Serial 7C/ME – The Wangst of Thomas
Brewster
The Wangst of Thomas Brewster
An Alternate Programme Guide by Ewen
Campion-Clarke
An Extract From The EC
Unauthorized Programme Guide O' My God Here We Go Again Weren’t We Sick To
Death Of The Little Shit Already?!
Serial 7C/ME – The Wangst of Thomas
Brewster -
We begin this euthanasia-emancipating-episode
by resolving the epic cliffhanger to the previous story, "The Gathering
Smugness", where the Sixth Doctor and Evelyn were attacked in the middle
of the Thames River by a giant robotic mosquito with attitude problems. Alas,
that previous story doesn’t actually exist anywhere and the more I think of it,
the more it seems this story just starts in media res.
Bugger.
So, um... yeah. What happens next? Um. The
giant alien robot mosquito attacks the Tower of London because it wants to kill
the Doctor and Evelyn (a noble enough intention, I’m sure we all agree). So
they steal a police speed boat, hotwire it and then the Doctor uses his coat to
overload the robot mosquito’s in-built fashion-style chip and cause it
collapse, writhing in agony. And then explode.
Luckily, DCI Gene "Motherfucking"
Hunt of the Metropoliton Police Force happened to be in the area and saved the
pathetic and miserable lives of our main characters – and realizes to his
slow-dawning horror he has rescued the Sixth Doctor when he was NOT travelling
with Charley Pollard, and thus loses all interest in the adventure.
Oh, Gene, I share your pain. I really do.
After an awkward conversation where the Doctor
realizes that a fictional police officer knows more about the Time Lord’s sex
life past and future than he does, they decide to pretend to forget it all and
never mention Charley Pollard again. This totally pointless and extraneous
exchange takes up a whole episode. Some might call it padding. I call it
fucking agony that makes you want to pop your own eardrums. Still, what do I
know?
THAT WAS RHETORICAL, YOU ASSHOLES!
OK. OK. The plot.
Gene Hunt reveals that East London is being
terrorized by a mysterious Professor Moriarty-style consulting criminal known
only as the Doctor, famed for his Edwardian cricketing outfit and ever-present
stench of wet celery. Yes, it seems the Fifth Doctor has finally gone over to
the dark side – and if you had to live through Alan Barnes’ so-called comedies,
well, you’d be lining up for Sith tattoos as well!
Having fulfilled the exposition quota for the
first CD, Gene heads off to the White Rabbit pub to have a philosophical chat
with the magical negroid barman and consume nine hundred and thirteen times his
own bodyweight in bottles of Scruttock’s Old Dirigible real ale.
Bored, the Doctor and Evelyn wander off and
are immediately kidnapped by a rival, South London criminal gang lead by Frank
"Make Poverty History – Cheaper Drugs Now!" Gallagher. The increasing
crackdowns on the drug-fueled Chatsworth estate have forced Frank Gallagher and
his ever-expanding army of illegitimate offspring to turn to organized crime to
make ends meet and they need the Sixth Doctor to hunt down and destroy his
previous incarnation. Amazingly, Frank is the only human being stoned enough to
understand this wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey nonsense without an episode of Doctor
Who Confidental and Steven Moffat explaining it slowly with a flip-chart.
The Doctor is all for destroying his puny,
goodie-goodie, decorative-vegetable-wearing past self but it occurs to him that
sort of temporal negation paradox could cause swarms of unstoppable dommervoy
time reapers to manifest and consume the Earth.
Instantly the Gallagher warehouse base is
under attack by flying demonic creatures and the Doctor hides under a table,
screaming hysterically and praying to Rassilon that he "only spoke in
jest, your magnificence-ness!"
Evelyn notices that the attackers aren’t
actually dommervoy but actually more alien robot mosquitoes... which, frankly,
is something of a let down as it automatically means we’re going to be denied
the immensely satisfying final showdown between Davison and Baker the Second!
God damn, that coulda been awesome!
With her usual befuddled boredom, Evelyn
wanders out into the death zone of criss-crossing laser bombardments and
DOESN’T GET A SINGLE BLOODY MARK ON HER! She then wanders into a local public
convenience and bumps into the so-called Fifth Doctor... who turns out be a
completely different young tit in cricket whites and celery.
Sigh. The title might hint as to this
roustabouts’ identity.
Yes. Not only have characters from "Life
on Mars" and "Shameless" broken into the narrative, but we have
got to put up with Thomas "Utter Cunt With No Redeeming Features Anyway
Whatsoever" Brewster. A whinging little runt so fucking annoying his
passive-aggressive emo-crap can pierce Evelyn’s senility and piss her the hell
off too!
Unsurprisingly, news of Brewster’s return
terrifies the Doctor far more than any army of robo-insects and he throws
himself out of a third-store window into oncoming traffic rather than risk
hearing a single nasal whine from the selfish prick. As is dramatically
appropriate, the Doctor not only survives this suicidal stunt, but manages to
land in the passenger seat of Gene Hunt’s Quattro and informs the DCI that
there is "one hell of an annoying son of a bitch loose in HIS
CITY!!!!"
Gene nods and picks up a submachine gun as the
Stranglers sing "No More Heroes" in the background in a suitably
ironic juxtaposition.
But before the Gene Genie can pop a cap in
Brewster’s ass, he needs to know what kind of twisted sickoes would choose to
be in Brewster’s gang – and, come to think of it, why the hell is he going
round pretending to be the Fifth Doctor?
Similar questions occur to Evelyn. Before she
settles for drop-kicking the little bastard as he pleads for the "daft old
bat" to stop hurting him because he’s a poor orphan and no one loves him
and hell, it’s not HIS fault that the entire robot-mosquito-invasion and huge
loss of life is entirely down to his totally retarded actions, is it?
"GOD DAMN IT, JOHNNY!" Evelyn
shrieks, searching for more blunt instruments the better to beat him to death
with.
Evelyn seeks the help of a passing blonde hunk
with an antique flintlock. No, it’s not Sean Beane from "Sharpe" it
is, in fact none other than Jared "No Nickname" Hansen who happens to
have been passing with his current bit on the side, an Essex girl fan of
"Fringe", early "Dollhouse" and anything involving Mark
Gatiss, a tube of superglue and a rabid domestic hamster – Philippa "Flip-Flap"
Jackson.
And any smutty innuendo about what part of
Philippa’s anatomy got her that nickname will not be tolerated! Or, at the very
least, confined solely to the CD extras and an erotic fan fic novella by Nigel
Verkoff.
Where was I? God! It’s still only episode two!
Back at the Gallagher hang-out, Frank is
amazed when he discovers the alien mosquito laser beams reduce human flesh to
piles of curious white powder. On impulse, Frank snorts them and realizes he
can supply himself with recreational drugs at the cost of innocent human life.
The moral and ethical implications silence him for a moment before he starts
shouting the word "PAAAARTTTYYY!" and then falls over.
Elsewhere, the Doctor and Gene Hunt discover
that the robot mosquitoes are being built by some speccy geek called Neville
from some shitty Airfix model kits – and if there’s a more pathetic villainous
origin story than that, frankly I don’t want to know what it is.
Just in case these robot mosquitoes had any
remaining threat, the Doctor promptly wipes out an assassination squad with an
umbrella he borrows off a passer-by. Because they’re just that crap.
Meanwhile, Jared, Flip and Evelyn catch the
next train to Great Portland Street tube station where supplies of torture
equipment are waiting to be rented from "Buy It To Riot" for them to
use on their captive Brewster, who has had a flintlock emptied into his pale
Cockeny artful-dogder-wannabe ass.
Unfortunately, the train arrives on a strange
jungle planet on the other side of the universe. And, unsurprisingly, this all
turns out to be Brewster’s stupid fault. Flip kicks him in the bollocks a lot
as he screams demands for people to respect his awesome
"underground-train-transporting-intergalactic-shifting" powers.
It quickly transpires after our heroes give
the twerp a good beating, that Brewster has once again been blindly following
ghostly aliens pretending to be his dead mother and helping them with their
plans to enslave the universe – coz, Christ knows, it ALWAYS ends happily!
Brewster is thus using the scum of London in
the ethnographic present to be brainwashed into soldiers fighting for the
living, squishy meat-planet of... I dunno, the name’s not very memorable.
Something like Symbiosis or something pathetic and Terry Nationish.
Still whimpering pathetically, Brewster leaves
Jared and his bitches to be brainwashed by the naughty aliens and returns to
Earth only to instantly be confronted by the Doctor and Gene Hunt. Brewster
does the most sensible thing he’s ever done: shits his pants, falls to his
knees and prays for the mercy of a brief and painless death.
Alas, Gene has already stripped Brewster
naked, tied him to a snooker table and is shoving a pool cue up where not even
customs inspectors would dare to probe. Brewster’s pitiful shrieks provide a
comforting background to the rest of the story.
Finally, the Doctor drags the brutalized
urchin to the alien planet where the brainwashed Jared, Flip and Evelyn can do
more violence unto his personage. At some point he claims that his girlfriend
from that last story he was in dumped him for being a self-loathing parasite
with the morals of a pubic louse and his attempt to annihilated Earth in the
middle of an interstellar war is him proving his love.
Or something. Like anyone cares...
FUCK THIS IS CRAP!!!"
Anyway, the alien zombies and the robot
mosquitoes fight each other, some random shit blows up, Jared and Flip argue
about Lady Gaga’s greatest hits, Frank finally achieves his life’s dream of
being turned into a gigantic pile of ecstasy tablets which his remaining
extended family get high on, the Doctor pulls some levers, does something
clever, that alien planet that takes over the brains of innocent people to use
them as cannon fodder turns out to be evil (SHOCK!!), the Doctor steals Jared’s
wallet, Jared gets annoyed, the Doctor loses some teeth, the Doctor gives Jared
back his wallet, the robot mosquitoes blow up, the wormhole closes, and
Brewster acts like an arse.
Eventually, the story finally takes pity on us
and stops.
Book(s)/Other Related -
Dr Who & The Declining Moral Values of Society
Doctor Who Meets An Annoying, Cowardly Piece of Pond Scum
And Makes Him A New Companion – AGAIN!
"Oh, Fuck! He’s Still
Alive!" The Unauthorized Biography of T. Brewster
"Flintlocks, Floozies and
Flip" The Authorized Biography of J. Hansen
Goofs -
Thomas Brewster.
If the alien mosquito robot gestalt
thingy can’t send the Queen through the wormhole first because the risk of the
wormhole closing and trapping her there... why does she go last? Isn’t it just
as risky for the wormhole to close and trap her on the first planet? And, given
that is EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS, it’s a legitimate concern. The Doctor apparently
deduced this totally ridiculous approach, but then again, no one in this story
acts like they’ve got two brain cells to rub together so maybe he’s just hoping
for consistent plot contrivance?
You cannot cure a computer virus by
clapping your hands and promising to believe in fairies. I have checked this
with senior IT consultants across the globe. It just doesn’t work. Believe me,
they’ve tried.
Fashion Victims -
The cover depicts the Doctor wearing
his blue zoot suit, but the story insists the Doctor is wearing his
multicolored monstrosity because that and only that is godawful enough to blind
the robot mosquitoes. What’s more, given the Doctor has preferred to wear his
blue zoot suit for most of his adventures with Evelyn, there’s no reason for
him to change back on the odd chance he’d be attacked by giant robot
mosquitoes.
So what the hell gives?! This is
HUMUNGOUSLY IMPORTANT and upon it Big Finish’s reputation, the entire history
of Doctor Who – nay, the fate of the UNIVERSE ITSELF!! – precariously hangs!
WARS HAVE BEEN FOUGHT OVER LESS! CHRIST, I HAVE GOT TO CUT DOWN THE ENERGY
DRINKS!!!
Technobabble -
According to TVTropes, Brewster’s
"death grip on the Idiot Ball" is achieved by overlapping equidistant smug-imbecile-o-tron particles with gravitas inversion drive linked to a
dumb-wanking-fuck-a-trix. This is something that is simultaneously both beyond
Earth’s technology and John Pickard’s current acting ability.
Links and References -
In her senile dementia, Evelyn has
also completely forgotten the events of The Maid Marian Conspiracy, Project:
Nightlight, The Soundman, D’you Believe This? and also most of 300. Lucky her.
Untelevised Misadventures -
The last time the Doctor fought alien
robot mosquitoes, King James II was busy selling tower bridge to some really
gullible tourists from Bermuda while an invasion by the Dropdeadgorgeous
Drahvins unfolded. I dunno about you, but I’d have preferred that adventure to
this!
Groovy DVD Extras -
The racy, controversial,
excessively-violent CENSORED "track three" which was excised from
part one due to it featuring scenes of an explicit crisp-munching,
donkey-molesting, clown-abusing nature.
Dialogue Disasters -
Evelyn: Johnny,
we’re being kidnapped!
Doctor: Yes.
Exciting, isn’t it? At this rate, some kind of plotline might turn up out of
this montage of clichés and ex-companions...
Evelyn: That’s nice,
dear. Where’s my fish?
Jared: This is madness,
Flip - a few hours ago we were on our way to Marty’s twenty-first, now we’re on
an alien planet getting ready to zap alien invaders with machine guns. And it’s
even MORE tedious than Call of Duty and Avatar combined!
Flip: Hardcore.
Seriously hardcore.
Jared: Indeed, Flip.
Indeed.
Gene Hunt: Oi, Ronald McDonald –
there’s one thing I don’t understand.
Doctor: Only the one? You understand
everything else?
(Gene punches the Doctor over a desk
and into the corner.)
Gene Hunt: Yes I do, blondie bear! You
wanna make something of it?
The special scrolling Star-Wars-style
introduction to the story:
"Hey! I never said bringing
Brewster back was a good idea! Don’t drag me into this, dude, I just said we
had some ideas I rather liked and found exciting. Did I say one of those
likeable ideas was bringing Tommy Fucknuckle Brewster back? No I did not!
Yours, John Dorney."
Doctor: No. The
Locus was right. Given the choice, if any planet deserves to be saved, it’s
Symbios, not Earth.
Flip: Are you having
a laugh?
Doctor: Spare me
your Ricky Gervais impressions, Flip, and think about it! Symbios is unique in
the universe! Peaceful! Intelligent! And sacrificing the Earth is just the sort
of unpredictable plot twist that could save this ghastly storyline! Face it,
this collage of RTD-era cartoon CGI and random ongoing characters is polluted,
its natural imagination almost exhausted, presided over by an author that has
nothing better to do than make crap jokes about Lady Gaga!
Flip: Well. When you
put it like THAT...
Doctor: I have one
question, your majesty. Why?
Robot Mosquito Queen:
Why?
Doctor: Why roam the
galaxy, accumulating the resources of every
planet that gets in
your way? What’s it all for? Give me at least SOME fig-leaf of characterization
to justify four episodes...
Robot Mosquito
Queen: Our prime directive is to extract and assimilate all mineral wealth on
behalf of those who constructed us.
Doctor: Terraforming
robots running amok - no doubt the product of a
civilization
destroyed by their own creations when they forgot to include an off switch! All
that death, all that destruction... caused by someone called Neville?!?!
Robot Mosquito
Queen: The prime directive overrides all other concerns.
Doctor:
NEVILLE?!?!?!
Evelyn: A quiet
visit to the Tower of London and we get zapped at by an alien robot bug! This
is the stupidest script I’ve ever been in!
Doctor: Do I detect
a complaint?
Evelyn: No, just a
passing observation.
Gene: Now, since I
last met you, I did some research. Well, I read The Time Traveler’s Wife. Well,
I got out the DVD. Well, I watched the first ten minutes. But apparently that’s
all you need to do to slag off Steven Moffat until the end of time.
Doctor: What on
Earth gave you that impression?
Gene: That’s the
info I got from one of my snouts, Mad Larry the Pirate King. Seems to be an
open-minded and optimistic bit of pond life. He says this current plotline’s
bad.
Doctor: Oh it IS
bad, Gene. I’d even go so far as to say that it merits the use of the word
"extremely!"
Evelyn: You’re the
Doctor?
Brewster: I am
indeed.
Evelyn: ...I don’t
believe it! You frighten Dustbins?
Brewster: Well. Not
professionally. But I’ve given the kettle some very dirty looks from time to
time...
Evelyn: That settles it! You’re not the Doctor!
Brewster: No no, I
remember now – Bill and Ted Dustbin, the notorious Dustbin brothers of San
Dimas! Of course!
Evelyn: You’re an
imposter!
Brewster: OH GOD,
YOU HORRIBLE WOMAN! STOP BEING MEAN TO ME!
Evelyn: Oh get a
fucking life, you little prick!
Flip: I’m just the Doctor’s companion.
It’s my job to ask stupid questions, look good in a miniskirt and sprain my
ankle. And I’ll do it a damn sight better than Grandma and the Artful Wanker
here...
Doctor: You’re going
to shoot us? How marvelously imaginative!
Brewster: You being
sarcastic?
Doctor: No!
Brewster: ...well...
good.
Gene Hunt’s subtle
seduction of Flip:
"I think I’ll
hold group therapy sessions for the non-stop excitement of adjusting back to
normal life. Or maybe I’ll just smash up a pub and indulge in belligerent
sexual tension. It could go either way."
Evelyn: I can't move my legs! The mud –
it’s sucking like quicksand!
Brewster: Hold on... I’m getting
sucked down too!
Flip: We’re being sucked into the mud!
Jared: This just plain sucks.
Dialogue Triumphs -
Flip: Doctor, having
a pop at Brewster isn’t going to help us!
(Long pause. A
tumbleweed rolls by.)
Flip: Sorry. Dunno
why I just said that.
Doctor: As I live
and breath! DCI Hunt! How on Earth did you find me?
Gene: I saw the
swarm of giant robot insects and applied me keen deductive reasoning, didn’t I?
It was either you or that lot from Sanctuary and frankly I’m starting to feel
ripped off.
Jared: This flat is a tip that looks like
a bomb hit it and a burglar broke in to tidy up.
Flip: I know! I love what you’ve done
with the place!
Jared: Meh. I try.
Brewster: That’s a microphone! THE
BITCH IS WIRED FOR SOUND!
Evelyn: That’s nice, Johnny. Please
fuck off now.
Doctor: Detective
Inspector, may I tell you something, and I can’t
stress this too
strongly… I am not Captain Kirk. Captain Kirk was straight. Oh, what I would do
to that Vulcan with a can of whipped cream and a ferret... oh, illogical is the
least of it...
Gene: Yes, thank you for sharing that,
oh mutual acquaintance of Dorothy! Blimey, yet another reason I wish Pussycat
Pollard was still around! Oh, and while we’re on the topic, the adventures of
Charley’s Odyssey are still retailing for $44.99. What a rip-off, eh?
Frank Gallagher: Listen. This is
serious. It has come to my undivided attention, mate, that "Norman de
Plume" is NOT your real name...
Gene: I’m a trusting
sort, Mr. Brewster. Not a cynical bone in my body. And there won’t be an
unbroken bone in YOUR body if you keep pissing me about. In fact, I think it’ll
do anyway. Raymondo, hand me the extra-long police baton and remove his
trousers!
Brewster: If I was
the Doctor, you would never be my companion.
Doctor: Thank
fucking Christ for that!
Viewer Quotes -
"Thomas Brewster is the Jeremy
Fitzoliver of the 21st Century."
- Barry Letts (2007)
"Funnier than cholera." - See The Funny Side Epidemics Weekly (2011)
"Unnecessary, unrealistic, trite,
abysmal, crow-barred into place, ephemeral, flawed, farcical, lackluster,
one-dimensional, caricatured, insignificant, off-putting, poor, extraneous,
expository and a bit wanky. Just some of the words I use to review stories and
impress people by talking very loudly in restaurants."
- Vanessa Bishop (2010)
"Pure pleasure, this release! Oh
GOD I LOVE ORAL SEX!!!"
- unidentified screams coming from the backroom of the Galaxy Bookshop
the day this story was put on sale (2010)
"Comparisons between Brewster and
Jeremy Fitzoliver are unfair – he’s an interesting character who manages to
straddle charm with true danger due to his nature, whereas Brewster is just a
badly written, badly performed pain in the backside." - Welsey Crusher (2009)
"BTW, that wasn’t a compliment.
This story sucked. Real people can be inconsistent like that, especially if
they’re paranoid schizophrenics."
- See
The Funny Side Epidemics Weekly (2011)
"I wasted a quarter of my
subscription on tumor-ridden excrement like this! Oh, and the joins between
audio tracks were just salt in the wounds, the way they skipped made me hope
for a moment that this shite was over but it’s never over never ever ever over..."
- the Sherriff of Nottingham from 'Robin of Sherwood' (1986) which
amazingly doesn’t make sense in ANY other context whatsoever
"I don’t know if it was the
direction or the sound design, but the first time I listened to it, it just
sounded new. Shiny new; almost like it was missing something. But it just fit
with the rest of the story. The closest I can come to describing it is that the
top of the container was left off. If the audio is inside of the container, the
top is left off and everything that is happening is free to the whole world. It’s
a strange way of describing it, but it’s what I think."
- random heroin addict on twitter (2010)
"I’d rather listen to a tape loop
of leaf blower noise than Howard Carter’s bombastic score. Assuming there’s a
difference."
- Guy Sebastian (2012)
"Do people really find Brewster
as annoying as Jeremy Fitzoliver? Blimey! Jeremy was
useless, toffy, blundering, unintelligent and foolish. He’s Mahatma Ghandi in
comparison to that Cockney urchin fuckwit! OH GOD I HATE HIM! I don’t even love
to hate him, I hate the fact he exists! I HATE HIMMMM!!!"
- Richard "bloke who played Jeremy Fitzoliver" Pearce (2012)
"Just out of interest, why -
exactly - do some people hate Brewster so much? What is it about the character
they find annoying? I’d be interested to know... that knowledge, that power,
WOULD SET ME UP ABOVE THE GODS! AND THROUGH BREWSTER I WILL HAVE THAT
POWER!!!"
- ABC press release for 'Chris Lilley’s Angry Boys' (2011)
Psychotic Nostalgia -
"Does Big Finish have a Penge
agenda? Three stories set there in five months. Or five stories set there in
three months. What is Penge anyway? It sounds like something Douglas Adams
sneezed up after one too many tequila shots at Milliways. Or maybe some nasty
yeast infection. I might have caught penge off a Vietnamese ladyboy back in 97.
You don’t have any antibiotics on you by any chance, do you?"
Colin Baker Speaks!
"When they told me that I had to
have Brewster as a companion for three stories, I just said 'Oh dear' and
became very, very depressed. Oddly enough, David Richardson and the others were
also depressed. We just sat there in a Chekov-style gloom of despondency,
wondering what in the name of sanity we’d done to deserve it. I remember
Sylvester McCoy laughed at my misery. But his day will come, and he’ll have to
have three stories with that ungrateful Brewster fucker... None of my daughters
are country cricketers. I wonder why."
Rumors & Facts –
I confess I wasn’t hugely enthused for
this outing. The very title alone drove me to acts of self-harm. And the
knowledge that there were two more stories of Brewster pissing off absolutely
everyone in all of creation coming made me suffocate a cat with a pair of
Chinese worry-balls. So when I got halfway through this release without the
blessed oblivion of death, I realized something vitally important: METH
AMPHETAMINES WORK, DAMMIT!!!
Whilst this isn’t Jonathon Morris’s greatest
script, it is the worst piece of crap to have his named soldered onto it with a
length of hot wire and also kicks off Doctor Who’s 48th year like a diagnosis
of Herpes while taking a paternity test with Omar Sharif.
This stomach-churning tale of deceit and
betrayal started as so many tales do with the executive production team of Big
Finish realizing yet another year of cheap, poorly-made, derivative,
disposable, unliked, illegally-downloadable crud had to be made and they had to
be the ones to do it. That sort of foreknowledge can inspire suicide in lesser
men and when we’re talking about Big Finish, there ARE no lesser men.
Having recently finished sifting through
thousands of write-in script submissions from all over the world, the head
honchoes (David Sax, Alan Barnes, David Richardson and JHE) realized a
universal truth they had begun to recklessly overlook:
They didn’t actually LIKE their so-called
customers.
Thus they decided their number-one priority
for 2011 would be to make the lives of DW fans as unbearable as possibly by giving
them stories so unutterably awful many a Whovian would be found dead having
slashed their wrists at the mere thought of them. This approach got them in
real trouble with BBC Wales, as Steven Moffat was trying to do the exact same
thing and was worried their different methods might cancel out the
mass-lemming-genocide both hoped to achieve.
While Moffat decided to destroy the denizens
of Outpost Gallifrey via the fearful method of Total River Song Saturation, Big
Finish tried to do something similar. But where could they find a companion as
utterly annoying, smug, hate-inducing and spiteful as River Song?
Then, of course, they realized.
Yes. They would bring back Thomas Brewster.
The estimated death toll in the first minute following
this announcement was roughly 731 fans across the globe. Moffat later tweeted "#impressed:
Touché, Big Finish. Touché."
The logical choice to write this abomination
was the same vulpine degenerate who penned the original story, The Fawning of
Thomas Brewster: Jonathan "Sanity Bores Me" Morris, who was delighted
to once again write for his most odious creation. "You can’t keep a good
man down – or even a cunt like Brewster," Morris observed.
Thinking that Brewster had been "toned
down" in his last appearance in "The Two Companions (And That Little
Shit Called Thomas Brewster)", Morris was determined to make Brewster even
WORSE this time round, until even the C'Rizz, Mel and Adric haters renounced them
and worshipped the Spite of Brewster.
Personally, I think Morris just has impossibly
high standards, given
The Two Companions consisted almost
entirely of Brewster driving Polly and the Brigadier to
Spanish-Inquisition-style lengths to make the twat suffer over no less than
thirty-seven separate CDs.
Alan Barnes meanwhile vetted the storyline
proposals to ensure that nothing new was said and everything occurred solely
for nostalgia’s sake with absolutely no new perspectives – thus ensuring the
listeners would feel monumentally awful and useless. Again, I feel Barnes
wasn’t confident in his own abilities, since he achieves all that by ripping
off 1970s British TV comedies and removing all the jokes.
To ensure nothing enjoyable ended up in the
story by mistake it was decided to down the plot in return appearances by old
characters, such as DCI Gene Hunt, Jared Hansen and his latest bitch Flip. As
the latter two hadn’t actually appeared in Big Finish before, a story was
hastily commissioned to resolve that predestination problem before someone’s
grandfather shot himself through the head and suddenly Nazis were riding
dinosaurs through the town square.
Alas, these scenes unbalanced the flow of the
entire storyline and the plot... what there was of it... only began during the
last five minutes of episode four, and were pretty damn padded five minutes as
well.
Exactly how my good friend, bail guarantor and
intellectual threat Jared "No Nickname" Hansen ended up in the Moat
Studios on the other side of the planet from his usual stomping grounds to be
cast AS HIMSELF as a main character in a play he still hasn’t heard to, is a
truly amazing story. And if you think I’m going to waste such an epic by
publishing it on this crappy backwater of a blog, then you are very much
mistaken!
But, since you all know where I live, I will
briefly outline it.
Basically, Jared though that he finally had
the chance to kill his nemesis, Tom Petty, but to his immense frustration found
out that he HADN’T travelled backwards in time at all and it was just another
trap of the Ken Doll’s... or something... actually, I’m not entirely sure about
the chain of events here... it’s quite confusing, actually.
Anyway, this whole story felt very throwaway.
By which I mean I wanted to throw it away as soon as I saw the name of the
play. But please, let us not for a moment think that I am criticizing any part
of it because if I did then the Evil Minions of Threek have threatened to
demand, in handwritten letters every hour on the hour, Big Finish produce an
ongoing spin-off experimental comedy of nothing but Brewster and Lucie Miller
talking about abstract Cartesian logic and industrial solvents in Glaswegian
accents.
Unless we want to risk billions of letters
swamping Big Finish in a tidal wave of cataclysmic public pressure, we’ll just
have to accept that this story isn’t bad. Because to be a story, it would have
to be ABOUT something, wouldn’t it?
The Official Doctor Who Magazine dubbed The
Wangst of Thomas Brewster "An intoxicating cocktail. Or, to put it another
way, this is so bad it will drive a teetotaler to knock back absinthe. Even
Escape To Danger On The Planet In Space is better than this – and that’s
marginally worse than genital warts on elderly relatives.
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