Wednesday, December 20, 2006

Torchwood twaddle

Having been alerted to this excellent summation of the many areas in which the execrable Torchwood fails to be worthy of pissing on if it was on fire, I feel duty-bound to reproduce in full. (crib-sheet for colonials - “fanny” equates with “pussy”, not “ass”)

SCENE ONE: CARDIFF

GWEN
Hello Jack, I found this in a spaceship.
It has made my tits huge.


JACK
Watch out, it’s got monsters in it!

THEY FUCK UNTIL GWEN GLOWS

GWEN
WHAT IS HAPPENING??
MY TITS ARE HATCHING!!


JACK
I’m just that good, baby.
[he smokes a cigarette which also hatches]


SCENE TWO: STILL CARDIFF

OWEN
Can I have a fag please?

JACK
That’s what I say half the time - I’m totally bisexual.
How do you like them apples?


OWEN
It genuinely means nothing to me.

JACK
Right, whatever bitch, I’m off to stand
on top of St Paul’s Cathedral. Laters.


SCENE THREE: ABOVE CARDIFF

TOSH
I think I fancy Owen.

JACK
Girls and boys having sex is boring and for children.
Do something adult for blimey’s sake.


TOSH
Hnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggg
*trump*


JACK
Haha! You totally farted.
Welcome back to the team.
You didn’t follow through did you?
That would be super-gross forever IDST


OWEN
Quick!
There’s a monster made out of bras on the roof!


JACK
BUT THAT’S WHERE I LIKE TO STAND

SCENE FOUR: ALTERNATE CARDIFF

Two monsters come through a Welsh rift. They look a bit adult / sexy and like they can possess humans / take human form and have sex.

JACK
Hi there!
I’m nonchalant as fuck, me.


ALIENS
You are not like the others Captain Jack Harkness,
it’s like yow ded or sommat.


JACK BITES HIS BOTTOM LIP AND RUNS OFF BLUBBING INTO A DOOR.
TOSH WALKS IN AND DOESN’T REALISE THERE’S ALIENS


TOSH
Jack, my fanny itches.
I think it’s probably aliens.
Gasp! Aliens!


ALIENS
Don’t blame us like.
You probably got barnacles from doing it
with a space whale, you mucky boot.


TOSH
YOU CAN READ MINDS?

BARNACLE
Me too!
Let’s all think about cocks.


EVERYONE ROLLS AROUND ON THE FLOOR IN SOFT FOCUS

SCENE FIVE: SPACE CARDIFF

JACK
Thank GOD they were allergic to human semen!

OWEN
And I’ve got some left over for when they come back!

JACK
I’ll put that into stor… where did all the spunk go?
There was seven gallons of spunk right here.


GWEN BURPS.
JACK PUTS HIS HANDS ON HIS HIPS AND PUFFS HIS CHEEKS OUT.
TOSH LAUGHS AND GWEN BURPS AGAIN.


THE END, OR IS IT? ETC

Russell T Davies CAN I HAVE TEN THOUSAND FUCKING POUNDS PLEASE or what?

This just about sums up the level of thought behind the show - need I say more?

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5 Comments:

At 9:47 pm, Blogger Sal said...

You just confirmed that I'm right not to get caught up with TV hype - thanks, you saved me a lot of time. Happy Christmas!

 
At 5:22 am, Blogger wcdixon said...

Happy Holidays Mr. Walker.

 
At 11:56 pm, Blogger Riddley Walker said...

And JOY TO THE WORLD to one and all!

Have a wonderful break, Will, Sal and all nibblers of the divine confection that is News Sluice.

;-)

 
At 7:07 am, Blogger Caroline said...

Thanks for saving me the bother of attempting to watch any of Torchwood.

Did you get my card? One never knows with Canada Post. Shockingly enough, and this is true, I got a card this week from the UK in three days and one from another part of Toronto that took six. WTF?

Have a great holiday! BTW, I am charging you with a particular task. Watched Grumpy Old Men and Women at Christmas and they kept mentioning a Christmas song that I gather is a UK staple but not one here ... Mistletoe and Wine? I need to hear this, please. I love the cheesy Christmas music and can't believe this very promising sounding ditty has escaped me thus far. You have your marching orders ;-)

BTW, a friend posted me a fantastic selection box that arrived yesterday so I am a happy girl. It isn't Christmas without a selection box.

 
At 10:39 am, Blogger Good Dog said...

Four comments for Torchwood Twaddle, that's the highest viewing for anything Torchwood, ever.

Caroline -

No, no, no, no, no. You don;t want to ruin your life by infecting it with Mistletoe and Wine. Trust us on this one. Have a happy Christmas. Without it.

 

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