Last weekend was the Holiday Puckin Fuppet Show here in Atlanta, and after taking almost two years off from performing at the PF show I got back up on stage. Two years ago we did “The Night Before Ragnarok” with a Rocket Raccoon and giant Groot puppet. This year I had two Doctor Who puppets from my friend Mike Horner and my friend Thom had a certain politician in the same style. The idea for the script came together in just a couple minutes over chat a few weeks ago, and 95% of the script I wrote in a rush over a lunch break a few days later. Unfortunately I failed to get a full video of the show, but I’m going to share the script, and a link to the last few seconds of the show that somebody did get on tape, and a picture of one of the puppets (the Tom Baker one, with our dog Sarah Jane). This was a different style of puppetry than I usually work with, and I think the first time I’ve added politics to a script, even if it’s mostly for the joke.
No time for Mourning
Smith is behind his TARDIS.
Narrator: What happens when the legendary timelord crosses paths with a newer version of himself. Will the Time Vortex survive? What will happen to us? Up next on BBC America, The Doctor Who 2016 Christmas special: No Time for mourning
“Vorp Vorp Vorp” (Tardis)
Second TARDIS appears. Tom Baker Doctor pops out.
Baker: (popping out of new TARDIS): Time for a bit of a relaxation. Holiday season 2016. You know this is my favorite year of time. The peak of humanity. They’ve stepped back into the wider universe and are looking towards space again. They’ve got fantastic new music from David Bowie and Prince, and even those colonials have finally elected a lady for their prime minister… err president. Indeed, this is a very good year.
Matt Smith Doctor comes out from around his TARDIS.
Smith: Work, damn you!
Baker: What on earth are YOU doing here? This is my vacation year; the one with the ears gets 1944, the one with the spikey hair gets ’67, and you’re supposed to have 1888 and be in FRANCE. At worst I should run into that grumpy one with the eyebrows and his stupid sonic sunglasses.
Smith: I know I know! The old girl took a left turn at Albuquerque and dumped me here just as the new year struck.
Baker: You’ve been here all year? Please tell me you haven’t been messing with my year.
Smith: You have no idea. Every time I try and leave or correct something, somebody else dies!
Baker: Oh how bad could you, I, whatever, have done?
Smith: Bowie’s gone
Baker: WHAT? How did you manage to kill the Goblin King?
Smith: I don’t know!
Baker: What else did you do?
Smith: Prince. Leonard Cohen, Glenn Frey, Emerson, Lake, & Merle Haggard…
Baker: Goddammit, man! Did you just let a Dalek loose at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?
Smith: Oh, it wasn’t just musicians… Anton Yelchin, Patty Duke, Gary Shandling, Ron Glass, Muhamed Ali, Harper Lee, Florence Henderson, Robert Vaughn, Dan Hagerty, Alan Rickman, Gene Wilder.
Baker: MOTHER FUCKER, YOU KILLED SNAPE, WILLY WONKA, AND GRIZZLY FUCKING ADAMS?!?! HE WRESTLED BEARS FOR CHRISTSAKES!
Smith: I’m SORRY! Oh, and Abe Vigoda
Baker: Really? Are you sure?
Smith: I think so?
Baker: Did you do ANYTHING right?
Smith: Well, the Cubs won the World Series
Baker: A) I’m not sure if that counts as right or not, B) we’re British, you twat, we don’t give a shite about baseball!
Smith: I’m just trying to find a silver lining here!
Baker: OK, OK, (Music starts) you have royally fucked up my favorite year, young man. I may have to change to 2017 to just to get some peace and quiet. At least I’ll get to watch Hillary and Trudeau pal around North American Politics then.
Smith: (Trump popping up behind Baker) About that….
Baker: Oh Bloody Hell!
And now you can hear my awful excuse for a Tom Baker voice (all my practiced one went out the window once I realized how much I was going to have to project in the space)