25/11/2012

Doctor Who Special: The UNIT Picnic

To celebrate the 49th anniversary of Doctor Who, we have unearthed a previously unscreened scene buried deep in a vault somewhere. Transcribed here, you can see that the original version of the 1971 classic `The Daemons` might have been somewhat different..
A strange storm of wind and rain has descended over the picturesque English village of Devil’s End. The wind is so powerful that the local unconvincing policeman is only able to walk horizontally and the local white witch Miss Hawthorne is declaiming “Avast ye elementals!” in a very loud voice.
Sgt Benton approaches her, “Excuse me, Miss, are you a pirate?”
She looks at him as if he is mad and yells, “No, I am not a pirate young man, I am Miss Hawthorne, the local white witch.”
“Well you don’t have to shout.”
“I am trying to disperse these elemental storms, young man.”
Benton grinned; “Sorry, Miss, they aren’t storms. It’s Sergeant Osgood’s turn to make the soup. He’s used rather too much minestrone I think.”
As the storm clears, it becomes clear that the village green is covered in several UNIT vehicles and a number of grey blankets have been arranged on the grass. Bert the Landlord is passing and Jo Grant, who is sporting a croched red and white striped poncho with glitter edging asks if he’d like to join them.
He shakes his head, “No thanks, love. I’ve already been invited to the Vicar’s rave in the Cavern.”
“Ooo, groovy, that’s where the Beatles started isn’t it?”
“The cavern underneath the church over there, I mean.”
Jo looks excited and approaches the Brigadier who is watching Osgood stir a large vat of thick liquid.
“Are you sure that’s minestrone, Osgood?”
The harassed looking Sergeant nods though his glasses are completely blacked out
“Absolutely sir, it’ll be spiffing soup.”
Frowning, the Brigadier puts his stick into the soup whereupon it fizzles into splinter of wood.
“Oh thanks, sir, that’ll really add to the flavouring.”

Captain Yates emerges from a helicopter
“Yates?” queries the Brigadier, “You used my helicopter?”
“No sir, I have my own now.”
“Where the blazes did you get that from?”
“Oh, I saved up Weetabix tokens. It’s only taken me twenty years”.
“What the devil are you talking about?”
Miss Hawthorne pops up form a grassy hill behind which she has been hiding.
“What the devil indeed, Brigadier? I tell you there is something afoot today.”
“Nonsense, Miss Hawthorne. We chose this village for our annual UNIT picnic because it is statistically the safest place in the country.”
“I tell you, Brigadier there is evil about tonight.”
“Really, well if you think that perhaps you should meet my scientific advisor. Captain Yates, where is the Doctor?
“He’s upstairs at the Cloven Hoof, sir.”
The Brigadier did not look impressed, “The Doctor’s still in bed?”
“Yes, sir, I think he had rather too much to drink last night.”
Jo interrupts ;“Brig; will I be alright to check out the groovy rave in the cavern?”
“Liverpool, Miss Grant? I hope you won’t be taking my helicopter. Take Captain Yates’.”

Jo sneaks carefully down the stairwell inside the church entrance. As she reaches the foot of the stairs, red and orange lights play on her face and the sound of chanting is audibly echoing around the stone chamber.
“..As my will so mote it be...”
 “Oh I like this one,” mutters Jo and starts to dance about like someone who has had ten thousand volts of electricity passed though them.
Whirling around, she knocks over several pots and pans, the clatter causing a group of cowled men to turn in her direction. As she continues to spin around unaware of her surroundings, a bearded man in a large orange cape walks towards her. She stops spinning when she bumps into him.
“Oh, wow. You look just like the evil Master,” she exclaims before passing out.

The Doctor opens one eye at the sound of rapping on the door. Then the other. Finally he sighs and stands up to open it.
“Yeth?”
“Oh hello. My name is Miss Hawthorne..”
The Doctor immediately strikes a ridiculous pose,.
“Hai!” he shouts but before Miss Hawthorne can return what she thinks is a robust greeting, she is being hurled across the room.
“Ow!” she exclaims, after slamming into the dressing table, “That hurt.”
The Doctor looks sheepish, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir, I thought you were an Auton.”
She stands up, straightening her hair which has re-shaped itself into a perfect replica of the Eiffel Tower.
“I am Miss Hawthorne, a white witch and I have come to warn you.”
“Terribly sorry, Mr Hawthorne..”
“Miss..”
“What did I miss? You see I was asleep.”
“Well there are dangerous things happening out there. The village has been sealed off by a barrier of heat.”
“Ah well, that was my idea actually. Lethbridge Stewart said he didn’t want to be disturbed so I rigged up a little something to keep people out.”
“And then there’s the new vicar, Mr Magister.”
“Good grief, that jackanapes!”
“What?”
“Of course! Magister is Latin for `the new vicar who is really someone evil and not a vicar at all”
He leaps into action jumping out of the first floor window looking a little bit like Terry Walsh and flattening twelve Morris dancers.

The Brigadier is about to taste the soup when the Doctor shouts, “Lethbridge Stewart you do realise The Master is here!”
“In the soup? No, no he’s not.”
“Don’t be obtuse, man., Here in Devil’s End posing as the vicar.”
Captain Yates looked puzzled, “How can he be here Doctor? It was only last Wednesday he was mixed up in that Axos business.  It would be impossible for someone to come here, pretend to be a vicar, buy lots of robes and order a pair of horn rimmed spectacles in six days.”
“He could have ordered the spectacles before he came here,” suggested Osgood, “I know when I got these,,”
“Sergeant will you shut up!” yelled the Brigadier.
“Where’s Jo?” asked the Doctor.
“I think she’s gone to Liverpool,” replied the Brigadier, “Said something about the cavern. ”
“Good grief, Lethbridge Stewart, see sense man! She’s gone into that church – she’s in danger!”

The whole party heads for the church, Osgood struggling to carry the vat of soup, but as they approach a stone gargoyle leaps out from behind a gravestone and blocks their way.
“Bouncers for a church?” says Yates, “This new vicar must be great!”
The Brigadier is in no mood to wait, calling up Benton who is carrying a bazooka.
“Chap with wings there. Five round rapid.”
Benton points and fires the bazooka at a villager watching nearby; who ducks but his house explodes in a fireball.
”What the blazes did you do that for?”
“Sorry, sir, I thought he was Denny Laine”
The Doctor looked at them disdainfully, “Really, that is the lamest 1970s joke ever.”
“I don’t know Doctor,” replied the Brigadier with a wry grin, “It would have been lame if he’d said Paul McCartney.”
The explosion has however disorientated the gargoyle and the Doctor gets past it and heads into the church.

In the cavern, Jo is wearing a white robe and looking distressed.
“I would rather have something more colourful,” she says.
The Master laughs evilly, “It doesn’t matter what you are wearing, Miss Grant, soon you will be a sacrifice. It is time!”
He throws more Chinese food into a wok which belches smoke and the whole room begins to shake
“As my will so mote it be…”
In a heat haze at one end of the cavern, a figure that looks a bit like the devil if you don’t look very closely begins to materialise and grows bigger and bigger.
“Azal it is you?” asks The Master expectantly.
“Erm, not really,” came the meek and distinctly un-booming reply.
“I don’t understand.”
“Well you see, Azal is out. I am Eric, his personal assistant.”
“But Azal is the last of the deamons is he not?”
“Erm, yes he is. And I am the last of the deamon’s personal assistants.”
“So you do have the power to pass over the Daemons’ power to me?”
“Well, er, no.  I can take a message though.”

Jo is looking bored.
“This is bit rubbish isn’t it? Think I’ll go back to the picnic.”
She starts to make her way out unnoticed by the cowled figures who are checking text messages under their hoods.
She meets the Doctor at the foot of the steps
“Jo, are you alright? I thought the Master was down here.”
“No, it’s a really bad night club. Can we have some of Sgt Osgood’s soup now?”

The Master is left fuming as his minions wander off.
He looks up at the daemon Eric who asks,  “You couldn’t give me a hand could you- I seem to have got my horns stuck in the roof.”

Outside there is much frivolity so that even when the church explodes people just laugh and point.
Instead, they gather round the maypole.
“Fancy a dance, Brigadier?” asks Captain Yates.
“Actually, I’d rather have a pint.”
“As long as Sergeant Osgood doesn’t make it, eh, sir?”
And they laugh slightly too much and for too long like at the end of a sitcom episode. 


"Hey lads, don't start the picnic without me!!"





 

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