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May 02, 2008

Giving Sontarans Silly Things To Do

Shakedown What is it with Sontarans and their thorax obsession? They manage to shoe horn it into every single conversation when they're with, in the proximity of, or absolutely no where near human females. They're always yammering on about it, in The Time Warrior, in Mindgame Trilogy, in Shakedown: Return of the Sontarans (the latter I accidentally watched instead of the real return of the Sontarans and remain in total hysterics at the voice one of their number puts on which sounds a lot like the grotesquely disfigured and partially mechanised Harry from Nebulous impersonating the League of Gentleman's serial auditioner Pamela Doove - "Unlike you, Professor, I no longer have a working thorax" etc...).

The Thorax Monologues - a dizzyingly pointlessly, CGI heavy, DVD extra.

Have the Sontarans, at some point, digested a badly written species primer on humans and think that the very definition of charm is to draw attention to a woman's thorax? One mention of it and they're putty in your pudgy three fingered palm. I wouldn't be that surprised if there was a dizzyingly pointlessly CGI heavy extra on the forthcoming Sontaran box set, called The Thorax Monologues, where three aged comediennes take it in turns to talk about their thorax - in an hallucinogenic computer-recreated set of the Magpie studios - ejected from the right nostril of a gigantic spinning head - in an explosion that looks worst than one from 1973. Probably.

Just don't, what ever you do, take a Sontaran on a stag trip to Bangkok, they'd be totally befuddled.

Doctor Who: The Sontaran Stratagem

Well, they're back. I mean really back. Not pitching up in some 90's fan video or advertising Cup-a-Soups on the tele, and they're knocking out stuff from an Innovations catalogue. Following on from extensive work in The Sontaran Experiment, where humans near total inability to read maps was violently and graphically tested (at least in the novelisation it was), they followed that up with the triple synergistic approach of the The Sontaran Focus Group and The Sontaran Consumer Acceptance Testing before The Sontaran Market Penetration Team swung into action and out farted the ATMOS device. At least we now know how the Sontaran military machine funds itself: knockout motoring accessories and flog them wholesale to gullible proles regardless of their thorax construction. They could further bolster their coffers by offering pairs of furry Rutans to adorn rear view mirrors, a series of humorous sentiments captured in bumper sticker form (including My Other Car's An Inferno Class Battle Cruiser and the Judoon favourite Honk If You're Horny) and cup holders big enough to accommodate a bargain bucket of fried turtle necks and filleted sheep bladders to the disgusting masses.

From The Worzels to The Wire.

Rattigan It's unclear how they managed to snare a child genius to assist them with their dastardly plans. Perhaps he was hooked in via the Junior Innovations catalogue (or the Bazooka Joe Prize Catalogue). Perhaps they streamed straight into his brain a Saturday morning cartoon rip-off of Dastardly and Mutley in Their Flying Machines where a gang of grotesques attempt to "Stop That Rutan". Or perhaps they just followed the time honoured tradition of the Nigerian scam email device to hookwink the closest bibbling imbecile:- wealthy illegal alien requires help in moving millions of dollars from his homeland promises a hefty reward in return for assistance. Probably described himself as a member of a military service to add a certain level of respectability to the message. Just not which military service. And who did they find to fill this roll - non other than a precocious little talent who's accent shifts from The Worzels to The Wire. Just listen to him when he says "Suppose you're the Doctor". Can't you almost taste that blade of grass you're chewing on and the cider you've just polished off?

Serving trough of egg rolls at an all you can eat Chinese buffet.

Marthaclone And Martha. What of poor Martha? Last seen with tread marks all over her as she ran headlong into someone else's story arc. Perhaps it was as a direct result of her Torchwood stint that they decided to give her more screen time with an evil twin, to make up for all that character development she missed out on due to Owen sulking about impersonating maggot food. Also, how many false alarms have their been when she almost recalled the Doctor only to find out at the last moment that there wasn't any alien activity. And why didn't she pick up the phone when Buckingham Palace was almost pureed by a Douglas Adams computer game? Or when the planet was being buzzed by Steve Speilberg space craft hoovering fat creatures up like John Prescott attacking a serving trough of egg rolls at an all you can eat Chinese buffet? Surely either occurrence would merit a call more than a company banging out satnav devices? If this is the level of paranoia that exists then surely those Innovations catalogue people would have been first into the newly founded UNIT water-boarding theme park.

A five-year-old spurting random words through a mouth full of Lego bricks.

The poor love. She's obviously been all of a tiz working on that first line to think straight. That magical first killer line she'd use when eventually calling the Doctor. And what comes out? "Doc-ta. It's Mar-fa. And I'm bringing you back to Earth."  Back to Earth? Apart from sounding a little bit odd (...back down to Earth, anyone?) hasn't she forgotten that he's usually to be found on Earth? Contemporary Earth at that. Never mind an interstellar, pan-dimensional phone call - a sodding second class stamp would probably have done the trick. And you'd have been able to compose something that didn't come out sounding like a five-year-old spurting random words through a mouth full of Lego bricks.

That is if you hadn't just used that last second class stamp to send off for an Innovations catalogue electric goat filleting machine...


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