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In present day Londonium, the Doctor has regained his memories, but the evil genius that's out to get him has just become Prime Minister! Can the good Doctor save the Earth from becoming the barren wasteland in which his future self has died? We shall see! Yes we shall see.

Deep inside the bowels of the Charlotte Church, the Brigadier and Dorothea McShane (did bribe away my cook) follow Doctor Who as he explores a musty, festering old crypt.

"This can't have been hoovered for centuries." murmurs the Brig.
"Ya." says Dr Who.



"Ta da! Goody goody." says Who as they enter the cavern.
"That machinery hasn't been touched for decades." says Dorry.
"I know just how it feels." mutters the bitter Brig.
"It's a blinking time machine that." deduces the scarf-less wonder.



"It's got Hawkspur's seal on it!" gasps McShane as she studies the shiny wonder. But Doctor Who is ruminating on the tangled web of his bleeding time stream.
"My time line has been twisted like a pair of old knicks in the wash." says he. "If we don't act soon, entropy will set in and all of my incarnations will be erased! We're trapped in an alternative reality... a Dark Dimension!"



Suddenly a black clad vixen slinks into the room. This is Bernice "Truly Scrumptious" Summerfield, a femme fetale from the far flung future. But, before she can say a word, Dorry Mac jumps into action.
"Stitch this you sexy bitch!" she cries, whacking the witch with a weighty tome.



"These balls look mightily familiar!" gasps Who, examining the shining Volotrons strapped to the befallen beauty. "Well tickle my ten toes. If it hasn't got 'Made By Who' stamped on the bottom!"
"You made these?" the dense old Brig queries.
"Well I haven't yet... but I almost certainly will do!" explains the benevolent alien. "This wench is from a space year in the far flung future."