That infamous moment when the first Ogron on the left accidentally reveals his MENSA potential to his masters but no-one bats a shiny eyelid.
Yes, this is Day of the Daleks in which our intrepid TARDIS twosome wine, dine and enjoy a ride, while Yates pulls rank, Benton pulls out of a minor skirmish and the Brig pulls his hair out as he defends world peace from humans and aliens alike while, no doubt, also taking in washing and doing a paper round.
Will the Jeep Pronto ever make it to market?
Why do people keep giving the Controller dirty looks? Is it his personal hygiene? Or is it because the only kid he ever charges for his sweets is poverty-stricken Charlie Bucket?
And why are the Daleks wasting resources on their minions’ make-up when their vital attack force wouldn’t fill a football team?
Jim and Martin ponder these questions and try to decide whether this is a red-letter day or 24 hours of ennui.
Listen here for their verdict.
“I am usually referred to as the Master.”
Or some very slight variation thereof.
Terror of the Autons is a story where a bloomin’ cockernee is masquerading as an Italian, a Time Lord as an astral Mr Benn, Autons as an army of Frank Sidebottoms, and the man himself as BT’s most sackable employee. Yet the Master can’t muster the energy to think up an even vaguely misdirecting pseudonym.
Plenty of imagination elsewhere though with unfriendly neighbourhood Bobbies, dolls that are a bit too clingy, armchairs that give you a hug, a phone you can really get tied up on and gift daffs you really shouldn’t look in the mouth.
Can the grumpy Doctor, scatty Jo, and a Maxi full of UNIT defeat the Master and the Nestene Unconvincingness?
And did Jim and Martin find all this plastic fantastic or as flat as Old Ma Farrel’s CSO kitchen?
Find out here.
“I shouldn’t be down here at all, really. Driver, I am. See?”
Yes, perhaps it would be better if you were absent, Evans. You certainly drive everyone up the wall.
But the Welsh wimp is not the only peril in the London Underground in 1968’s The Web of Fear. The slimmer-line Yeti now sling more web than Spidey, Professor Travers is now an old duffer cum Yeti whisperer, Harold Chorley is the obsequious and unacceptable face of the gutter press and somewhere a filthy traitor is at work…
Luckily, Colonel Lethbridge-Stewart is at hand, with his ever-shrinking batallion, while Ann Travers proves adept at rebuffing both amorous advances and unwelcome interviews and, somehow, finds time to smile at a rampaging Yeti.
Meanwhile, the Doctor is delighted by one of his balls, Jamie hides in a bin and Victoria drops an unidentified lanyarded object.
So is the return of this once-lost story a cause for celebration or should it have been left in the cobwebs? Listen here to find out what Jim and Martin think.
“Well thank you, Brigadier! But do you think that for once in your life you could manage to arrive before the nick of time?”
I’d leave it another half hour next time if I was you, Brig.
Yes, the third Doctor is being as pleasant as a fart in a spacesuit again, this time in The Mind of Evil – a six-part saga of surprised screws, conniving cons, a bucket of evil and 1971’s Cigar Smoker of the Year.
The Doctor crosses his eyes, the Master mesmerises with his eyes and Jo chucks hot tea into an inmate’s eyes – all part of a day’s work for UNIT, a small organisation tasked with running peace conferences, escorting missiles, protecting the Earth and, no doubt, taking in washing.
But is Chin Lee really the only ‘dolly’ Chinese girl in Europe? Why is the Master menaced by a coke float? And is any swarfega tagliatelle ever really complete without a sun-dried glass eye?
Listen in to hear the answers to none of these questions.
“You may be a doctor but I’m the Doctor – the definite article you might say.”
A statement of intent from the fresh and dewy Tom Baker in his first ever story, Robot.
As well as being introduced to the boggle-eyed Bohemian, we continue the adventures of Sarah Jane Smith, politely clap Benton’s latest promotion and discover what the Brig does with his car keys (and more) at the weekends.
If that wasn’t exciting enough, we also meet a crazy-haired professor, an unusually silent politician, a camp Neo-Nazi and Dennis Waterman’s Hitlerian ex-wife – not to mention the limp-wristed tin man of the title.
So does the first Bakerian era start with a big bang or a wimpy whimper? Listen in to find out what Jim and Martin make of it all.
Just Brigadier Winifred Bambera’s catchphrase or also a two-word review of the 1989 Sylvester McCoy story, Battlefield?
You decide as Jim and Martin sit huddled in No Man’s Land while iffy dialogue, dodgy acting and poor special effects zing past their tortured eyes and ears, only finding solace in their most puerile running gag yet.
They ponder weighty issues such as the merits of film over video, the mysteries of chemistry, McCoy’s anger mismanagement and the messier side of the Brig’s descent into senility.
They say all is fair in love and war but is the KP review fair? Listen here and decide…