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Doctor Who has died in the future yet lives in the past. A smelly old git is running for Prime Minister and a bomber jacketed young fishwife called Dorothy McShane is plagued by visions of hideous monsters and butch female soldiers... 

It is London, 2003 in the time scale you call Anno Domini. The Daleks of Death led by Professor Oliver "ten strokes" Hawkspur have captured two pert Eco Troopers from the future to be his handmaidens in Hull.



The evil Professor interrogates his prizes. "Who sent you? Was it Sutton?"
"Say what." says Jenny Saunders. "We know you killed our friend the Doctor you big hairy baboon."
"Nonsense!" retorts the slinky hipped Prof. "I'm a nice man. I'm going to bring peace to the world! And ban war. And bring back Sinitta as a force for darkness."

"Bunkum!" retorts Gordon. "You killed the Doctor. Or at least... something inside you did."
"There's been nothing inside me for many a day Sonny." grumbles the grouchy genius.



"Allow me to fill the viewers in on the plot!" declares the horned beast. "You know Doctor Who isn't dead! Not in this time stream anyway. That's why you came back to this dreary backwater to find him. Well it won't work I say!"
"Damn you old man!" curse the Eco Troopers from their hellish prison.

"We await command!" say the Daleks, for no apparent reason.



Just then, the main door slides open and a Yeti enters with the captured Alex "thrice nightly" Stewart as his prisoner!
"What is this? You flamin gallah! This whisker less yoof is not Dorothy McShane! Fear not though young urchin, through you I shall find Dotty Mac and through her the Doctor will be mine!"
"You revolting man!" screams Alex before he is taken away and locked up and with silver he is bound.

 

Later that night, a narrow-hipped Vixen spills the news of young Alex's abduction.
"Alex Ailsa Stewart, the 25 year old school teacher son of Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lucille Lethbridge Stewart, the retired United Nations Love God and esteemed member of Rolf's Cartoon Club, has vanished into the night. Gawd knows who's got him and frankly my dears I couldn't care less. In other news, the BBC has announced the return of the deeply unpopular stinking old science fiction series, Do..."

 

Meanwhile, Dorothy McShane awakens from her slumber in the lushly furnished wank cabin of an elderly gent. But what is all this strange paraphernalia and space flotsam that fills the room? It all seems strangely familiar from the dreams that have been haunting her...