Amazon exiles discussion
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Carry On up the Amazon
...all the plates, spinning or otherwise, started rolling down the corridor."We need to rescue them - and quickly!" warned Dr Whom.
"Why?" asked Beryl.
"You don't want to know," the doctor told her.
"I think I do," Beryl replied.
"Without our stabiloscilatorlobes, we lose our defensive shield. Any time now we will be entering the Galaxy Cho-Ko-Lite meteor belt. Our time and space craft is not called The Target for no reason, you know. We will be at the mercy of countless meteors unless we can get these plates back in position, each with its rod balancing."
"Well, what are we weighting four?" asked Beryl. "Let's resqueue them plates!"
"Don't look now, but there's a huge lump of rock heading straight for us," Diana warned. Beryl, Baz and the Doctor rushed to a porthole.
"I said, don't look now," Diana said. "While you're doing that, the plates are doing a circuit of the ship. You drips!"
"Don't call us drips, you plonker," warned Dr Whom.
"Eejit," replied Beryl.
"Oh, well, if we're resorting to insults," said Diana, "I have one we used back in the Amazon when one of the Amazonian women acted in a stupid manner."
"Oh, yeah? And wot wuz that, then?" asked Beryl.
Diana took a deep inhalation of breath and said: "...
... we say, YOU ARE STUPID!!!Really? said Dr Whom. That's all you've got?
Well yes, said Diana. Didn't you notice the cacophony of capital letters and extraneous exclamation points?
Ahahahaha! laughed Beryl. Where I comes from, we calls stoopid peeples *bleep bleep bleepity bleep*!
Where I come from, said Francis, if somebody is acting inappropriately, we correct them with a swift four-footed kick in the Ass.
Where I be from, said Crocky, we just eats 'em.
Rocky said, To the dumpster!
Barry said, STUPID IS AS STUPID DOES.
Dez said, Never judge a man until you walked a mile in his shoes. And never ever judge a woman until you walked a mile in high-heels.
The Travellers bowed their heads and said, Ahem to that, brother!
After a moment of silence, Dr Whom looked at the Target's radar system and shouted, Incoming!
What is it?! cried The Travellers.
It's the Chockywockydoodah! said Dr Whom, the biggest meteorite in the Cho-Ko-Lite Galaxy, and it's heading straight for us!
Quick! shouted Diana, everybody...
... grab your space-bibs!What's a space bib? cried the others.
Let me explain, said Dr Whom, pushing her way forward.
Excuse me! retorted Diana, It was my idea.
I'm the boss of the Target, replied the Doctor self-importantly and it's my job to explain these things.
Diana huffed but reluctantly fell silent.
I don't care who explains, said Beryl with worry in her voice. The darn thing's getting nearer and we don't have much time.
Well, said Whom, You see a space-bib is used when you need to eat in space - it keeps your spacesuit clean.
I'm sure it does, said Beryl sarcastically, but this isn't exactly the time to have a snack. Why for goodness sake do we want to do that?
Ahem, replied the Doctor, Well ... you see ... it's like this ... erm. She suddenly realised she had no idea. She looked around wildly wondering what to say next. Suddenly a note of relief came into her voice.
Well of course I know the reason but since Diana mentioned it first, I think she should be allowed to explain that part, ahem, it's only fair. She looked challengingly toward Diana.
Diana sighed. It's because the Chockywockydoodah is made entirely of Cho-Ko-Lite. Apparently this substance has many amazing properties. One is that is surprisingly edible. If we can't blow it up, then we must simply eat it out of existence.
Correct, said Dr Whom, with a look of relief. My plan exactly.
But Diana, I don't understand, said a puzzled Desmond. Surely you were brought up in the Amazon? How is it that you know about space-bibs and Cho-Ko-Lite?
The Doctor jumped in.
I was telling Diana about space and time last night.
And she put two and two together, mused Beryl.
Never mind who thought of what, said Whom irritatedly. Let's get kitted up and and set off immediately.
I CAN'T HELP BUT WORRY ABOUT THIS PLAN, said Barry. I CAN'T QUITE PUT MY FINGER ON IT BUT HOW CAN IT WORK - I MEAN ...
Stop dithering! Yelled Doctor Whom. Get moving!
She pointed to a locker where the spacesuits and space bibs were stored and soon most of the crew were wearing them and experimenting with the unusual sensation of being fully enclosed.
I'm having trouble getting into this spacesuit complained Crocky. There's nowhere to put my tail.
Oh, just stuff it down one of the trouser legs, said Dr Whom dismissively. Crocky looked hurt but nevertheless did his best to comply.
From inside one of the suits came a muffled little voice. It said ...
..."Gonna die, squawk!""It's supposed to be just one person or animule inside a suit," said Beryl. "All 4 of you parrots have squeezed into that one."
"WELL, ONE'S IN THE RIGHT LEG, ONE'S IN THE LEFT, ONE'S PEERING THROUGH THE HELMET AND THE OTHER'S GETTING RID OF WASTE MATTER THROUGH THE, ER, TOILET FLAP," advised Barry.
"So, do we travel to the meteor to consume it, or do we open the Target door and let it enter?" asked Desmond.
"I think you'll find that the meteor is one hundred times larger than this spaceship," replied Whom. "Even with its larger on the inside facility, I think that we would have a job on our hands trying to squeeze that Chockywockydoodah in here."
"Do we use some sort of jet packs to travel across to the meteor?" asked Francis, who had his space suit on upside down with his hind legs in the suit arms, forelegs in the suit legs, his tail inside the helmet, and his head poking through the toileting flap.
"Jet packs?" queried Dr Whom. "I think you'll find...
... no jets packs on the Target. My old crew and I used them to escape the evil Starship Entrophywise, and I didn't have the funds to replace them.OH NO, said BARRY. WHAT HAPPENED TO THE CREW?
Well, said Dr Whom. Let's just say... er... we're out of jet packs.
So, said Diana, how do we stop the Chockywockythingamajig?
Crocky readjusted his tail to the left side of his spacesuit, coughed, and said, I be hanged if I knows.
Francis stuck his head out of his spacesuit potty-flap and said, Maybe we can melt it.
Beryl said, I can do it! I once ate a hole crate of experired Tobleronie chockolate bars and survivored!
Sir David said, I once...
Archbishop Dez said, If you give a man a chocolate bar, he will eat for one day. But, if you teach a man how to make chocolate, he will get really really fat.
The Travellers bowed their heads in a moment of silence.
Dr Whom said, I know what to do! We shall use the Target's stabiloscilatorlobe's system to demolecularize the Chockywockyzippitydoodah. Everybody... put on your spacebibs and grab a fondue fork!
And then...
... they had spent so long discussing what to do that the Chockywockydoodah hit them with an almighty splooge!Everything went dark.
After a while a shaky-voiced Rocky Raccoon said, Are we dead?
I'm not sure, said an equally shaky Beryl.
Don't panic,I think I know what's happened, said Dr Whom.
At that moment the emergency lighting came on casting a yellowish glow. It revealed a shaken crew but everyone appeared to be in good health.
WHAT HAPPENED DOCTOR? said Barry.
Open the Target door and you'll see.
Barry crossed to the door and pulled it open to reveal a solid wall of a shiny brown substance that had moulded itself to the shape of the door.
WHAT IS IT? cried Barry.
Taste it and you'll see.
Cautiously Barry leaned forward and licked the brown surface. A delighted expression lit up his face. IT TASTES WONDERFUL, he said. IT JUST MELTS ON THE TONGUE.
Just as I thought, said Whom. When we collided with the CWD, the Cho-Ko-Lite at the point of impact melted and we are now buried in the brown stuff.
Er... How deep? said Desmond, trying to hide the worry in his voice.
Oh, I'd say a couple of miles, replied the Doctor.
A silence fell. The crew looked at each other with concerned expressions.
After a while, the silence was broken by ...
... Beryl, who dove head first into the pool of browness, delicately BURPED and said, I has died and gone to chocolite hevven!Francis said, Well, there goes my diet. I'll never get my Ass back in shape!
Crocky said, Gurgle gurgle yummy gurgle.
Barry said, ALL OF MY CHOCOLITE DREAMS HAVE COME TRUE!
Diana said, I can't decide between the Almond Joys or the Mounds Bars!
Sir David said, No worries, Princess. Get both! Because sometimes you feel like a nut... sometimes you don't.
Dr Whom shouted, Stop it! Do NOT succumb to the lure of the lusciousness of The ChockyWockyYooHoos, for we will be stuck in their Milky Way for the next millennia!
And that's a problem? snickered Beryl.
Aye, wot ta lass said, said Crocky... gurgle gurgle slurp gurgle.
Gonna get fat! Gonna get fat! squawked the parrots.
Exactly! said Dr Whom. The Target can only hold so much weight, and if we overload it, we'll never get off the ground!
Brother Dez raised his chocolate-covered head and said, Tis true, my friends. According to the Book of Ravdos, as ye shall eat, so ye shall bloat.
The Travellers wiped their mouths with their spacebibs and bowed their heads in another moment of silence.
When suddenly...
...the door-shaped moulding in the brown mass in front of them started to move, and several brown-coloured heads emerged, with mouths opening and closing rhythmically. Beryl screamed."Aaah, shriek! What be they a-being?" she asked.
"They look like... worrrrrrms," replied Crocodile Dundee.
"Worms?" queried Francis. "How'd they get here? To think I've been licking this stuff!"
"We're not the only beings in this Universe you know," Dr Whom replied. "If we have been entrapped, why should it surprise you that other species have, too?"
"BUT, WORMS?" asked Bazza. "HAVE YOU EVER KNOWN AN INTELLIGENT WORM, LET ALONE ONE THAT WAS ABLE TO BUILD ITS OWN SPACE SHIP?"
"Can't say ah've ever had a conversation wi' one afore," Crocky advised, "but ah've certainly made theer aquaintance - in mah digestive tract."
"Euw!" gasped Diana, staring at the opening and closing mouth of the nearest creature. "And I can't say that I want to start a conversation with one now!"
"Might there be any other species entombed within the Chockywockydoodah?" asked Rocky.
"The Good Book only acknowledges the Creation and what was made to live on the land, in the sea and in the air - not within chocolate," advised a solemn Archbishop Desmond. The Travellers stopped looking at the emerging worms and bowed their heads in another moment of silence.
"WELL, WHAT ABOUT THE BAD BOOK?" asked Baz. "HOW MANY CRITTURS ARE MENTIONED IN THERE?"
"Better run!" squawked Gusto. "All t'worms will 'ave etten thee!"
"Aye, he's right!" squealed Beryl. "On Ilkley Moor bah't space 'elmet!"
For some strange and inexplicable reason, all the travellers suddenly started speaking in tongues of Yorkshire dialect.
"Aye, that Chok-O Lite's reet champion," said Rocky.
"Tha ought to put wood in th'ole," said Francis, "or them worm boogahs'll be in t'Target, you mark my words, lass."
"Aye, tha's not wrong," said the Doctor. "Get thissen inside 'cos ah'm shuttin up t'shop."
"WHY THE SUDDEN YORKSHIRE-SPAKE, LASS?" asked Baz. "AH'VE NE'ER BIN T'BARNSLEY IN ME LIFE."
"Well," explained Dr Whom, "ah reckon...
... wots happnin' 'ere is, the Chockywockypuddingworms ha' slithered tha' way inta our heeds, an' now we all ha' Yorkshire Earworms! Oh nay, said Francis. Is tha' why I canna stop singin' Beatle songs?!
Beryl laughed at Francis and said, That's the worsted Englerish axscent I has ever heard!
Alas, said Sir David, the Ass is right. I once filmed an award-winning documentary on the effects of British culture on Americans and found that they are obsessed with Beatle songs, over-priced chocolate, Royal gossip, and unusual foodstuffs. Just the word "pudding" will send them into eternal bliss. For example:
Yorkshire Pudding
From Wikipuddingpedia
Yorkshire pudding is a common English side dish consisting of a baked pudding made from batter consisting of eggs, flour, and milk or water. It is a versatile food that can be served in numerous ways depending on the choice of ingredients, the size of the pudding, and the accompanying components of the dish. As a first course, it can be served with onion gravy. For a main course, it may be served with beef and gravy, and is part of the traditional Sunday roast, but can also be filled with foods, such as bangers and mash to make a meal.
Oooh, pudding! said The Travellers.
See? said Sir David.
Dr Whom finished her 3rd rendition of HEY JUDE and said, How do we get rid o' them?!
Sir David said, I don't know how to HELP this situation. Somebody interrupted me before I could...
I be havin' an idear, said Reverend Desmond. Why doona we dunks our heeds in tha' bucket o' water wit the holes innit?
Listen up! said Diana. It's been A HARD DAY'S NIGHT, so I tink tis worth ta' try, as she grabbed a holey bucket of water. On ta count o' tree, everybody dunk!
Suddenly...
...we should try Riding t'Target outa here.""Would that be East, West or South Riding?" asked Beryl.
"Shut tha cake'ole and let's try all o' 'em," suggested Francis. "Just so long as tha gets us awa' from this Chockywockydoodah faster than a whippet out of its gate."
"WHAT A LOAD O' TRIPE," said Baz.
"Tripe? Where?" asked Crocky.
"Get thissen awa' from the doors, and don tha flat caps," ordered Dr Whom. "Tha dun want te catch tha death o' code."
"Aye," replied Diana. "Tha spakes sense, lass, an' tha sounds just like...
Suddenly, the roar of the Target's engines kicked in, and the Travellers rid themselves of the Chockywockyzippitydoodah's hold. Thank the goodness, said Beryl. We finerally gets to speek good Englerish again!
So, said Diana. Where shall we go next? We still haven't de-programmed Brother Dez.
Desmond smiled beatifically and said, Bless you my child.
WHO SNEEZED? asked Barry
Dr Whom said, I heard a rumor that there's a planet on the far side of the universe whose healing powers are renowned throughout the galaxies. I also heard that there may be a map that shows us the way.
I've heard that rumor too, said Sir David. But isn't that just a myth? I've filmed many mythologies and...
Myth Shmyth! said Rocky. Let's go! I'll be dammed if I spend one more minute listening to that royal reverent pain in the ass!
Hey! said Francis.
Not you! said Rocky. The other pain in the ass.
Bless you again, said Brother Desmond.
THANK YOU, said Barry, as he wiped his nose with his handkerchief.
So, said Diana. Where can we find this map?
Well, said Dr Whom. It's a bit of a problem because...
.. the map is apparently kept on the planet itself.What? The map to find the planet is kept on the planet? That's just stoopid!
Not necessarily, mused Diana. Maybe they don't want to be found. Um, let's face it, if it's so wonderful everyone would want to go there - overpopulation etc...
...with insufficient food available.""THEN LET'S GET THERE BEFORE THE FOOD RUNS OUT," suggested Baz. "BOOGAH A MAP, LET'S JUST FOLLOW OUR NOSES."
"Och! That would require an awfy long nose, hen. Even longer than mine," exclaimed Crocky.
"There is another way," Dr Whom advised, "we could always use the Target's Bat Nav system.
"Huh?" queried Beryl. "Doncha mean Sat Nav?"
"No, I mean Bat Nav. No satellite has ever ventured where we've got to go. Bat Nav works by sending sonic pulses through space. Then, somebody with very large ears needs to don the headphones and keep their lug'oles pinned back for any sound to be pinged back again."
Everybody automatically looked at Francis.
"Why me?" the mule asked. "Why, I'm...
... still recovering from trying to get into that pesky spacesuit. I'm damn sure your human headphones aren't going to fit me. I have a much better idea, said Desmond, Nothing beats the power of prayer.
He knelt on the floor and pressed his hands together.
Let us pray...
Whoa! broke in Frances. Before we start praying I just need to check. Do we animals go to heaven after we die or is praying a pointless activity for us?
Well, replied Des, it's like this...
... when animals die, said Brother Desmond, they must stand before the Pearl Collar Gates, where they will be judged by Saint Pollywannacracker, who will ask them, Who's a good boy? Who's a pretty girl? If they are deemed worthy, they may enter the Great Petting Zoo in the Sky, where they will frollic with the angels for all eternity. If not, they will be reincarnated as a lesser being, such as a ant or a human, and must start anew. Now, everybody bow their heads and let us spay.Gee, said Crocky. Can crocks go too?
Well, grinned Beryl. I dont sees why not. Yous are such an aminal!
Enough! said Dr Whom. "Brother" Desmond is off his holy rocker. There's no such thing as the Great Petting Zoo in the Sky!
Actually, said Sir David....
While everyone was arguing, Francis put on the giant headphones and tuned into Bat Nav. Hey! he said. I think I hear something...
...He flicked a switch on the headphones and the sound immediately came out of speakers throughout the Target:"*crackle* This is Major John to *crackle, buzz* Ground Control,
I'm stepping through the door *crackle, buzz*, and I'm floating in a most peculiar way, and the stars look very different today *crackle, crackle*."
"Blingin' Nora!" exclaimed Beryl, "you've tuned into Radio Fun's 'Space Oddsbody'."
"Or, it might actually be Major John," Sir David pointed out. "Why, I remember making a supportive, award-winning video to go with the release of 'Space Oddsbody', many years ago..." The speaker continued to crackle into life with a voice that sounded light years away:
"For here am I sitting in a tin can, far above the world.
Planet Dearth is blue and there's nothing I can do *crackle buzz*."
The travelling crew all started to sing along to the words that were familiar:
"Though I'm past one hundred thousand miles, I'm feeling very still, and I think my spaceship knows which way to go - tell my wife I love her very much you know."
By now, the crew were standing with arms or paws around each other and swaying along to the sound of the lone voice coming through the speaker. Francis spoke through the microphone attached to the headphones:
"Ground Control to Major John, your circuit's dead, there's something wrong. Can you hear me, Major John? Can you hear me, Major John? Can you hear me, Major John? Can you..."
The lone voice replied:
"Here am I floating round my tin can, far above the 12 Moons.
Planet Dearth is blue and there's nothing I can do."
Francis repeated:
"Can you hear me, Major John? Can you hear me, Major John? Can you hear me, Major John? Can you... for naff's sake, Major John, bliddy-well reply!"
Only crackles came from the speakers, but then came the following voice...
..."Well, pap-peckers, Tony Bannockburn here. Sounds like that's the end of Major John with his Space Oddsbody. Shame, really, we were looking forward to him returning to Planet Dearth. Well, in the meantime, while we check the situation out before writing him off for good, let's hear from Sarah Brightstar and Hot Glossop with 'I Lost my Scart to a Starship Trooper'.""WELL, I NEVER," said Bazza, "I HAVEN'T HEARD THIS FOR AGES!"
The speakers crackled again before giving out the following:
"*crackle, crackle* I lost my scart to a starship trooper, flashing lights in hyperspace. Fighting for the Confederation, hand in hand we'll conquer space."
"Think I've heard of Sarah Brightstar," said Beryl. "Wasn't she connected to 'The Pantomime of the Co-opera'?"
"Yes, she was," Diana replied. "We've even heard of her in the Amazon."
"Oh, no she wasn't," shouted Rocky and Crocky together.
"Yes, she was," argued Diana.
"Oh, no she wasn't," shouted Rocky, Crocky, Francis, and the parrots all together.
"She's behind you," advised Desmond. Everyone spun round to see that the Target had projected a 3-dimensional holograph of Sarah Brightstar into the area behind them. She was apparently inserting a disc of some description into a port on a short, round droid that had arms and legs, and saying:
"This disc must reach number one, Rusty-Bhin. Make sure it gets to Oh-Bee-Swan *crackle* This disc must reach number one, Rusty-Bhin. Make sure it gets to Oh-Bee-Swan *crackle*" and it continued to repeat until Crocky gave the projector a whack with his tail.
"Wow, I seem to remember a similar scenario in an award-winning film I acted as consultant on a good few years ago," said Sir David.
"SHOULD WE GO LOOKING FOR THE DROID TO MAKE SURE SARAH'S DISC REACHES NUMBER ONE?" asked Bazza.
"Well," replied Diana, "I think...
... it may be a diversion to lull us into singing old cool space songs and forgetting our mission. Either that, or it may be a clue!A clue! gasped The Travellers. A clue to what?
It's possible, mused Diana, that the hologram of Sarah Brightstar is telling us to find the droid Rusty-Bhin, who may hold the map to the planet we're looking for, and if we can get the map to Oh-Bee-Swan-Canoodle, he may lead us straight to it!
AND THEN WE CAN FIX DEZ AND GO HOME? asked Barry.
Let's do it! said Dr Whom. Francis, put those headphones on and turn up the Bat Nav! Crocky, be prepared to give it another thwack! Beryl, stop mooning over Major John and make yourself useful! Desmond, get out of those frocks and put your spacesuit back on! We're firing up The Target and going to the far side of the universe!
Brother Desmond bowed his head and said, May the stars shine upon us, and the wind be in our sails.
WIND? said Barry. WHO FARTED?
And then...
... the parrots all started shouting, "Gonna die, gonna die!"One by one they fell silent and keeled over, landing flat on their backs.
WHAT'S HAPPENING? said Barry in a panic.
Diana spoke up. Birds are always the first to go unconscious when dangerous fumes are around. That smell must be some kind of noxious gas.
Quick, said Whom, everybody get their spacesuits back on again. That way we can breathe safely.
There was a collective groan.
Not that again, sighed Frances. I don't think a spacesuit will help me much - not with my head stuck out of its potty-flap.
Let me think, said Sir David, and he pulled a pipe out of his pocket and proceeded to light it.
STOP! shouted everyone, but it was too late. As soon as Sir D. thumbed his lighter ...
...the flame from it was sucked up in a kind of backward explosion, into the Target's Hologram projector."Thank heavens for that," said Desmond. "I was expecting some kind of cataclysmic bang that would blow our time- and space-craft asunder. Strange to see the flame acting in reverse, like tongues of fire searching for the foreheads of spiritual acolytes."
"In reverse ye say?" replied Crocky. "Och, ah can fix that wi' a simple swipe o' me tail, hen." With that he swung his large, knobbly tail back as far as it would reach.
"Nooooooooooooooo!" yelled Dr Whom, trying to stop him, but it was too late...
...the flame from it was sucked up in a kind of backward explosion, into the Target's Hologram projector."Thank heavens for that," said Desmond. "I was expecting some kind of cataclysmic bang that would blow our time- and space-craft asunder. Strange to see the flame acting in reverse, like tongues of fire searching for the foreheads of spiritual acolytes."
"In reverse ye say?" replied Crocky. "Och, ah can fix that wi' a simple swipe o' me tail, hen." With that, he swung back his large, knobbly tail as far as it would reach.
"Nooooooooooooooo!" yelled Dr Whom, trying to stop him, but it was too late...
...Crocky's tail thwacked the hologram projector with a sickening crunch and the flame from the lighter that had been swallowed lock, stock and flicker shot back out again, searching for the source of the noxious fumes. As if alive, or powered by some strange fuel, it danced around the corridor of the Target. Then, having found what it was after, and with a roaring flash, it...
... roared and flashed and fizzled out in a puff of smoke and a cloud of ash.LOOK, said Barry. THE ASH HAS FORMED A PERFECT CIRCLE AROUND ONE OF THE BUTTONS ON THE TARGET'S CONSOLE.
Maybe that means we should press it, said Diana. Doctor, what does that button do?
Erm... Actually I don't know, admitted the doctor. I've often wondered, but it is not shown in the User Manual and I have never dared to try it out in case it does something bad.
Interesting, mused Sir David. Why this reminds me of the time when ...
Gotta press it! Gotta press it! squawked the parrots excitedly.
Dr Whom's finger wavered above the ash-encircled button."Hmmm," she said, "what would my pesky Time Lord hubby do in this predicament?" she said out loud.
"Why don't you ask him?" Diana queried. "Don't you have ship-to-ship communication?"
"I'm not contacting him as soon as I run into a complex, time-challenging conundrum that could lead to all of our deaths," Dr Whom replied. "I don't wish to see his smug face - I won't give him the satisfaction."
"Then let's just DO IT!" said Beryl, and with that she leant over and pressed Dr Whom's finger down onto the button.
The centre console of The Target glowed brightly, then seemed to split in twain. Baz looked around, and all the travellers equally were shimmering and juddering, and appeared to be standing next to dopplegangers of themselves.
"HEY... HEY. DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON, BUT... DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON, BUT... I CAN SEE TWO OF EVERYONE... I CAN SEE TWO OF EVERYONE... EXCEPT THE PARROTS, 'COS THERE'RE 8 OF THEM! EXCEPT THE PARROTS, 'COS THERE'RE 8 OF THEM!"
"Don't look now," said Francis no1, and "Don't look now," said Francis no2, "but the ship is moving again... but the ship is moving again... and fast!... and fast!"
"Och! Och! Stop repeating yerself, hen," complained Crocky, "Stop repeating yerself, hen."
"What's happening to us?" asked Rocky no 1, with an alarmed look on one of his faces. "What's happening to us?" echoed no 2.
"Well, well..." Sir David started to explain, "I remember... remember...
...my award-winning, winning, doppel-doppelganger documentary-ary that-""Don't think any-anybody else. else did, though, though, Davy-boy-boy," said one of the Beryls, and echoed by the other one.
The glow from the Target died down, the juddering ceased and it entered warp speed. The doppelgangers seemed to merge back into their owners, and single speech reined once more.
"COR, THANK HEAVENS FOR THAT," said Baz, "TWO CROCKIES AND TWO BERYLS WAS MORE THAN I COULD BEAR!"
"Och, awa' wi' ye!" retaliated Crocky.
"Cheeky varmint!" screeched Beryl.
"ONLY JOKING" advised Baz.
"It's only our speed that's meant to be warped, not your sense of humour," Dr Whom said.
"Will warp speed bend the ship out of shape?" asked Francis.
"Gonna die! Gonna die!" squawked Gusto.
"The stars look very different, todaaaa-aa-aa-ay," sang Diana, gazing through the window.
"Streaky patterns, man, it's sort of... psychedelic..." Rocky said in a soft lilt.
"All is wondrous in the heavens," said Archbishop Desmond, then all bowed their heads for a moment to consider what he had said.
The ship suddenly lurched, and slowed as rapidly as it had accelerated.
"We've arrived!" advised the Doctor.
"Where?" asked Francis.
The Doctor took a look through one of the portholes and said...
... hell if I know.Francis checked the Bat Scan and said, It registers as inhabited, but there are no lifeforms on the surface.
That's odd, said Diana. I wonder where they are?
Dr Whom groaned and said, I know this planet. When I was married to that lying, cheating , soul-sucking, barely human, lump of steaming excrement I once called my husband, he had to have a mole removed, so we hopped into the Target to see a specialist. But when we got there, the doctors wanted to remove my husband and keep the mole!
OH NO, said Barry. I HOPE YOU DIDN'T LET THEM.
Unfortunately no, grumbled Dr Whom. I needed the little, hope he boils in a cauldron of flaming oil, son of a flesh eating bastido to run the Bat Nav so we could get out of there.
So, said Crocky. Tis this where we be then? An shoodna we be leavin as quick as a roo?
I do hope this isn't the same place, said Sir David. Because...
Me neether, said Beryl. When I workt at ASDA, we ran a speshull on mole removal. Have one mole removered, remover anuther one for free. Constumers were lining up until they reelized they had to go to anuther planet, and all surgerical proseedures were purformed underground.
OH NO, said Barry. I HOPE YOU DIDN'T LET THEM.
Who cares?! said Dr. Whom. We're in serious danger here! Don't you know where we are? This is the infamous planet Guack, where those who enter are never seen or heard from again. We must get out of it's orbit before we get sucked underground by the Mole People!
Holy Guackamoley! said Diana. Fire up the thrusters and full speed ahead!
Archbishop Desmond folded his hands and said, And the holiest of moleys shall inherit the planet Guack, and may the good lord spread his mildly spicy goodness throughout the universe.
The Travellers bowed their heads in a moment of silence, contemplating large platters of nachos, dripping with melted cheese and a side of sour cream.
Suddenly...
...and unnoticed by Francis who was keeping watch through one of the portholes, a Moley stuck its head from out of an underground tunnel - and snuffled, loudly. Nearby, another Moley also stuck its head in the air from a burrow. Then two more appeared, followed by another five. Then more heads emerged, followed by more and more - all of whom snuffled, which seemed to draw out even more."Can you see anything, Francis?" asked Diana. "If all's quiet, I might go for a shower."
"No. I think you're safe to go for a soak. Just don't use my loofah, please."
"He-haw lways says that when he's not really looking!" squawked Mackey the macaw. "Screech! Look again, you ass."
Francis peered through the porthole again and said...
... Has anyone got a mallet? ...
Of course not, said Dr Whom. We've got the most advanced Space/Time Continuum Starship in all of the known galaxies. Why would we possibly need a mallet?Because, said Francis, as he stuck his head out of the bottom flap in his spacesuit to look out the porthole again. We're about to be overrun by a hoard of angry Moleys!
Rocky threw down his backpack and said, No worries, people. I've got a whole bagfull of mallets!
As the Travellers each grabbed one, Beryl said, I dont meen to be rood, but why do yoo have a hole bag full of mallards?
Well, said Rocky. When I was just a wee rodent, my mum always told me you can never have enough mallets. Or clocks. Or clean underwear. Or...
Man the mallards! shouted Diana. The Moleys are coming!
Man the what?! cried the Travellers.
I said, said Diana. Man the mallets!
Actually, said Sir David. You said man the mallards.
Why would I say man the mallards? asked Diana.
I LOVE MALLO BARS, said Barry.
Och, said Crocky. I doona care if we hits em wit mallets, mallards, marshmallows, or me Aunt Mary. Let's git oota here!
I agree with the croc! said Dr Whom. She fired up the Target and was just about to shift into HyperSpeed when...
...the mother of all Moleys draped itself around the Target - and snuffled. Through thought transferance, a message was broadcast through the Target's speakers."I am Mudder Macree Moley, and we invite our visitors to partake in a little Holy Moley Hospitality. So, turn off your engines, before I squeeze the life out of them."
"BEST DO AS SHE SAYS, I RECKON," said a worried Baz. "WONDER WHAT THIS 'HOSPITALITY' ENTAILS?"
"But, but, I don't speak 'snufflish'," warned Francis. "Can anybody here speak it?"
"Och, awa' wi' ye, hen," replied Crocky. "We all do - when we've got a code ib de nose."
"Anyone got the beginnings of a cold, then?" asked Diana.
The group of travellers looked at each other, and Sir David said...
... Funny you should ask that. I remember having the beginnings of a cold once when I was filming the lemurs in Madagascar, however ...
..at the sound of my first sneeze, I scared them all away, and that was that. Lesson learnt, never try filming when you have the snuffles.""I wonse had a kittern called 'Snuffles'," Beryl told them. "She was a little tabby, but one day she...
... she tole me she didnt like the name Snuffles and askt me to change it so I...Wait, said Dr Whom. Do you mean to tell us that you can talk to cats?
Of corse, huffed Beryl. I do have a digree from the Catatonic Skool of Cat Whispererers, you know! Anyways, I thot about her new name, and becuz she had the softerest furr I desided to call her...
FLUFFY? asked Barry
Floofy? asked Rocky
Fuzzy? asked Sir David
Furball? asked Dr Whom
Princess Purrsalot? asked Diana
Saint Fatima Felini? asked Archbishop Desmond.
Lunch? asked Crocky.
No! said Beryl, as she glared at Crocky. Her new name is Supercatafragilisticexpicatadoscious.
WOW, said Barry. ISN'T THAT HARD TO PRONOUNCE?
A bit, said Beryl. So I just call her Doh!
Not surprised, mumbled Dr Whom.
Unfortunately, while the Travellers were pondering Beryl's hidden talents and odd choice for a cat name, the Moleys caught the Target in a tractor beam and were towing them to their planet!
THAT'S A 1960s MASSEY FERGUSON! shouted Barry excitedly.What are you talking about?
THAT TRACTOR, THE ONE THAT'S PULLING US WITH A BEAM - IT'S A MASSEY FERGUSON FROM THE 1960s. I DIDN'T KNOW TRACTORS COULD GO INTO SPACE!
Hmm, said Who, I suspect ...
...it must be difficult to get spares for it out here, and who do they use to repair punctures?""There's a large, bright yellow ship moored just behind the tractor, Doctor," advised Francis. "It has 'AA-is-at your service' written on the side. I can just make out smaller writing, which appears to say 'Agricultural Assistance in space - at your service.' I wonder if the Moleys have paid their annual membership fee?"
"Well, I don't," Doctor Whom replied. "I prefer to trust the Target's maintenance to...
... the Association of Space Services on my home planet of Whomiter. Whenever I plan a trip, I know I can always rely on my ASS to get me where I want to go.That's what my Mum always says! said Frances.
You're named after a planet? asked Rocky.
Of course not, snapped Dr Whom. The planet was named after ME!
I WONDER HOW OLD SHE IS, whispered Barry.
She duzznt look a day over fore hunnered and therty two, said Beryl.
Thank you, my dear! beamed Dr Whom. I always knew you were a bright one! It's my daily beauty regiment I always follow before, during, and after inter-dimensional space/time travel, and I've been told I look centuries younger! All I do is...
Oh pulleeze! said Mudder Macree broadcasting from Holy Moley. Apparently, you don't have any mirrors on Whomiter!
Oh really?! said Dr Whom. Just wait til we get down there and I'll kick the holy moley right out of you!
Ruh roh, said Crocky. Ta shiitake's hit ta fan anow.
I LOVE MUSHROOMS, said Barry.
Gonna fry! Gonna fry! squawked the parrots.
Suddenly...
...the giant Moley, Mudder Macree, released her grip on the hull of The Target, and the ship shuddered as it landed on the surface of the Planet Guack. From craters and holes all around there emerged small Moleys who fired fine filaments of carbon fibre over, across and around The Target, securing it like a trussed-up turkey to prevent its escape."T'be sure, whoi don't ye all come on out here to be experiencin' a bit o' Guackamoley hospitality?" boomed Mudder Macree.
"Should we go?" asked Francis, through the potty-flap in his space suit.
"After you," Beryl replied. "Then you can tell us what it's like out there."
"Gonna die! Gonna die! Poke in the eye!" squawked the 4 parrots, together.
"CROCKY'S THE ONE WITH THE IN-BUILT ARMOUR," Baz told them. "PERHAPS HE OUGHT TO BE THE ONE TO GO FIRST."
"Good idea," agreed Diana. "He could wear his dress Tam O'Shanter and sporran. What a pity he has no bagpipes - they would most likely hypnotise the creatures."
"Or rupture their eardrums," said Rocky.
"Bagpipes?" replied Doctor Whom. "Strange you should say that. Why, in my miscellaneous items store, I have...
... a bagpipe kit - at least I think that's what it is. Unfortunately the instructions are missing so I've never worked out how to build it. The problem is that there are all sorts of pipes and bags and other bits and pieces and I have no idea what goes where.SURELY WE CAN STICK IT TOGETHER SOMEHOW, boomed Barry. LET'S HAVE A LOOK.
Whom directed him to a cupboard and he took out a surprisingly large and heavy box.
LET'S GET STARTED! he crowed enthusiastically. HAS ANYONE GOT A KNIFE?
You are joking, said Diana who, as always had multiple weapons secreted about her person. How about this?
BLIMEY, said Baz, NOW THAT'S WHAT I CALL A KNIFE! He cut open the box and dumped the contents on the floor.
LET'S SEE, THIS COULD FIT ON THERE ...
Two hours later, and with enough bits left over to make a respectable sporran, he had assembled something that looked even weirder than a normal set of bagpipes. He held it at arms' length and examined it appreciatively. THAT'LL DO IT! he exclaimed.
Come on then, let's hear you play it ... er, them, said Diana.
I'M NOT SURE WHERE TO BLOW, OR EVEN IF I'M SUPPOSED TO BLOW, was the reply.
Cautiously he placed a random pipe to his lips and took a deep breath.
As he proceeded to blow, something very unexpected happened ...
... as Barry played his makeshift bagpipes, all of the Moleys on Planet Guac kicked off their moleskin slippers and started to spin and twirl, twirl and spin! They danced and danced until Mudder Macree shouted, What sorcery is this?! Dr Whom said, Don't know. Don't care. Keep on blowing, Baz!
OKAY, said Barry. He took a very deep breath and blew into the bagpipes, and the carbon filaments surrounding the Target dissolved into a fine mist.
Go for it, Barry! shouted Diana.
OKAY, said Barry. He took another deep breath and blew into the bagpipes, and the Target was released from the 1960's Massey Ferguson tractor beam.
A bonny geed job! shouted Crocky. One mo time and we be free!
OKAY, gasped Barry. He took another really deep breath and... passed out.
So close, sighed Frances, as the Moleys once again surrounded the Travellers.
I knew this wouldn't work, said Sir David. Because I once...
While Barry was still hyper-ventilating, Beryl grabbed the bagpipes from under his prone body, thwacked Sir David on his forehead, and said, Shutt it!
Wait! said Mudder Macree as she looked over Beryl. You are a fierce warrior, yes?
Well, said Beryl. I wuz the head casheer at ASDA and next in line for a promoshun, as soon as I elimernated the comptetition.
All hail Beryl! cried Mother Macree. The new Queen of Planet Guacamole!
Then all of the Travellers groaned at the unexpected pronouncement, except for Barry who said, YAY!
But...
..."Have I gotta be coronated to be Queenie?" Beryl asked."Of course," Mudder Macree told her, "and my, what a ceremony it is - although we haven't had one for about 80 aeons, so nobody can remember the last one we had, or what we've got to do. Still, never mind, it should be recorded in the Royal Scrolls, yes, I've got the Scrolls," the huge Moley advised, giving herself a scratch.
"Oh, so that means I should be able to choice meself my own coronating serrymonnay, shouldn't I?"
"Er, isn't it time to be flee... I mean, setting off on a little journey, seeing as how the bagpipes have melted the bonds on The Target?" Dr Whom suggested.
"Don't think so," Beryl snapped, "and miss my coronating?"
"Squawk! Leave her here! Ditch the biddy!" screeched Mackey.
"The Crown, or the stars?" Diana asked her.
"Oo, that's a tuffie," Beryl replied. "But you know, I think...
... I DO want to be a Kween! said Beryl. Its a hole lot betterer than working at ASDA!Not so fast, said Mudder Macree as she flipped through the pages of the Royal Scrolls and found the Rules of Coronation. For it is written that you must pass three feats of bravery to prove you are worthy to be the new Queen of Gauckamole.
Three feets! said Beryl. How can I preform three feets when I only has two of them?
Poor little biped, laughed Francis. I myself have four feets. Maybe I can be Queen!
Alas, said Crocky. I canna be ta Queen because alls I got is me flippers.
Sir David sighed and said, Haven't you people ever heard of homonyms?
I LOVE HONEYBUNS, said Barry.
I'm a bit peckish too, said Princess Diana. I could go for some homefries myself right now.
Yum! said Rocky. I'll have a double hamburger, raw please, with extra onions and lots of mayo!
Brother Desmond crossed himself and said, The Holey Bibble is FULL of wonderful homilies!
*Idiots, thought Dr Whom. I'm travelling through time and space with a bunch of idiots*
Homonyms! shouted Sir David (and for once no one interrupted him). I said homonyms, when two words sound the same but have different meanings!
Oh, said Beryl. You meen like feat and feet?
Exactly, said Sir David wiping his brow. I'm sorry I shouted but...
Gots it! said Beryl. She turned to Mudder Macree and said, I'm reddy to be your noo Kween. Now, which foot shood I puts in first?
*Idiots, thought Mudder. These people are all idiots*
Alright then, said Mudder Macree. We shall begin. First, you must...
... dig yourself under ground, turn, stick your head out, and recite, from memory, the entire works of Molespeare our greatest poet and playwright.That sounds tuff, said Beryl, I mite as well giv up the idear rite now.
Nonsense, snorted Diana, don't be so feeble, if you'd been brought up by Amazons like wot I was, you'd be a bit tougher than that!
Butt ...
But me no buts, said Diana, gird up your loins and get stuck in.
Do wot to me witch? said Beryl, I don't even wear a gurdle and, as four the the other bit ...
Whom sighed. Before we continue this conversation, wouldn't it make more sense to find out how much poetry and how many plays Molespeare actually wrote?
GOOD IDEA, boomed Barry.
All looked expectantly at Mudder Macree.
What you all lookin' at? she said.
Well ... how much poetry and plays did Molespeare write?
Oh, I see. Well he wrote one poem and one play but he didn't quite finish that. You see he was digging an ambitious new tunnel and it fell in on him and squashed him. She looked downward in sad meditation.
That sound orlright, said Beryl, cheering up immediately. Then, seeing Mudder Macree's scowl, she quickly continued.
Oh no, she said hurriedly, I didn't mean that about the famus Moley spear - I ment it woz orlright for me 'cos I won't have to learn so much.
At this point ...
...Beryl said, I'll do it! She spent the next 3 days studying the ancient writings of the renowned yet short-lived Molespeare, and then she began:Ham Omelette, by Willie Molespeare
To bee or not to bee
That is the question
Is it worth being stung
By love's indigestion?
To bee or not to bee
By dawn's early light
Should we stay and partake
Or must we take flight?
For honey, so golden
Atop eggs and ham bake
Can give us both joy
And a painful tooth ache
I think of my cousin
Who passed with no money
Alas, my poor Yorick
Spent it all on sweet honey
To bee or not to bee
To thine own self be true
I shall tell you the secret
Listen closely and ...
Hey! The tunnel is collapsing! And I haven't finished my po...
*splat!*
Then poor Yorick laughed
And took all Willie's money
For he did not die
He just wanted more honey!
The End.
Beryl finished her recital and looked around the room expectantly. Howz that? she asked Mudder Macree.
Mudder wiped a tear from her eye and said, Perfection, my dear. You have passed the first feat of bravery.
WHAT ABOUT THE PLAY? whispered Barry.
No need, said Mudder. We tamed those shrews eons ago. Now, on to the second feat of bravery! This time, Beryl must...
... eat the Dreaded Disgusting Dish of the Day.Ooer, said Beryl, that doesn't sound so good.
What makes it so disgusting? asked Sir David.
Well, promise you won't throw up?
As if I would, replied Sir D. proudly. Why, I am a hardened documentary maker. I've see more horrible sights that you've had hot dinners so to speak. Why, I remember the time in 1973 when ...
Now then! interrupted Diana hastily. I think one horrible disclosure at a time is quite enough. Go on Mudder Macree, we're ready.
Well, you have been warned, was the reply, you see the dish contains ... gulp ... this thing called ..., She lowered her voice to a whisper, It's called ... chocolate!!
Mudder Macree paused to look around, expecting disgusted expressions and gasps of dismay.
There was silence for a moment then the canny Doctor Whom stepped in.
Oh dear, she said, That sounds awful. She kicked Barry who looked as though he was about to argue.
And, she continued, Is this er chocolate a brownish sort of colour and very sweet?
You've heard of it? said Macree. Yes that's the stuff. I'm really sorry, she said to Beryl, but it's part of the rites.
Noticing a fierce glare from Whom, Beryl said, Oh yes, it sounds absolutely dreadful but never mind I'll grin and bear it.
So be it! said Mudder and clapped her paws. Bring in the Dreaded Disgusting Dish of the Day!!
Two moles in ceremonial robes entered carrying between them what appeared to be a bucket.
IS THAT THE CHOCOLATE? said Barry.
Oh no, said Mudder Macree, We haven't added the dreaded chocolate yet. That is a bucket of delicious worms. As you will soon find out now that you are staying, moles' favourite dish is worms and we never have a meal without them; curried, fried, you name it.
Bring on the chocolate! shouted Mudder Macree.
A large mole, wearing protective goggles, a breathing mask, and industrial gloves came in. He was carrying at arms' length a large tin of cocoa powder. Gingerly he took the top off and proceeded to sprinkle it over the still wriggling mass of worms and stir it well in with a wooden spoon he had retrieved from his belt.
Now, to pass the test you must eat the lot, said Mudder Macree. The saving grace is that the delicious worms will at least take a way some of the revolting taste of the chocolate.
Beryl peered into the bucket ...
... and as hers eyes lit up with excitement, she grabbed the ceremonial spoon from the nearest molion and took a big bite of the Dreaded Disgusting Dish of the Day.Yum! moaned Beryl as she shoveled in mouthful after mouthful.
What did you say, dear? asked Mudder Macree.
Oh! said Beryl, as she realized her faux pas. I meen Yuck! This shtuff is reely disgustering! Then she dove back in for another bite.
The Travellers stood aghast as Beryl quickly polished off the entire meal, while Francis tried to revive Princess Diana who had fainted at the first sight of the squirming squigglies, and Sir David considered sharing his thoughts about the documentary he once made about The Proper Way to Serve Insects in the Wild, but smartly decided it wasn't the appropriate time.
When the bucket of chocolate-covered worms was empty, Beryl wiped her mouth with a lacy moleskin napkin, delicately BURRRPPPED!, turned to Mother Macree and said, Howz that?
Amazing! said Mudder. No one has EVER been able to tolerate the Dreadful Disgusting Dish of the Day! We shall begin the third and final Feat of Bravery, right after luncheon.
While the Moleys were trying to decide whether they should get the McMoland's Twofer Deal (Buy one Bugburger, get another Bugburger for free) or the Super-Sized Scorpion Special, with a side of flies and a small vanilla snake, Dr Whom pulled Beryl aside and whispered, How did you DO that?
It waznt eezy! said Beryl. That wuz the worsted chockolate I ever had! When I wuz a child growning up on my fambly's farm, my Great Grammar Byrel wuz famoused for her delishush home-cooked meels. Every Sunnyday, all of my relertives gatherered around her picinic table and feested on BBQ'd Worms, Worm Salad, Worms on the Cob, Worm Merangue Pie, and a big jug of Moonshine Wormitas, with those little umberellas on top. And everey yeer on my berthday, my Great Grammar made a chockolate frosted worm cake just for me!
Once again, the Travellers stood aghast. Both Princess Diana and Barry fainted. Francis gave up trying to revive them. Brother Desmond administered last rites. Sir David wished he had his camera crew because nobody would believe this. And Crocky thought, I got's ta marry tha womman!
After lunch, Mudder Macree called the assembly back and said, Congratulations! Beryl has passed the first and second Feats of Bravery! and all of the Moleys cheered. But now, she must face her worst fears, for the third and final test, if she survives, will prove once and for all that she is truly worthy to be our new Queen!
Suddenly, angry dark clouds rolled over Planet Guack completely obliterating the sun. Peals of thunder boomed over-head causing the very ground they stood on to rumble, while really scary bolts of white lightning shot through the skies.
Uh oh, said Mudder Macree. It's the Great General Guack, here to supervise the last Feat of Bravery. Everybody who doesn't want to be Queen... hide!
Beryl looked at the General and said...
..."Hi, Guack, how's yer dwinchin'?"The General Excitement frowned at Beryl, and said...
... it right off.That seems a bit drastic, said Doctor Whom. From a medical point of view ...
Oh are you a medical doctor? queried Beryl, I hadn't realised.
Well, no. Actually I'm a doctor of Astrophysics but ...
So you have no particular medical expertise then?
Well, er no, but ...
The thing is, said Beryl who was already beginning to get a sense of her forthcoming royalty, When I was at ASDA I had to have an afternoon's training in first-aid, so I probably know more about these things than anyone else here.
I know, but ...
Anyway, said Beryl briskly, that's my advice but of course you don't have to follow it.
WOULD ANYONE ACTUALLY BE WILLING TO CARRY OUT THIS OPERATION THOUGH? said Barry, I KNOW I WOULDN'T.
Oooh meee, meee! piped up Crocky, I'll do it. Nothing like a half-rotting carcass to get the juices flowing. In fact I'll have the whole leg off if you like!
Oi, objected the General, Don't go calling me names like that. My toe isn't rotten, it's just a bit manky that's all.
Sorry, said Crocky, No offence. I'll still do it though - just give me the word. He slithered forward eagerly.
Hang on said Mudder Macree, isn't Beryl supposed to do the challenge?
Who sez, this woz part of the challinge? replied Beryl haughtily, Are you telling me the traditional challinge is curing nail fungus? Surely this is just a side issue. I've got to get on with being coronated and then doing some rulering.
Mudder Macree, who was beginning to have reservations about offending a future royal, backed down.
Well, yes, I suppose you're right, she said.
"Just leave me and the General to it", said Crocky advancing a few more paces towards his unfortunate 'patient'. "You carry on with the important business of the challenge and we'll do our thing."
"Very well Your Maj... I mean Beryl", said Mudder. "Let us proceed to the third and final challenge."
Okay, replied the future Queen Beryl, Let's get started, wot is it? It can't be any worserer than wot the other two were.
The final challenge is ...
...to see how well you can rule the Moleys in a fair manner to earn the approval of our governing body of Moley-cules. Head Moley-cule Highdro-Jean will be the chief judge, backed up by High Secretary of the molehills, Nitro-Jean and Chancellor, Ocksee-Jean. You will have 3 cases to adjudicate on, starting with this:Molar Moley has a well established Moley hole with 3 subholes shooting off the main one. Molly Moley runs a neighbouring hostel hole where she takes in destitute Moleys so they don't fry when the sun comes up. Molly Moley desperately needed to expand her hole as she was reaching capacity, but in so doing, they broke into one of Molar Moley's subholes. He has now found several destitute Moleys dossing down in his back passage.
Beryl, what is your adjudication? Should Molly make repairs to the subhole and subject her destitutes to overcrowding, or should Molar show some milk of Moley kindness and share his space?
Things to consider: Molly is related to Highdro-Jean Moley-Cule, but Molar gives me regular bungs, and it is I that ultimately decide where the crown goes.
What is your decision?"
"Oo-er," said Beryl, giving the scenario much thought - for at least 30 seconds, "I think...
Francis and Crocky rushed to her aid, removed the plates from the rods, and gently placed them on the floor.
Dr Whom shook her head at all the broken crockery and said, Why on earth did you feel the need to turn the Target's stabilizer system upside down?!
WELL, said Barry, WE DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS THE STABILITIZORY SYSTEM, AND BERYL DARED ME TO.
And you couldn't just say no? asked Dr Whom.
I DID, said Barry. BUT THEN SHE DOUBLE DOG DARED ME.
I see how that could be hard to refuse, said Dr Whom, but still...
AND THEN, said Barry. SHE...SHE... SHE TRIPLE DOG DARED ME!
The Travellers gasped and said, Nooooo.
Sir David said, Tis not the lad's fault, you know. I once filmed an award-winning documentary about the Triple Dog Dare, and no one, and I mean no one can possibly refuse it.
Tis troo, said Crocky. One time me mates triple dog dared me ta eat a whole cow. I still shudder when I thinks aboot it!
But, said Rocky. Don't crocks eat cows anyways?
Not me! said Crocky. I be a vegetarian.
Dr Whom tore herself away from the fascinating conversation, glared at Beryl and said, Don't you have to go to the loo?
Ummm, said Beryl. Not any more.
Eejit, mumbled Dr Whom.
Plonker, mumbled Beryl.
Suddenly, the Target shifted out of control and...