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Post by youthofoz on Sept 14, 2012 4:36:37 GMT -5
(The TARDIS lands in a Parisian alleyway. The Doctor and Mickey emerge.)
Doctor: Ah! Pre-Revolutionary France! Course, they didn't CALL it France back then, it was just a bunch of kingdoms and provences, but FRENCH kingdoms and provences!
Mickey: We're not gonna have our heads chopped off or anything, are we?
Doctor: Well, never say never. Oh, lighten up, Mickey boy! That doesn't take off for another two hundred years, at least. Now, the sixteenth century has roughly two phases - before and after the Massacre.
Mickey: The Massacre!
Doctor: Yep. See, BEFORE the Massacre, it's a time of fear, suspicion, betrayal, anger... mind you, it was like that AFTERWARDS too. Still, as long as we're more than five years either side of it, we're laughing!
Mickey: We haven't though. It's gonna be flipping tomorrow, isn't it?
Doctor: Oh, don't be so glum! Come on, we can meet up with an old mate of mine. Well, not a mate, more a friend of a friend. Of a friend. Preslin.
Mickey: Like Elvis?
Doctor: Oh, I wish. No, he's just a little old scientist, or apocethary as they were called back then. Back now. Will be... Oh, never mind. But he was a trendsetter.
(Inside a pub, further down the road, a bunch of Catholics are getting pissed on red wine...)
De Laren: Yes! The royal wedding has been a complete success! The Catholics didn't kill the groom and the Protestants didn't knife the bride! Things can only get better from hereon in! HERE'S TO RELIGIOUS TOLERANCE!
(The bunch swig from their goblets and spit out.)
Muss: THIS IS SHIT! Haven't you got any decent, Protestant booze?
De Laren: Oh, Christ, he's off again...
(Simon Dubar runs in.)
Dubar: Now then, now then, now then. You wouldn't be dissing the Catholics AGAIN, would you?
Muss: Nonsense. Buy me a drink, and maybe I'll calm down.
Dubar: Oh no, you're not fooling me like THAT again...
Landlord: Bloody Protestants! I only serve you because I need the money!
Muss: Hah! You WHORE!
Landlord: I'd be insulted... but it's true. Oh, why do the Admiral's Groupies have to pick MY pub to practise dogma, eh? It's at times like this I wish my wife was around for me to take my frustrations out on...
Dubar: You're not exactly helping me with the tolerant mood.
Landlord: My heart bleeds.
Dubar: Oh, if you hate them so much, be proactive. Spy on them! Ply them with booze! Get all the info and sell it to the highest bidder.
Landlord: Brilliant! Why didn't I think of that?
Dubar: Because you're a moron. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better pubs to get plastered in.
Landlord: All right then! You're BARRED!
Dubar: Whatever.
(He walks out just as the Doctor and Mickey enter.)
Mickey: So. You're gonna spend all day telling Preslin what he already knows.
Doctor: Pretty much. You into germinology, Mickey?
Mickey: Nope.
Doctor: You amaze me. Still, here... (hands him some cash) have a pub crawl. Meet you back at the TARDIS.
Mickey: Oh yeah, cause I'm BOUND not to get in trouble in medieval Paris, aren't I?
Doctor: You're BOUND to get in trouble in a whitegoods store, Mickey. What's your point? See ya!
(The Doctor prances off.)
Mickey: Mockney twat. Oi, barman. Get me something that won't cause renal failure. And lots of it.
Landlord: I don't accept this currency.
Mickey: What? (checks notes) Bloody hell, Doctor, these are flippin' Euros!
(The very drunk Muss stumbles over.)
Muss: Yay! Fight-fight-fight!
Mickey: Oh, for Christ's sake!
Muss: Oh. Are you Catholic?
Mickey: I'm lapsed agnostic. I know there's a god, I just don't trust him. What do you care, you drunk tit?
Muss: Hahahaahahaha!
Mickey: ...do you have someone who looks after you?
De Laren: Yeah, that'd be me.
Mickey: Good. Take him away.
De Laren: He's the bodyguard of the Admiral. I'm the bodyguard of Prince Henry.
Mickey: Uhhuh.
De Laren: You know, the one who got married today to that Catholic tart. Peace in our time and all that bollocks.
Mickey: If you're his bodyguard... what are you doing in a pub?
De Laren: (worried) Bloody hell, you've got a point there!
(A pretty girl runs in.)
Annie: Somebody save me!
Muss: Yay! A stripper!
(Annie hides under a table as a bunch of Imperial Stormtroopers enter.)
Captain: Evenin' all. We're the private guard of Cardinal Whatisface. Anyone see a pretty girl freaking out and running around?
De Laren: Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaybe.
Captain: She's the cleaning woman for the Cardinal's House while he's off in Rome and now she's buggered off with the work half-done. The hygiene standards are horrible over there. If she don't come back, it's a breach of contract and no money.
De Laren: Lah de dah de dah.
Captain: This will piss off the Abbot and no mistake!
De Laren: Ah who cares?
Captain: ...good point. Night night.
De Laren: Aw. No fight?
Mickey: Dude, you are the worst bodyguard ever.
De Laren: Do I tell YOU how to do YOUR job after a day of getting wasted on cheap plonk?
(Annie rushes out of hiding and hugs Mickey.)
Annie: Oh, you saved me, you wonderful, wonderful person! I love you!
Mickey: Oh yeah. I still got it. Why'd you run away?
Annie: I heard two stormtroopers chatting while using the privvy - they said they only joined up for the ethnic cleansing and religious genocide, and there was going to be some action any day now!
Mickey: Hmmm. Methinks this may have something to do with that Massacre I heard about...
Annie: Oh, you're so clever.
Mickey: That's right, babe, Mickey the Mastermind they call me. Now, do I try and find the Doctor or get drunk and have a one-night stand with you?
Annie: I LIKE the second idea.
Mickey: Me too.
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Post by youthofoz on Sept 14, 2012 4:37:27 GMT -5
(Elsewhere, the Doctor stops by a door marked "PRESLIN'S A WANKER!" and knocks on it. A little old man enters.)
Preslin: Ere, aren't you the Abbot of Ambawarzee?
Doctor: Uh. No. Hello, Preslin! Not a bad day for it, eh?
Preslin: Piss off!
Doctor: I just wanted to say hello...
Preslin: Preslin doesn't live here any more!
Doctor: Charlie, boy, I KNOW it's you.
Preslin: Piss off anyway!
Doctor: Can't we talk about germs? I know this great guy in Germany building microscopes...
Preslin: Piss off! ...microscopes, you say?
Doctor: Yep. This guy totally agrees with everything you say, dude.
Preslin: Oh. You SURE you're not the Abbot.
Doctor: Yes I'm sure.
Preslin: Racist, intolerant bastard... Now the Cardinal's off facing Chaser stunts at the Vatican, the Abbot's in charge. He declares a jihad on us Protestants every time he breaks wind - which he does a lot!
Doctor: Yeah. Think I might have worked out which side of the Massacre we've landed.
Preslin: Massacre? Sod this, I'm getting out of town!
Doctor: Don't I get some kind of reward for saving your ass?
Preslin: Here. Try this mind-expanding vegetable extract I found.
(The Doctor snorts it while Preslin runs away.)
Doctor: Ahhh. You know, this is very familiar, slightly bitter... (eyes bulge) oooh, goodnight Theta.
(He falls down on the floor, and sinks into the carpet, ala Trainspotting.)
(At the Cardinal's House, notable for that flashing neon sign "CARDINAL SIN IN DA HOUSE!", Dubar is shouting at the stormtroopers.)
Dubar: You idiots just LET her get away? Because De Laran TOLD you to!
Captain: Maaaaaaaaybe.
Dubar: She's going to spill the beans about our evil plans, you twat!
Captain: Is she? Blimey, you should have mentioned that.
Dubar: I DID!
Captain: OK, OK, there's no need to be aggressive.
Dubar: I AM NOT GETTING AGRESSIVE!!!
Captain: You are, man, I can sense it.
Dubar: FIND THAT BLOODY SERVANT GIRL, YOU USELESS TOSSER!!
Captain: OK. Where should I look?
Dubar: Maybe at the pub you left her, YOU PINHEAD!!!!
(At that same pub, De Laren and Muss are STILL drunk.)
De Laren: Hic. You know, you know something?
Muss: W...what?
De Laren: We should, like, really keep that good Protestant girl out of trouble. Hic.
Muss: Why?
De Laren: ...I forget. Great arse though.
Muss: Oh yeah.
De Laren: Hang on. This massacre business. BOUND to be, like, something to do with... with... with... Henry. Yes. And that means a great deal to me.
Muss: Coz, like, you're his... belch... bodyguard?
De Laren: Pretty much. I mean, if they kill Henry, all the peace and prosperity caused by his wedding will, you know, like end.
Muss: He got married TODAY.
De Laren: Yeah.
Muss: And all day we've been trying to pick fights. Not REALLY peace and prosperity.
De Laren: Shut your mouth, Muss. And get me another drink.
(Dubar enters.)
Dubar: Stupid stormtroopers and their unions... Have to do everything myself. Oi. Barman...
Landlord: I am a LANDLORD dammit. Stop calling me a barman.
Dubar: I'm not in the mood to piss about! Where's that girl?
Landlord: Upstairs banging that guy with the Nintendo "Know Your Roots" T-shirt.
Dubar: Ahah!
Landlord: I think.
Dubar: What?
Landlord: They MIGHT have left altogether. I dunno, it was between scenes.
Dubar: Is everyone in this city a retard?!
Landlord: No! We're FRENCH! Besides, she's a Protestant, she probably joined the Admiral's Groupies.
Dubar: AHYAHIHADDENFORTOFDAT!!
(A bell begins to ring.)
Muss: Right, that's curfew. Let's get out of this shithole.
(Mickey and Annie come down the stairs, pulling their clothes on.)
Mickey: Can we hang with you?
De Laren: Sure thing, man. Bring the ho as well.
(Swearing, Dubar runs back to the Cardinal's Swinging Bachelor Pad. He heads towards a high-backed chair looking out the window. Smoke comes behind the chair.)
Dubar: Ooooooooooooh-kaaaaaaaay! Bit of an incident. The cleaning woman sort of heard all our evil plans, and now she's teamed up with the other Protestants and Admiral de Coligknee and generally things have gone a little bit pear-shaped. Um... got any thoughts on the matter?
(The chair swings round to reveal David Tennant in a monk's robe with a huge spliff.)
Abbot: Jings, do I have to think of everything? How about kidnapping her from the Admiral's pad and bringing her back here?
Dubar: Superlative scheme, sir.
Abbot: Whatever, you sychophant. (looks broodily out the window) Bloody Frenchies...
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Post by youthofoz on Sept 14, 2012 4:39:14 GMT -5
(The next morning, at the Admiral's Pad, De Laren and Muss nurse Ay-MAZE-zing hangovers.)
De Laren: Stupid Prince Henry doesn't believe me when I say his wife's family are out to get him!
Muss: Well, maybe you shouldn't have thrown up on him.
De Laren: Trust you to focus on that ONE mistake.
Muss: And why would they believe a servant girl's story about maybe overhearing someone maybe possibly mention a massacre? She's got a bloody Cornish accent for crying out loud!
De Laren: Bah. Maybe we should tell the Admiral. You're his bodyguard.
Muss: Actually I'm really his secretary, but I like to think of it as guarding his body.
De Laren: Jesus Christ. Just tell him those damn Catholics are bad!
Muss: Think he knows already.
De Laren: Hey, where is that servant girl anyway?
Muss: How the hell should I know?
(Back at the pub, Mickey wanders in.)
Mickey: Yo, barkeep, you seen the Doctor?
Landlord: Stop calling me that! I'll have you know I am a Landlord!
Mickey: That don't answer my question, does it?
Landlord: No, he hasn't turned up. Piss off, Englishman! Go and chat to your Protestant friends.
Mickey: Maybe I will. Oh, one more thing.
Landlord: What?
(Mickey grabs the Landlord's head and slams it repeatedly against the bar.)
Mickey: LANDLORD LANDLORD LANDLORD!
(The Landlord slumps. Mickey exits.)
Mickey: Yep. There was no part of that I didn't enjoy.
(He walks down the road to the Admiral's Pad.)
Mickey: Morning you two. Gotten over your hangovers yet?
Muss: (drinking from wine bottle) Working on a new one.
(A guy called Colbert enters.)
Colbert: Wazzup ma homies! I'm the new personal assitant of the Abbot, don't you know and he's sent me here to get that servant chick you are hiding here.
Muss: Piss off.
Colbert: Don't bust my balls here, man. I need the girl.
Muss: Piss. Off.
Colbert: Oh, well, all right then.
(Colbert leaves.)
Muss: What a douche.
(Colbert steps outside and speaks to the Abbot.)
Colbert: They were totally rude to me.
Abbot: Oh. Poor thing.
(He knees Colbert in the bollocks and storms off.)
Abbot: By the way, you're fired!
(Mickey leans out the door and watches him go.)
Mickey: By the ass crack of the infinite! That's the Doctor!
De Laren: No. That's the Abbot. You some kind of spy?
Mickey: Yeah, which is why I jumped up and down when seeing my secret paymaster. Sober up, you tosser.
Muss: He's right. Maybe. OK, Mickey. Let's find this Doctor of yours then.
De Laren: Dude, this sounds MASSIVELY dodgy.
Muss: Ah, what the hell could go wrong?
(At the French Palace, Dubar is bitching to fellow Catholic, the Marshall.)
Marshall: So, not only do you let a girl overhear your evil plans, you let her escape to meet our enemy, then the Abbot goes IN PERSON to ask for her back. Is he TRYING to screw up this entire operation?
Dubar: I get that impression, yeah. But he says his pal, James Bondo, will do the whole assassination dead cheap. Plus the Cardinal thinks he's good.
Marshall: The Cardinal's a dickhead.
Dubar: And so's that Mickey guy.
Marshall: Which Mickey guy?
Dubar: I dunno. Just some English guy hanging out at the Admiral's Pad.
Marshall: That might be vaguely important. Check up on things and tell the Abbot that we will be having words about the Sad Dutch Bugger.
(The Admiral enters, just like the Fonz, with a round applause.)
Admiral: And which Sad Dutch Bugger would that be? The ones I want to help out against those Spanish twats?
Marshall: Yeah. But there's Protestant, aren't they?
Admiral: God damn it this religious schism stuff has gotten boring fast.
Marshall: So who's this Brit who's staying with you then?
Admiral: No idea. Just one of my many groupies.
Marshall: Fair enough. Now, I have to rap with the bitch Queen Mother.
Admiral: Try not to beat her up this time.
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Post by youthofoz on Sept 14, 2012 4:39:36 GMT -5
(Meanwhile, Mickey and Muss are wandering around, being useless.)
Muss: Well, no sign of Charles Preslin or your pal.
Mickey: Nope. Maybe he's pretending to be the Abbot.
Muss: Why would he do that?
Mickey: It passes the time. Ooh look!
(While Muss is distracted, Mickey runs away.)
(At the Abbot's House, Dubar enters.)
Dubar: Ambwarzee, you got some splainin to do!
Colbert: He's buggered off. Probably chatting to Moneyair.
Dubar: Goddamn it! Call him "James Bondo". We have to use our carefully chosen code names so any servant girls listening won't have a bloody clue what we're on about. Rather like the audience. It's James Bondo who is going to kill the Sad Dutch Bugger.
Colbert: No wonder this operation is a shambles. We don't actually know anything about the Abbot, let alone what he's meant to be doing!
Dubar: Well, that's the French for you.
(At the Admiral's Pad, Muss stumbles in.)
Muss: I lost the cunning son of a bitch!
De Laren: Oh well, he's obviously a Catholic spy.
Annie: No he isn't!
De Laren: Piss off!
(Annie leaves.)
De Laren: Uppity tart.
(Dubar rushes back to the Marshall.)
Marshall: Now what? Don't tell me the Abbot's wandered off?
Dubar: Heh. You're gonna laugh.
Marshall: Go and find him. And tell him the Sad Dutch Bugger dies tomorrow.
Dubar: Really? So we don't need the assassin?
Marshall: (sigh) Christ in a blender. The Queen Mum had decided that tomorrow we assassinate the Sad Dutch Bugger, OK? Is that too difficult to understand? When he comes back from the Louvre tomorrow, James Bondo puts a cap in his ass. Chk-chk-boom! Savvy?!
Dubar: ...Who IS the Sad Dutch Bugger anyway?
Marshall: I give up. Piss off.
(At the Admiral's Pad, Mickey rolls up.)
Mickey: Hey, everyone! I'm back!
De Laren: Piss off.
Mickey: Fine. **** you then.
(Mickey leaves.)
Muss: I wonder why he came back?
De Laren: Well, he was obviously... uh... guess I should have asked him that, really.
Muss: Seriously, shouldn't you be guarding Prince Henry? It's almost curfew.
De Laren: Whoa. That day went past quick.
(Mickey wanders down a street and bumps into Annie.)
Mickey: That's ma woman. KNEW you couldn't stay away.
Annie: Those Admiral Groupies are assholes. I want to be with you.
Mickey: Well, you're only human. Somehow, I've no idea how, I've discovered that the Sad Dutch Beggar dies tomorrow. Must have overheard it or something. Anyway, let's crash out at Preslin's shop and make out?
Annie: Result!
(The Admiral returns to his Pad.)
Admiral: Hey, Muss, what's happening? OK? Fantastic. I tell you, I've totally convinced the King to go to war with Spain, joining forces with the Dutch. You know, they say I'll go down in history as "the Sad Dutch Bugger" because I've saved so many of them. I freaking rock.
Muss: As long as no one assassinates you tomorrow back from the Louvre.
Admiral: Oh, as if THAT might happen!
(They laugh crazily, Police Academy Style.)
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Post by youthofoz on Sept 14, 2012 4:40:20 GMT -5
(The next day, in Preslin's shop, Mickey and Annie are woken by the end-of-curfew-bell. Niether of them notice the Doctor lying face down in the carpet.)
Mickey: OK, baby, time to action. The Sad Dutch Beggar dies today, which probably has something to do with the Massacre, so the best thing to do is get the hell out of here ASAP. I'll see if I can pick up the Doctor from that stupid Abbot place.
Annie: Wow. You're so manly.
Mickey: I know.
(At the Louvre, a safe distance away from the Mona Lisa, the Admiral is chatting to King Charles, the Marshall, a little old guy from Pyramids of Mars called Collins and the cameramen.)
Admiral: All right, you idiots. I'll go through this AGAIN. If we help the Dutch fight the Spanish, the Catholics and Protestants will stop fighting amongst themselves and unite against the dirty Spaniards.
Marshall: Didn't we just go through a royal wedding to do that?
Admiral: Yeah, and it sucked!
Marshall: Point taken. But who pays for this war?
Collins: The English? They kind of owe us big time.
Marshall: Have you MET their Queen?! Ben Elton wasn't taking the piss, she's REALLY like that in real life.
King Charlie: I'm bored. Who wants to play tennis?
Admiral: Shut up, we're busy.
King Charlie: DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?!?
Admiral: Yes.
King Charlie: Well. GOOD!
Admiral: You gonna let your mum push you round for the rest of your life or what?
Collins: Dude! Don't GO there!
Admiral: Whoa, I just WENT there!
King Charlie: Sod this for a game of soldiers. I want to play tennis.
(At the Abbot's House, Mickey and Annie enter like they own the place. There is a sign over the door: "WARNING - PRAYER TAKING PLACE".)
Mickey: Yo, Abbot! I know about a Sad Dutch Bastard dying today!
(The Abbot sticks his head round the door.)
Abbot: Who the hell are you?
Mickey: Oh, right, play the hard ball. Ok, monkey boy, I brought back your servant.
Annie: Mickey, you son of a bitch!
(The Marshall enters.)
Marshall: Typical, I leave for five minutes and it all goes to chaos.
Abbot: You two - sod off. Now, Marshall, let us chat about assassinations.
(Mickey and Annie stand to one side as the two chat.)
Marshall: Bondo's ready?
Abbot: Yep, right in the Port St Martin Book Depository. Is the Sad Dutch Bugger one the move?
Marshall: Once he's played a round of doubles with the King.
Abbot: Well, all right then! Allonzee! Time to die, Admiral!
(Mickey and Annie exchange looks and sneak out.)
Marshall: Did you HAVE to use his real name?
Abbot: Ah, who cares? No one's listening.
Marshall: Hang on, those two have nicked off! Who were they?
Abbot: I dunno.
Marshall: God's bollocks, you are a moron! If a gnat had your brain, it'd fly backwards!
Abbot: All's sweet, Marshall. It's too late to stop the chk-chk-boom now!
(Mickey and Annie run to the Admiral's house, conveniently next door.)
Mickey: Yo, shithouse bodyguards, your Admiral's about to be shot!
Muss: Oh, I bet *I* get the blame for this...
(Outside, the Admiral struts his funky stuff back to the house. Daniel Craig looms out of a window with a shotgun... which doesn't fire. Idly, Craig peers down the barrel when it goes off, blowing away his head. The Marshall and the Abbot watch this from their own window.)
Marshall: OK, I refuse to take the rap for this. YOU are going down.
Abbot: You want to take on the Cardinal, sonny jim?
Marshall: He's in Rome. You're in Paris. I'm in Paris. YOU do the math.
Abbot: Yes... I think I feel an extistential crisis coming on. I think I might go to my room for a bit and have a lie down. Maybe even flee to Germany. Whatever takes my fancy.
Marshall: You have completely screwed up everything we planned! What are you, some kind of time traveller determined to change history!? Colbert!
(Colbert enters.)
Colbert: C-Man in da houz!!
Marshall: Kill this spiky-haired Scottish fop.
Abbot: Ah, jings.
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Post by youthofoz on Sept 14, 2012 4:42:45 GMT -5
(Back at the Louvre, Collins rushes in.)
Collins: Dude! Someone tried to kill the Admiral.
King Charlie: Oblidi oblida, life goes on.
Collins: Isn't the Admiral like your best pal?
King Charlie: Oh yeah. I want a public inquiry started to find which son of a bitch caused this outrage! I bet it was the Marshall, wasn't it? Right, from now on, the Marshall is promoted to Admiral's boydguard. If he dies, the Marshall dies. Sorted!
(The Queen Mum, hereafter referred to as "Mrs. Ratbag" enters.)
King Charlie: Oi, you, piss off! You tried to kill my mates! I should have you both executed, your heads cut off for the crowd! What a forward thinker I am!
Ratbag: The Marshall was trying to rid you of an enemy!
King Charlie: You say that EVERY time you kill my friends, you bitch.
Ratbag: The Protestants are evil! They will kill us all! And now there's a Protestant Prince, they'll kill you to get the throne.
King Charlie: PISS... OFF!!
(Mickey is bigging himself up to the Admiral, Muss and Annie in the Admiral's Pad.)
Mickey: See? If you stupid Frenchies listened to me for once, none of this would have happened. You suck. You suck bad.
(Colbert walks out of the Abbot's house and dumps the body in the gutter.)
Colbert: Yo! Wake up, and keep it real! The Abbot of Ambwarzee has been totally killed by some filthy stinking Protestants! Yeah, like, how dare they kill the guy who wanted to start genocide, huh? Free thinkers killing mass murderers! Where will it end, huh? And I'm off...
(Mickey pokes his head out the door as the crowd gathers gossiping.)
Mr Git: They shouldn't be allowed to come here! They done it!
Mrs Git: It's a wicked thing.
Git Junior: The Protestants will stop at nothing! Nothing is sacred to the Hugenots!
Mr Git: Something will have to be done! They must be banned from entering towns!
Mrs Git: Kill them all!
Mickey: Man, you French are such arseholes. I just wish the Massacre killed the lot of you. Bar Annie, I haven't met a single person who wasn't a selfish, amoral, freeloading scumbag. It's like a whole town of Torchwood.
(Mickey approaches the body.)
Mickey: OK, go on. Change your face and we can get out of here.
(Nothing happens.)
Mickey: Ok, THIS is something of a surprise. I am out of here...
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Post by youthofoz on Sept 14, 2012 5:03:28 GMT -5
(Preslin's shop. Mickey and Annie enter.)
Mickey: OK. The Doctor's dead, there's no sign of the TARDIS key, and there's a massacre tomorrow that makes Jim Jones look like an April Fool Prank. On a scale of one to ten, we're completely screwed.
(Suddenly the Doctor climbs out of the carpet.)
Doctor: Oooh! Massive brain damage! That's the killer! Molte Bene!
Mickey: What the hell were you doing in there?
Doctor: Coming down very slowly. Wow, what a buzz. Anyway, Mickey, how have you been?
Mickey: OK. You just spent three days on a massive trip at the exact same time and place a guy with your EXACT face and voice happened to be part of a conspiracy? I mean, is that suspicious or what?
Doctor: Now you come to mention it... kinda. Right, let's get out of this crapheap.
Annie: Too late, the curfew bell's rung?
Doctor: Don't tell me what the time is! I'm the Last of the Time Lords! Who are you, anyway?
Annie: Annie "No Nuts" Shapleeeeeeee, monsieur.
Doctor: You've got a Cornish accent.
Annie: Lots of Parisian wenches are born in Cornwall. Anyway, tomorrow is Saint Bartholomew's Day in honor of the transexual secret agent, so we can sneak out in the crowds.
Mickey: That's sorted then.
Doctor: Ahm, not QUITE. You know that Massacre I mentioned? The Massacre of Saint Bartolomew?
Mickey: Oooh. Shit.
Doctor: You betcha. Well, Annie, sorry, but we can't take you with us, so you can go home and hide out somewhere for tomorrow. Maybe you can blackmail a bishop or something to get out of town and settle in England?
Mickey: You really think that'd happen?
Doctor: Only one way to find out...
(At the Louvre, the Marshall is bitching to Dubar. As always.)
Marshall: Right, what you've got to do is find Mickey, blame him for the death of the Abbot, kill him and hope no one puts two and two together.
Dubar: This sucks. What the hell are YOU going to be doing, boss man?
Ratbag: Oooh, Marshall?
Marshall: Sweet crap, what do you want now, you daft old bat?
Ratbag: Stuff all this assassination business. We do the jihad tomorrow and let the mob do our work for them.
Marshall: Exsqueeze me!? You think that rioting mobs are precision instruments?
Ratbag: KILL ALL THE PROTESTANTS!
Marshall: Lady, half the Protestants are just lying to impress the chicks! You start a bloodbath, you'll wipe out most of Paris on both sides!
Ratbag: France will breath of pure air after tomorrow.
Marshall: It'll breathe fumes of rotting corpses! And what about your son in law?!
Ratbag: He's no son of mine!
Dubar: Yes, he IS, miss. Remember?
Marshall: Kill Prince Henry and there'll be a Holy War! Run by people not quite as stupid as you, you bitch!
Ratbag: If one Protestant life escapes me tomorrow, we may both regret this act of mercy!!
Marshall: Maybe, but I won't regret THIS!
(The Marshall blows her brains out.)
Dubar: That won't stop the bloodshed.
Marshall: No, but by god it made me feel good.
Dubar: But now we are to unleash the wolves of Paris. None are to be spared. At dawn tomorrow this city will weep tears of blood.
Marshall: Oh, piss off you pretentious twat.
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Post by youthofoz on Sept 14, 2012 5:03:57 GMT -5
(At the Admiral's Pad, stuff is happening in a rather nondescript way.)
De Laren: Dude, the Catholics are going to kill us! And you've actually let a Catholic Guard under a Catholic Commander GUARD your house! Are you TRYING to get killed here, Admiral?!
Admiral: Oh, stop yer whining, bitch. How the hell does Price Henry put up with you?
De Laren: Generally by me not turning up for work.
(There's a knock at the door.)
Captain: (vo) Ah, hello. Someone order a genocidal ethnic cleansing?
Muss: Sounds about right.
(Muss goes to open the door.)
De Laren: NO!!!!!
(Too late! The door opens and the Imperial Stormtroopers surge in.)
Muss: Oops. Still, I'm sure everything will sort itself out.
(Moments later, the bullet-riddled and stark naked Admiral is thrown through the upstairs windows and falls into the street where Catholics leap upon the body and tear the Admiral's head off. The Doctor and Mickey watch this on the scanner.)
Doctor: France. It's a different planet.
(The Doctor sets the controls and takes off. )
Mickey: So what happens next?
Doctor: It'll die down after a few days and twelve thousand dead, but it gets very fashionable throughout France. Religion and politics, Mickey. Never end up anywhere good. So, the Admiral, Muss, De Laren, that annoying bastard running the landlord, those washer women, that kid kicking a ball of paper... all dead.
Mickey: What about Annie?
Doctor: What have I always told you about time travel, Mickey?
Mickey: Take precautions. I never told anyone the future.
Doctor: Eh? Jings, Mickey, I mean contraceptives! How many times did you do it with that Cornish chick?
Mickey: Wait a minute...
Doctor: Now, IF Annie was smart enough to get out of town and escape to England, IF she managed to survive a perilous sea voyage while pregnant and IF she had a boy and IF that boy grew up to carry on the Chapleeeeeeee name, then we can prove she survived by finding her descendent.
Mickey: That is... creepy.
Doctor: Gallifreyan Genealogy, Mickey Boy!
Mickey: It won't. Like she could escape carnage that killed twelve thousand people!
(The TARDIS lands. A girl runs through the doors.)
Dodo: Where's the telephone?
Mickey: What? You didn't notice the whole bigger on the inside thing?
Dodo: Well, this IS a police box. It says so outside.
Doctor: Jings.
Dodo: Wait a minute, if this ISN'T a police box, what is it? And who are you?
Mickey: Piss off, girl!
Doctor: Hang on a sec, what's your name?
Dodo: Dodo.
Mickey: Man, you unlucky cow.
Dodo: Dorothea really. Dorothea Chaplet.
Mickey: Chaplet?! You're not French are you?
Dodo: Don't be daft! Me granddad was, though.
Doctor: Oh yeah! Didn't I say, Mickey? Didn't I say? Annie Chapleeee's descendant.
(They both stare at Dodo.)
Doctor: It's really rather depressing, isn't it?
Mickey: Yeah. Like the Morlocks, only a hell of a lot more personal.
Dodo: Who are you anyway?
Doctor AND Mickey: PISS OFF!
(They bundle her out the doors.)
Mickey: This story sucks immensely.
Doctor: Trust me. Wipe the video prints and give a really inaccurate novelization, they'll be lauding this as the epitome of sophistication, even after they hear the soundtrack. Now, how about dealing with a bunch of freaky aliens on the day the sun explodes and destroys the Earth?
Mickey: Any French people?
Doctor: (thinks about it) Nope.
Mickey: Power up the Crystals, Cardinal!!
Doctor: ...don't do that. No. No. Just... don't. Do that. Don't.
THE END...
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Post by silversmurfer on Oct 23, 2014 9:11:33 GMT -5
If The Massacre was a RTD story it would be like all other New Series stories, which are essentially all the same design: one or two superficial flashy look god on tv moments stitched together very weakly to provide a back drop to the latest instalment of soap.
If it were a Moffat story Steven or whoever was playing his part would have a Potter title something like 'The Companion who Waited... to see if the Doctor and the Abbot were the same person'.
In both cases Steven/Mickey would shag Chaplet and their descendant would turn up in a later story to bring the soap full circle in a tear jerking way.
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