WHOLESOME TALES

Pettytyrant101 wrote:I demand Admin put a stop to it now- propaganda is clearly the duristiction of the Forumshire State News!

While your praise of State News warms my heart, I'm afraid that I've been burned too many times by the award-winning Daily Purist to try to infringe on the free press of Forumshire again just now.

....a certain vintage??????? How very dare you.

Mrs Figg wrote:....a certain vintage??????? How very dare you.

A very fine vintage --- 1894, I think, according to your Facebook photo, if I remember the year correctly. I'm sure it was meant as a compliment. The Bugle would never wish to hurt your feelings, Mrs Figg. I assume you have them - as I found out recently that it's something young girls and women have, but not men - well, not me anyhow. (I learn something new every day).

I think you are a sensitive petal really, but you hide it under layers of hairy arsed billy goatyness.

layers of hairy arsed billy goatyness.- Mrs Figg

Is that not just a description of the common Ozhobbit?

I'm no common hairy arsed goat! Hey! You two, take it ALL back -- or else..

THE TALE OF THE THREE SILLY GOATS BUFF

Once upon a time, in land Far Far Away, there lived a bridge called Joe. Now, under Joe, lived a horrifying troll, not suitable to be spoken of in the presence of anyone under 18 (20 in Wales). Yes, he was that scary, and not only scary, but horrendously disgustingly naughty - which Im sure will shock you, especially as Joe and it's troll lived in our Respectable Forumshire (though in Far Far Away; that is, far away from Hobbiton but much nearer Scotshobbiton).

Every day Joe lay there with his head on one bank of the railway line and his feet on the other, while the troll, who I will call Eldo, so as to both give him a name and also suggest a personality, would sit by a little fire roasting little children on a spit. (I told you he was ghastly, Ally, and I did try to warn you off! Probably have nightmares now. Well, I shan't take the blame for that!) (Mind you, they were children from the local Council Estate and so their drug addicted Mothers could never missed them, having trouble even remembering if they had ever even given birth to them or not. Though, some of the children were from Surrey, the children of 4WD driving Ladies with minks and golden jewellery and a far better quality of drugs). (You must remember, of course, that this is an old old story, set way back before anyone had even heard of Political Correctness or had any what we might call "Finer Feelings" - or any "Feelings" at all, actually, this being a Man's kind of story, not suitable to impressionable young Welsh women - or women generally - except Mrs Figg-types, of course). (My goodness, this paragraph is getting longer and longer by the minute, and there seems no end of it). (How many brackets can you put in one paragaraph, I wonder?)(And no matter how long the paragraph gets, we seem to be getting no nearer to telling the story). (I better get on with it then, what?)(Oh and it wasn't a railway line, it was a deep, swift flowing stream, positively unswimmable). (The railway I was thinking of was the one in The Railway Children, and I never read that, though I did read a review once).

Now in a field there were three goats buff. They did not have names, but I shall give them ones to make it easier to identify who I'm talking about. One was Odogoato, one Figgarogoato, and was Pettygoato. We'll cal them Odo, Figg and Petty for short.

All the life long day these three goats ate grass, and at the time of this tale they were doing so in the buff, as they had been shorn only that morning. So the three were eating the grass, trying not to look at each others naughty bits, as they were Respectble goats. This was difficult for Odo, for he was the most heterosexual goat you could ever meet, and Figg was a lady goat with wondeful angles, curves, grooves and various other feminine dimensions. It was even harder for Figg, as she admired Odo's special properties which were extroadinarily magnificenct. Petty had the easiest task, as he was only interested in squirrels. He also was a very unattractice goat who no one gladly looked at, except in horror, though it's said he had a beautiful benign kind heart that made up for his exterior repulsiveness. This, of course, wasn't in the least true, for he was a Scotsgoat and we all know what that implies. Oh yes, Figg and Petty were quite silly. Strangely, all three have come down through legend as the Three Silly Goats Buff - when only two of them were. Silly that is - they were all buff that morning, that part's true.

Anyhow, the three Silly Goats Buff were munching away on some lovely Skattykatzenfjordian Blue Grass that the Farmer had sown that spring, when Petty mewed: "Ock zat uh ooglie goat lik mee sholda bee thinkin ov za udda side ov za railway bridge."

"Oh how anachronistic of you!" Figg exclaimed. "A railway bridge in Forumshire, and in 1894, or thereabouts? Preposterous!" (Trains were invented in 1897 Forumshire time, in case you did not know that. It's why Figg indicated that there was an anachronism involved).

"No, it's a bridge over a deep, swift running stream," was Odo's wise reponse to Petty's silliness. "Remember how the Narrator changed that bit from a railway to a stream."

(You might say the Narrator should in fact take some of the blame for this confusion, but I'm not going to).

"Ock the noo, Ide foogooten!" Petty averred.

"Right you are, dear Odo," Figg answered, allowing her doe-like eyes to rest lovingly on the fantastic hairy specimen before her (Odo). "Änd am I right to say the bridge is called 'Joe', dear Odogoat?"

"Indeed you're right," Odo smiled (casting a lusty glimse on Figg's almost-as-attractive-as-his-own-though-with-girly-bits-and-no-boy-bits form). "Joes's Dad is London Bridge (the 2nd), and hs Mother's from Glasdgow, a three spanner in stone, did you know that? ..."

"Edinburgh, achooly," Petty interjected in that know-it-all pompous manner he was well known for.

"Be that as it may, Joe's now here in Far Far Away, and that's the point," Odo said severely.

There was no love lost between him and Petty, who was as Scotgoatish as you can get, and more some. Odo, of course, was an Ozgoat, with all that entails, very special, in all sorts of ways. Odo knew that he should not have let Petty get under his skin on the subject of bridges, but there was a principle involve, not that anyone nowadays can remember what the principle was, but Odo was a believer in upholding principles nevertheless.

Petty grumbled, "Anyhoo, I would lik ta see ow za gras iz onza other side."

Now you might be thinking that Petty's accent sounds more Kimberlayan than it does Scotgoatish, and you're probably right, but it's too late to bother with that, as the story is about to get exciting you see, and we shouldn't get all tied up with explanations and elucidations and theories on philology and such like. You don't want that intelligent kind of thing, you want action.

"Oh Petty, you can't go over Joe."

"Why canna eye?"

"Because to go over Joe is to go over Eldo."

"Ime not afraid of any wee troll, lassie."

"But he will launch himself upon the timber paving of Joe and snatch you down under Joe, and under Joe you'll be spit roasted."

"Onna spit?"

"Of one kind or another. There are two methods trolls utilize, as you'll no doubt be aware. One method for cooking children, and one they utilize on goats and other furry animals, the latter method requiring two trolls."

"Iz zar moreun one troll then?"

"Meybee..."

Petty quavered for a moment, but when he saw that Odo had seen his quaverings, he gritted his goatish teeth and mewed, "I shall goo, un doen try an stop me."

So off trotted the exceedingly ridiculous and ugly goat toward Joe. When he reached Joe, Joe said, in a voice of finest timbre, "Oh repuslively ugly goat, you must not cross over my timber paving, for there are two trolls now under me - hanging out in the hope of spit roasting a goat, of any sex."

"Ock, I shall goo, for I am nutt afraid of death."

"Nor should you be," said Joe.

And so off Petty trotted. In a trice he was under the bridge, grabbed from the front by Eldo, and from the back by Ringo Troll - just over from Skattykatzenfjord. He was spit roasted in no time at all, and shortly after he trotted delicately back to the field, abashed and slightly pleased.

"Aha! I knew you would never maker it," Odo cried in triumph.

"No, but there are better things than grass to be a dreaming of," Petty said, somewhat ambiguously.

"I must go and try too," Figg said and gaily trotted off (gaily in the old fashioned sense, as she was a heterosexual goat).

"Please go back," Joe cried, for he was a kind hearted bridge and could see that Figg was an innoncent goat however sexually attractive she was (even to a bridge). "Eldo and his boyfriend are lurking under me, just waiting to sup (after a fashion) on female flesh... or male if they can get it."

"I fear not," Figg bravely asserted, and lifting her head like a Grand Dame, she trotted over Joe.

When she got back to the field with Petty and Odo, she looked shocked, appalled, shaken and somewhat wistful.

"I'm going again..." she said, and trotted off again, but quicker than before.

"I can't sit back and allow her to try to reach that grass with all that Adventure's inherent dangers," Odo cried, and he trotted off in a very masculine way after her. (He trotted so fast he raised a sweat which was very masculine too).

When he reached Joe, Figg was nowhere to be seen. Cautiously, Odo trotted out onto the timber pavings of Joe. Down below Joe he could hear sighs and moans and giggles, and Figg's inarticulate voice (like she was talking with her mouth full) saying something or other like 'not being hard enough', or 'going' hard enough, and something about eels, which really made no sense.

"I'm too late. They've got her," Odo weeped (in the way all manly goats weep) and he then said, "Well, it's up to me to reach that grass on the other side. And so, exceedingly bravely, he trotted into the next field, which was sown with Skattykatzenfjodian Blue Grass as it turned out.

I thought that I should be offended at the initial description of Eldo the Troll, but after reaching the end of the story I'm not sure if I should be offended, frightened, aroused, or flattered.

I do wish that Anonymous Author would use more creativity when choosing names for the characters in his stories. Folk will probably think I'm a goat now!

A very attractive goat to be sure, though, Odo.

DR WHO AND THE TROLLS

Episode 1

The blue Police Box materialized with a funny noise that startled the ducks in the backyard of the esteemable Mr Odo Banks, esquire, in Rushock Bog, near Needlehole. Odo was giving his au pair, Francine, a leg up to dust the chandelier in his enormous Parlour while his two wives were out shopping down the market.

"Oh dear!" he expostulated, dropping the poor French girl into a tub of jelly which he had moved only that morning from the kitchen (she wasn't hurt in the fall, just be-jellied). "What's that horrid racket?" Odo expostulated further, half his mind thinking he should go out and investigate the yard, the other half wondering if he might make some worthy (or unworthy) use of his jelly tub.

Just then, he heard a door close and a male voice say, "Ock Dooktor! Where the ninnynanny have we come to and about?."

"Calm yourself, Petty - and straighten that mini-kilt, you're distressing the ducks."

"Oooh sorry, Dooktor. I didn't have the Scotsshekels to buy a whole kilt. I'm saving up for the rest of it."

"Well, whatever the case, we must enquire at this door - which appears to lead into a hill! - and see if the inhabitant can inform us where we are."

By this time, Odo had flung open the door of his enormously impressive and expensive Ozhobbit hole and had laid eyes on the two peculiar characters approaching his hole. One was a tallish dapper fellow dressed in a nice respectable two piece suit. (It was the Pertwee Doctor, in fact, not that he will resemble him much in this tale). The other was a rather horridly unattractive Scotshobbit in an unfinished kilt - which could easily be confused with a mini-kilt.

"Good morning, my good hobbit," said the Doctor. "Are we in Middle Earth? And there's me thinking it a totally imaginary place. Though, of course, there are those who think I am imaginary myself. Ahh! The Multiverse. Full of possibilities. Is that a semi-naked hobbit lass in a tub in your parlour, little Ozhobbit?"

Odo hastilly shut his door. "Never mind that..." he said.

"I didna mind at all," Petty grinned oafishly (as was his way).

"Hey! What's that blue box with "Police" written on it?" Odo wanted to know, because he had never seen a Tardis before.

"It's my turn to say, 'Never mind that', the Doctor grinned. He often made excellent jokes like that (I seem to remember). (Or maybe it was Tom Baker?) "Tell me, is this Middle Earth?"

"Well, after a fashion I guess - though we locals call it Forumshire - for legal reasons..."

"You're Odo Banks!" Petty exclaimed. "The enemy of all McTyrants (and Tyrants). Oooh, Dooktor, have we come to end his evil and ridiculous ways?"

"Hey! You son of a Tyrant and his squirrel mistress, what do you in my backyard? You're not after my ducks again."

"Noo, I'm not - not this time - I've just been away flying in the Tardis, fighting Daleks, wrestling Cybermen, and being shit scared by these really weird Angels - or was that when I was with one of the other Dooktors? Gets confusing, flying through time and space."

"You liar! That blue box thingee doesn't even have wings!"

"It doen need 'em. It's magical."

"No, dear little Petty,"the Doctor amiably interrupted, "It obeys certain scientific principles."

"Principles, hey?" Odo wondered aloud - and somewhat accusingly.

"It obeys noo Scientific Principle I'm kenning?" Petty said, looking confused - which, no doubt, he often did.

"Anyway, I need to know why the Tardis brought me here," the Doctor said amiably. "I was trying to arrive in the middle of a sex scene with Billie Piper in that Call Girl show she was in..."

"Maybe it's the trolls..." Odo expostulated suddenly. "If you go off fighting weird creatures in all sorts of weird and wonderful places, maybe you've come here about the trolls..."

And Odo's face drained of colour. For the trolls were living at the end of Rushock Bog lane, after eating Molly McGregor and her talking donkey, Ass. The trolls were large, could stand sunlight, and refused to pay Odo rent for the squalid little hovel with no fire and moss and mould growing on every cracked wall. A fine abode too - according to Odo's palantir site.

"Trolls you say?"the Doctor said with a frown. "Sounds more like fantasy than science fiction to me."

"They might NOT be trolls," Petty put in. "Ock the nelly noo. What if they're aliens pretendin to be trolls." And his face turned pale too.

"I thought trolls were bad enough," Odo exclaimed and he and Petty jumped together and clung to each other in spontaneous expression of conjoined terror. There they shook for at least three minutes, forgetting the long held feud of their families.

"Well, I best go and see who - or what - these trolls are," the Doctor sighed. "I hope this is not a sign the scripts are going downhill."

"I hope they're not homosexual aliens, Dooktor!"

"Nor homosexual trolls!"

"My good hobbits, fear not. I'm the Doctor from back when homosexuals didn't exist."

"Can you be sure?" asked Odo and Petty still clinging tightly.

"I have a Tardis. I should know."

"But I thought you and I..." began Petty.

"What happens in the Tasrdis stays in the Tardis, my dear Laddie," the Doctor rebuked him amiably. "Now, lead me to these trolls, my good Ozhobbit."

So Odo lead the Doctor and Petty down Rushock Lane to the hovel where the trolls were squatting. Mrs McGregors skull had been put on a pike at the front door, to deter Jehovah's Witnesses.

"Hello," the Doctor cried from the lane just outside the gate. "Is anyone home?"

The door opened and a Dalek rolled out. "Terminate! Terminate!"

Then Odo heard really funny music (electronic music in fact, but the rustic Ozhobbit was pretty unfamiliar with electronic music, though he had heard All Around my Hat by Steeleye Span and quite liked it).

Now, as this an older type of Dr Who story, I have to stop here. You'll have to wait on tenterhooks, I'm afraid. Dr Who was always better that way. Cliff hanger endings. No poofery. Ooo... those were the days.

TO BE CONTINUED

"Anyway, I need to know why the Tardis brought me here," the Doctor said amiably. "I was trying to arrive in the middle of a sex scene with Billie Piper in that Call Girl show she was in..."

(Not that I condone this sort of story at all)

Are you frightened, Petty? I hope I didn't make it tooooo scary for people here.

I have All around My Hat and Rocket Village in my record collection! I keep them in a box in my wardrobe as I have no working record player.

DR WHO AND THE TROLLS

Episode 2


So Odo lead the Doctor and Petty down Rushock Lane to the hovel where the trolls were squatting. Mrs McGregors skull had been put on a pike at the front door, to deter Jehovah's Witnesses.

"Hello," the Doctor cried from the lane just outside the gate. "Is anyone home?"

The door opened and a Dalek rolled out. "Terminate! Terminate!"

"My Sweet Eru!" cried Odo, "They're quite different with their coats off!"

Dr Who acted quickly. "Run! Run away!"

"But thar Daleks, Dooktor, the most chillingly efficient killing bio-machines in the Multiverse!" Petty cried, stricken by fear. "We doen stund a chance of out running them!"

"Oh contrare! They'll have a hell of time getting down those front stairs." (Remember, this story is set back in Pertwee's time as Doctor).

And so off the three companions ran, at the clackers, while the sound of clattering wheels and evil-mechanicl cries of: "Oooh f^$#@ me dead, I've tipped over again... Help! Help!" reached their retreating ears.

An hour later, the Doctor was holding forth at the Muck and Duck.

"What's to be done, Dooktor?" Petty was asking over a flagon of Buckie - his lips a little pinched, because it wasn't Scotshobbit quality at all, at all. "There's hardly a stair in all of Forumshire, even if the Gondorions have some nice baroque Italian marble ones. There's nowhere to hide."

"As always, I plan to find an answer," the Doctor said amiably. "Even if some luck will have to be involved, and as long as the Daleks keep saying "Terminate! Terminate!' and so keep giving us time to run away - at least, until Episode 7 that is."

"Some day luck might run out," Petty said sardonically.

"Don't be daft," the Doctor told him amiably. "The problem we have - and we've had it before, Petty - is that Dalek's are nigh on indestructable."

"Aye! How we keep managing to kill 'em is amazin, what!"

"We could use the nitrates in manure to make explosives," Odo suggested, not knowing if it was possible, but wanting to be helpful.

"Now, Mr Banks, you must leave the planning to us," the Doctor advised him amiably. "I dare say, you could come up with all sorts of fantasy solutions, but the Daleks are actually a science fiction poblem."

"Aye, but we are in a fantasy world, Dooktor." Petty put in, hopefully, "So p'raps we may need to take a fantasy approach. Fantasy and science fiction can sometimes co-exist in a Mutliverse."

"Yes, but it rarely is great entertainment."

"Entertaintainment!" Petty expostulated, spraying buckie froth all over Odo. "You talk of mere entertainment! And there being Daleks in Middle Earth, no doubt bent on killin all life."

"Well, who can say they're planing to kill everyone?" the Doctor queried amiably.

"Ock the noo! Of course they are! They're Daleks!!!!"

"I confess that's sound reasoning.... Now, what shall we do... Oh my goodness, what a buxon wench!"

Just then Porgy Bunk-Banks walked into the Muck and Duck.

"It's my Sister-in-Law, Porgy," Odo said dismally. "Hi! Porgy! Over here. I've got visitors."

"Oooh well hello, Sirs. Is that you Petty?"

"It 'tis. "

"And who is this tall man with such fine silver hair and an ever so amiable smile?"

"Some call me 'the Doctor', dear lass," the Doctor said and stood and bowed grandly, taking Porgy's hand in his and giving it a delicate kiss.

"Oooh..." Porgy said, blushing.

"The Doctor is here to rid Mrs McGregor's hovel of those 'orrid trolls of mine," Odo informed her. "Strange trolls too, as I only found out in the last hour or so; like upside down icecream cones but all shiny metal - with their coats off, at least."

"Oooh, goodness, it sounds like those three strange metal things that was following me up the hill just now..."

Suddenly, the windows of the Muck and Duck blew out and funny beams of light shot through the door and killed the publican.

"Terminate! Terminate!"

"Run!" the Doctor yelled. "Run for your lives!"

And the Doctor took Porgy by the hand and ran for the back door dragging her in his wake.

Then that peculiar electronic music started again, which Odo found perplexing. As he sped after the Doctor, Porgy and Petty, he wondered if the Daleks were some kind of lethal Jukebox, as he'd heard tell certain folk had in foreign countries?

TO BE CONTINUED

the sound of clattering wheels and evil-mechanicl cries of: "Oooh f^$#@ me dead, I've tipped over again... Help! Help!" reached their retreating ears.

hhmm I think you will find that its EXterminate! EXterminate! my sweet Bugle of Delight. But all power to the poetic licence and all that what?

Ooooh... Hadn't even realized! No wonder these Daleks seemed a trifle less scary than the Beeb's Dalek's! I must let the Anonymous Author know...

DR WHO AND THE TROLLS

Episode 3

"Oooh, goodness" [said Porgy] "it sounds like those three strange metal things that was following me up the hill just now..."

Suddenly, the windows of the Muck and Duck blew out and funny beams of light shot through the door and killed the publican.

"Terminate! Terminate!"

"Run!" the Doctor yelled. "Run for your lives!"

And the Doctor took Porgy by the hand and ran for the back door dragging her in his wake.

Down Muck hill they ran, in the direction of Needlehole.

"Ock Dooktor, we'll never outrun 'em. Thar are no stairs between here and Redlite Street to slow them doon."

"Redlite Street?" the Doctor puffed enquiringly as parts of Porgy bounced beside him in their haste.

"It's the onlee place I noo in Needlehole."

"And you can catch the Needlehole-Lore Tower buscart to the Tower of Lore from there," Porgy assisted. "I've been up to see Lord Eldorion, once ... or twice... quite often - seeking advice... on things... He adores science fiction, he's always getting me to dress up as Princess Lea... Anyhow, he'll know what to do about those bad tempered upside-down-icecream cones! "

"They're Daleks," the Doctor puffed amiably. "The most evil and dangerous machine-creatures in the Multiverse."

"Machine creatures?"

"Yes, Porgy. Try not to be afraid, but they are machines with pink fleshy things in them, an amorphous coagulate in fact, and sentient. Theyre a very ancient and evil species and quite a lot like chewing gum to look at."

"How do they drive the machines?" Porgy exclaimed. "I mean, wouldn't their arms be too pliable?"

"Who the hell noos how they doo it," Petty piped up as he sped along in front of them, trying - largely unsuccessfully -to keep his kilt from lifting in a small breeze that fluttered up Muck Hill from the direction of Archet. "Not even the Dooktar, I'd hazard."

"Only too true," the Doctor frowned. "Funny, no one has ever even raised the issue before - except most probably on my Fan Site, no doubt. Anyway, I'm sure there's a perfectly good scientific explanation for it. Now, how far is it to this Redlite Street?"

"Not far," Odo gasped, catching his breath as he sped, "I know an excellent short cut."

"I bet you doo," Petty called back, his tone dripping with all the banality of McTyrant sarcasm.

"And you would know, Mr Squirrel-squeezer!"

"Ha! You know about the squirrels do you? So you've been there - moren once I'd ken!"

"Not as many times as you I bet, Mr Scottiebritches, thank you very much!"

"Enough!" the Dooktor rebuked them. "We're fleeing the most virulently sinister race in the Multiverse and you're trading childish snide remarks! What will the folk reading this Episode be thinking? And I might remind you that this the Wholesome Tales Thread, and therefore very Respectable! For shame!"

Petty and Odo, suitably ashamed, kept their simple thoughts to themselves for awhile after that. But they gave each other evil side glances even as they puffed and panted along the Rushock Bog-Needlehole Road.

They had almost reached the MacDonalds on the outskirts of Needlehole when a funny mechanical whirring noise accosted their ears. Stopping under the Golden Arches, they looked back toward Rushock Bog. To their horror, one of the Daleks was flying toward them. Yes, "flying", though "hovering" might be a better description.

"My God!" the Doctor cried. "Who ever would of thought to put post-90's Dalek's in a pre-90's context?"

"Exterminate! Exterminate!"

"Not onlee that," Petty cried. "They've even remembered their catch-cry!"

"Does that make them more dangerous?" Odo squealed, terrified at the sight of the Dalek hovering quickly toward them, looking a bit like it was hanging on invisible silver wires, though, of course, this was highly unlikely, it definitely being a post-90's type Dalek.

"Follow me!" Odo cried, finding a courage he never knew he had, even as he tried to steady his wobbly legs, "I know a secret entrance to Mrs Figgs House of Subtle Pleasures and Seafood."

"I bet you doo.."

"Oh shut up, Petty! There's no time for that!" the Doctor yellled, barely amiably. "Run! Run for your lives!"

















[quote]

This new series of Doctor Who just gets more and more exciting! If this were how Petty had introduced me to the show I'd definitely have wanted to watch more right away. I look forward to seeing the Tower of Lore and "my" appearance. I suspect there may be a few weapons stashed away at the Tower that could help against Daleks, even if they are post-90s type.

I couldn't agree with you more, Eldo! This Series (if the first three Episodes are any indicator), is going to be an Instant Sensation. It definitely has the right mix of interesting quirky characters for a start.

(1) A good mannered, amiable, dapper Doctor of the Old Style (but not over-witty, just the right amount), with a catchy cartch-cry: "Run! Run for your lives!" (Gives me tingles, that does);

(2) A buxom lass from a rustic country village (and eye-candy) who can look after the girly parts;

(3) An irascible, and often crabbit and scowling Scotshobbit, who is vulgar, be-kilted and rather thick of the skull;

(4) A respectable country gentlehobbit, very handsome with neatly combed feet, thrown into a science fiction world, who can have an ongoing (witty) feud with his (Mc)Tyrant foe.

Classic Who, I'd say, not relying on just two or three main characters, but on FOUR! (Brilliant! What scope to put in all sorts of side-stories!)

Throw in some classic fantasy tropes (I mean, who has ever thought of putting hobbit-like folk in a science fiction setting before, I mean to say!) alongside a marvellous Authorial eye for the cliff-hanger and you've got PERFECT Who, I'd say.

The Bugle's Anonymous Author should be writing scripts for the BBC, mind, not wasting his not inconsiderable talents amusing the likes of we Forumshirerer's, true, but there you go.

(Btw that Lord Eldorion sounds soooo "interesting" and "mysterious"- and anyone who likes Princess Lea can't be ALL bad! )

DR WHO AND THE DALEKS

Episode 4


"Follow me!" Odo cried, finding a courage he never knew he had, even as he tried to steady his wobbly legs, "I know a secret entrance to Mrs Figgs House of Subtle Pleasures and Seafood."

"I bet you doo.."

"Oh shut up, Petty! There's no time for that!" the Doctor yellled, barely amiably. "Run! Run for your lives!"

And the Doctor and his three intrepid companions bolted toward Needlehole. They entered a copse of trees on the very outskirts and Odo stopped them.

"Quick," he said, "we must follow this little path off the road. There's an old tunnel that will take us directly to Mrs Figgs."

And in no time, Odo was lifting a carefully camoflaged door into the tunnel. It was no easy effort either, for "camoflaged" is never easy to spell, and the fact was they were too much in danger to stop and look it up, even if they had had a dictionary with them, which they didn't.

"Quick. Down this ladder," Odo cried, and the other three slipped down a deep hole, coming out in a rather well made tunnel with the smell of fresh soil permeating the place.

Odo shut the door above the tunnel and soon joined them.

"How will we see?" Porgy asked. "Ooooh! I'm scared of the dark."

"That's not my hand you're holding, dear girl," Doctor Who said amiably.

"Hang on..." Odo said..."There you go."

Suddenly the tunnel was lit up by bright Elvish Orbs.

"Nock the noo, bar humbybumby!" Petty scowled. "This tunnel looks modern --and oo put in the lights?"

"I did," Odo said proudly, with his thumbs behind his braces. "I dug this myself... err... in case of troubles."

"And it goes to Mrs Figgs, is that right, Odo?" Porgy asked in delight. "We always suspected something of the like... Wisey and I used to follow you this way, suspecting you of being up to something somewhere in Needlehole, though we always lost your track in this copse. We were beginning to think you had a magic ring to go with your magic scuttle. Ha! So it's always off to Mrs Figgs, is it? You devil!"

"Err... it's not what you think, Porgy."

"What do I think, Odo?" Porgy grinned knowingly.

" I surely wouldn't know.... "

"'Magic Scuttle'?" Petty asked suspiciously. "What Magic Scuttle?"

"Who said anything about a magic scuttle?" Odo said hastily. "We only have one - an old rusty unmagical heirloom... Anyhow, follow me."

"I've heard Mrs Figg serves Eels in Salacious Sauce, Odo," Porgy said with some excitement as they followed him. "Is that true, Odo?"

"I wouldn't know, I surely wouldn't know," Odo said as he scuttled onward, picking up the pace.

At last, they came to the neatly pannelled well lit tunnel and found a door.

"This leads into the cellar of Mrs Figg," Odo told them. "I put it here just in case of... troubles."

"You already said that," Petty grated suspiciously.

"Oh don't be so suspicious," the Doctor said. "Odo's explanation seems quite reasonable."

"I dont trust him, Dooktor, he's a Banks! You canna trust them."

"But so am I," Porgy said in a hurt tone as she reached out and laid a delicate caress on the unattractive Scotshobbit's cheek.

" Well, onlee by marriage.. you're not a real Banks, Porgy... But I stand by what I said... specially about Odo - he's the worst of the lot!"

"Oh will you stop getting your pouffles in a knot, Petty," the Doctor rebuked him amiably. "Lead on, good Odo."

And Odo took a key from his pocket and opened the door.

"Buckie!" Petty squealed, very much like a girl would. "Buckie! Buckie!"

"Control yourself," the Doctor told him, but it was too late, for Petty was already lying underneath the tap of one of the many huge buckie barrels in Mrs Figgs cellar.

"Galug galug galug!"

"Typical! " Odo said.

"Who's down there in my cellar? came a queerly metallic voice from atop the stairway of the cellar.

The Doctor and Porgy and Odo looked up to see a strange looking woman on the landing. She was dressed in a frilly nightie and knickers, a suspender belt, and had a feather boa on her strangely shaped head. From the middle of her head stuck out a long rod with a mechanical-looking eye on the end of it.

"Oh it's Mrs Figg!" Odo said joyfully. "And looking as comely as ever."

"Oooh Odo, is that you?"

"It is I, Mrs Figg - but why does your voice sound all electronic somehow?"

"It's because it's NOT your Mrs Figg," the Doctor advised him.

"Yes it is - I've seen her in that nightie before... once.. only once... by accident...."

"Is Mrs Figg usually shaped like an upside down icecream cone?"

"I've never seen her upside down... Oh no, I did once... only once... by accident... She certainly didnt look like an upside down icecream cone at the time, but then again, I was somewhat preoccupied... "

But the Doctor cut Odo off before that respectable Ozhobbbit could incriminate himself any further. "Mrs Figg is a Dalek, Odo! A Dalek"!

"Exterminate! Exterminate!"

The Doctor ran back into the tunnel, dragging Porgy by the hand, who dragged Odo, who dragged Petty, who was realy pissed off.

"Ock the noo... Buckie, where for art thou, ooh Buckie! "

Once back in the tunnel, Odo slammed the door shut.

"That should hold it up," he said proudly with his thumbs behind his braces (again). "It's a deadlock!"

But, to everyone's upmost surprise, the door exploded. Out into the tunnel rolled Mrs Figg Dalek.

"Exterminate! Exterminate!"

"Run! Run for your life!" cried the Doctor, and not for the last time.

I want you to know this is distateful and sacraligous probably but..... I'm in Doctor Who!!!!!