Now that Ewen has posted his mighty fine parody of No More Lies my own attempts at capturing the worthlessness of this particularly bad and dull naval-gazing BF release are not very relevant at all. But still, looking back I wrote an awful lot of it, so I thought this work might as well get an airing..
Lucie has humiliated the Doctor for the eighth-straight time in an arm-wrestling competition, and, due to one of the more obscure tenants of Gallifreyan law, THE TARDIS IS NOW HERS! Lucie begins laughing manically and announces that, with the TARDIS only responding to her commands, she is now the Doctor, and the Doctor is but her companion! The Doctor points out that he doesn't actually have a name, so they could only be "The Doctor and The Doctor" or "The Doctor and ___ " if she followed through with that, which would make writing the rest of this synopsis a real bitch. Lucie reluctantly agrees that they'll keep their current nom-de-plumes for convenience sake, but makes it clear that the Doctor will now have no role in proceedings but to hand her marital aids and tell her how fantastic her arse looks.
Now with all of time and space at her command... Lucie has no idea where to go. She asks the Doctor for a suggestion, and he suggests the year 1997. Lucie laughs, and says she wants the exact OPPOSITE year - so they're going to 7991! The Doctor grins, saying that's exactly what he'd like, and Lucie fumes and decides to just land the fucking thing in the nebulous thousand-year gap known as "The UNIT period".
They emerge from the TARDIS into a space-station somehow formed entirely out of sub-grade Hungarian techno music, and Lucie exclaims, horrified, that they've entered the lair of Professor Zarquaard of Zylong-Zoorg! The Doctor is similarly horrified when he realises that their role reversal is so extreme that Lucie now has the entirety of his wealth of knowledge, and his mind is now filled with nothing but supposed remedies for crow's feet and urban legends about cheating the breathaliser. Realising how useful these could be the Doctor jots them down so that he won't forget them if he recovers his old mind, only to realise Lucie has gone running off like a cat on Ecstasy.
"Oh, great, now she's found my stash as well..."
Meanwhile DCI Duggan of the Bristol Motherfucking Police Force and Shaft Appreciation Society (which he is quick to point out refers to the blaxploitation TV series rather than the male sexual organs) parks his car in a glorious 720 degree handbrake turn at the latest crime scene. To his disgust, he finds the smouldering wreckage of a caravan and half a dozen dead junkies, whose corpses he kicks in rage. He tells his fellow coppers to 'shut it' before they've even started to open their mouths and screams his head off about the "NEW POISON IN MY CITY!!!" - specifically the new wave of Hungarian techno music. Abruptly he pulls out three magnums (Not a bad trick if you can do it) and says everybody else is off the case - these mofos are HIS! Soon after he says this he realises that he doesn't actually have any leads, but concedes that it doesn't matter that much considering his general 'investigation' style. He then gets back in his car and flattens an ice-cream stall as he thunders off at his cars minimum speed of 85mph.
"So... does that guy work here or something?" asks one of the several baffled policemen.
Lucie is now face to face with the devilish Professor Zarquaard himself, now resplendent in his trusty Z-suit he bought off the Zeta-Zroodqnorgs a zillion zeptlops ago. As Lucie kindly explains to the audience, if you've played Jedi Knight 2 it's basically exactly the same as the retarded robot suit that Galak wears at the end, except with sub-woofers in place of guns. She then demands that Zarquaard unconditionally surrender and tell her how hot her arse is looking right now in those jeans. Zarquaard is unimpressed with the demand, but does concede that, in all likelihood, he would.
At that moment, however, the Doctor shows up! Lucie calls out for the incompetent fool to stay back, the Doctor runs into the fray in a particularly witless and girlish moment of thoughtlessness, leaving Zarquaard the perfect oppurtunity to unleash his mean beats, which resonate at just the perfect frequency within his body to sprain his ankle. He then loses consciousness when Lucie smacks him as if she were Benny Hill and he a bald guy. By the time her ministrations are over, Zarquaard is trundling away at a fairly unimpressive speed, looking for his escape pod. Lucie slings the Doctor over her shoulder, and starts off after him - but due to her drug addled state is soon ensnared in Zarquaard's deadliest of traps - a 3D-eye poster!
Elsewhere in the station, reality is momentarily torn apart, and from the darkness outisde comes... a Trudmukka! One of the all-too-many alien races patrolling the Time Vortex, and he has to fight off a shitload of Reapers, Chronovores, Pterodactyl-things, and distant abuse yelled by the drunk and bitter Abbadon to get out of there in one piece. Once on the otherside he does his best to staple the tear in the continuum shut, but it soon becomes apparent that somebody is majorly messing around with time.
Elsewhere again in the station the mysteriously inept Leadbeater arrives, and announces that, in case you missed the last episode, THIS is the time she will capture Lucie! All that she has to do to capture her Northern nemesis, is run up 300 flights of stairs in the next five minutes. A couple of seconds thought suggests that maybe she didn't really land in the best spot in the station, but she's committed herself now, and sets off on her mission. She then trips and falls down 20 flights.
Duggan, meanwhile has arrived at a mansion where the swankiest members of Bristol High Society (ie, pimps) are gathered to celebrate the birthday of Anita Zarkesh, a sixty-something Hungarian migrant and wool exporter who triumphed against all the odds, and is now having a highly refined and thoroughly upper-class dinner party where everyone is being terribly nice and British to one another. This sickens Duggan, and in response he drinks all the booze, shoots out the chandelier, and urinates on every second setee in the house, before reversing his car through their gazebo and speeding off into the night, drag-racing his mate Gene Hunt as he does so.
After a moment's unusually clear thought, Duggan realises that he forgot to actually ask whether they knew anything about the spate of Hungarian-music related deaths, but shrugs this off by deciding that a curry house will probably be the logical place to begin his investigation. And then he crashes into a bus station.
Elsewhere in Bristol Zarquaard beams into his tiny bed-sit that he shares with a bespectacled Colchester school teacher and announces that through his advanced manipulation of inferior Eastern European disco beats he has caused a nexal null-point in time, centered around the one creature that is most vital to his own existence - HIMSELF! The Teacher sniffs, drinks some port, and comments that the secret of immortality is vulgar and that he would have used the power to preserve instead his own true love.
Zarquaard points out that this would mean that he would become an old, wrinkly bastard while his true love would remain at the age of fourteen forever, and might be drawn to actually meet and go out with other people over eternity. Especially considering that Zarquaard hasn't even met Dakota Fanning yet. The teacher rolls his eyes and tells Zarquaard that it is completely wrong in every way to believe Dakota is his true love - because he's gay! All the hormones informing him of his supposed heterosexuality are merely a 'vocal minority' a very common phsyiological phenomenon, that he believes affects 95% of males throughout the world, and one he is strongly trying to address. The two then fall into what seems to be a routine argument, over whether it is worse to be a genocidally maniacal kiddy-stalker or a demented Gay-Supremist male-model-stalker, fall out with one another, threaten to move out, before sheepishly admitting that literally no-one else in the entire Universe will put up with either one of them and sitting down to watch Corrie.
Meanwhile, the Trudmukka is tearing Zarquaard's techno station apart angrily, looking for the nexus of the time storm that is going to let all of his arsehole family into this Universe, where no doubt they'll go on about all the money he owes them. During this rampage he stumbles across Lucie and the Doctor, and demands they tell him where the thing he needs to destroy is. Lucie shrugs and says that it's pretty much always on Earth. Which is fairly interesting considering that Earth is supposedly the planet that the Time Lords have banned her from travelling to...
Trudmukka is gone by this stage, leaving Lucie to stare at the 3D-eye poster in mild irritation, storming off to find an escape pod of his own and then... well, he's just ad-libbing here, but he's essentially going to tear some shit up. He gets so psyched that on his way to the pods he shoulder charges some insane, bedraggled woman in a bus-conductor's outfit down a massive flight of stairs, and misses her anguished cry of "Not again!"
The Doctor is fed up with his new role as an undistinguished and disposable piece of totty to shadow Lucie, and has broken away from her in-depth analysis of computer-generated art for stoners into the stations control room. He's now really sick of that techno music, and so uses his technical expertise to safely shut down the systems...
Lucie swears her head off when she realises that the Doctor has pressed the self-destruct!!! She drags him by the ear back to the TARDIS at a very quick run, as the station spectacularly explodes around them, yelling abuse at the bumbling fool. The Doctor moans, realising that his loss of power is now utterly complete. As the TARDIS flies off, the hole of space-time that Zarquaard's station occupied opens even further, allowing the TIME-EATING PTERODACTYLS into the word! An interidmensional being can be heard yelling "For fuck's sake!" in the extreme distance.
Meanwhile, in the TARDIS Lucie darkly mutters that she hasn't come across any such destructive form of music since her encounter with Tom Petty. The Doctor corrects her, saying that that was actually him, that Tom Petty was sort of on their side, and it only happened two weeks ago so the whole statement is actually singularly unimpressive. It's like saying "I haven't eaten baked beans on toast since last week" and clearly shows that she's really still an amateur at this kind of thing. Unfortunately, when it comes to a "dead Northern bollocksing" the same cannot be said.
What happened to resolve this narrative confusion? I have no idea, I never finished it. And... no I don't think Sparacus really had any importance to the plot at all..