shorthand for Doctor Who introduced by poncy the Doctor Who the third.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;Archivist: Suthers&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2946197331240230502-1682553278169814453?l=thedoctorretold.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/feeds/1682553278169814453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-crap-planet-innit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1682553278169814453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2946197331240230502/posts/default/1682553278169814453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thedoctorretold.blogspot.com/2009/12/doctor-who-and-crap-planet-innit.html' title='Doctor Who and the (C)Rap Planet Innit'/><author><name>Paul Sutherland</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='30' height='32' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/4625/1824/1600/IMG_1493cropforblog.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
