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The moonlight sent pale, ghostly shadows streaming across the park in a complex waltz of phantoms. All lay under that blanket of heavy silence that is only found in the lands beyond the grave or the wee hours of an Alabama Summer night. The shadows twisted and writhed and came together into the form of a young woman, her pale, ethereal beauty seemingly woven from the cloth of moonbeams. She glided to a stone bench by the side of a still pond and sat, gazing into the night with an expression that was part sorrow and part wistful longing. A small sigh was the only sound in the world. She waited, idly tossing her mane of chestnut curls and swishing one delicate foot beneath the pale, pearl-colored dress she wore. Her wait was soon over, as the sound of bootheels clocked their way through the park, their echo seeming to be absorbed into the night sky. As she watched, a young man appeared, clad all in black. She noted his approach, watching the purposeful strength of his strides and the harsh and grim set of his features. Catching his eye, she smiled at him, the whole courtyard seeming to percep- tibly lighten. He smiled back, and the dark cast of his features melted away. Almost timidly, he came to her. "May I, my Lady?" he asked, gesturing at the bench. His voice was deep and carried the slow, lilting drawl of the Southern Appalachians. "Please," she answered, her own voice sweet and precise and very British. "We have much to discuss." He sat beside her, and each of them seemed to both crave and fear the other's nearness. They turned slightly to look at one another, nothing but a few inches of damp night air between them. Gently, slowly, she reached out and took his scarred and calloused hand in her own soft and tender one. He swallowed nervously, and the girl watched the way he trembled at her touch, the ropy muscles of his bare arms knotting as if from some inner battle for self-control. "I know how you feel about me," she breathed. He stared into her eyes, searching for some clue to her feelings. "You know th- that I... that I..." "Love me?" she prodded. He nodded, and she looked away slightly, her eyes drawn to the lone splotch of color in the spectral night: a tattoo on his left arm of a white flag with a blood-red Cross of St. Andrew in its middle. "Yes, I know that you love me." She still would not meet his eye. "But, there is... a problem." watched, fascinated, as the muscles clenched and tightened beneath the flag, yet the hand that held hers remained as gentle as ever, only a slight tremble revealing the depth of emotion in its owner. "A problem," he replied, an edge of agony in his voice. "What... sort of problem?" "It's with me," she whispered sorrowfully. "I could love you back, _would_ love you, but that I... I... I'm not..." "Your happiness is all I desire," he said tightly. "Anything that I can do... anything at all..." "There is, but I could not ask..." "_Anything_ for you, Nyssa." She looked again into his eyes, and saw the truth in them. Gently, she bent down and picked up a curled magnolia leaf, then turned and dipped it in the pond, filling it, cup-like, with the cool water. "I could love you, but... not as you are," she said, trembling now herself. "Would you do... even _this_?" He took the cupped leaf from her. "_Anything_," he answered, then poured the water over himself. There was a shimmer of change as the water coursed down his body. The dark hair turned a coppery red, the body shrunk slightly, and the thick muscles smoothed out into softer shapes. Even the clothing changed, as the black sleeveless shirt and jeans melded and flowed into a long black dress. In less than a second, where the man had sat was now a beautiful, shapely young woman. Only the blue-green eyes and the bright shape of the flag tattoo remained of the man she had been. "Anything," she repeated, her voice low and musical, but retaining its soft drawl. She laughed gently. "Although, I never imagined that you would prefer _this_ body--" She stopped as Nyssa reached out and tenderly touched her cheek. "So beautiful..." Nyssa sighed. She trailed her fingers down the redhead's cheek, then lightly across her lips. The other girl sighed and kissed the fingertips as they passed. The redhead took the hand delicately in her own and kissed the girl's knuckles, prompting a blush. "God, I love you, Nyssa," she husked. The Traken girl pulled her hand gently away slipped it around the other's neck, pulling her close. Timidly -- fearfully, almost -- they brought their lips together. The kiss was neither long nor deep, but bore the promise of greater yet to be. Nyssa pulled back slightly and gazed into the other's eyes. "I love you, too," she sighed, then kissed the other girl again. Both shivered with the contact, as though currents of ice and fire raced through their bodies. The redhead leaned back a little as Nyssa ran her lips along her jawline. "Just one more thing," the Traken murmurred. "Anything," moaned the redhead, then tilted her head as Nyssa's kisses found their way along her neck. "Just what _is_ your real name?"she asked as the redhead's fingers ran through her silken hair. "It's--" ---- BZZZZZZZZZTTTTTT!!!!! Number One jerked awake in his bunk, flailing madly for the alarm clock. He stared blearily about for a moment, trying to make sense of the world. Something about satellites and parks and moonlight and... He shook his head to clear it. Oh, yeah. He'd been dreaming. And now he was awake in his room aboard the Satellite of Love. All that stuff about him and Nyssa in the park was just in his head. That was it. He mulled this over for a moment, then began ferociously pummelling the alarm clock into its component particles. As he released his aggressions in a healthy manner, a stray memory crossed his mind. It was something his great-granny had always said, "Many a time, a dream is a prophecy." Great- granny had always believed in doing what her dreams told her. Hmmm. If she was right... ---- BKWillis presents... TO DIE FOR: MYSTERY PSYCHO THEATER 3000 [cue Theme Song] ~o In the not-too-distant future Not too far from This Time Round There was a girl named Nyssa whose Sanity was not-quite-sound. She and some others used to fuss and fight And destroy the pub almost every night. So the staff and patrons of that place Used Borusa's Time-Scoop to stick them up in spaaaaace... (Nyssa, shouting:) "You'll regret this!!" (Adric, singing:) "We'll send them crappy fiction The worst we can find. (la-la-laaa) They'll have to sit and read them all To drive the violence from their minds." (la-la-laaa) Now keep in mind only Adric controls When the session begins or is through As he tries to force some sense into This completely unhinged crew. PSYCHO ROLL CALL! NYSSA! ("Don't hate me because I'm beautiful.") DOUG! ("Go Cubs!") NUMBER ONE! ("Damn, I'm good.") DIAAAAANE! ("_Yes_, I'm a real blonde.") If you're wondering how they eat and breathe And other science facts, Just repeat to yourself, "It's just a 'fic. I should really just relax." 'Cause it's Mystery Psycho Theater 3000! (bwang) o~ ---- [Interior bridge of the Satellite of Love] [The bridge is fairly quiet and clean for once. DIANE (a pretty blonde woman wearing a US Army T-shirt and jeans) is sitting at the console, reading a through a stack of paper and sipping coffee.] DIANE: [looks up from papers] Oh! Hello, everyone! My name is Diane, and this is the Satellite of Love. [looks around] The rest of the zoo crew should be here just any minute now, so just make yourself comfortable while we wait. [resumes reading] [A moment later, DOUG (a tall man with his hair in a short pony- tail and dressed similarly to DIANE) enters from the right.] DOUG: (to DIANE) 'Morning. DIANE: [still reading] Hi, Doug. Say hello to the viewers at home. DOUG: Huh? Oh, uh... hi there! [waves to screen] (to DIANE) So, what're you reading? DIANE: Nyssa managed to get us a temporary internet connection last night, so I downloaded a whole bunch of fanfic. DOUG: (surprised) I thought we had all the fanfic we could handle already. DIANE: Yeah, but this is _good_ fanfic. _Mostly_ good, anyway. I downloaded the 'Ranma 1/2' fanfic archive and printed out a bunch of stuff. DOUG: Cool. Is the new 'Pursuit of Happiness' out yet? [NUMBER ONE (a short, dark man wearing jeans, sunglasses, and a sleeveless UNA Lions T-shirt) walks across the bridge from the left and then off the right, smoking a cigarette.] DOUG: (to NUMBER ONE) 'Morning, Number One. NUMBER ONE (off-stage): [grunts] DIANE: (to screen) That was Number One. We don't know what his real name is, so don't ask. We do know that he has a curse that turns him into a girl when he gets cold water on him. (to DOUG) Nah, no 'Pursuit' yet, but this one here is pretty good. DOUG: What is it? [There is the sound of splashing water from off-stage, then NUMBER ONE (now a short, well-built girl with red hair) crosses the bridge from the right and then off the left.] DIANE: The story is called 'Her'. The idea is that Ranma starts turning into a girl in mind as well as in body. DOUG: Neat. DIANE: And, of course, Ranma gets engaged again. DOUG: Wouldn't be 'Ranma 1/2' without it. Who gets him this time? DIANE: As it happens, he turns into a girl completely and she and Ryoga fall in love. DOUG: Hahahahaha! Yeah, right! Ranma and Ryoga are arch- rivals. No way would that ever happen! DIANE: I don't know, the author makes it seem pretty plausible... DOUG: Yeah, right. That would be like... like... me and Number One falling for each other. No way in Hell. DIANE: (teasingly) You don't think Number One is cute as a girl? DOUG: [laughs] She's cute, but she's still a _he_. [NUMBER ONE (Female) enters again from the left. She has changed clothes and is now wearing a short black skirt and a black blouse that is mostly unbuttoned.] NUMBER ONE (F): (to OTHERS) Hey there, Doug, Di. (to screen) Hello, sadistic voyeurs at home. DOUG: [looks at NUMBER ONE (F)] Gaah! NUMBER ONE (F): (to DOUG, annoyed) What's _your_ problem, Yankee? DOUG: (nervously) Wh- why are you a girl? NUMBER ONE (F): I've got a _curse_, remember? DOUG: No, I mean, why are you a girl right _now_? NUMBER ONE (F): (uneasy) I just... felt like it. What's it to you? DOUG: (hastily) Oh, nothing! Nothing at all. [NYSSA (a beautiful teenaged girl with curly brown hair and wearing a white shirt and shorts) enters from the right.] NYSSA: (to OTHERS) Good morning. Sorry I overslept. [looks at NUMBER ONE (F)] Cute outfit, One. NUMBER ONE (F): [moves closer to NYSSA] You think so? NYSSA: (disinterested) Yes. Very nice. (to DIANE) What have you got there? DIANE: (to screen) This is Nyssa of Traken, by the way. Very smart, but very crazy. (to NYSSA) I printed up some stuff from the 'Ranma 1/2' fanfic archive. NYSSA: Cool. [A light begins to flash on the console.] DIANE: Uh-oh. Looks like Bob Marley and the Wailers are calling. [presses light] ---- [Interior back room at This Time Round] [Various large electronic devices are clustered around the walls, as are a few boxes of coasters, mugs, and other pub-related items. Standing behind the control console are ADRIC (a teenaged boy with black hair and wearing an ugly yellow and green outfit) and HARRY (a handsome, curly-haired man in his 30's wearing a barman's apron). HARRY is smiling cheerfully, while ADRIC looks nervous.] ADRIC: (to screen) Good morning, Kelly, Jill, Sabrina, and Bosley. HARRY: [waves] Konnichiwa! That's Japanese for 'Hello', you know! ---- [SOL] DOUG: (brightly) Good morning, Adric! Hello, Harry! How are you today? NUMBER ONE (F): (softly, to self) Brown-noser... DIANE: Hi. NYSSA: 'Morning, Harry. Hey, Swamprat. Why so glum? Did the price of acne medicine go up? ---- [TTR] ADRIC: If you _must_ know, a Mrs. Pearl Forrester and her associates are coming by today to discuss a possible copyright lawsuit. HARRY: [claps ADRIC on the shoulder] Don't fret, Old Boy. Just have confidence and be yourself, and I'm sure everything will be okay. ADRIC: (to HARRY) Which should I do? Have confidence or be myself? The two are mutually exclusive. ---- [SOL] NUMBER ONE (F): Damn. _I_ was gonna say that... ---- [TTR] ADRIC: So, at any rate, I don't have time to deal with you lot today. So, you know what that means... ---- [SOL] [Ribbons and streamers decorate the entire bridge as confetti falls from the ceiling. DOUG and NUMBER ONE (F) have party hats on and are blowing horns and twirling noisemakers. NYSSA is dancing on the console, and DIANE is struggling to open a bottle of Champagne.] DIANE: So, no fanfic today, huh? Too bad... ---- [TTR] ADRIC: No, it just means that Harry and Francois will conduct the session for me. I've got to go meet Mrs. Forrester now. (to HARRY) Take over until I get back. HARRY: (to ADRIC) Righty-ho! Good luck! [ADRIC exits through the door in the background.] HARRY: [thinks for a moment] Let's see... why don't we start off with some letters from our viewers? ---- [SOL] [The bridge is back to normal and everyone is back in their regular clothing. There is not a trace of the party favors or confetti.] DIANE: (resignedly) Whatever you say, Harry... ---- [TTR] HARRY: (happily) Oh, look! Here comes the postman now! [FRANCOIS the Ogron (a massive, brutish-looking humanoid) enters from the left. FRANCOIS is wearing a letter carrier's uniform that is far too small for him. Seams bulge and split as he walks up to HARRY. FRANCOIS is obviously in extreme dis- comfort from the outfit.] FRANCOIS: (to HARRY) Friendly postman Francois bring mail to smiley-man. [hands HARRY several envelopes] HARRY: (to FRANCOIS) Thank you, dedicated employee of the Postal Service! FRANCOIS: Not problem. [FRANCOIS turns and walks off to the left, tugging at the straddle of his far-too-small pants.] FRANCOIS (off-screen): Francois know now why letter-bringers go crazy... HARRY: [opens envelope] What have we here...? [scans letter] Ah, here we go! This says: [reading] "I enjoy your show very much, it always brings a laugh when I need it. One thing, though. Could you ask them not to pick on my parents so much?" That's from a Miss Chelsea C.. [HARRY throws the letter over his shoulder and opens another.] HARRY: Oh, this is nice! It says: [reading] "Excellent humor! I love those Clinton gags, and the line jokes are good, too. Happy sniping!" A Mr. Rush L. wrote that. [HARRY throws the letter away and opens the last one.] HARRY: Hmmm... Interesting. I'm not sure what to make of this, exactly. It just says, "Tell Doug he'd better not stray." Any of you know what that means? ---- [SOL] [DOUG looks puzzled as the OTHERS look at him curiously.] DOUG: [shrugs] No idea. Does it say who it's from? ---- [TTR] HARRY: It's from a Mrs. Siobhan K. in Illinois, USA. Does that help? ---- [SOL] [DOUG looks very pale and panic-stricken.] DOUG: (muttering) Ohmigod... She's gonna kill me... Oh no... NYSSA: (to DOUG) Hey! What's the matter? DOUG: (muttering) I'm dead... Oh crap... I'm doomed... DIANE: (to DOUG) Hey! Isn't 'Siobhan' your wife's name? DOUG: (muttering) Gonna die... She's seen me with these two... three... [looks at NUMBER ONE (F) contemplatively for a moment] ...two-and-a-half pretty girls... gonna die... ---- [TTR] HARRY: Oh dear! I guess that _did_ mean something to him. Oh well. [shrugs] The fanfic for today's session is by the same author as your last one, a Mr. David Woon, and is called 'The Last Cyberman'. Make the best of it! [HARRY pushes a large and conspicuous button on the console.] ---- [SOL] [Various alarms, lights, and sirens go off as general chaos ensues.] [DOUG snaps out of his daze.] ALL: Aaaaah! We've got fanfic sign! [ALL run off.] ---- [Door sequence: 6... 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...] ---- [SOL, Theater interior] [The four enter the theater from a door on the right, all carrying popcorn and drinks. NYSSA takes the aisle seat, with NUMBER ONE (F) on her left, DOUG on the other side of him, and DIANE to DOUG's left. NUMBER ONE (F) sits noticeably closer to NYSSA than usual.] NYSSA: I have a feeling that this one is going to hurt. Bad. DIANE: Uh-oh. Incoming! [A screen in front of the four lights up and words begin to appear on it.] >------------------------------------------------------------------------ > This is the SECOND episode in a series. Please address >comments or requests for further information or the previous >episode to: ng436@pnlg.pnl.gov (or) ng436@traken.pnl.gov NUMBER ONE (F): You know, I never _used_ to advocate over- throwing the government by violence, but now... > -- David E. Woon -- Molecular Science Research Center -- DIANE: Which just goes to show that whoever said science and art don't mix... was pretty much on the money. >BNL -- NYSSA: I think we're missing a pair of 'A's. > -- Alumnus of Michigan Tech University -- DOUG: Where it is a lie that they give a diploma to anyone who drives through town with their window down. You have to park for a minute. >------------------------------------------------------------------------ > DOUG: (to OTHERS) Anybody got a good line joke? OTHERS: [shake their heads] NYSSA: Can't think of any. Do you want to skip it this time? DOUG: Looks like we'll have to. > > THE LAST CYBERMAN NUMBER ONE (F): James Fenimore Cooper's novel of the early days of frontier Mondas. > by David E. Woon > > >BACKGROUND: > DOUG: (Johnny from 'Airplane') First, the Earth cooled, and then the dinosaurs came. But they got too big and fat, so they all died and turned into oil. Then the Arabs came and bought Mercedes-Benzes... >Nyssa and the Doctor have travelled to Gallifrey by a long and >pleasant route. DIANE: Passing through the scenic splendor of downtown Belfast... NUMBER ONE (F): ...the relaxing beaches of Somalia... NYSSA: ...the uninhibited revels of Taliban-era Afghanistan... DOUG: ...and a walk through Cabrini-Green after dark. > She and the Doctor have been through the Procedure of >Primogeniture, which DOUG: ...produces a provisional Princeton professorship predi- cated on practical precepts and progressive principles of propriety. OTHERS: [applaud] >has made her a Time Lord. The procedure is complex and >involves DIANE: ...Vaseline, two bananas, a clothes pin, a live chicken, a Bishop's mitre, and several cans of plumbers' putty. > medical/physical/technological adjustment to the heir, NUMBER ONE (F): That's a euphemism for "lobotomy". >the inevitable legal work, and culminates in the Ceremony of DOUG: ...the Holy Wedgie. >Recognition, which is held before the High Council and led by >the Lord President. NUMBER ONE (F): (Bill Clinton) I would just like to recognize all the young ladies that have done such a fine job on my staff... >One purpose of this series of stories is to DIANE: ...inflict indescribeable torment on the poor damned souls that have to read it. >develop the character of Nyssa further, and to explore the >complex emotions in her life. NYSSA: (disgusted) Hmph. Self-pity is not especially complex. > But another purpose is to work in an area of the Who universe >which has never been touched upon: DOUG: Sontaran proctology. >the earliest years in the experience of a Time Lord. There is >little background upon which to build. NUMBER ONE (F): That may be because all the previous writers have felt constrained by the need to tell an interesting story. >Whereas Time Lords are from Gallifrey, it is clear that all the >people on Gallifrey are DOUG: ...Packers fans. NYSSA: ...boring old farts. NUMBER ONE (F): ...wombat molesters. DIANE: ...unemployed. > not Time Lords. ALL: D'oh! > Although the I have never heard the idea of primogeniture >mentioned in any Dr. Who story, DOUG: ...the A, E, O, and U swear to its authenticity. DIANE: So do the Y, sometimes. >it is a soundly English concept. NUMBER ONE (F): As are mercantilism, Divine Right, and screwing over the Irish. DOUG: (to NUMBER ONE (F)) Decided to lay off the French for a while, huh? > I think my ideas are reasonable extensions of bits and pieces of >ideas thrown out over the years. NUMBER ONE (F): So did Stalin. NYSSA: (to NUMBER ONE (F)) Feeling dark today? > Time Lords have the technology to perform regeneration (see >"Mawdryn Undead") and it should not be too hard to accept that >they might occasionally bestow their gifts on outsiders. DIANE: Like my Aunt Millie does with fruitcake every Christmas. > The precedent of altering genetic material has also been >established ("The Two Doctors"). I hope that my visualization of >the Ceremony of Recognition fits both the Time Lord mythos as >well as the DOUG: ...Cthulhu Mythos. NYSSA: Actually, becoming a Shoggoth or Deep One might be kind of fun. Or at least, more fun than _this_... >English love of ceremony. By the way, a phrase or two in the >ceremony are based on the PhD ceremony at my alma mater, >although I toned it down a bit. ALL: [laugh] DIANE: Somehow, I just can't quite imagine the Time Lords picking _Michigan Tech_ as the model for their ceremonial be- havior. DOUG: (Time Lord) Hey guys! After the Ceremony, what say we all go pick berries, shoot deer out of season, and make fun of Canadians, huh? >This story is a bit closer to what the average Whovian might >expect to actually see televised NUMBER ONE (F): (angrily) In other words, not Jack Shit for over ten years! NYSSA: The average Whovian is a tad bitter by now... >(although it is still going to be quietly paced and fairly >uneventful). NYSSA: (sarcastically) Oooh... I didn't expect _that_... > The first scene will, therefore, have nothing to do with the >Doctor or Nyssa initially, but DOUG: ...is instead an excerpt from 'Titanic', inserted into the program in a desperate attempt to trick adolescent girls into viewing this junk. >will introduce one of the main plots of this episode. NUMBER ONE (F): Namely, the one in which the readers will be buried after they die from boredom. NYSSA: (to NUMBER ONE (F)) My, you _are_ dark today. >------------------------------------------------------------------------ > DIANE: (singing) Would I line to you?/Would I line to you, honey?... NYSSA: (to DIANE) Pretty weak, dear heart. >SCENE 1: the planet Armitage, home of the last cyberman NUMBER ONE (F): (excitedly) 'Armitage'? Does that mean this will be a crossover involving a beautiful android cop who dresses like a hooker? DOUG: (to NUMBER ONE (F)) Not no, but _Hell_ no. > >(Armitage: an Earth-like world. NYSSA: And, therefore, mostly harmless. >The location is well off the beaten track, but not inaccessible. DOUG: Unfortunately. > It can be a quiet and lonely place. The only thing in the >vicinity which is of any interest to the outside world, beside the >the last Cyberman, are the Lyssian caves.) DIANE: So, let me get this straight. Is the outside world beside the last Cyberman, or are the Lyssian caves beside the last Cyber- man? NYSSA: [shrugs] Who knows? NUMBER ONE (F): [shrugs] Who gives a shit? > >(The last Cyberman lives in a small, isolated hovel, which it is >not far from a small town. In terms of culture parallel to earth, >it is similar to late 19th century England. DIANE: But, with the sexual mores of late 1990's Washington D.C. > The people in the town know him well. He helps them when he >can. Most trust him.) DOUG: [shrugs] People trusted Ted Bundy, too. NUMBER ONE (F): (to NYSSA) Now who's dark? >(The Cyberman is in the town, helping a man to repair his >house. Some form of transportation [a train, probably] arrives >from a different district, NYSSA: Ah, Vagueness, thy name is Woon. > and a family disembarks. The little boy and his father and >mother exchange a few words.) NUMBER ONE (F): (Mother) I'll give you a verb for two adjec- tives. DOUG: (Father) No way! For two adjectives, I want a verb _and_ a proper noun. NUMBER ONE (F): (Mother) How about a verb and a proper noun for two adjectives and a conjunction to be named later? DOUG: (Father) Hmmm... I don't know... NYSSA: (little boy) Hey! What will you give me for some pro- fanity? NUMBER ONE (F) and DOUG: (Mother and Father, together) A slap in the mouth! >B. Father, it's the last of the Cybermen! > >F. So it is. Be good while we're here or he'll eat you for supper. DIANE: So, Daddy-o is into psychological torture, then? > >M. Jonan, don't tease him. DOUG: 'Jonan'? Is that a mis-spelling of 'Onan'? NUMBER ONE (F): Can't be. He's got a kid. DIANE: Oooh... Obscure Biblical references. You do know that blasphemy is a sure road to Hell? NYSSA: I'm not very familiar with Human religions. Is Hell a bad place? OTHERS: [nod] NYSSA: Worse than _here_? DOUG: Ummm... Good question... >(They wander off toward an inn. A couple of locals, having >overheard, are seen to be shaking their heads.) NUMBER ONE (F): (local) Friggin' tourists... > > - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - > DOUG: [sticks his foot on the screen] NYSSA: (to DOUG) What _are_ you doing? DOUG: [grins] I'm toeing the line. [The OTHERS all repeatedly whap DOUG on the head.] > >SCENE 2: ALL: (tiredly) Electric Boogaloo. > Gallifrey, outside of the Chamber of the High Council. In >attendance are the Doctor, Nyssa and the Lord President ?????? NUMBER ONE (F): What the Hell...? NYSSA: And I thought 'Theta Sigma' was a weird name... >(I see her as being the same Time Lord who was the "Inquisitor" >from "Trial of a Time Lord"). All, even the Doctor, are wearing >their proper ceremonial regalia. DIANE: A vinyl mini-skirt, pasties, and deely-bops. > >D. This is the last of it, Nyssa. DOUG: (Doctor) You drank all the rest. > >(Nyssa, although usually collected, is a bit overwhelmed by >everything. She has only begun to adjust to the physical changes >which have NUMBER ONE (F): ...turned her from a girl into a woman. DOUG: (to NUMBER ONE (F)) At least she _was_ a girl before she became a woman... NUMBER ONE (F): (to DOUG, angrily) Shut up, Yankee! DOUG: [snickers] >been made to her.) > > P. Don't worry about the way you feel, dear. You are >experiencing DIANE: (President) ...a three-hour orgasm. NYSSA: (quietly) Don't I wish... > what every Time Lord has gone through. Remember that all of >us understand. You are surrounded by friends. > >N. Thank you, Lord President. NYSSA: Would you like your cigar back, now? > >P. I must go in now. DOUG: (President) Cover me! > I wish you well. > >(Exit P. For the moment, Nyssa stands dazed.) DIANE: (Nyssa, stoned) Whoa! The colors, man! > >D. There is one last thing to tell you. After you are accepted >into the Body of Time Lords, the Council will make a >recommendation. They have studied your character DOUG: (Doctor) ... and determined that your Cleric gets an extra first-level spell for having a Wisdom score of 13. > and life and will pronounce their judgement of what they see in >you. Do not worry if some of their words are harsh, but it is >important that you believe and trust what they say. NYSSA: (Doctor) Except for the part about going on a snipe hunt. > A common trait of the Master, the Rani, and the few other truly >renegade Time Lords is that each of them DIANE: (Doctor) ...has a Penile Compensation Complex. DOUG: (to DIANE) What about the Rani? DIANE: (to DOUG) Textbook case of penis-envy. > scoffed at the pronouncements of the Council. NUMBER ONE (F): So, the Council is like a big chain-letter scam? > >(A bit more waiting.) > ALL: (singing) I'm so tired/Tired of waiting/Tired of waiting for you-oooo-ooo... >D. It's time to go in. > >N. I'm ready. > NYSSA: (cowboy) I wuz _born_ ready! >(The doors are opened and they enter the council chamber. The >room is filled with various Time Lords. The Council is present, >of course, as well as sizable contigents from the three (?) colleges. NUMBER ONE (F): Alabama, Auburn, and UNA. DOUG: (to NUMBER ONE (F)) I'm a Northwestern fan, myself. NUMBER ONE (F): (to DOUG) Given your personality, I'm not at all surprised. > A Bailiff starts the ceremony.) DIANE: (Marsha Warfield) All rise for the Honorable Judge Harry Stone! > >B. In days long past, Rassilon, the Father of all Time Lords, NYSSA: (Bailiff) ...apparently got around quite a bit. >ordained the first High Council of Gallifrey and enpowered it to >act on his behalf, in perpertuity, in the matter of granting his >approval upon those who have been chosen to join the ranks of >the Time Lords. DOUG: This must be the bit from Michigan State's ceremony... > O Council, do you swear NUMBER ONE (F): (Bailiff) Well, you shouldn't! It's not polite! >to uphold the standard of Rassilon, and permit only the worthy >to be herein accepted? NYSSA: (Bailiff) That is to say, those that have paid their 300 quid? > >C. We do, inasmuch as we ourselves are worthy. > ALL: [bow repeatedly] We're not worthy! We're not worthy! >P. Who pleads the cause of the candiate? > >(The Doctor steps forward.) > >D. I do, Lord President. > >P. Will the candidate step forward? > >(Nyssa steps ahead to stand at the Doctor's side.) NUMBER ONE (F): (singing) Stand by your man/Give him two arms to cling to... > >P. Doctor, please present your candidate. DOUG: Mr. Alan Jones, Sensible Party. NYSSA: Mr. Kevin Phillips Bong, Slightly Silly Party. DIANE: Mr. Elsie Vvvvvppp, Silly Party. NUMBER ONE (F): And Mr. Albert Gore, Jr., Very Silly Party. >D. I present Nyssa of Traken to the judgement of the High > Council. DOUG: (Time Lord) We find you guilty of Adricide! NUMBER ONE (F): Yeah, but that's just a misdemeanor. > I have chosen to adopt her as the flesh of my flesh, and she has >passed through the Procedure of Primogeniture without harm. DIANE: (Doctor) She was missing that arm already, heh heh... > >P. Nyssa of Traken, you have come to the High Council to seek >recognition as a Time Lord. You have heard that it is our sworn >duty to accept only those who are worthy, inasmuch as we are >capable of judging. NYSSA: Considering instances like Borusa, Hedin, and the Val- eyard, I'm not too in awe of Time Lord judgement. > It is our considered judgement that you be accepted. We hereby > grant you the rank of Time Lord, along with the concomitant >rights, privileges and responsibilites thereof. DOUG: (President, rapidly) No purchase necessary. Offer not valid in Utah. Excludes tax, tag, and title. Actual mileage may vary. > >N. Thank you, Lord President. > >P. It is usual at this point for a member of the Council to speak >beyond the mere words of the ceremony, and give to you what >we would hope is the benefit of our advice, accrued through >many years of experience. DIANE: (President) Don't take any wooden nickels. NYSSA: (President) Never put whites and colors together in a hot-water wash. DOUG: (President) Wash your hands after handling raw meat. NUMBER ONE (F): (President) Never pet a burning dog. > I myself will offer our collected judgement. > >(There is small rustle among the spectators. Although not an >earth-shattering occurence, the President very rarely offers the >judgement directly. It is a sign of special interest.) NUMBER ONE (F): (President) I'm just doing this because she's such a total babe. > >P. Nyssa of Traken, we have studied you and your life. DOUG: That explains the non-stop snickering. >We know of the pain you have suffered through the evil of one of >our kind, NUMBER ONE (F): Presidents have a thing about claiming to 'feel your pain', don't they? > and of the good with which the Doctor has attempted to counter >the evil. We hope that his generosity toward you will be >rewarded with healing, and it is our belief that it will. However, >we wish to warn you that you will be given choices that may lead >you toward a grim darkness of spirit. DIANE: (President) Therefore, we recommend that you take up the banjo. It is absolutely impossible to be grim while playing a banjo. > You are very young and began as a member of a short-lived >race that does not well-comprehend the magnitude of time. NYSSA: Oooh, an ageist slam and a speciesist slam all in one line. Jesse Jackson shall hear of this! >Do nothing on impulse DOUG: Always use warp drive. NUMBER ONE (F): (to DOUG, contemptuously) Trekkie! >until you begin to grasp the potential of the length of days which >you have now inherited as a Time Lord. If you fail to heed our >words, you will surely become a true victim to the evil which you >hate. DIANE: Hey, I think this drip spammed me the other day! > You will not know good by joy or by the satisfaction of >successfully fighting evil, nor is it in sacrifice or hard work >willingly done. NYSSA: (President) Good is actually to be found only in really fresh muffins. >Good is in doing what is best for all involved, and good often >doubts its own goodness, in the hope of something better. DOUG: Betterness? > The absolutes of good and evil do exist, NUMBER ONE (F): Don't try saying that in an American public school! They'll fire your ass in a heartbeat. > and the challenge of our ephemeral lives is to discover the true >differences between DIANE: (President) ...the WCW and the WWF. >them as best we can. These are the words of the Council: take >heart from them, but also take heed. DOUG: (President) Take my wife. Please. [The sound effect of a rimshot is heard. DIANE, NYSSA, and NUMBER ONE (F) look around in confusion, while DOUG looks smug.] NYSSA: Weird... > >N. Thank you, Lord President. I will follow your words, >inasmuch as it is within my power to do so. NYSSA: Unless I don't feel like it, or something. > >B. The High Council is adjourned. > >(The session ends and people leave their seats. There are >numerous introductions and congratulations all around.) DOUG: (announcer) No one will be seated during the thrilling adjournment scene! > > - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - > NUMBER ONE (F): (Crocodile Hunter) Here we see the tracks of the One-Legged Crotchripper. Let's go catch one! > >SCENE 3: introducing Nyssa's TARDIS; the Doctor and Nyssa > >(Nyssa is being given a modern TARDIS, far more dependable >than the Doctor's [but less sentimentally quirky, of course]. It >will have a few optional features which hadn't even been >conceived of when the Type-40 series was in production.) DIANE: An eight-track tape player. DOUG: Smokeless ashtrays. NYSSA: Passenger-side airbags. NUMBER ONE (F): A competent operator. > >D. So this is the Type-43 model. It looks like a fine TARDIS, >Nyssa. I'm impressed. DIANE: (Doctor) And not at all jealous... you ungrateful little snot-nosed tramp. > >N. Doctor, I don't feel right about this. It's too much. > NYSSA: [snorts] Tegan never said that to him. >D. Nonsense. You need to start thinking like a Time Lord: we >must ignore the apparent material worth of objects DOUG: Ah. Apparently, then, Time Lords are running the US Government's purchasing offices. > and try to see the value in terms of time. If I give you an acorn, >see the tree it may become. DOUG: (singing) See the tree/How big it's grown... NUMBER ONE (F): (to DOUG) Stop! I hate that song! DOUG: (sadistically) I know. > It is true, the material worth of a TARDIS is astronomical, but >it pales before the worth of the thousands of lifetimes of research >and labor that have made it possible. DIANE: (Doctor) But don't feel pressured or anything. > >N. All you've done is convince me that I underestimated its >worth. It's altogether too much. NYSSA: I mean, this _and_ a set of Ginsu knives? I can't accept all this! > >D. I see your point. DOUG: (Doctor) Wear your hair differently, and it won't be so obvious! [There is another rimshot sound effect. The OTHERS look at DOUG.] DOUG: What? > Let me explain it another way. You are now a Time Lord. >Your worth as a person far outweighs the worth of a TARDIS. > >N. So the worth of any being outweighs the worth of a TARDIS. > >D. Precisely. NUMBER ONE (F): (Doctor) Except for Ted Kennedy, that is. While he might physically outweigh a TARDIS, his actual worth is somewhat less than a bagful of Skarasen droppings. DIANE: (to NUMBER ONE (F)) You do know that there are people in Massachusetts watching you right now? NUMBER ONE (F): [grins evilly and nods] Uh-huh... > >N. Because all beings have worth, the same worth. Time Lord >ethics still seem a bit murky to me, but I'm beginning to get the >flavor. NYSSA: Benevolent solipsism with a hint of caramel. > >D. Good. Now, where shall we go on your first trip? > >N. I have no idea. > DIANE: (Doctor) Well, then, may I recommend the Planet of Open-Minded Bisexual Nymphomaniac Stewardesses in Heat? NYSSA: (to DIANE) Are you going to use that one every time? DIANE: (to NYSSA) Anything for a cheap laugh. >D. Well, I tell you what. I've heard that these new models have >a sort of test drive built into them. > > (He picks up the appropriate volume of the TARDIS manual). > > D. You know, my old Type-40 only has one volume of > instructions. Documentation has gotten a bit out of hand. DOUG: What difference does that make? It's not like he would have read it either way. > >(What we have now is a permanent shelving unit built into one >of the walls, which contains dozens of various manuals.) NUMBER ONE (F): The _Kama Sutra_, the _Yin-Yang Butter- fly_, _Joy of Sex_, and the _Quake II Strategy Guide_. > >D. Here it is. (He goes over to one of the control consoles.) >Enter code 12h-hz12 into the flight computer and activate the >time circuits. > >(Nyssa does this, and her TARDIS is off on its maiden voyage. DIANE: 'Maiden', huh? So, I guess the Planet of Open-Minded Bisexual Nymphomaniac Stewardesses in Heat is a no-go. >She does not realize that this is the beginning of the imprinting >of her Amalgam and the beginning of her feeding her >experiences into the Matrix.) DIANE: Which will cause no end of embarrassment the next time she decides to 'do the two-finger tango'. [NYSSA silently gets up, walks down the row, and whaps DIANE on the head.] DIANE: Owww! [NYSSA returns to her seat.] DIANE: (to NYSSA) Oh, yeah. Like you've never done it. > >(The view screen will show a series of sights. It might be cute if > there is a running commentary relating the universe to the >wonderful attributes of the TARDIS. But maybe not... NUMBER ONE (F): It might be cute if the author would just make up his mind about what is and isn't happening. DOUG: Yeah. He's almost indecisive enough to be a Republican Senator. NUMBER ONE (F): (to DOUG) Hey, now. That's a bit harsh on Mr. Woon, don't you think? > I suppose the Time Lords' idea of a travelog would be a bit >stuffy.) > >(Eventually they return to Gallifrey.) NYSSA: Eventually, the audience returns to consciousness. > >D. That was a brief tour of the constellation of Kasterborus. DIANE: The Constellation that represents the Zodiacal Sign of the Pompous Git. >Your TARDIS has a good feel to it. > >(Nyssa has been reading through the manual and doesn't look >very happy.) DOUG: (Nyssa, angrily) What? My warranty is pro-rated? Those utter bastards! > >N. When I travelled with you eight years ago, I was just able to >fly your TARDIS a bit. This is quite a bit more complicated. > > D. But the principles are the same. I'm sure you'll pick it up > quickly. DIANE: (Doctor) If you don't, tough titty. > You may find that Gallifreyan technical jargon is less >cumbersome that you once thought. > >N. It helps that I can now read High Gallifreyan. NYSSA: Thank you, 'Hooked On Phonics'! > >D. Just don't expect miracles. NUMBER ONE (F): Man, the Doctor's a sucky motivational speaker, ain't he? > Documentation will probably always be, to some extent, a lost >art. DOUG: Especially if they are subpoenaed documents belonging to one H. Rodham-Clinton. > >N. All right, Doctor. What do I do next? > DIANE: (Doctor) How about a roll in the hay? >D. You might want to stay around Gallifrey a while longer, >studying this and that, but soon you will be expected to take your >TARDIS out solo. DIANE: Han Solo? DOUG: Napoleon Solo? NUMBER ONE (F): O solo mio? > What do you think about that? > >N. The prospect is a bit frightening. Is there anywhere I'm >supposed to go? NUMBER ONE (F): I suggest 'round the bend. DIANE: (to NUMBER ONE (F)) She could keep you company there. > >D. Not in particular, but remember to think through the advice >of the Council before you make up your mind. > >N. All right. > >D. And don't worry. I have a few suggestions. > >N. I thought you might, Doctor. DOUG: (Nyssa) ...you pompous, know-it-all creep. > > - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - > NYSSA: Suddenly, a burst of tracer rounds erupted from the North Korean trenches... > >SCENE 4: Armitage, the previous town. The inn where the >family are staying NYSSA: ...explodes for no apparent reason, killing everyone. The End. DOUG: (to NYSSA) Dream on... > >(The family is eating an evening meal, NUMBER ONE (F): ...which would be called 'supper' by some people. > set apart from the few other patrons in order to preserve their >privacy. DIANE: Snooty, aren't they? > So far, they appear to be nothing more than a family travelling >through the area. NYSSA: Little does anyone realize that the three are actually a group of film students working on the 'Armitage Witch Project'. >This scene will consist of some hints about their true purpose >and some background about the Cyberman.) NUMBER ONE (F): Ah. A warning, so that those with weak hearts or small children can leave the room during the gruesome 'talking over supper' scene. > >F. We're here, and we've already seen the Cyberman. > DOUG: (announcer) Once again, the day is saved by... _Captain Obvious_! > >M. Is he what you expected? > >F. We know what Cybermen look like: NUMBER ONE (F): Which means nothing, since they change their appearance more often than the Doctor does. > who could forget with all that they've done to terrorize the >universe? We're fortunate to live in times when their evil race >has been reduced to only one survivor. DIANE: (Father) Yup. Nothing like a little genocide to settle the mind. > >B. Father, tell me the story again. DOUG: (Father, as Andrew Dice Clay) Jack an' Jill went up da hill, each wit' a buck an' a quarter. Jill came down wit' two-fifty. > >(The father looks across at his wife with a mixture of emotions >stemming from having told the story endlessly before.) > >F. I told it to you three times on the train this morning. NYSSA: (Father) So shut yer pie-hole! > >B. You did not. You only told me some of the parts. DIANE: (little boy) I wanna hear the rude bits! >About the big war and dead planets and the alliance between the >Earth people, the Draconians, Ice Warriors and the Vogans... DOUG: (little boy) ...and the Hobbits and the Elves and the Dwarves... NYSSA: (little boy) ...and Microsoft and Apple... NUMBER ONE (F): (little boy) ...and the Tendos and Saotomes... DIANE: (little boy) ...and the Italians and whoever seems to be winning at the moment... > >F. That's enough. I'll tell you another part. > >(The narration of the story could be accompanied with flashback >footage of the past events, with some shots of the family >interspersed.) > >B. Tell me the part about the snuffing bombs. DOUG: (Father) They were invented by the RJ Reynolds Tobacco Corporation and used to get whole populations addicted to sticking shredded-up leaves in their face. > >M. I wish you wouldn't, Jonan. > DIANE: Jonan the Barbarian! >(The father doesn't hesitate.) > >F. The brilliant scientists of all the allied peoples invented a >powerful weapon called DIANE: ...the lawn dart. DOUG: ...the pointed stick. NYSSA: ...the Holy Hand Grenade of Antioch. NUMBER ONE (F): ...frivolous litigation. >the snuffing bomb, ALL: D'oh! > which spread a aurum-based virus which was deadly to >Cybermen. It was called "The Gold Bug." NUMBER ONE (F): Anybody who didn't see that one coming a mile off deserves a painful wedgie. > Snuffing bombs were used to systematically destroy all of the > Cybermen installations and ships. NYSSA: Dropping bombs on a spaceship? DOUG: [shrugs] It worked in 'Star Blazers'. Maybe this Reality uses Matsumoto physics. NUMBER ONE (F): (to DOUG, dubiously) So, you're saying that the train was the Three-Nine and this dweeby kid is Tetsuro? DOUG: Maybe. NUMBER ONE (F): (horrified) Sacrilege! Harlock forgive him, for he knows not what he says! > It happened so quickly that they were all dead before any of >them could do a thing about it. And before any of the liberals >could complain about genocide. NUMBER ONE (F): (very sarcastically) That's right. We con- servatives are _always_ up for some mass-killing. Sheesh... DIANE: (to NUMBER ONE (F)) You're a right-winger? NUMBER ONE (F): (to DIANE) Hon, where I come from, Rush Limbaugh is just another pinko Yankee tree-hugger. > >B. Why would anyone want to stop killing all the Cybermen? > >F. Ask you mother. She understands better than I do. DIANE: So Mom is the brains _and_ conscience of this little clan? > >M. It's not easy for me to understand either, dear. These people >hoped there might be some other way. NYSSA: Oh yes. Here we see the phrase that forms the ending of approximately 60% of all Fifth Doctor fanfics. >They said they were tired of the old justification for the wars >against the Cybermen, that it was kill or be killed. DOUG: (Mother) So, they came up with a new justification: Kill 'em because it's fun. > >F. The catchword in those days was "Meet mercy with mercy; >meet murder with murder." NUMBER ONE (F): Hmm... Not bad, but it'll never top "Kill 'em all and let God sort 'em out." > >M. The pacificists may have been more successful if they had >actually NYSSA: (Mother) ...known how to spell 'pacifist'. >had an alternative, Jonan. They didn't, and the governments >treated them as crackpots at best. Some planets had them shot >as traitors. NUMBER ONE (F): And, this was a bad thing? > >(The child disapproves of the philosophical tangent.) > DOUG: (little boy) Keep your Cartesian Dualism to yourself, Mom. >B. So all the Cybermen were killed except one? > >F. All but one small ship crewed by half a dozen Cybermen. It >crashed here on Armitage over 400 years ago. DIANE: (Father) ...near a small town called Roswell... > As far as we know today, three were killed in the crash and two >were destroyed by the our ancestors. The last one was seriously >hurt, but managed to escape and hide deeply in the Lyssian >caves. NYSSA: Umm, excuse me, but if they knew where he was, he wasn't really all that 'hidden', was he? > He went into some sort of healing dormancy which lasted about >150 years. When he emerged, healthy again, he found that he >was the last Cyberman to survive. > >B. Why didn't they kill him, too? > DOUG: (Father) By then, our ancestors were more enlightened and had renounced their violent ways-- NYSSA: (little boy) You mean they ran out of ammo. DOUG: (Father) You got it in one. >F. The stories say he helped save someone's life, and the people >decided to leave him alone. > >B. Why would a Cyberman save someone's life? NUMBER ONE (F): For the same reason any man would: To try and impress the chicks. > >F. That is a question a lot of people would like to know the >answer to. > [The screen fades out and the lights come back on.] HARRY (VOICE-OVER): Okay, everyone! Ten minute break! ALL: Yay! Woohoo! [All four get up and leave the theater] ---- [Door sequence: 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6...] Notes - Part Two
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