19 Stangeness

DURANEG3D FUKNG ENSANIET3

Part 1: Love & Absinthe

Like any good adventure, this Season 29 adventure begins with the Doctor and Martha facing the Luxorite Perfection Machines as they storm the Island of Crete, 508 BC, with their lethal medieval ideas of superiority on the human race!

Tragically, however, this is NOT a good adventure, so instead we locate ourselves in a 2009 Cambridge flat where Ben Chatham is slobbing around, idly logging onto Insecurities.com only to banned for the fourth consecutive time as an 'absinthe-soaked wank biscuit'. Every day he dreams for the Doctor and Martha to suddenly know who he is and rush to pick him up and travel into new and interesting adventures.

But they don't.

At all.

His trophy girlfriend Katie Ryan tries to excite him by dressing up as Bruno Langley and noting a 'seahemnge monument of unprecedented archaeological importance' has been discovered inside her underwear.

As ever, Ben is uninterested in her unsmoothe estrogen-caked repulsive form, and it only when he discovers that he has consumed the entire absinthe supply of Eastern AND Western Europe that he sits up, stops wanking and takes notice.

It becomes horribly obvious that unless he gets a new supply of the min-annihilating, suicide-inducing, clown-molesting plonk, Ben might actually sober up!!

The only other person who is a bigger pisshead than Ben Chatham is his uncle Harry, homosexual charicature and Upper Class Twit of the Year eighteen years running, who has been dubbed a biohazard and quarantined in a small estate on the West Coast of Scotland near the-so-small-it-often-gets-lost-under-the-staple village of Wierd Ness.

He was placed there in the hope his contamination would wipe out Wierd Ness since its population consists entirely of Scottish stereotypes, English ex-pats and patronizing gentry who think the place is "charming and colourful". They too have been relocated to Wierd Ness since the late nineteenth century and it was hoped that Harry would create a critical mass of poofy reactionaries and ideally wipe out every living thing.

Tragically, it just proves what wounded idealists and heavy drug users controlled Britain twenty years ago...

Ben decides that the time has come - like it always does in life - for him to brutally murder his own uncle and steal his remaining supplies of absinthe.

Ben decides that Katie can take a break from cooking, cleaning and bathing his smoothe, lucious chest and instead drive him all the way to Wierd Ness while he relaxes in the back seat with a perpetually-looped tape of Kraftwerk's Trans-Europe Express blotting out her repugnant feminine mewling of "You know, you really SHOULD take that medicine the doctors proscribed you".

Katie finds the trip less than pleasant as not only have to regularly stop to change Ben's incontinence trousers, but also the pleasant weather turns out to be dark, freezing rain and vicious coastal winds howling around them. And despite Ben's insistance that the natives are very friendly, the blood drenched skeleton dangling from a tree with a sign proclaiming "ONLY THE LOCAL SHALL LIVE!!" suggests that maybe they should have gone to Eastbourne instead.

A man-trap punctures the left front tire, flipping the car into a ditch and sending Katie through the windscreen into the pelting rain outside. Frustrated at his self-induced coma has been ruined, Ben climbs out into the elements... stupidly realizing not only has he gone out into the miserable weather wearing a jacket costing £700, he is naked from the waist down.

Rather than worrying about dying of exposure, or the fact he is a posterchild of 1980s consumerism, he muses he will have to walk all three yards to the village in the rain. So he finds Katie and bashes her head against the steering wheel of the car repeatedly, shouting "DAMN YOU, WOMAN! HOW DARE YOU EXACERBATE MY MOOD WITH YOUR DISEASED OVARIES?!?"

He then forces Katie to give him a piggy-back ride and be damn grateful for the opportunity. As she staggers through the rain and sleet, Ben spots another car smashed into a tree and idiotically hopes that it might be able to give him a lift for the next two yards.

Katie meekly points out that all the windows are steamed up, the occupants are moaning to themselves and there is a sign in the back window saying IF THIS CAR'S A-ROCKIN, DON'T COME A KNOCKIN, and suggests they are having wild underage sex.

Delighted, Ben pulls on Katie's hair until she takes him over to the window and allow him "a little surreptitious peep" and indulge his vice of voyeurism. Ben kicks open the window, and is upset to discover that not only are the occupants fully-clothed but have actually been involved in a hideous car crash. When he realizes that one of them is another woman, Ben instinctively draws a gun and shoots her through the neck.

"She’s dead," Ben announces darkly.

"No shit, really?" asked Katie, stunned.

In a sudden paranoid delusion, Ben notes that the injured man looks a little bit like Charles Broxby, another part of Ben's imagination that hates his guts, and so Ben shoots him as well. He orders Katie not to go for her mobile or he'll kill her too.

"There's no need to be so nasty, Ben," Katie points out before Ben calls her "numb nut" and smacks her repeatedly in the face.

Ben pisses on the corpses and decides to tell everyone the local electronics firm were responsible... until it strikes him that the chances of a tiny village like Wierd Ness having a thriving, immoral electronics industry is actually rather unlikely.

Ben has Katie carry him to the local pub "The Scottish Yobbo", its solitary neon sign FREE HAGGIS blowing in the wind. The pub is deserted bar the tall landlord with the beard so heavy it requires its own wheelbarrow. Stern and unwelcoming, the publican tosses a caber at them and tell them fuck off out of his pub.

Ben insists he must be given shelter and absinthe - it's rough work murdering innocent heterosexuals! What's more, the foul non-English weather have made him quite parched, so he demands a double of the finest single malt, and breaks Katie's nose when she tries to order a rum and coke.

The landlord, Angus Podgorning, explains they are closed and tells them to get their sasenach scrotums out of his pub or he'll set his pet man-eating blacmange on them - like the last couple whose car broke down and were foolish enough to enter the village. The police that came looking for them were also fet to his pet blacmanage, who is constantly straining at its leesh to dive into Loch Chav and feast on young flesh. Angus drools, his eyes wide and staring as he puts on a record of BBC stock dramatic music and plays Three Blind Mice on the Edison Telegraph.

"He's nice," Katie says brightly before Ben punches her in the face for daring to speak before being spoken to.

Since Harry's estate is five miles away from The Scottish Yobbo and unnatural beasts roam the streets through the sleeting rain, Angus tells Ben and Katie to get out before his pal Leatherface finishes sewing a kilt and attacks!

Ben giggles happily. This is just like his dream life of adventuring through time and space - wandering randomly into danger which coincidentally happens to be where he was going, a small isolate village, murdered people, bizarre locals with strange Scottish-Geordie accents, and Katie acting stupid so he can thump her. Once he can find his absinthe, all he needs is some Bowie in the background for him to remove his shirt and achieve Chatham Nirvana: being a total tosser yet simultaneously a children's hero...

At that moment, the door of the pub bangs in the wind, and Ben shits himself in mortal terror at the crappy weather, staining the carpet irrevocably.


Part 2: Whiskey Galore

Under gunpoint, Katie cleans up Ben's bodily waste for the fifth time that day as Uncle Harry minces in, wearing a gentlemen's cape he stole from an actual gentlemen and generally trying to out-camp Richard Griffiths in Whitnail & I.

By a staggering coincidence, he happened to be skipping gaily through the sleet and rain without being set upon by chainsaw-wielding maniacs or prehistoric sea monsters and smelt Ben's distinctive anal leakage.

"Uncle Harry!" Ben sobs pathetically before being bitchslapped by Harry.

"My dear boy, I did not marry your grandfather just for his descendants to refer to me as 'Uncle', you utterly beastly little closet-shagger! And don't think any of my old cellar's stock is going to end up in your poor, smoothe digits! The last and most finest French Absinthe is going to cause MY liver to dissolve, not YOURS, Benji Boy. The finest in food and drink is for me, and if that means the rest of you starve to death, all the better. If you're lucky I shall allow you to suck on a small child's sock which has been in walking distance of a crate of scotch."

It becomes apparent that Uncle Harry is something of a role model to Ben.

"I'm going to return to the estate. You can't come. If I let you into my incredibly cool, comfortable vintage car, your bottom might infect the upholstery with all sorts of awful diseases and then I will forced to phone those nice boys in the police and have them pistol whip you both to death. You, loser, can walk."

"What about me?" asked Katie, hopefully, and gets a kick in the groin for her troubles.

Ben and Katie watch him drive off. Katie suggests they walk and try and enjoy the countryside during the trip, and Ben repeatedly headbuts her.

On the way down the country lane, they pass a group of bald, white-clad Ood dancing in circles, holding hands and shouting "Hecate! Hecate! Hecate! Hecate!" while a Slitheen plucks a banjo sadly and quaffs some single malt.

It has absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the story in any way whatsoever, but ironically is far more interesting than the genuine story. Let us bask in this moment and think, for a beautiful second, what MIGHT have been...

...

Bittersweetness.

Oh well, back to the 'plot'.

Katie gives Ben a piggy-back ride, trying to interest Ben with all the odd happenings in Wierd Ness and gets told to shut the fuck up - she'll need male sexual organs before her opinion is worth a damn to any Chatham, and daydreams about the Doctor arriving in his TARDIS with a small army of attractive young men who spend all day and all night worshiping the Order of Saint Chatham the Tosser...

Katie idly asks if she will be allowed her bi-annual sex with Ben's smoothe chest, who rips off her earrings and tells her to shut up and walk faster! He's trying to remember how to use a contact device to summon the Doctor and take him all from all this insane chavish hellhole they call 'reality'.

Finally, they arrive at the house where the butler shoots at them repeatedly until he blows off Katie's kneecap and falls over. The butler runs out, revealing he is a shapely-legged young man in a kilt called Jamie.

Ben cruelly gets up and walks over Katie, forcing her face down into the mud, and explains he is the incredibly great nephew of Harry and ego deserves an IV of absinthe to warm him up, a glass of the finest Jura single malt and unrestricted access to Jamie's erogenous zones.

Harry appears at the window and throws the contents of a chamber pot over Ben, telling him to "stop being so finicky and accept what he is goddamn given".

Ben shakes off the muck and idly wishes he had enough braincells to remember the contact code of the contact device so he could text the Doctor a message to come and rescue him and solve all the problems, allowing Ben to take credit for it. However, he doesn't even have the damn device. It looks like he'll have to do something himself instead of calling on someone else to do all the work while he sits down and gets drunk while having some painful flirtations with butlers...

Katie finally hauls herself out of the mud and screams hysterically. "There was a FACE - at that window there staring in at us..."

"That's only your reflection, numb nut!" Ben sneers and kicks Katie's legs from under her and leaves her in the mud once more.


Part Three: "Quark, Stangeness and Charm" by Hawkwind.

Katie is locked in the broom cupboard and dubbed a mental case by Ben when suddenly a familiar wheezing groaning sound is heard in the entrance hall and a police box appears out of thin air.

The Doctor sticks his head out and looks around. "Sorry," he says, spotting Ben, "Just recalibrating. We'll be right off!"

"No, wait, Doctor! It's me!"

"Is it?... That's nice."

"It is me, Ben Chatham, your faithful companion, the man who justifies your existence as last of the Time Lords! The lover of Rose Tyler! Core of Operation Delta! Boytoy of Harriet Jones! Surely you remember?"

"Not REALLY, no," the Doctor says airily, backing into the TARDIS and making a crucifix with his fingers. "You sure you've got the right Doctor?"

Ben curses himself in his typical sophisticated manner: "FUCK! I forgot it was all a demented absinthe nightmare! But Doctor, you must help me!"

"Why? What's wrong?"

"There might be a new electronics plant near here! The place is swarming with strange white men in white! And two people have been murdered in a car... but I killed them, so that's not really a mystery, so forget that. I'd call the police, but I can't be bothered to! Why don't you turn in and then start in the morning?"

"Yeah..." says the Doctor slowly. "I'll do that... you half-baked psycho person I have never ever met before..."

Suddenly, the 1000-year-old Time Lord screams hysterically, runs into the TARDIS and it dematerializes, leaving Ben alone once more.

Dissapointment, anger, humiliation and confusion cross his smoothe, vacant features as his bowels empty themselves yet again. The stench causes Harry to vomit copiously into his collection of porcelain ashtrays, lumps of carrot smothering the finest Fonthill William Beckford collection.

Ben spots Jamie and orders him to bathe Ben and play the "All Saints" Bowie instrumental collection on a portable CD player, and then get a nightcap. Jamie does so, and as Ben sculls a bottle of cognac and demands Jamie like Bowie's early or else he will thrown out the window and left to the crows to eat.

"You know, you lithe young Scotsman with your dark mysterious eyes, I think you would look good on my arms. For God's sake just TAKE me!"

At that point, Katie bashes her way out of the broom cupboard, gaydar detecting Ben is fraternizing with servants! She charges into the bathroom and screams "Sort yourself out, Ben! Decide what it is you really want! Do you honestly want to end up like an obviously sad old poofter like your uncle? No, you secretly want me to be your proper girlfriend! ADMIT IT!"

Ben grabs Katie by her neck and hurls her out through the window, as he threatened to Jamie. As she falls to the gravel and breaks every bone in her body, Ben shouts, "You still think you know ANYTHING about me, you silly tart? HOW VERY DARE YOU!!"

Ben then demands Jamie tell him a relaxing bedtime story about moneygrabbing vulgar villagers allowing an electronic computer factory to be built in Wierd Ness, specifically one with strange figures roaming the countryside at night.

At that point Harry bursts in and says that he demands Ben pay for the window he just broke. Ben responds by grabbing Harry and drowning him in the bath, admitting this sort of thing is surprisingly easy to do compared to absinthe nightmares or artificial reality.

Yet, for some strange reason Jamie seems oddly reluctant to seduce the smoothe psychopath he sees before him.

Indeed, Jamie runs out of the house screaming "SOMEONE HELP ME! PLEASE! HELP!"

Ben bravely rushes out...

...AND IS RUN OVER BY A MORRIS MINOR!


Part Four: Mad Dog Ken Patrick Sheepface O'Reily's corporate office at Hadrian's Wall. And Company.

As Ben is slammed to the tarmac, his pathetic excuse for a life flashes before his eyes...

We see Ben moaning about the weather, the rent-a-car, his highly expensive jacket; whilst being condescending and misogynistic to Katie, before deciding to entertain himself by sneaking a perv at some holidaymakers having sex, abandoning them completely after shooting them, insulting Katie some more, getting drunk, getting stroppy with Katie when she doesn't want to rot herself away by guzzling gallon loads of absinthe, and lusting after a butler with shapely legs in a kilt.

This depressing short summary is an incredibly accurate and detailed account of Ben's life to date, and it says a lot even Ben is bored by it, to the point he wakes up.

He finds that he and Katie have been stuffed into the boot of Morris Minor as it drives incredibly recklessly down a dirt track. The only sound bar the driving rain hitting the car windows is Ben sobbing hysterically, begging to be let go and offering dubious sexual favors in return for his life. Katie notes that the Morris Minor is marked "Wierd Ness Electronics And Shit", but Ben tells her to shut up so their captors can better hear his wails of torment.

"Who are you evil people?" moans Ben pathetically.

"Well, since they drive a Wierd Ness Electronics And Shit car and drive to the main Wierd Ness Electronics And Shit building, maybe they work for Wierd Ness Electronics and Shit?"

"Katie, don't make me use force to shut you up."

The Morris Minor stops and two well built, bald, atheletic and above all smoothe men in dark suits, sunglasses and trilby hats emerge, open the boot, hose down Ben and Katie and drag them to the reception desk where a predictably suave-looking man with a tropical tan, a pencil moustache, white business suit and an expression that says "Yeah, I've appeared nude on camera, what of it?"

As Ben and Katie watch, this sophisticated sociopath blows a party razzer and honks a horn on the reception desk, bouncing up and down and screaming, "WELCOME FRIENDS! A THOUSAND WELCOMES!!! MY NAME...."

A long pause. Ben opens his mouth to speak.

"IS SIMON PRATT! But you can call me Herbert West, ReAnimator!!!" the mad, Ken Dodd-like figure screams. "Trust the journey here wasn't too unpleasant, and it was, fuck you then! Let's overcome the intitial impressions and reach an understanding that unfortunate things happen. WHO WANTS GUM? I GOT GUM! WHO WANTS GUM!!"

"Are you for real?" screams Ben in his usual refined way. "Your bastards killed my uncle."

"Uh, no," says Katie quietly. "I think you'll find that YOU killed your uncle, Ben."

Ben headbuts her unconscious. "As I was saying, you killed my uncle!"

Pratt laughs in his face. "Well, saddle up a posse, pilgrim! NOOB!"

"Hah! When the Doctor arrives, he'll find the bodies of the important people you've killed and discover your evil plans and foil them!"

Pratt eats a pencil sharpener. "Nah, we got rid of that little computer bug. Caused us enough trouble the first time."

"You mean, you've encountered the Doctor before!!!"

"Well... YEAH! This IS a sequel to 1966's 'The Wank Machines', you know."

"You mean, 'The War Machines.'"

Pratt snorts some talcum powder. "I KNOW what I mean, whitey!"

Ben goes onto blames Pratt for the couple he murdered earlier. To his describable shock, Pratt admits that the couple weren't even humans but actually a kind of Simpson X-7 washing machine reincarnated in human form. "We still have to iron out the wrinkles," muses Pratt sadly. "Which is why we intend to reincarnate trouser presses in human forms, to iron out the wrinkles of the washing machines in human forms! GOD THIS INEFFICIENCY CHAFES ME TO THE CORE! MY BOLLOCKS ARE RED WITH FRICTION!"

"How you became the boss of an electronics firm is beyond me since you’re clearly insane," says Ben with his usual tact and discretion.

"I'm not insane! YOU'RE insane!"

"No, you're insane!"

"I KNOW YOU ARE BUT WHAT AM I?!?"

This conversation goes on for a while before Pratt suddenly drops his trousers and runs round in circles pretending to be a goat. It is then he reveals he is NOT the boss of Wierd Ness Electronics And Shit, but he is merely a servant of a sophisticated modern computer with HUGE plasma screens. At this point, Pratt starts foaming at the mouth and playing with a huge ball of string, shouting "THIS time, you DIE!!"

After a few minutes, Ben folds his arms. "Uh, hello? Why aren't you telling me your evil plans? Surely you're not just going to kill me like all the others! Damn it, you bitches, I have a first from Cambridge!"

One of the flunkies sighs and takes out a mobile phone with a wallpaper of a sinster, German face with staring eyes.

"And what's that?"

A text message appears on the screen:

WELCOMA FREINDS!11!11 OMG WTF LOL IM WOMAN!11!111

"You don't LOOK like a woman," Ben points out cleverly.

WOMAN SI AN ACRONYM FOR WIL OPARATNG MANIPULA2R AND NAUGHTIFEIR!11!! OMG WTF U SE BN CHATHM PRAT’S FATHER TEH FIRST PROF3SOR PRAT D3SIGNAD A PRO2TYPE OF M3 BAK IN DA 1960S A NASTY LITLA MACHIEN FOR TEH ANJOYM3NT OF DIRTY OLD MAN BUT IT RAVARS3D ITS PROC3S SO INST3AD OF BNG CONTROLED BY MEN IT CONTROLED TEH MIND - AND MOR3 - OF MEN!1111!!11 OMG LOL VERY PRIMITIEV OF COURSA

"Ah yes," Ben notes. "I looked you up on wikipedia! You were a huge reel-to-reel filing cabinet which was smashed the pieces and partially melted when the Doctor discovered you weren't Y2k compliant! And why have you turned yourself into a bloody mobile phone? Haven't you realized being immobile sucks!

BUT WUT HIS FATH3R STARTAD OUT OF CURIOSITY TEH SON CONTINUED OUT OF LOVE!!!11111 OMG WTF

"Right... so a single guy in his mid forties, following a complete nervous breakdown somehow gets a son who decides to build a machine identical to the one that destroyed his father's mind, even though his father didn't even build the original, just finished the UN project?"

LOK PRAT JUST MAREID SOM3 U WOMAN.!1!111!11!!!1!!111!11!!! LOL

"Suuuuuuuuuuuuuuure. So, he goes mad, shacks up with a woman half his age and then, decides to teach the sprog all about computers even though his life was ruined by them. And despite this very good warning of why NOT to build computers that want to rule the world, Simon decides to do it anyway. Instead of say, becoming an amateur archaelogist or any number of other talents. He decides to take up the same profession that drove his father insane."

LOK PROFESOR PRAT R3MANEED INTAREST3D IN COMPUTERS AND D3TERMIEND 2 TRY AND WORK OUT WUT W3NT WRONG WIT HIS ORIGINAL WOMAN AND BUILD SOM3THNG WITHOUT TH3SE FAULTS - BUT HIS SON WAS A LON3Y AND DIDNT!1!1! OMG

"Like a Chenobyl survivor trying to build a better atom bomb?"

A BIT!!!1!1! WTF

"So, who was the mother of this psycho?"

PRAT MAREID A U WOMAN HIS SACRATARY JUST OUT OF COL3GE!111!11!1

"He married Polly Wright? Jesus, even I can see that for the sickeningly unbelievable retcon it is!"

SHUT UP MOTH3RFUKAR!1!1!11 WTF IM TEH FUTURE GOVERNMENT OF THES PLAENT B/C IM A PARF3CTLEY RATIONAL COMPUTER SYSTEM!1111! OMG LOL

"You, rational! Hah! I've heard more rational things from David Blunket! You're still a box of flashing lights that can't move, defend itself, or even use the meanest of logic against your opponents! I mean, look at the guy who built you!" Ben protests, pointing at Simon Pratt as he hoks up a furball. "How did he recreate the sentience of WOMAN especially considering the original Pratt didn't know it happened any way."

SHUT UP!!!1!!11! WTF UR JUST BNG IENFICEINT AND ILOGICAL!!1!1!1 OMG LOL STUPID ORGANIC CREATURAS NO WONDAR DA PLAENT SI BNG D3VOURED BY OVER-POPULATION POLUTION WAR AND GIANT BROWN LIZARDS!!11!!!! OMG LOL HUMANITY NEDS LOGICAL CONTROL!11!!11 OMG WTF LOL AND RAPLAECMANT BY TEH LAETST 3NHANC3D HUMAN AUGMANTED R3PLAQCAMENT UNITS!1111 WTF LOL

"Replaced by what?"

CYBORGS U RETARD!!!1!1!11 OMG WTF

"Oh right. So, you think the best way to save mankind is to take it over, then wipe it out!"

TAHTS IT BITCH U GOT DA PICTUR3!!!1! OMG LOL

"Why not just stay where he is and let them wipe themselves out by themselves?"

A long pause.

FUK THIS I SHAL NOW HYPNOTIEZ BOTH OF U LOSARS!!!!!

"Oh, this is madness," shouts Ben. "I demand you release us now!" But this insane optimism is misplaced!

WUT 3VER...

The room goes fuzzy as a haze engulfs Ben's walnut-sized brain. Swirling spirals and rhythmic pulsing fill the air. Suddenly, Wierd Ness Electronics and Shit has become one huge rave party as everyone starts dancing and blowing whistles with joysticks and Pratt, wearing a jester's hat, starts moonwalking as the theme tune to The A Team is remixed and blared.

"Woohoo!" Ben screams, jumping up and down, waving his hands in the air. "I will serve WOMAN! YOYOYOYOOOO!!"


Part Five: So Strange, Even The Name Looks Like A Typo.

The mighty WOMAN, most brilliant and logical creation in the history of time, sets its mindless slaves to begin the Great Work...

...


...OF STACKING BOXES ON A LORRY!

"Why the fuck can't we get a fork-lift truck?" groans Ben as he tries to lift a crate with his smoothe, atrophied limbs, causing a nasty popping sound in his midriff and condemning him to piss blood for the next six weeks. "This isn't exactly logical, is it? Why don't you get the fucking cyborgs to lend a hand over the inefficient humans? Dear god, these plain, obese bastards aren't easy on the eye... Hey, Katie, let's stop pretending, they can't hear us. Let's make a run for it!"

Katie starts shouting "HE'S BEING DISINGENUOUS! HE'S AN ENEMY! KILL HIM!"

Ben deduces that Katie is actually under the hypnotic control of WOMAN. Actually, his first impression - that WOMAN has the mesmeric capacity of a squahsed eggplant and they were just faking - is correct but Katie has had enough of this shit and tries to kill Ben with a tire-iron. Ben runs for his life, wailing, "Katie, baby, it wasn't always like this, you stupid, clingy woman!" as he tries to avoid having nine colours of shit kicked out of him.

Ben flees across the yard, behind the lorry, through a series of metallic wheelie-bins placed there for absolutely no other purporse than to provide cover for escaping prisoners. Flexing his muscular arms, the rippling Ben Chatham tries to climb the fence, not realizing that the moonlight highlighting his physique is also revealing him to the army of slaves.

Worse, Ben is so utterly puny he can't even hold his own body weight and falls off the fence. He tries three times, and only manages to climb over after his hand is caught on barbed wire. He falls to the other side of the fence with a mutilated hand, and promptly loses conciousness and empties his bowels again.

Back inside the firm, WOMAN's mighty brain power is turned on the problem and realizes that being a small cellphone is actually not a clever move. She thus decides to pinch Ben's idea and download her whole intelligence into an indestructible android body... and REALLY indestructible, this time, not just "vulnerable to archaeology books being thrown at zero velocity at the back of its head" indestructible.

Meanwhile, Simon Pratt howls and screams as he urinates on a desk, shouting "I AM A LAWNMOWER!! FEAR MEEEEE!!!"

Outside, the moronic slaves have still failed to capture Ben who stumbles off into the heather to avoid recapture, losing pints of blood in the processess.

His vision dims, his tastebuds switch off, and as his brain starts to die, Ben's IQ correspondingly rises and all thoughts of getting drunk and sorting it all out in the morning are forgotten. As he grows faint, he deduces that taking off his shirt and getting drunk while listening to rubbish music WON'T magically save the day on its own and make everyone cheer him.

Ben is now so lucid he realizes that Weird Ness Electronics And Shit is actually within spitting distance of Loch Chav.

As Ben wonders just how he got into this, how Simon Pratt could possibly have recreated the sentience of WOMAN when nothing of the original existed, or why they've named it WOMAN again just to attract attention, why anyone would start to invade the Earth from Wierd Ness, and why the revelant anti-alien authorities haven't already noticed about this, he feels a song come on.

"Take a drink,
And you'll sink,
To a world of pure inebriation
Unless you are a chav
Then I'll DROWN you
In here..."

Ben gazes at the moonlight glistening on the ripples, and wonders where all the storm weather went to. Instantly it starts to rain again.

Suddenly, two humanoid creatures with distorted features and misshapen heads emerge from the water, raising their scaly claws...

"Oh, no, not again!" sobs Ben.

Meanwhile, WOMAN is downloading herself into her new mechanical body. The machine appears to be a double of Freema Agyeman (who, like Michael Sheard, is an evolutionary standard for humanoid life throughout the universe). In a strange, sing-song yodel, the machine - hereafter refered to as the Sparthabot -
starts to lurch around the place.

"I DISLIEK THES ARCHIETCTURE!" the Sparthabot grates. "IT SI 2TALY IRASPONSIBL3 OF PLANERS 2 ALOW SUCH DEV3LOPM3NTS IN DA SCOTISH COUNTRYSIED!1!!11 OMG LOL"

The Sparthabot turns to address her army of dull people who act like slaves and pretend to be hypnotized for the hell of it. "Y HAEVNT U CAUGHT BN CHATHM?!!?! OMG UR BHAVIOR SI FRANKLEY IR3SPONSIBLA!11!11!1 THES SI NOT A GME!1!11 LOL"

"We know," Katie points out, annoyed. "What are you? An IMDb poster or something?"

"GROW UP!!!!!"

"Ooh, great comeback!" Pratt jeers.

Meanwhile, back at Loch Chav, Ben is still screaming hysterically.


Part Six: Wee Jock McHaggis-Sporran In An Exciting Adventure With A Load Of Old Pony

Ben has another strange moment as he wonders if his adventures are simply being masterminded by some irredeemable user of words it doesn't properly understand, a monomaniac of the highest order whose stories are the worst ever written and any production team would pour petrol over themselves and light themself afire, en masse, rather than EVER have to read any of this stuff ever again.

Meanwhile, a few metres away sits John Cleese in a tuxedo. "Later tonight, we'll be discussing the important questions raised by this part of 'Durainged Fuking Ensanitee' including 'Will there ever be a cohesive plot?', 'Just what incredible events will happen off-camera and be heard about later on?', 'Why has no one shot Chatham yet?', 'Just how incompetent is WOMAN, anyway?', 'Will a random switch on the TARDIS console solve the entire problem and how will Ben Chatham take credit despite not doing anything at all useful?' and the most pivotal question of all: 'Is "firm inner thigh" the new "smoothe chest"? But now, for something completely identical.'

Ben continues to be horrified as the deformed creatures lunge at him. "Och it’s a rare night to be ooot orn the road laddie," wheezes one of the monsters. "Canna give ya a lift?"

"What?!" he exclaims in a refined way. "Aren't you the results of Pratt's moronic genetic experiments designed to augment the numan race, combined with cybernetics?"

"Eh, what's 'numan'?" asks the other creature.

"Oh, sorry. I MEANT to say, 'Aren't you the results of Pratt's moronic genetic experiments designed to augment the HUMAN race, combined with cybernetics?'"

"Eh? Hell no, ya daft sassenach bastard!" laughs one of the Lovecraftian beasts. "We're the locals of Wierd Ness! Ah'm Hamish, and this ere be Campbell. We're swingers, we are, we're great fuckbuddies of Harry. Your smoothe flesh and lack of mental capacity sergest ya young Ben Chatham, eh?"

"When were the last tame ye came and forgoot were you were?" asks Campbell, apropos of nothing.

"Well, Uncle Harry is dead, so no gay sex for you twisted gonads!"

"I thought Ben Chatham was the biggest mysognist in the Outer Hebridies," Hamish says, frowning. "He's a homophobe as well."

"Aye, mysogny and homophobia," Campbell agrees. "Strange bedfellows."

"And so are we!" Hamish laughs, fingering his moustache in a suggestive manner.

"EXCUSE ME!" Ben screams. "I demand you take me to my uncle's house so I may take my inheritance."

"Why not, yer spineless goon," Cambell sneers and three of them climb into a nearby van.

"Aye," Hamish says as they drive out, "it’s a rare night to be oot."

"I know, you said that already!" Ben shouts. "Fuck it, you Scots are such stupid arseholes!"

"When the mist comes down across the loch things can happen round here. Strange, sinister things."

"Which is why we hide in Loch Chav and indecently expose ourselves to herring," Campbell chips in. "Cud ah place meh scaly claw on yer knee and slowly move round to yer firm inner thigh?"

Ben is aghast... and finally passes out from blood loss.

"Great! Put the racist pig in that gingham dress and the fun can REALLY begin!" Hamish cackles.

Meanwhile, back at the Wierd Ness Electronics And Shit plant, the Sparthabot continues to bitch at her slaves as they lift crates into a lorry. Katie asks just exactly what the hell they're doing moving empty crates onto a lorry and shipping them all over Scotland.

"ITS A TAEKOVAR BID!1!!!!1 OMG WTF!" Sparthabot shouts. "I DONT HAEV 2 AXPLANE ANYTHNG 2 U!11!! WTF!"

"Sod this for a game of soldiers," Katie complains and storms off.

Meanwhile, Ben Chatham awakes to find himself being sodomized by two different mutant Scotsmen simultaneously. Swift as the greyhound, strong as a gorilla, as intelligent as a nerf ball, Ben leaps out of the car and runs through the heather before arriving at Uncle Harry's house.

Katie arrives, and they are both shot at by Jamie who screams everyone has gone fucking insane and they're not getting HIM, buster!

Katie gives Jamie a slap which revives Jamie from this state, and Ben respondes by repeatedly slamming Katie's head into his kneecap, then punches her in the face over and over again, before hurling her into the fireplace.

"Right," Ben explains. "Professor Pratt is a half-baked insane lunatic, who somewhere in his disturbed mind has the desire to inflict on himself the kinky domination his father suffered at the hands of WOMAN. He has built a far less dangerous and more loopy version of the computer and it is conducting genetic and cyborg experiments with a view to produce a new species of human race, one that is devoid of all that the machine considers to be imperfections such as compassion and emotion. Now, let's have some brandy and sleep on it. It's rather late and these things always sort themselves out..."

Ben is rather put out when Jamie screams: 'YOU'RE A FUCKING NUTTER!' and runs for his life upstairs, wailing unhappily.

Ben figets helplessly, then notices Katie - shards of broken glass in her head - is staggering to her feet, so he drop kicks her again.


Part Seven: Oh Go Away And Sort It Out For Yourself, Chatham.

At last, the cliches of cliches is at an end. This tale of men in black, weird cultists, pub owners sharing strange stories of questionable interest, senseless and unexplained murders, absinthe, Ben's albums, Ben's expensive accessories getting ruined, mysoginy, homophobia, lashings of snobbery and villains explaining their plots to their captives in incredibly corny dialogue is at an end. Soon, the vacuous dialoge, non-existant plotting, characterisation notable only for its abscence, rampant alcoholism, sexism, classism and predjudice, slavish adherance to an outmoded and repressive political system and a complete lack of thrills 'n' chills 'n' spills will soon be over!

This ultimate episode begins with Ben failing, yet again, to understand that children's heroes don't get themselves soused for the hell of it rather than saving the world.

Having dropped a sofa on Katie's head, Ben stalks through the house clutching a fire axe and hissing, "No sex and no absinthe make Ben a homicidal lunatic!" and shouting "Here's Benjiiii!" as he bursts into the countless bedrooms of the manor house.

Finally, he locates Jamie hiding in Uncle Harry's room and immediately locks him in and starts to remove his clothing. Jamie is not in the mood to be seduced on a dead man's bed and not even an offer of playing Harry's bagpipes will sway him.

"You come round here, beat us all up, murder Harry and now you're going to rape me!"

"Untrue!" Ben says before picking up the bagpipes and bashing Jamie round the head with them. "Do you think I'd risk damaging these if I wasn't such a good lover? These bagpipes belong King James the Fourth of Scotland before the accident with the contraceptive and the time machine whereupon he became King James the First of England! He gave them to the Duke of Buckingham who sold them to cover his opium addiction which Harry was naturally the supplier! They still work - now are you gonna give me some sugar or am I going to have to play Flowers in the Forrest?"

Given this impossible choice, Jamie breaks down in hysterical sobs.

Ben is about to have this wicked way when he realizes... JAMIE IS A GIRL! (Now that is some really poor visual continuity...)

BEN NEARLY RAPED... A WOMAN!!!

Ben screams hysterically and runs to the mirror and begins to hack off his blonde locks with a blunt pair of scissors, carving the words BAD WOLF THINKS I'M A CHAV on his face as he does so.

Suddenly, a curled up figure smashes through the window behind them, straightens out and lands perfectly to reveal...

"Martha Jones?" asks Ben, astounded, his fragile little mind shaken to its core.

"NO!!11!! OMG LOL IT SI I, WOMAN, IN HUMANOID FORM!1!!1!!!! OMG LOL 'SMUG POINTL3S ANDROID ROBOT TAHT HAETS ANYONE' BUT U CAN CAL ME.!!!!1!!1!!!11!1 WTF LOL S.P.A.R.T.H,A!!!!!!11!1!11!!1!1!! OMG WTF!"

Ben gamely hides behind the bag pipes as the Sparthabot lurches towards him.

"IM UNIMPR3SED BY DA D3COR!111!11! OMG WTF LOL THES CUD B A RILLY NIEC ROM IF SOMAONA ALTAR3D TEH COLOURSCHAME AND R3MOVAD THOSE AWFUL PICTUR3S OF NAEKD GREKS!1!!!!!1 OMG WTF LOL!"

"How dare you suggest redecorating this room!" Ben shouts as he hides.

"DONT TRY 2 S3DUCE ME BN CHATHM!!11!1 I KNOW UR TACTIS BOY!!!1! LOL U AND I STAY PURELEY PLA2NIC AS I PLAN TEH ANIHILATION OF HUMANITY!!111!111 OMG WTF"

"You robo-slag! Leave me alone!"It's because of you I was getting felt up by those mutated ethnic stereotypes!"
"I WAS SIMPLEY SIMPLEY EXPARIEMNTNG WIT DA IMPRESIONIST STYLA OF RONALD FIRBANK!1!!1 OMG OF COURSA U KNOW THOS3 AERNT REAL SCOTSM3N HEAEVNS NO!1!!!1!!1 OMG WTF THEY R ARTIFICIAL SCOTSM3N!111!!11 WTF THES SI PART OF WUT SI CAL3D 'ART', U INBRED BARBARIAN!!11! WTF LOL"

"Bitch!"

"O GROW UP!!! MAH SLAEVS R ALRAADY APROACHNG THES HOUES THROUGH DA THIK SCOTISH MIST BLOWN IN FROM DA LOCH!!!!11111 OMG WTF IMA SHIT U UP MOFO!!!1!1 OMG LOL"

Ben wails unhappily as the distinctive sound of slave bursting in through the front door in a convertible can be heard. Desperately, he tries to drown it out with the bagpipes, and the augmented cyborgs hear the noise and start screaming with agony.

Ben laughs with delight. "It must be the bagpipe notes interfering with the frequency of the mind control waves! Their brains must be haemorraging!"

"NO!" the Sparthabot protests. "TAHT SI JUST TEH WORST FUKNG BAGPIEP PLAYNG IVE 3VER H3ARD IN MAH ANTIER LIEF!111! OMG WTF GOD KENY G HAS NOTHNG ON U U ATONAL FUKNG NOIES DEFECA2R!!11!1! OMG SHUT DA FUK UP!!!!1!!!1!1! WTF THAT NOISE IS BAD!"

"Hahah! I defeat you!"

"U DEAEFN US MORE LIEK U RETARD!1111!! LOL S2P TAHT FUKNG NOIES!!!!1!!111!! WTF!!"

"Never!"

"U WIL PAY FOR THIS!!!!1!!1! OMG WTF HUMANITY STANES THES PLAENT LIEK FILTH!11111!!1 LOL IT MUST B CLEANSED - STARTNG WIT U CHAV-FUKER!11!! WTF"

Desperate to stop the noise, the cyborgs rip their own heads off. Luckily, Simon Pratt has arrived, armed with a Luger!

"PRAT!!1!!!111 WTF KIL TAHT MOFO!1111111 OMG LOL"

Pratt turns and shoots the Sparthabot, who collapses with a groaned, "U HAEV GOT 2 B FUKNG KIDNG ME.!!1111!1!11!!!1!!!! WTF U STUPID PRAT!!111!!1 OMG!"

"You're unhinged!" Ben challenges.

"You know, you might just be right," Pratt muses before grabbing a vase from the landing table and smashes it over his own head. Pratt slips, falls backwards off the landing, plummets three metres and cracks his head on the flagstone wall before an antique suit of medieval armor Uncle Harry used for sex games falls atop Pratt, crushing him into a paste.

"WUT A PRAT!!11!111 WTF" Sparthabot groans.

"You know, Spartha," Ben asks, "does your undying rage at the world around you allow you to feel any other emotions?"

"LIEK WUT?!!?!"

"Happiness? Sadness? Fear?"

"NO NOT RILLY."

Ben crosses to the window and eagerly awaits the arrival of UNIT in order for him to gain recognition and adoration. He cracks open a bottle of single malt and rehearses an embarrassed, modest smile as the latest male Brigadier worships him for his brilliance of convincing UNIT of the severity of the threat... until Sparthabot points out he hasn't actually contacted them yet.

"Damn it! Can you at least tell Brigadier Ashton when he turns up I single handedly sprayed you with bullets and triggered a resulting fire that destroyed you off-screen, allowing me to take all the credit as you vanish into silicon hell?"

The Sparthabot looks thoughtful. "AND TEH SURVEY SADE... FUK OFF!!!1"

Ben bursts into tears, realizing he will never repay his debt to society SO well, he'd be in such extreme credit that he could steamroller all the world's kittens and still not be hated by all the common people.

"Oh, to have kitten-steamrollering privileges at last..." he weeps.

Then he remembers why he came to Weird Ness in the first place and runs downstairs to the well-stocked cellar. "Well done, me! I'm a hero! So let's PARRRRRRRRTAYYYY!!!"

Katie finds himself drinking absinthe like tap water.

"I don't know about you, Katie," Ben slurs, newly-grown braincells already liquefying, "but this adventure has proved a lurning curve for me. I don't some some Time Lord wanker to turn up and save the day. I can just rely on the armed services to do that with grotesque amounts of civilian casualties and collatoral damage. I feel major new character developments about to occur."

Katie is concerned. "Are you going to enrol in therapy and Alcoholics Anonymous?"

Ben stares at her. "No. Why would I enrol in Alcoholics Anonymous? I don't have a drinking problem."

"A drinking problem?!" Katie exclaims. "For the last three months you spent every single day lying on the sofa, guzzling from a 10 litre bottle of White Shite Cider, swearing at Jeremy Kyle, having mastubatory fantasies about Boyd from Neighbours, before falling asleep covered in your own vomit and wee! OF COURSE YOU'VE GOT A PROBLEM!"

"Nonsense! I'm a highly intelligent individual with an appreciation for wine and food, and given the exceptionally difficult life I lead, saving the world and putting up with you, I deserve to relax with a good bottle or thirty-seven of Absinthe..."

"Then what are the major new character developments?"

"I'm going to put you into a lunatic asylum of course, so I don't have to put up with the stench of your disgusting feminine hygene products!" Ben says cheerfully before beating her unconscious with a fireplace poker.

And so, in an ending keeping the Scottish theme, Ben laughs and drinks.

And drinks.

And drinks.

And drinks.

And drinks.

And drinks...

...until his liver explodes in a spectacular special effect.

Meanwhile, on the BBC website audio commentary transcribed by the Mighty Cameron J Mason of Holy Hadrojassic Maxarodenfoe:

Julie Gardner: Hoorah!

RTD: How fantastic were the Mill with that effect!

Phil Collinson: They said it couldn't be done on the budget assigned, but they worked the extra hours and it has certainly paid off.

RTD: A round of applause for the hard workers at the Mill!

Julie/Phil/RTD: Hoorah! *clapping*, etc...

THE END