Storytime! Charles Augustus Milverton (2/2)
John Elliott
[221B again. Jo is putting the finishing touches to her makeup. Martha
enters, dressed in her walking-the-Earth costume.]
Master / Narrator:
Holmes walked out with the maid for several evenings, until he had all the
information he needed. Then he revealed his plan to Watson.
Jo / Holmes:
I thought we'd go and see Li H'sen Chang this evening. That show has some
wonderful reviews.
Martha / Watson [in an angry whisper]:
You're supposed to be planning to burgle Milverton's house.
Jo / Holmes:
Oh, please? We're both really looking forward to it. Dalek Zeta would be
so disappointed if I didn't show.
Martha / Watson:
That's his name, is it? Zeta?
Jo / Holmes:
Yes, didn't I tell you? Of course, he calls me Sherlock and I call him
Agatha. He's very sweet.
Martha / Watson:
Oh, please. Someone pass me a sick bag.
Master / Narrator:
Are either of you two actually going to make yourselves useful and move
the plot along?
Martha [losing her temper]:
No! I'm fed up with having to tell everyone how this thing is supposed to
happen! Look at me. I've had to go and get hold of all this burgling gear
and now all Jo's interested in is making eyestalks at her death-machine
boyfriend. [She rounds on Jo.] What about Cliff, anyway?
Jo:
Oh, he's very understanding. We have an open engagement.
Master / Narrator:
So, you're going to go on strike, are you?
Martha:
Yes, I am. And if you're thinking of threatening me with the Bradleyard,
don't bother. I was in 'Last Of The Time Lords', matey. Do you think even
he could match that?
Master / Narrator:
Ooh, mi-aow. You know your trouble? You don't eat enough rhubarb. I'm
going to put that in my next manifesto, you know. "Everyone should eat
much more rhubarb". Though, to be fair, you've got a point. You couldn't
drag Doctor/Master slash subtext out of the Bradleyard even if you used
Rodrigo's tow truck. Anyway, are you going to do anything or am I supposed
to find your hissy fit impressive?
Martha:
I'm going to do this.
[She activates the Vortex Manipulator on her wrist, and vanishes in a blue
haze.]
Master / Narrator:
Oi! That's cheating! [He pauses to get his temper under control.] Now,
Miss Grant--
[But Jo is also missing, having long since departed to keep her appointment
with Dalek Zeta.]
Master / Narrator:
Oh, great. No Holmes and no Watson.
He flipped through the remaining pages of the story.
Master / Narrator:
They've got precious little to do from now on. You might as well cast
pig-slaves or marshmen...
[With a puff of smoke, Francois the Ogron appears, a deerstalker balanced
on his head at a precarious angle and a sock puppet of a cat on his hand.]
Master / Narrator:
... or even Ogrons. What did I do to deserve this?
Francois / Holmes:
In Ogrons' opinion, skinny weasel-man incompetent. Same reason weasel-man
destroy one quarter of known universe without meaning to. [He turns to his
glove puppet.] Doctor Moggy got all burgling kit?
[He replies to himself in a falsetto voice, miming movements with the
glove puppet.]
Francois / Watson:
<Yes, Holmes. Crowbar. Little hammer. Big hammer. Sledge hammer. Club with
nail in it.>
Master / Narrator [gritting his teeth]:
So they crept up to the silent, gloomy house...
[A darkened bungalow, surrounded by a high wall. Various crashing noises
are heard, and Francois smashes a hole in the wall with his sledgehammer.]
Master / Narrator:
There was a ferocious dog on guard.
[The werewolf from 'Tooth and Claw' bounds towards Francois. He picks it
up with one hand and casually bashes it with his club. It collapses.
Francois kicks the conservatory door down, and marches into the house.]
Master / Narrator:
"Stealthy." I think not. You can't trust an Ogron to get anything right.
They crept carefully through the house, but the only creature they met was
a cat.
[A corridor. Francois is walking along it. A Cheetah person opens a door
to one side, leans out, and waves, to the accompaniment of tinkly showbiz
music. Francois makes his sock puppet bow low in return.]
Master / Narrator:
And before long, they got to the study.
[Milverton's study. A heavy curtain conceals a bay window. In the middle
of the room is a table; in the corner, a safe.
Master / Narrator:
Watson spotted that the outer door wasn't locked. He drew Holmes's
attention to it.
Francois / Watson:
<Bitchy trampoline leaving door unlocked. Surely this contrary to regular
security procedure.>
Francois / Holmes:
Francois not caring. Doctor Moggy taking good care to keep rubberneckers
away while Francois open safe.
[He launches into a prolonged and noisy attack on the safe, with his
hammers and crowbar.]
Master / Narrator:
At the very moment that they managed to break into the safe, Holmes heard
approaching footsteps! At once they hid behind the curtain.
Francois:
Why? Someone come, someone get bashed. No problem.
Master / Narrator:
Because I say so. And if you don't, I'll dock your pay.
Francois:
Francois getting pay for this? News to Francois.
[He nevertheless hides behind the curtain. Cassandra glides into the room,
accompanied by her guards. One guard stands in front of her and holds out
the /Times/, turning the pages every now and again. The other one
moisturises Cassandra from time to time.]
Master / Narrator:
Milverton sat there reading while Holmes and Watson grew more and more
impatient. But then...
[The clock moves forward another hour. Someone knocks at the door.]
Cassandra / Milverton:
Open the door.
[A guard does so. A woman enters. She has a veil over her face and is
wearing a cloak.]
Cassandra / Milverton:
Moisturise me. Then leave us alone.
[The guards spray her, and depart.]
Cassandra / Milverton:
Now, let us get down to business. You say you have five letters which
compromise the Countess d'Albert. You want to sell them. I want to buy
them...
[The woman removes her veil. It's Ace.]
Cassandra / Milverton:
Oh. It's you.
Ace:
Yeah. And you'd better say your prayers, scumbag, because you're dead meat.
Cassandra / Milverton:
Don't imagine that you can bully me. I have only to raise my voice, and I
could call my servants and have you arrested.
Ace:
Think again, Posh Spice.
[She draws her blaster, and puts a bolt into Cassandra's brain tank, which
blows up in a shower of tomato sauce.]
"That's not wight," Baby Nyssa said. "There shouldn't be blood everywhere."
That statement got her several astonished stares.
"It should be bwain fluid," she continued calmly. "You could use lemonade
if you let it go flat first. And cauliflower and wice pudding for the bits of
bwain..."
Tegan put her hand up.
"Mister," she said. "I fink Dodo's going to be fwow up."
[Ace wipes a splash of ketchup off her face.]
Ace:
Toerag.
[She leaves. We hear her motorbike rev up, and fade away.]
Francois / Holmes:
That saving Francois some work. Back to guarding door, Doctor Moggy.
[Francois takes hold of the safe door, and pulls it clean off.]
Francois / Holmes:
Now we burn papers.
[He starts throwing papers onto the fire. Gradually the fire increases in
size, until the carpet is burning as well.]
Francois / Holmes:
Remember to keep good watch, Doctor Moggy.
[A Sea Devil dressed in a butler's costume tries to push its way in.
He casually clubs it without looking.]
Francois / Watson:
<Yes, Holmes. More people coming.>
[Francois tips the last of the blackmailing papers on the fire.]
Francois / Holmes:
There. All on fire. Time to go.
Francois / Watson:
<Look. Violent lady was leaving this by door.>
[He points the sock puppet at a large black sphere marked BOMB in 60-point
Times New Roman. A smouldering fuse is attached to it.]
Francois / Watson:
<Perhaps if we restoring lost property to violent lady, lady give reward?>
Francois / Holmes:
No, Doctor Moggy. Francois world-famous detective, not cloakroom attendant.
Lady leave stuff lying around, lady expect to lose stuff. Time to go.
[He kicks the door down (though it wasn't locked) and saunters off.]
Master / Narrator:
Behind them, the huge house was one blaze of light.
[Behind them, the huge house is wiped from the face of the earth in a
spectacular detonation.]
The shouting and cheering was, if anything, even louder this time.
"I can hear that!" Izzy's voice called. Her footsteps were rapidly
approaching. "And where's all the tomato sauce gone?"
She burst through the door and took in the chaotic scene.
"You've done it again, haven't you?" she asked.
"Oh, so it's all down to me?" The Master shot a savage glare at her. "Let
me say this to the right honourable lady. This is all Martha Jones's fault.
If she hadn't skived off halfway through none of this would have happened.
She's not getting any more starring roles in my stories, I promise you. She
can have a backbench career and like it."
Izzy waved a hand dismissively.
"I don't care whose fault it is. You can stop and you can stop now. It'll
take hours to get these children settled down again."
"But there's only one more scene!" the Master protested.
"I don't care if there's only one more line. Dalek!"
An imperial Dalek glided into the room.
"Mr. Saxon is leaving now. Make sure he does."
"YOU WILL NOT RESIST," the Dalek said, forcibly conducting the Master toward
the main door.
Izzy turned back in the direction of the kitchen, only to see Baby Peri
wandering towards her.
"Peri?" she asked. "What happened?"
Peri held up her finger triumphantly.
"It comed out all by itself," she said. "But the plug got stuck in the sink
and I can't turn the tap off and there's a lot of water coming over the side."
"I was a plumber in the story!" Jo volunteered, waving a plastic wrench.
"I'll sort it out!"
"I want to be a plumber too!" Vicki shouted.
"And me!"
About half the toddlers stampeded from the room.
Little Jamie gently wiped the tears from Victoria's face. Unfortunately for
Victoria, he was using a painting rag to do this.
"There, there," he said. "I'm sure yon puir doggie wasnae blown up at the
end. He probably went back tae Scotland. Aye, he'd like it there."
"It was still a horrid story," Victoria said, her lip trembling.
"I thought it was funny," Jamie said. "What d'ye reckon, Zoe?"
Zoe, who had been methodically tearing a very large sheet of shiny paper
into very small strips, looked up.
"I think the Principia Mathematica would have been much more interesting,"
she said primly.
"Aye, but when we had Macbeth ye said... that thing... would have been
better," Jamie pointed out. "And there's nothing better than Macbeth."
"The Principia is a very interesting book." As if to indicate that any
further argument was futile, she went back to her paper-tearing.
Jamie looked around for support, in vain. Nyssa and Ace were busy trying to
construct what they considered an accurate exploding brain model. Victoria
was seeking solace in the arms of the nursery's latest toy, a knitted Adipose
five times the proper size. Everyone else seemed to be either in the kitchen,
or peering avidly through the doorway at the deteriorating situation therein.
"Well," he said to himself. "I liked it, anyway."
[
* "Doctor Who" characters are owned by the BBC.
* "The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton" was written by Sir
Arthur Conan Doyle and is, I believe, in the public domain.
* This Time Round originated by Tyler Dion.
* Look Who's Talking created by Imran Inayat.
* Storytime, the Bradleyard, François and Mr. Moggy created byBKWillis.
]
--
John Elliott
Thinks: This is what a nice clean life leads to. Hmm, why did I ever lead one?
-- Bluebottle, in the Goon Show
Daibhid Ceanaideach
> "Well," he said to himself. "I liked it, anyway."
I agree with Jamie. Bravo!
--
Dave
"I thought Billie Piper was an oil rig."
-Sandi Toksvig, The News Quiz
Daibhid Ceanaideach
> On 27 Apr 2008, John Elliott <j...@seasip.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>
>> "Well," he said to himself. "I liked it, anyway."
>
> I agree with Jamie. Bravo!
Oh, and is the bit with Leela handing the letter to Martha a reference to a
theory I read somewhere that Holmes couldn't read, hence his handing all
his post to Watson with the words "Tell me what you make of this"? (It
doesn't hold water, of course, because Holmes reads the papers, and his
compedium, and Who's Who all the time, and it assumes Watson reads aloud,
when there's no indication he does so [except on TV], but it's a fun theory
nonetheless.)
Paul Andinach
news:Xns9A8DA3E56A388da...@130.133.1.4:
> On 27 Apr 2008, John Elliott <j...@seasip.demon.co.uk> wrote:
>
> > "Well," he said to himself. "I liked it, anyway."
>
> I agree with Jamie. Bravo!
I agree with Jamie and Daibhid. Bravo!
And another "Bravo!" specially for the brilliant casting choices.
Paul
--
The Pink Pedanther
vj
And I couldn't help noticing the ref. to "when we had Macbeth". Now
there's an idea. <smiles nicely>
Vicky
BKWillis
But my favorite line, which I find funny because it's so... unsettling... is
this one:
> Jo / Holmes:
> Yes, didn't I tell you? Of course, he calls me Sherlock and I call him
> Agatha. He's very sweet.
Good job.
BKWillis
--
"If our lives were to be made into a story, would you consider yourself to
be the hero? Have you ever thought... that you might be the bad guy?"
--Lingshen Chao in 'Magical Teacher Negima'
John Elliott
: Oh, and is the bit with Leela handing the letter to Martha a reference to a
: his post to Watson with the words "Tell me what you make of this"?
Let's say I had the theory in mind when doing that particular bit. Call
it a ShoutOut. (Sigh. TVTropesWillRuinYourVocabulary).
John Elliott
: LOL! Great fun.
: And I couldn't help noticing the ref. to "when we had Macbeth". Now
: there's an idea. <smiles nicely>
Ohhh no. Inspire me once, you get a tale. Inspire me twice, my brain might
fail. Which that would mean flat lemonade and rice pudding and cauliflower
everywhere.
John Elliott
: Peri held up her finger triumphantly.
: "It comed out all by itself," she said. "But the plug got stuck in the
: sink and I can't turn the tap off
Gaah. Peri should say 'faucet', shouldn't she? That is, if she were a
proper American in the first place.
Paul Andinach
news:jn23vf...@seasip.demon.co.uk:
> Gaah. Peri should say 'faucet', shouldn't she? That is, if she
> were a proper American in the first place.
Considering the number of times Peri's vocabulary has diverged from
"proper American", even in the canon, I think you're probably safe.
vj
> vj <vjew...@yahoo.co.uk> wrote:
> > : And I couldn't help noticing the ref. to "when we had Macbeth". Now
> : there's an idea. <smiles nicely>
>
> Ohhh no. Inspire me once, you get a tale. Inspire me twice, my brain might
> fail. Which that would mean flat lemonade and rice pudding and cauliflower
> everywhere.
<sulks>
Oh, well. I just wondered. It would have been fun & I really don't
think I'd be up to that one. Austen and the Mabinogion, but not
Macbeth. Anyone else? :-D
Vicky
John Elliott
: Oh, well. I just wondered. It would have been fun & I really don't
: think I'd be up to that one. Austen and the Mabinogion, but not
: Macbeth. Anyone else? :-D
Since I decided that I wouldn't try, of course I've thought of nothing
else all day. Combined with ideas from the 'Nameless' thread. Whether I'll
get it finished, I don't know; but I cannot avoid a proper go.
--
John Elliott Doctor: Not so sick, my lord,
As she is troubled with thick-coming fancies
That keep her from her rest.
-- Macbeth, by William Shakespeare
vj
> else all day. Combined with ideas from the 'Nameless' thread. Whether I'll
> get it finished, I don't know; but I cannot avoid a proper go.
>
Yay. :-D Even unfinished, you must share, okay?
<grins widely> I knew you couldn't write casual words like 'when we
did Macbeth' and not have them come back to haunt you. (It was bad
enough just writing 'what happened last time' in Gereint & Enid. And
before you know it, Peri's accidentally getting Six murdered and...)
Vicky
AGOL
AGOL.
"Daibhid Ceanaideach" <daibhidc...@aol.com> wrote in message
news:Xns9A8DA3E56A388da...@130.133.1.4...