“Never trust a man with dirty fingernails.”
Especially if he exacerbates London’s rodent problem, takes advantage of young scrubbers and test-drives prototype orgasmatrons.
Yes, this is The Talons of Weng-Chiang – a strange (Robert) Holmesian melodrama where people pop poison pills, ventriloquist dummies are hands-free and Birmingham has cornered the Chinese firearms market.
Leela takes some clothes, the Doctor takes a boat trip, Jago takes fright and Litefoot takes delivery of a surprise hamper, while Chang prestidigitates, Mr Sin recidivates and a mad old crone expectorates.
So do Jim and Martin think this is a superlative specimen of Seventies sci-fi or do they smell a rat?
Find out here.