A vision in yellow. Just like an episode of The Simpsons, sans the realistic intellectual story lines and the belly laughs so big, you're almost on the verge of soiling yourself. I'm just about past caring about any of these people. For all I care they could all be sucked into a quantum singularity as a result of Tom Baker's ego going supernova and I wouldn't even bat an eyelid. I'd just take a sip of my Taboo and Irn Bru, turn the page of the latest edition of Marie Clare, and just continue ignoring everything that was happening in front of me.
I'd even resorted to thinking about reviewing the extras on the DVD. And have this impassioned plea to make to Phil Collinson:
Dear Phil,
You should be made to watch every single media whoring excursion made be JN-T as aversion therapy just so you aren't tempted down that particularly slippery slope. I don't think you will be. But should you ever go onto Dick and Dom in Da Bungalow and talk up a series of Doctor Who using the line, "Who knows what's in store for the Doctor", then you should be locked in a darkened room with naught but JN-T's "Cringe Curdling Worst TV Appearances Ever" collection (DVD coming soon from Tachyon TV, just in time for Christmas).
Yours,
etc...
Even my screen capture software's decided to sue me for mental torture in contravention of the Geneva Convention.
The Leisure Hive - Episode 4 Thank the good lord...
Amazingly enough this one's not so much broken the record of the shortest running episode as completely shattered it then pissed all over the shattered remains. It comes to something when the first thing I look forward to is a short running time. There's something approaching a Formasi version of the Full Monty as they're all seen stripping off down to the buff. Strange how all their clothes appear to have Velcro fastenings for quick removal. Once they get naked they don't even have a thong to remove. Ever thought about how many aliens, that appear in Doctor Who, are actually stark bollock naked? Surprised that every single show doesn't receive an 18 certificate.
Sorry, I've become momentarily distracted by the thought of Mandril porn. So the rest of this is going to be a little rambling as I attempt to hold it together.
Following the Formasi strip one of them lobs what appears to be an explosive cabbage in the direction of the baddies and they end up swaddled in cotton candy. Why don't they just eat their way out through these filaments? It's not as if they were watching their figures.
Then there's a bit of talk about "we the army", and a cut away into the Top of the Pops studio as Status Quo are performing their hit "In the Army Now". But an army of Pangols isn't enough and they've got to engage the Guides of Argolis, to be followed by the Cubs of Argolis and the Beavers of Argolis.
And it all ends rather pointlessly with multiple Doctors, who's back to a mere 750 years old, and Mena ending up being rejuvenated with baby Pangol. Why am I thinking that Baby Pangol sounds like one of those small, round, rubbery cheeses that come in a red waxy coating?
I wonder how many souls we lost during the last week? You can't move now for bodies littering the Blog and a rather sinister sound in the background of a man tolling a bell crying, "Bring out your dead".
The Bumper Book of Made-up Doctor Who Facts has this to say about part four - the production team were later to be temporally sued by the Xerox Corporation who lodged a writ in the year 2341, and sent it backwards through a wormhole, when, after realising the fun people had at office parties photocopying parts of their anatomy, the perfected the process of bodily duplication.