And now for something lighter: the fourth Doctor serial “The Android Invasion”, subjected to the MST3K treatment. 😉 I wrote this, oh, probably in 1999, under my maiden name. “The Android Invasion” is one of my childhood favorite serials, but it’s really wonderfully cheesy as well — straight-up B-movie serial tropes all over the place. So it’s perfect MST3K fodder! And as Doctor Who was originally broadcast in chunks, one week at a time, that’s how this will go too. 😉
EDIT: Formatting should be much improved now!
[MST3K theme] [Door sequence: 6...5...4...3...2...*] [SoL] [There are two heavy cables sitting on the counter. Beside them is a small, crumpled, white paper bag of unknown content. MIKE NELSON is humming softly to himself as he bustles around behind the counter. While he's busy, CROW T ROBOT enters from the left.] CROW: Hey, Mike, what's up? I see Cambot's busy recording, but we shouldn't be getting Movie Sign for at least two more days. What gives? MIKE: <cheerful> Oh, I just thought we might kick back and enjoy something cheesy but good for a change. [TOM SERVO wanders in from the right. He's got a book in his hands. If we look very closely, we can see that the book is "The Left-Handed Hummingbird," by Kate Orman. He's obviously only caught the very end of the exchange. MIKE disappears completely behind the counter, engrossed in his search.] TOM: Did I hear "cheesy but good?" CROW: Yeah. TOM: Are we having a cheese and wine party? CROW: Nah. I think the experiments are finally having an effect on Mike. He's reverting to his "wisconsin mode." TOM: Ah. [Finally, MIKE stands up. He's got a ludicrous grin on his face. He's holding a Doctor Who scarf.] MIKE: Found it! [The 'bots are unimpressed.] TOM: Huh. CROW: Are you missing some medication or something, Mike? [MIKE is completely unperturbed. He starts winding the scarf around his neck over the next line.] MIKE: <happy> Gypsy managed to hack a link to the BBC Gold satellite. And for a nice, relaxing break from the usual Roger Corman and Bert I Gordon funfests, I decided we'd grab us some *quality* cheese. CROW: Oh no.... MIKE: Oh yes! It's "Doctor Who" time! Once I connect these cables together, we'll have ourselves a half-hour of wobbly sets, goofy monster suits, and overdramatic acting! TOM: Hey, that doesn't sound half bad! [MIKE picks up the paper bag.] MIKE: Jellybaby, anyone? CROW: <perks up> Hey, I'll have one! [MIKE holds the bag low so Crow can stick his beak into it.] MIKE: There ya go. TOM: So, when does this fun and excitement start? MIKE: <puts the bag in his pocket and picks up the cables> Its starts as soon as I put these two cables together. [He plugs them in. There is an appropriately cheesy sound effect as some offscreen equipment powers up. After a moment, the movie sign lights begin to flash.] CROW: Oh no, we've got Doctor Who sign! [We zoom into the door sequence.] [*...2...3...4...5...6] [Theater. All enter and take their seats.] TOM: All right, bring on the cheese! >[Slit-scan corridor effect starts. Cue theme.] MIKE: Singalong! ALL: <singing> Dumba-da-dum dumba-da-dum Dumba-da-dum, da-dumba-da-dum TOM: <descant> Wa-aaaa-aaaaaah, aaaa-aa-aa-aaaaah! > [police box] > ___#___ > ========= > ||~|||~|| > ||_|||_|| > | | | > | | | > | | | > | | | > ========= MIKE: Police in a box? is that anything like Prince Albert in a can? >[Tom Baker's face.] CROW: What, no ASCII rendering? I feel cheated. >[diamond logo] > > .''. > ..''''''.. > ..'O C..T O'.. > |D ..'' ''.. R| > \~\ /~/|~||~|.'~'. > <\ '' / | .. || : |> > '\/\/ |_||_|'._.' > '. _ _ .' > '.'. .'.' > '.''.' > '' > > THE ANDROID INVASION > by Terry Nation CROW: Terry Nation...oh, they share a border with Alien Nation, right? Heh, 'cuz his name's "nation" and...it's a... nation.... MIKE: We get it, Crow. > Part One TOM: Aw, no omnibus format? MIKE: Nope. TOM: But I though the BBC Gold feed was in omnibus, not in episodic format. MIKE: You'll have to ask Gypsy about that. > Ext forest, day. We follow a UNIT soldier as he staggers clumsily > through the brush. CROW: Better than staggering through the comb, I suppose. > His right arm twitches and he stares blankly > ahead into space, crashing through the forest at random. TOM: <soldier> Can't...make sense of...plot...synopsis.... MIKE: Oh, he's been watching "Trial of a Time Lord," huh? CROW: Actually, he never made it past the write-up in Radio Times. > *** > > The TARDIS materializes in a clearing in the same forest. The Doctor > steps out with a bottle of ginger beer. As he examines his surroundings, > he takes a sip. TOM: Hey, a little early in the day, dontcha think, Doc? MIKE: It's non-alcoholic. TOM: Oh, and how do *you* know what intoxicates a Time Lord? > Sarah Jane Smith calls from inside the TARDIS. > > Sarah: (os) Well, come on, make your mind up. Has the TARDIS brought > us home or not? CROW: I'll take a wild stab and guess "not." > Doctor: Possibly. TOM: <Doctor> I mean, possibly we'll all turn into ice-skating mongooses and dance the Bolero. Anything's possible. > Sarah emerges from the TARDIS. She is dressed in a pink pantsuit > with a white scarf and a sailor collar. She looks peeved at the > Doctor, but not overly so. > > Sarah: What do you mean, possibly? MIKE: Well, it depends on what the meaning of the word "possibly" is. > Doctor: Well, the coordinates were set for your time, but the linear > calculator, well....pfff! Ginger pop? <he offers her a sip> CROW: Hey hey, Doc, you shouldn't be pushin' that stuff! > Sarah: Can't stand the stuff, thanks all the same. MIKE: Just say 'no' to ginger pop. > So we could be > anytime, anywhere? TOM: <Doctor> Yep. That's about the size of it. CROW: So what's so unusual about this? They almost never know where they are or how the TARDIS got them there. > Doctor: <he starts to walk 'round the TARDIS, examining its exterior> > I really must get the TARDIS seen to. She's way overdue for her > 500-year service. <wanders off a bit> > Sarah: Well, at least we're on Earth. CROW: Um, didn't she just get done saying they could be "anytime, anywhere"? > I mean, just taste that air! MIKE: <Homer Simpson> Mmmmm, air! > <inhales> I love that smell, just after a rain shower. > Doctor: <calling> Yes. It does have the peculiar earthy smell. TOM: <Doctor> Just like a plate of mushed-up worms. CROW: Ew. > Which is odd when you look at the ground. > Sarah: Hmm? > Doctor: Bone dry. Can't have been any rain here for more than a > week. <he takes an instrument out of his pocket, which begins to > beep> Now I wonder what could be causing that. MIKE: The BBC Radiophonics Workshop, perhaps? > Sarah: What? > Doctor: Some enormous release of energy. > Sarah: We are on Earth, aren't we? CROW: <Doctor> No, I think we're everwhere and nowhere. > Doctor: Well, unless someone's started exporting acorns. <grabs a > branch of the oak tree above him and pulls it down into view> Oak > trees don't grow anywhere else in the Galaxy. > Sarah: Oh. Bet we're miles away from UNIT HQ though. TOM: <Sarah> So there. > So, what are > we going to do? > Doctor: <points in different directions with each word> Eenie, > meenie, minie....mo? ALL: Catch a tiger by the toe. > <sets off> Watch the brambles. > Sarah: <stumbles into a bramble> Ow. <Everybody chuckles> MIKE: Yes, it's Sarah Jane "slow reaction time" Smith! > <They walk off through the woods.> > > Sarah: Listen, what's so special about "eenie meenie minie mo?" TOM: <Doctor> It's cute. The kids'll love it. And if the kids love it, it'll keep Auntie Beeb from creating Teletubbies for another couple of decades. CROW: Good. > <A branch whaps her in the face and she laughs good- naturedly. > Behind them, we can see the UNIT soldier, obscured in the > undergrowth, standing stock still.> > > Doctor: Nothing. It could just as easily be "Fum fee fo... uh, fi?" MIKE: <Doctor> I smell the blood of an English...uh, knee? > <as they walk by, the UNIT soldier becomes plainly visible and there > is a dramatic chord> TOM: DA-DA-DUM!!!! CROW: <Soldier> Must...not...act.... > > Sarah: <laughs> "Fee fi fo fum." MIKE: <falsetto, laughing> You loveable old moron, you. > <As our heros move out of earshot, the UNIT soldier starts walking > again, still twitching spasmodically. TOM: <chuckles> Hey look, it's Torgo's Welsh uncle. > Then we're back with the Doctor > and Sarah, walking through the woods.> > > Sarah: Hang on, I thought I saw someone. > Doctor: Let's hope they're not strangers here themselves. > > <Four men in white jumpsuits and wearing what appear to be space > helmets stride into view and stop facing our heros. CROW: <cheery> Hi. We're strangers here ourselves. > The Doctor and Sarah stop as well.> > > Doctor: Hello there! > Sarah: <nervous> No wait, Doctor. I don't like the look of them. MIKE: <Sarah, overdramatic> They look......eeeeevil! > Doctor: What? <to the men in white> Please excuse me. Could you be > very kind and tell me where we are? > > <Instead of answering, the figures raise their right arms in > pantomime "gun" position -- just like little kids playing cowboys and > indians without any toy guns. CROW: <little kid voice> Bang. You're dead. > Their outstretched fingers actually do > function as guns and they open fire on the Doctor and Sarah, who start > running. The gun SFX is, shall we say, less than convincing. <ALL laugh.> CROW: Heh, the regular foley guy must've been out sick that day. MIKE: Sorry, Crow, but that's pretty much the usual gun noise on "Doctor Who." CROW: Really? Wow.... MIKE: I said it was cheesy. > The white guys pursue our heros.> > > Doctor: I thought it was odd, didn't you think it was odd? I > remember I said to the Duke of Malbury once.... TOM: So, they're in mortal danger and the Doctor is namedropping. Sheesh. > Sarah: <exasperated> Oh, Doctor! > > <Suddenly and without warning, Sarah stumbles in the foreground. MIKE: <laughs> They run through a dense forest without stumbling once, and as soon as they get to a clearing, Sarah trips and falls. CROW: Well, they didn't want to sacrifice safety for realism. > This cuts to a shot where she rolls down a gentle incline which > turns into a cliff somehow. She grabs onto a branch to stop her > descent.> > > Doctor: Sarah! Doctor: Don't look down! > > <Sarah looks down. TOM: Folks, give a big hand for Sarah Jane Smith, journalist, most popular "Doctor Who" companion, and complete gullible idiot! > After a struggle, the Doctor pulls Sarah back up. > They are now on the edge of what looks like a disused gravel pit.> MIKE: Oh, it's definitely not Earth, then. If it's a gravel pit, it's gotta be an alien world. TOM: Y'mean like the place they found Eldrad in "Hand of Fear?" MIKE: Good point. > Sarah: Thanks. > Doctor: My pleasure. Couldn't leave you hanging around in a place > like this. ALL: Waah, waah, waah, waaaaaaah.... > <The glare she gives the Doctor is cut short as she sees something > approaching. The Doctor looks -- it's the UNIT soldier, twitching > very badly.> CROW: <soldier> I'm CoRpOrAl ToRgO. i TaKe CaRe Of ThE pAtRoL dUtIeS wHiLe ThE mAsTeR iS aWaY. > Doctor: Stop, man. Stop! MIKE: <singin> ...in the naaaame of love! > Sarah: No! No!!!! > > <The soldier doesn't stop but keeps lurching on towards the cliff > edge. He goes over and falls down to come to a crashing stop > amongst the rocks at the bottom. TOM: <Joker> The fall won't kill you, but the stop will be simply smashing! > The Doctor and Sarah peer over > the edge and see his motionless body lying draped over a boulder. CROW: He falls while spasming, yet manages to land neatly draped over a boulder, in the most dramatic position possible. <shakes his head> > They climb down the gentle incline to find the body at the bottom of > the cliff. The Doctor finds no pulse.> > > Doctor: Must've died instantly. > Sarah: <points to a badge> Look. He's from UNIT! TOM: How's *that* for a plot twist. > <The Doctor pulls out the man's wallet.> MIKE: He's not mostly dead, he's all dead. CROW: Time to go through his clothes and look for loose change! > Doctor: Look at this. <he dumps the wallet's contents -- several > bright, shiny coins -- into Sarah's hands> > Sarah: They're all new! > Doctor: Freshly minted. No scratches, tarnish... > Sarah: And all dated the same year! TOM: So he was an anal retentive coin collector. So what? > <They sift through the coins, examining each one.> > > Doctor: What ares the odd against finding a pocket full of coins that > are all dated the same? MIKE: Depends on where you find the pocket, I guess. > Sarah: I don't understand it. > Doctor: No. Nor do I...yet. CROW: And when I do, so help me, I'll.... > <He looks up and spots a large, roughly coffin-shaped object not far > away. The lid looks more like the top of a clam shell, and it's very > battered. There are four holes in one end and the whole thing is > about 7-8 feet long. There's a tire leaning against it. MIKE: <chuckles> Oh, looks like the clamshell coffin is "tired." TOM: Don't make me hurt you, Mike. > Our heroes > investigate.> > > Sarah: Oh, come on, Doctor! It's just a load of old junk. > Doctor: No, no, no, wait. I've seen something like this before. My > memory's getting terrible. CROW: Oh, just ask Sarah to give you a good crack on the noggin. Clears it up every time. > Three hundred years ago, I'd've recognized > this like a shot. > > <There is a gunshot. The Doctor ducks> TOM: <Doctor> A shot like that, in fact. > Sarah: Doctor! > Doctor: <pulls Sarah down behind the coffin-shaped thing> Keep down! > > <There are more gunshots. They sound the same as the ones fired by > the pseudo-astronaut-types. After a while, it dies down. The Doctor > pokes his head out to investigate. There are two of the white suited > men. CROW: Well, that would be why the shots sounded so familiar. > They fire as soon as they see the Doctor's head. He ducks back.> > > Doctor: Something seems to have annoyed them again. Come on. MIKE: Oh, the TARDIS must've landed on *their* side of the line. TOM: <whiny> Mooooommmmy, they landed on ooouuuur side of the liiiiine! They're annoooooying me! > <The Doctor and Sarah make a break for it while the white jumpsuits > keep shooting at them. CROW: Heh, awfully talented jumpsuits there.... TOM: Yeah, how come your jumpsuit doesn't do stuff like that, Mike? MIKE: Well.... > They get back to the forest and run along its > edge for a while before disappearing into the woods. The jumpsuits are > fooled and think they've kept running and soon realize they've lost > them, at which point they give up.> MIKE: <jumpsuit> We didn't find them in thirty seconds, so I suppose we can give up now. > *** > > <The Doctor and Sarah jog into a typical southern English town.> CROW: Oh look, it's West Wallaby Street. TOM: <Wallace> It's the wrong trousers, Gromit! The wrong trousers! And they've gone wrong! > Doctor: Well, well! Well, well. CROW: Well, well, well.... MIKE: Definitely not Christmas. TOM: Huh? MIKE: There are four wells. If it were Christmas, there'd be no well. > Sarah: Devesham! > Doctor: Hm? TOM: Mike, if you pun like that again, so help me.... > <They look around the village square. It is deserted.> > > Sarah: Doctor, we're at Devesham! > Doctor: Do you know it? CROW: <Sarah> No, I just knew its name by instinct. Of course I know it, you ninnyhammer! > Sarah: I came here on a story about two years ago. > Doctor: Oh. It's a bit quiet. ALL: Too, too quiet. > Sarah: Yes... > > <They look around a little more. The Doctor climbs up on the steps > of a small monument that stands in the middle of the square.> > > Doctor: <loudly> Anyone about? Anyone? TOM: <Ben Stein> Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? > <There is no response.> > > Doctor: No one about. Let's try the pub. CROW: <Doctor> It's the logical place to start the looting. > <They run down to the pub together.> > > *** > > <Int. pub. The Doctor and Sarah enter to find the pub completely > deserted, but with everything in order.> MIKE: Huh. So Devesham has an anal retentive innkeeper -- even when deserting the town, he tidies up the pub first. > Doctor: Odd. <bangs on bar> Innkeeper? > Sarah: Hello? Anyone about? > Doctor: What's this pub called? TOM: <falsetto> The Marie Celeste. Does that mean anything to you? > Sarah: Uh, "Fleur de lis," wasn't it? > Doctor: Hm? > Sarah: <enunciating> Fleur, de, lis. MIKE: <falsetto> I took French in high school. > Doctor: Marie Celeste, more like it. CROW: Whoa. Good call, Tom. > <they look around, seriously spooked> TOM: <Twilight Zone theme> Doo-doo-doo-doo, doo-doo-doo-doo.... > Sarah: It's weird. A whole village full of people can't just > disappear. > Doctor: <opens cash register> Here it is again. > Sarah: What? CROW: <Doctor> Free money. > Doctor: <takes out coins, examines them> Freshly minted money, all > the same year. Sarah? TOM: Freshly minted? Did the UK switch from the pound to the Mentos? MIKE: Mentos -- so your checking or savings account will always have that minty freshness! CROW: Heh, maybe they're foreshadowing the next design for the Euro. > Sarah: Hm? > Doctor: What was that story you came here on? > Sarah: There was a bit of a brouhaha up at the space defense station. MIKE: <Sarah> And the brouhaha wasn't being properly fed. RSPCA threw a fit. > It's about a mile from here. > Doctor: Is it? > > <Sarah nods. The Doctor crosses from the bar to a table near the > dartboard. He examines one of the darts sitting on the table over > the next few lines.> > > Doctor: If we've landed in a prohibited area, then those people who > shot at us were possibly guards. TOM: Wow, what a stunning deduction! People who try to keep you out of an area just might be guarding the area! Cool! > Sarah: Trespassers are prosecuted in England, not killed. Anyway, > they weren't dressed like guards. > Doctor: <speculating> Protective clothing? some kind of > radioactivity? Remember, I detected an energy source. MIKE: And we all know how extremely rare energy sources are in 20th Century England, a short distance from a major research facility. > Soldier who > went over the cliff, possibly affected by it. TOM: The Doctor must've been affected by it too; he's starting to talk like Rorshach from "Watchmen." CROW: <Rorshach> "Found dog in alley today. Tire tread on stomach." > Sarah: Radiation sickness! > Doctor: Something like that. > Sarah: And this place, the village? > Doctor: Evacuated. MIKE: Any minute now, the villagers will pop out and yell "boo!" > Sarah: <looking around at the pub, all still set up for business> > Then it must've been done in a hurry. > Doctor: If some dangerous substance leaked, there would be a hurry. > Sarah: <frustrated> Oh, that's great! And we've been walking around > right in the middle of it...like a couple of narners. CROW: Huh? They've been walking around impersonating G'Kar? > Doctor: <smiles tolerantly> It's only a speculation. MIKE: <Doctor> There's a good chance we're going to die in horrible agony, don't worry. > Sarah: It's a nasty one. <realization -- one thing doesn't add up> > What about the money? > Doctor: Contamination precaution. Money changes hands. In a place > like this, it might be necesary to bring in clean currency every couple of > months. TOM: So the town's main business is money laundering? Wow.... > Sarah: <looks out the window> Doctor! the village isn't deserted > anymore. > > <They look out the window -- the guards are back, walking through the > square. Sarah's eyes widen in surprise.> > > Sarah: No...it can't be. It can't be! CROW: <Shatner> It just...can't BE!!! > Doctor: It's impossible! TOM: Remember, Doc, nothing is impossible -- only unexplained. > <The guards are accompanied by a perfectly normal looking UNIT > soldier -- the same one the Doctor and Sarah had seen fall to his > death only a short while before.> CROW: Whoa.... MIKE: Guess he was only mostly dead after all. > Sarah: But he was dead! I saw him! TOM: <soldier, British accent> I got better! > <Unnerved, Sarah shudders, accidentally knocking over a pint glass, > which shatters on the floor. She draws in her breath sharply, startled. > Outside, the guards pause. They heard the noise. MIKE: Pretty sharp hearing those guards have to hear a pint glass shattering inside a building with all the doors and windows closed. > They start moving > towards the door to investigate. Inside, Sarah turns to beat a hasty > departure, but the Doctor grabs her arm and restrains her.> > > Sarah: They heard me! > Doctor: <hissing> Wait! MIKE: <Doctor> They didn't say "Simon Says!" > <A small truck -- the sort that gets used for hayrides in the winter TOM: Hayrides! Whee! > -- is coming down the street. This attracts the guards' attention. CROW: Pretty distractable guards -- they must have Attention Deficit Disorder. MIKE: <guards> While searching for the intruders, we heard a noise inside the pub, the single most obvious place for the intruders to be. But now that the truck is here, we'll forget all about that. > The > back is filled with ordinary people, all sitting perfectly rock solid. > There's even a minister, a butcher, and the innkeeper sitting there. As > our heros watch, the oddly stiff people disembark from the truck and > disperse. Sarah recognizes one of them.> > > Sarah: <whispering to the Doctor> Man in the tweed jacket. That's > Mr Morgan. Landlord. TOM: <Doctor> Oh great. He'll be pissed when he sees we cleaned out the cash register. > Doctor: <whispering back> Come. <pulls her away from the window and > into a closet> CROW: Bucka-chicka-wow.... > <Outisde, many of the people head into the pub. Once inside, they > take up positions at tables, at the bar, by the dartboard, etc. They > remain totally motionless. MIKE: <monotone> We are Anonymous English Person of Borg. Resistance is futile. TOM: <monotone> Exposition is irrelevant. You will assimilated. > Our heroes watch from behind the door. > After a while, the clock strikes twelve. When it's done, they all > immediately begin to move around, order drinks, talk, etc just as if > they'd always been doing that and had never been standing totally > motionless. Behind the back door, which isn't a closet after all, the > Doctor and Sarah turn to face each other, shocked.> > > Doctor: Extraordinary. > Sarah: What's the matter with them? CROW: Apparently nothing, now that you waited for them to get all better on their own, you ninny. > Doctor: I haven't the faintest idea, but I intend to find out. > Sarah: How? MIKE: <Doctor> Well, I've got this Magic 8-Ball in my pocket.... > Doctor: Space defense station. I could contact UNIT from there. You > stay here and keep an eye on things. > Sarah: Eh? TOM: <Sarah> Wouldn't that hurt? MIKE: Hey, weren't you just complaining about my puns? > Doctor: You'll be all right. > Sarah: I've heard that before! > Doctor: <stage whisper> You think you can find your way back to the > TARDIS? > Sarah: <normal voice> Of course I can. CROW: <Sarah, offended> Geez, what'd ya think, that I'd get lost? Thanks for the vote of confidence, you big jerk. > Doctor: <hands Sarah the TARDIS key> If anything goes wrong, meet me > there. > Sarah: And what if.... MIKE: ...the Cubs win the pennant? TOM: Hell will freeze over and the resulting cold snap will freeze the evil white spacesuit dudes. > <But the Doctor leaves before she can finish her sentence. Sarah > looks annoyed. CROW: <Sarah, sarcastic> Thanks a lot, jerk. > She puts the key in her pocket and turns back to the > closed door to the pub. CROW: <Sarah> Jerk. MIKE: That's enough. > She opens the door just a crack to peer > through. The supposedly dead soldier sees the door open a crack and > walks over. TOM: <soldier> Hmm, this door appears to be open a crack. > He pulls the door open suddenly, and Sarah falls through > with a gasp. The villagers stare emotionlessly at her in total silence. MIKE: <nervous falsetto laugh> CROW: Oops. > She attempts to recover her cool and walks in.> > > Sarah: Ahem. <brightly> Afternoon! Well, just about, anyway. <walks > to the bar and the innkeeper standing behind> Hallo! Mr Morgan, > isn't it? TOM: <Morgan -- robotic monotone> Isn't-it-a-bit-early-for- a-drink,-miss? > <no response -- he just keeps staring straight ahead> Well, > you remember me, don't you? Sarah Jane Smith? I came here on a > story. I stayed here, about two years ago. MIKE: <Sarah> Hello, anybody home in there? Geez.... > <She stares hopefully at Mr Morgan, the pleasant smile of a seasoned > journalist in a difficult situation on her face. Morgan does not > react, but continues to stare past her into space. TOM: <Morgan, still robotic monotone> You've-got-a-lot-of -dandruff-there,-you-might-want-to-take-care-of-that-later. > Sarah looks > around at the other villagers, who are all staring silently. > Unnerved, she turns back to Morgan.> > > Sarah: Well, somebody say *something*! ALL: SOMETHING!!! > UNIT Soldier: <coming up behind her> Who sent you? > Sarah: <affronted> What do you mean, who sent me? > UNIT Soldier: How did you get here? > Sarah: <smiles> I walked. Look, perhaps.... > UNIT Soldier: What are you doing here? MIKE: <Sarah> Being interrogated by you, apparently. > Sarah: <to Morgan> Do you allow all your customers to be grilled like > this? > UNIT Soldier: We don't have strangers here. CROW: <Mexican> Strangers? Strangers? We don't need no stinking strangers! > Sarah: Now that's ridiculous! > Morgan: <finally speaking> Wait.... She may be part of the test. > Sarah: Test? What test? MIKE: The dreaded linear algebra exam wrecks its nightmare upon the quiet town of Devesham. > UNIT Soldier: She doesn't know. > Sarah: Look, what's going on here? > Morgan: <to Sarah> I think you'd better go, Miss. TOM: <Sarah> Go to Mississippi? But why? > Sarah: Why? > Morgan: It might be best. > Sarah: <earnestly> Look, if...if there's some sort of trouble, perhaps > I could help. MIKE: <Sarah> I'm a journalist; maybe I can give you a favorable review in the travel section. Help your tourism industry. CROW: They all bust up laughing, Sarah laughs along, and soon they all become the best of friends.... > <Pause. There is no answer.> Right. Well, I intend to > find out, anyway. <She heads for the door. The soldier moves to stop > her.> And I'm sure you shouldn't be drinking so soon after breaking > your neck. TOM: Right. You should wait at *least* one hour. > <Sarah bolts for the door. This time, noone moves to stop her. > There is a closeup of the UNIT soldier's blank, emotionless face. > CUT TO the exterior of the pub, where Sarah hurries out the door. > The flatbed truck that had brought the mindless, staring villagers > in is still sitting there, guarded by one of the white- jumpsuited- > guards. MIKE: <chuckles> Spacemen wearing white jumpsuits, living in a small town and firing upon any stranger that might come to visit.... Either England has been invaded by white trash, or the KKK has developed a space program. > His back is to the camera, but we can see that the faceplate > of his helmet is up. Sarah creeps by behind him. He turns, slowly, > and we see that inside his mask his face is nothing but diodes and > capacitors. BOTS: <snigger> TOM: Not much computing power in those things, I see. CROW: Nope. That's why they have such a short attention span. > He is a robot. Frightened, Sarah bolts into the nearby > woods.> MIKE: <not at all afraid> Aaah, the white-jumpsuited-guys have scary capacitors and resistors, aah. > *** > > <Exterior Space Defense Centre. It's a spectacularily cheezy model > shot, with a dish antenna going 'round, CSO-superimposed onto an > actual building. CROW: Oh, man...there is so much wrong with that shot I don't know where to begin. MIKE: How about "is this a chromakey I see before me, a cheap and unconvincing alternative to matte paintings towards my hand?" CROW: And what's with the dish antenna spinning around? Sh'ya, right! Like they're *really* going to contact a satellite *that* way! > The Doctor is walking through the shrubbery, MIKE: <screechy British voice> A shrubbery! 'BOTS: <dramatic chord> > approaching the building. He sees no one as he walks across the > Centre's courtyard and approaches the front door. There is a faint, > electronic grating sound, sorta like crickets on dope. TOM: Let's hear it for the BBC Radiophonics Workshop! > He's worried; > the place should be crawling with guards. CROW: Well, it was, but then they called Terminix. > Certainly he should've > been challenged by now. TOM: Y'mean like this? <french> I chal-lange yeux to a duel-eh! > He walks through the doors, which slide open > automatically with a woosh. Inside, he looks around and > spots a soldier, standing motionless at attention by one wall. He > walks up to the soldier.> > > Doctor: Hello? <no response> MIKE: <Doctor> Hello? Operator! Operator! > Can you tell me where I can find the > C.O.? The commanding officer? > > <The soldier still doesn't answer, but the actor blinks about > half-way, then catches himself, remembering that he's supposed to be > frozen motionless. TOM: <actor> Oh, poopie. > The Doctor politely ignores this and turns away > from the unresponsive soldier> > > Doctor: I'll tell you what. I won't bother you. CROW: Heh, the guard must be on loan from the Queen's Guard. Must've been demoted from Buckingham Palace duty to BBC Loaner Guard when he sneezed as the queen walked by. > <The Doctor goes down the hallway, checking in doorways. He sees no > one else at this point, and the halls are dark.> ALL: Spoo-oo-oo-oo-ooky! > <Cut back to the guard at the entrance. Still expressionless, he > slowly turns to look in the direction the Doctor left.....> MIKE: Hey, he's the guy that took my buddy's wallet! > *** > > <Exterior forest. Sarah is jogging towards the TARDIS. She reaches > it, puts her key in the lock, and, before she can open the TARDIS, she > notices something out of the corner of her eye and turns. CROW: And there, on the handle, was a hook. > Sitting in > the clearing is a black pod, about 7 feet long and 3 feet tall. > There's a seam down its length, as if it's supposed to open like a walnut. TOM: Why not an almond, or a pecan, or even a peanut? > There are four holes at one end. MIKE: Wow. Imagine the size of the squirrels that left *that* nut behind! > Curious, Sarah walks over to check it > out. She leaves the key in the lock. As she examines the pod, the TARDIS > dematerializes.> CROW: <Sarah> D'oh!!! > Sarah: <alarmed> Doctor? Don't go! I'm still here! > > <The TARDIS vanishes altogether> > > Sarah: <soft, sounding betrayed> Don't leave me.... TOM: Okay, let me get this straight. We know the Doctor isn't in the TARDIS, since he's at the Space Defense Centre right now. So he can't be piloting it. And Sarah has the only other key, so nobody else could be operating it.... That means it's set to dematerialize if a key is placed in the lock. MIKE: Pretty much. TOM: Isn't that kind of a stupid feature? I mean, it's like walking up to your car, sticking your key in the lock, and then watching it drive off without you, KITT-style! > <Cut to a closeup of the pod's seam, right behind Sarah's knee. It > opens, but she's so distraught she doesn't notice. The Doctor has left > her.> > > Sarah: Can't have gone.... CROW: <falsetto> He promised he'd finish this season with me.... > <A hand reaches out from the pod and grabs her leg. She shouts, > startled, and pulls away. As she moves off to a safe distance, the > pod opens up all the way, like a coffin, and we can see a man in a black > suit lying there. MIKE: Okay. So Dracula has a sport-utility coffin now. > He has no expression on his face. Sarah looks back at > the man and sees that he's not getting up. Concerned, she approaches and > kneels down at his side.> TOM: <falsetto> Peace be with you, my child. > Sarah: <kindly> Can I help you? CROW: <man, Hungarian> Yesz, I vant to drink your blahd. > <The man's arm moves slowly at first, then suddenly both his hands > come up and lock around Sarah's throat. She struggles, then frees > herself. She hightails it out of there as the man slowly sits up.> TOM: <singing, British> Bravely bold Sarah Jane, she bravely ran away. Bravely ran away, away, oh brave Sarah Jane! ALL: <join in> When danger reared its ugly head She bravely turned her tail and fled Yes brave Sarah Jane turned about And gallantly she chickened out.... <trail off> > *** > > <Int. Space Defense Centre. Close-up on a man with an eyepatch, > played by Milton Johns. TOM: Hey, it's Castellan Kelner. CROW: Who? MIKE: Oh, he'll play a corrupt Time Lord in a few seasons. > A distorted voice comes over an intercom > system and the man clearly reacts. He's definitely got emotion.> TOM: <man> Oh, drat, it's the bloody intercom again... > Styggron: <os> Crayford? Crayford! > > <The man with the eyepatch -- named Guy Crayford, as it happens -- > rushes through a door into his office to answer the intercom. He sits > down at his desk. He's wearing cuban heels and bellbottom jeans.> ALL: <snigger loudly> CROW: Hey Mike, is this anything like how you dressed in the 70s? MIKE: Well, minus the eyepatch and the heels, yeah, pretty much. > Styggron: <os> Crayford, I say! > Crayford: <answering> Yes, Styggron? > Styggron: <os, obviously ticked> I ordered all units to recharge > stations. The order is not being observed. TOM: <Styggron> The units must be sent to bed without their supper, Crayford. > Crayford: <alarmed> In what way, Styggron? > Styggron: <os> We have detected movement within the complex. A unit > may have gone random. Check and report! > Crayford: <getting up> Yes, Styggron, immediately, Stryggron. MIKE: <Crayford, muttering> Stupid Styggron, always ordering me around.... Why, I oughtta.... > <He leaves the office, alert for movement. Suddenly, he seems to > notice something coming, because he quickly ducks into the office > next to his. CROW: Annnnnd....attack! TOM: Huh? CROW: The line just came to me. Strange.... I think it's from a movie about Doctor Z or somebody, but I'm not sure.... MIKE: Weird. CROW: Maybe it's a future echo. > A moment later, we see the Doctor through the glass > panels in the doors at the end of the hallway. The Doctor comes > through those doors, making no effort at stealth. TOM: Ah, yes. The "act as if you own the place" technique. Always good for walking around a top secret military installation with no escort. > He stops at the > door where Crayford is hiding, but before he opens the door he notices > Crayford's office and reads the sign on it. The sign says "Brigadier > Lethbridge-Stewart." The Doctor grins and sweeps into the office.> MIKE: The Briagdier! ALL: Yay!!! > Doctor: <jovial> Alistair? <his face falls> Alistair? > > <He's somewhat down at finding nobody at home, but he goes and looks > through the papers on the desk anyway. The first paper he looks at > is obviously not helpful and he drops it back to the desk. TOM: After walking loudly and obviously around a top secret military installation, the next step is to rifle randomly through the C.O.'s papers. I guarantee you'll have no trouble finding someone to help you once you've done that. > There's a > map as well, which he starts unfolding. Onc ehe's got it halfway open, > Crayford comes in from the adjoining office, a gun in his hand.> > > Crayford: Keep your hands where I can see them! CROW: But they already...are.... > <The Doctor already has his hands apart, holding the map, so he just > raises them a bit.> > > Doctor: <cheerful> Those are the first friendly words I've heard > since I got here. MIKE: Boy, if that counts as friendly.... CROW: Well, the Doctor never talked to Morgan and the other villagers. He hasn't heard one word, friendly or otherwise. MIKE: What about Sarah? CROW: Good point. > Crayford: <unimpressed by the Doctor's mood> Yes, I dare say. TOM: <haughty> We are not amused. > <crosses to stand behind the desk, keeping the gun on the Doctor all > the time> And just how did you get here, incidentally? > Doctor: Oh, I dropped in, you know. I do from time to time. CROW: 'Cuz he's a Time Lord. Ha ha ha. > Crayford: I can easily get the truth from you! > Doctor: <calmly> You're getting it. > > <Annoyed, Crayford snatches the map away from the Doctor.> MIKE: <Crayford> All right, newspaper, TALK! > Doctor: <grinning hugely> Who are you? > Crayford: I'm asking the questions, and I have the gun! TOM: <Crayford> And stop *smiling* at me! > Doctor: <serious> I just wondered. You're in someone else's office. > It says "Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart" on the door. > Crayford: <surprise> You know the Brigadier? > Doctor: Mmm-hmm. I'm his unpaid scientific advisor. MIKE: <Doctor> And the free tea and cookies just ain't worth it anymore, lemme tell ya. > Crayford: <smiling, relieved, but still holding the gun> Oh yes! > Yes, I see. I see, you're the Doctor. CROW: <surprised> So even obscure UNIT personel know about the Doctor? MIKE: Only when it's convenient to the plot. > Doctor: Yes. > Crayford: Yes, I've heard of you. > Doctor: Good. TOM: <Doctor> But enough about me.... > Who are you? > Crayford: I'm the senior defense astronaut, Guy Crayford. > Doctor: Well, how do you do! > > <The Doctor goes to shake Crayford's hand, but Crayford immediately > becomes hostile again, gesturing with the gun.> CROW: Geez, he's pretty paranoid about shaking hands, isn't he? MIKE: He's a regular Howard Hughes. > > Crayford: Get your hands up, Doctor, thank you! You could be an > imposter, couldn't you? > Doctor: You know, look, I've got a suggestion, my arms are beginning > to ache. Why not call Lethbridge-Stewart and get him to identify me? TOM: <Crayford> Sorry, no can do -- can't have that quick a resolution to the cheap suspense device. > Crayford: <sharp> Lethbridge-Stewart is in Geneva. Colonel Faraday > is in command. CROW: Colonel Faraday? What about Commander Ampere? > <Crayford presses a button on the desk intercom. It bleeps once.> > > Doctor: If you're calling the butler, I'm very partial to tea and > muffins. > Crayford: You're going to have to stay in detention until your > identity's been verified. > Doctor: Oh, please, no detention. MIKE: <Doctor> All the bigger kids will pick on me there! > No detention.... No detention, > you see.... > > <As he babbles, he ducks down, grabs Crayford's arm, shoves it > roughly away to spoil the aim, and leaps out of the room, keeping > very low. He looks both ways down the hallway. One way, an > emotionless UNIT guard has arrived. He doesn't look friendly. TOM: Of course not -- that's because he's emotionless, you silly narrator! MIKE: I wonder who transcribed this for BBC Gold. CROW: Apparently it was Kirstin Beall. [pause] ALL: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!! > As the Doctor runs the other way, Crayford dashes out of the office > and fires once, but misses. The Doctor rounds a corner and finds a > ladder. He begins climbing. Back at the office, the UNIT guard seems > unsure what to do, so Crayford shouts at him.> > > Crayford: Get after him, man! MIKE: <Crayford> He stole my pic-a-nic baskets, Boo-boo! > <The man dashes off. He spots the Doctor just as he closes the hatch > at the top of the ladder and climbs after him. The Doctor is now on > the roof. An alarm is ringing. TOM: Well, whooping, actually. CROW: Whooping? TOM: Standard "Doctor Who" klaxon. > Two UNIT guards start firing at the > Doctor from the parking lot below, but they don't have a clear shot -- > they miss. Sarah suddenly shows at the complex as well, unsure of > what's going on. CROW: <laughs> Apparently Sarah was so scared by the creepy guy in a clamshell that she broke the sound barrier getting here. MIKE: Never underestimate the power of a "Doctor Who" companion's fear. > She can see the roof. The guard from the hallway > also arrives at the roof, and we see that it's the guy who fell off > the cliff. TOM: Geez, he's everywhere all of a sudden! CROW: Maybe there's a super-entity watching over all of this who teleports the characters so they can arrive in time for their next scene. > To escape, the Doctor leaps off the roof edge and lands on > a lower edge. Sarah is watching, and she gasps. He lands safely, but > one of the white jump-suited android spacemen appears, pointing its > finger at the Doctor meaningfully. MIKE: The android's mommy never taught him that it's not polite to point. 'BOTS: <sniffle> MIKE: What? TOM: The android had a mommy.... CROW: We didn't have a mommy.... 'BOTS: <bawl their little hearts out> MIKE: <puts an arm around each> There, there. > Another hand appears from the left > of the camera, pointing at the Doctor. They've got him surrounded.> TOM: He's being taken prisoner by Thing! > Doctor: Is that finger loaded? CROW: <android> Pull my finger and find out. > <Realizing that he's lost, the Doctor nods and allows the two > androids to lead him away. Sarah sees them go and follows them; > apparently she was on this lower roof.> TOM: Thanks for sharing that little tidbit, movie. Think you could've told us where she was a little *earlier* maybe? > *** > > <Int. Space Defense Centre. The jumpsuited androids show the Doctor > into a hallway that is featureless except for the door they came > through, a telephone on the wall, and an intercom thingy. One of the > androids steps on the Doctor's scarf and it releases with a > BOINGOINGOINGOING!!! [Everybody cracks up laughing.] MIKE: Y'know, the sad part is, I have no idea if that was intentional. > As they disappear off camera, Sarah follows them > into the hallway, being careful to close the door quietly behind her. TOM: Slowly she closed the door, step by step, inch by inch.... > The androids lock the Doctor into a holding cell. There is no > complicated locking mechanism; just three bolts slid back manually > from the outside. CROW: Actually, considering it's the Doctor in there, they're probably better off locking him with bolts than anything else -- at least he can't pick this lock. > Once the jumpsuits have gone, Sarah creeps up to > the cell. We get a great closeup of her straw platform shoes with > sparkly beads -- very 70s. TOM: Mike, did people *ever* wear things like this? MIKE: Oh, my yes. > She checks to make sure the coast is clear, > then whispers into the cell.> > > Sarah: <sotto voce> Doctor? Doctor, can you hear me? CROW: <Doctor, sotto voce> No. Speak up. > <The Doctor's face appears behind the grating in the door. He looks > delighted to see her.> > > Doctor: Sarah? What are you doing here? > Sarah: Rescuing *you*, actually. For a change! TOM: Oh, she wants the change they swiped from the soldier back at the beginning. > <As she starts undoing the bolts, we see the intercom thingy at the > end of the hall swing suddenly inwards -- it's actually a hidden > peephole CROW: Hell of a big peephole. > for someone on the other side of it. A very ugly alien > face peers through it, watching.> MIKE: Now that's a serious case for Noxema, right there. > <Cue music, cut to credits.> > > Doctor Who > TOM BAKER CROW: Baking Toms since 1972. > Sarah Jane Smith > ELISABETH SLADEN > > Guy Crayford > MILTON JOHNS TOM: Hey, didn't he invent Keynesian economics? MIKE: No, you're thinking of John Maynard Keynes. > Morgan > PETER WELCH CROW: <Smucker's voice> With a name like Welch's, you know it's good. TOM: Huh? > Coporal Adams > MAX FAULKNER MIKE: Brother of Max Headroom. CROW: Especially with all that twitching he was doing. > Styggron > MARTIN FRIEND TOM: Oh Martin, you're such a friend! > Grierson > DAVE CARTER > > Written by > TERRY NATION MIKE: Terry Nation. Bringing you the best in unresolved plot lines, violated continuity, and gratuitous references to Nazi Germany since 1963! > Production Unit Manager > JANET RADENKOVIC > > Production Assistant > MARION McDOUGALL > > Title Music by > RON GRAINER & > BBC RADIOPHONIC > WORKSHOP TOM: They did a nice job. CROW: Really? I thought it was pretty grainy myself. > Title Sequence > BERNARD LODGE MIKE: Call the Bernard Lodge for all your lodging needs the next time you visit Devesham. > Incidental Music by > DUDLEY SIMPSON > > Special Sound > DICK MILLS > > Costume Designer > BARBARA LANE TOM: <singing> Barbara Lane is in my ears and in my eyes, There beneath the blue suburban skies.... > Make-up > SYLVIA THORNTON > > Visual Effects Designer > LEN HUTTON > > Studio Lighting > DUNCAN BROWN MIKE: Didja know that "Duncan" means "brown warrior" in Gaelic? CROW: Really? MIKE: Really. TOM: So that says, "Brown warrior brown," then? > Studio Sound > ALAN MACHIN > > Film Cameraman > LEN NEWSON CROW: All the Newson that's fit to Len. > Film Sound > DOUG MAWSON > > Film Editor > MIKE STOFFER > > Script Editor > ROBERT HOLMES MIKE: <British> Elementary, my dear Watson. > Designer > PHILIP LINDLEY > > Producer > PHILIP HINCHCLIFFE > > Directed by > BARRY LETTS TOM: Should we Barry this? CROW: Oh, Letts. [ALL stand.] > BBC COLOUR > > (C)BBC 1976 [Everybody exits the theater.] [*...2...3...4...5...6] [SoL] [Everybody is standing behind the counter. MIKE is taking off the Dr Who scarf.] TOM: <to camera> Well, it looks like that's it for this week, folks. MIKE: Yep. 25 minute episodes, and cliffhangers in between. CROW: If you can call them cliffhangers -- they're more like pauses in the action with suitably dramatic musical stings. MIKE: Join us next week, folks, as we watch Episode Two of "The Android Invasion." TOM: <dramatic> Will the Doctor escape his holding cell? What happened to the TARDIS? And is the ugly alien going to get some lotion for its dry skin? CROW: Find out next week, on.... ALL: ...Mystery Doctor Who Theater 3000! | Mystery Science Theater 3000 and its | situations and characters are the property \ | / of Best Brains, Inc. "Doctor Who" is the \ | / property of BBC Worldwide. This transcript \|/ was made by Kirstin Beall and should not be ------o------ assumed to be 100% accurate. The dialog /|\ and situations were created by the late / | \ Terry Nation. No disrespect is intended, / | \ nor should any be inferred. It's all fun | and games, until someone gets their eye | poked out. So play nice, kiddies. Tune in next week for Part Two! > one of the white jump-suited android spacemen appears, > pointing its finger at the Doctor meaningfully. Another > hand appears from the left of the camera, pointing at the > Doctor. They've got him surrounded.> > > Doctor: Is that finger loaded?