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"The witch is awake!" beams a grand old gent as he enters the room, haunted by his hounds of love. 
"Who are you? Where am I?" enquires Dot, as is her duty.
"I'm Brigadier Lethbridge Stewart and this is my house, number 4 Granavox Turbines. I found you on my door step with two pints of milk and a Petit Filous."

 

"I recognise most of this old tat from my dreams!" says Dotty as she admires the Brigadier's merchandise collection.
"Say what?" says the Grand old English Gent. "Perhaps my old friend Doctor Who is trying to communicate with us through your mind."
"I wish he'd use the ruddy phone instead, whoever he is." mutters the dishevelled harpy, Mac D.



"The Doctor was my advisor when I was in UNIT. Back in '81 when I was young and you were even younger we found the old stinker by the bottom of a telescope at this Phallus Project place. A few days later he vanished, and we haven't seen him since."
"What a load of old cobblers!" utters the disbelieving, eternally tortured pop ming witch.
"No, no! This all begins to makes sense!" lies Lethbridge. "I think the Doctor is in trouble and is using you to try and get some help. I say we go hunt him down like the stinking dog he is."

"Let's ride Bessie!" exclaims the Brig "It would make a nite nice trip for us!"
"Now you're talking!" says an excited Dorrie as she tastes the Gentleman's relish.



"This isn't what I had in mind!" cries D as the Brig fires up the minimum inertia doohickey and they cruise away in the Doctor's trusted old roadster with the souped up engine.
"Nevermind that hoppin goggle." murmurs the Gent as they travel now.

"You know, this is barmy," ruminates Dotty Mac as they cruise along. "Here I am discussing missing Doctors, Phallic Telescopes and Lords of Time with an old army tramp, as if it were pussy, fish and nips and Liverpool socks."

"Quiet you." says Briggy.



But their departure has not gone unnoticed. Bernice Summerfield and her remaining Eco-sisters track the departing pair by homing in on Dotty's body odour.