“What is this horrendous place?”
Well, Nyssa, it’s Terminus – a place to which Bor was presumably drawn by nominative determinism.
It’s a drab old hospital where the porters are metal, the doctors are Goths and the burglars are New Romantics.
The Doctor wins a fight, Nyssa loses her skirt and Tegan draws the short straw, what with Turlough staring at her posterior and the extras revealing her upper assets.
Did Olvir train at the Wayne Sleep Combat Academy?
Is the Doctor’s creepy CCTV standard TARDIS issue?
Do the Vanir have enough dog poop bags to last until their next Ocado delivery?
And did Jim and Martin find Terminus to be a real tonic or some used Hydromel?
Find out here…
“A delightfully unexpected afternoon.”
Well it won’t take up much of your afternoon and there’s very little that’s unexpected here.
For this is Black Orchid – a ripping yarn of bronchial brothers, lippy bookworms, smutty absentees and a child bride who’s passed around like a gold ball at a Telosian rugby match.
The Doctor plays the clown, Tegan cuts a rug, Nyssa finds her double and Adric eats double his body weight in finger food.
But who is the tweed-trousered killer who’s friends with an Amazonian Indian?
Could he possibly have any connection with Charles “not one of the Worcester Woosters” Cranleigh whose brother disappeared on an Amazonian expedition?
And who is the piratical prat with the badge for mathematical excellence?
Listen to find out…
“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 am the Doctor… whether you like it or not.”
Yes, this is Colin Baker’s debut debacle as the Doctor, The Twin Dilemma.
A tale of a Hurndall understudy in a dress, two bratty bowl-cut brain-boxes, pestilent parrot people and a hairy slug with an inter-species libido.
And, at its centre, we have our ‘hero’ who tries to bluster, cower, whine and strangle his way into our hearts, and his poor sidekick, who has probably never felt quite so sidelined – or quite so kicked.
Blood bubbles, slugs slime, sartorial atrocities are committed with impunity and a thieving magpie is fed to the starving masses (tastes like chicken, apparently).
Loathe it or hate it, it’s perennially at the bottom of the sort of polls its lead actor despises.
But do Jim and Martin think it lives down to its reputation?
Listen in to find out.
“You’re liable to wake up Old Nick going that deep!”
And imagine old Nick’s horror when he woke up after a BBC stag do and found that someone had given him a comedy eye-patch and a joke shop scar.
But it’s not just the Brig who’s had an unsympathetic makeover in Inferno‘s alt-right universe. Cuddly Sergeant Benton is now brutal bastard Benton and lovely Liz has adopted a nasty wig and an equally nasty attitude. Professor Stahlman, of course, is equally gittish wherever you find him, but Greg Sutton’s sexist tendencies have been crushed under the fascist jackboot – and he seems even less likely to achieve penetration with this particular Petra.
Throw in some technicians in wolf’s clothing (and Christmas cracker teeth), a soldier shooting himself off a gasometer and lashings of automatic door porn, and we have something of a great big melting pot.
But do Jim and Martin think Inferno burns brightly or does it feel like the end of the world?
Find out here.
“What are you concealing from me, boy?”
Not enough, some might say, for this is Castrovalva – where Master Waterhouse introduces the innocent and unsuspecting viewer to “Little Matthew”.
But that’s not the only harrowing element of the Fifth Doctor’s first outing. The Time Lord himself is made incompetent (and incontinent?) by his regeneration but still gets to go on a self-propelling wheelchair and pulls off decent impressions of his former selves – and Basil Fawlty (the War Hotelier).
Tegan gets hot and bothered, Nyssa gets moist and, of course, Adric has a semi on, before they all meet
Chardonnay Shardovan and his sheep-in-wolf’s-clothing chums.
There’s a fly in the ointment, of course, and this one has a risible, raisable platform, a double-decker perspex top hat and a penchant for looking at boys on the dark web.
But does the new Doctor bowl Jim and Martin over? Or is he out first ball?
Find out here.
“If anything happens, let me know.”
What do you get if you have two episodes to fill with no guest actors and no new sets?
Well in the weird world of Lime Grove 1964, you get The Edge of Destruction – a veritable cryptic crossword with clues from another, different cryptic crossword.
This is, of course, the one where Susan turns sinister scissor sister, Ian seems to have been at the TARDIS brown ale, the Doctor – even with a head wound – still wins Gallifrey’s Fastest Butler, and poor old Babs has to hold it all together, despite her pathological fear of Salvador Dali.
Even the Fornicator can’t help them as they try to discover what the heck is going on (and what the writer has been smoking) until, finally, the solution springs to mind.
So can Jim and Martin make sense of the sentient ship’s clues or will the story leave them on the edge of nervous destruction?
Find out here.