No. 10: Tooth and Claw
Each week, Miles Hamer will be getting shit-faced in the name of Doctor Who. Why not join in his fun?
The task: Watch randomly-chosen adventures from the show's history whilst observing the rules set out below.
Take a gulp when:
The TARDIS takes off/lands
Doctor and/or crew's identity queried
Psychic paper used
Sonic Screwdriver used
Historical figure introduced
Catchphrase (eg. Exterminate)
Self-sacrifice saves the day
Title of the adventure is mentioned
The Doctor uses a pithy putdown
Oops! Continuity, prop or dialogue malfunction
Soliloquy of the villainy
Mention of Gallifrey and/or Doctor's family (except Susan)
Finish your drink when:
The baddies are defeated
A companion is introduced
A companion leaves/dies
The Doctor regenerates
It's been a rare and joyously sunny day that this otherwise miserable Summer has shat out, and the gloriously orange glow of the sun is still burning deeply into the evening skyline.
Right, close the fucking curtains 'cos we're off to Scotland.
Blimey, monks kicking the crap out of house staff. Sipping straight away. (I'm on the wine tonight, because…well, actually, I've no idea. I just am.)
Ooh, Crouching Timelord, Hidden Doctor! I'm not sure what I mean by that but this slo-mo ass kick is slurptastic.
Should I be slurping wine? Not sure, I'm not cultured enough for this.
MacLeish takes a smack to his Scottish chops. More wine Miles?
Yay - a woman screaming! Hmm, that didn't make me sound that good, did it? Shitcakes, I'm half a glass down already.
Ian Dury? I guess they didn't dare play Spasticus Autisticus, right?
TARDIS lands. Sip.
Doctor grimacing at the mention of Margaret Thatcher. That gets a big gulp of the grape from me.
"Doctor Jamie McCrimmon from the township of Balamory". God, I miss RTD.
Ooh, psychic paper. Forgot about that.
Drink till your sick – it's bloody Queen Vic!
Ooh, Torchwood. I'll drink to that. Well, given the tone of Torchwood's first season, I should probably tug one out instead, but that would be both vulgar and needless. Mainly 'cos I had one earlier.
Doctor says the telescope is "beautiful". That's a catchphrase of this incarnation. Drink!
Billie's incarcerated. Drinking to women being chained up – in no way is that questionable. Actually getting a little tipsy here, somehow.
Right, now look closely 'cos this is great. The attention to detail here is superb. The smug Captain, who's not used to dining with royalty, has his elbows on the table - a brazen display of over-confidence. The Queen, quite rightly, has her hands clasped formally, as a Queen might. Sir Robert's hands are tensely gripping the edge of the tablecloth and the Doctor is cautiously…well, you don't see the Doctor's hands, but this is a brilliant observation I'm making about a brilliant episode, alright?
Shit, I think I've been knocking back wine like it's beer. Or Ribena.
The black-eyed wolf-boy captive must have freaked the fuck out of the kids back when this was on, right?
"And that means you, you lazy shit!" says Rose. Woah there, curb those big ol' sewer lips girl!
Chanting. Shouting. Drinking. It's like being in Liverpool, this.
That's a GOOD THING, yeah? Seriously, don't want to offend the Scousers. Not whilst there's so many Cornish people to piss off instead.
Kidding, ok? It's not like Cornwall has the internet anyway…
The Monk bitch-slaps the Captain. That's worth a slug.
Shit, wolfboy escapes.
The Doctor now thinking that the wolf is, "beautiful". Erm, whatever you say fella. Either way, drink!
Hurrah, sonic screwdriver.
Blue-blooded bullets take down Kojak the Shifty Butler. That's two swigs.
Swigging wine? This can't be good.
More bullets. More mouthfuls.
Blimey, the wolf just showed us one hell of a snatch.
No, you fool, not that. This is a man wolf.
Somehow just got into a Tweet debate about the film Hannibal and had to pause this whilst I responded. It was their opinion that the film is good versus my fact that it is complete rubbish. Silly peoples, arguing with a drunk me. They shouldn't do that because, well, let's just un-pause and get back to this, ok?
Death by wolf. It's munching these poor sods down like I would Square Crisps.
We have no Square Crisps in, but my wife inexplicably offers me a Ferrero Rocher instead. Why the hell have we got Ferrero Rocher? Did I blink and skip several class brackets? I barely qualify to eat Pepperamis, for crying out loud.
I ate the Ferrero Rocher. Miraculously, the Posh Police didn't burst through the wall to make an arrest. I might try wiping my arse on a slice of smoked salmon next time, see where that gets me.
Shots! Monks! Cadfael!
Alright, not Cadfael.
Hurrah, running. A "vigorous jog," as the Doctor suggests. This really is terrific fun.
Blimey, a bullet straight to the wolf's face. Doesn't even bend a whisker, somehow. Vino is flowing.
Bullet! Sacrifice! Death! Shit me, I'm drowning in sweet, sweet wine.
I love the Doctor arming himself with books. I'd probably take him literally and grab an encyclopaedia to smack across the lycan's nose.
Vic gets out her shiny, fat one. She could out-bling Mr T, Jimmy Saville, and the entire cast of TOWIE with that glassy peach of a gem.
"Beautiful" again from the Doctor. Jesus Christ man, is everything beautiful? The Captain's moustache? Dodo's accent? The CGI Slitheen? Were they beautiful, Doctor? Well, were they?
The Doctor maniacally working out the plot is brilliant stuff. I can totally see why ladies and gays went all of a flutter over him.
Smooching! Sinking more wine.
Ooh, poor MacLeish is going to dangle his nuts into the jaws of a homicidal man-beast. Figuratively speaking.
He's deadibones. Raise my glass to that.
And down goes the wolf! And, it's more or less a self-sacrifice too. Down my glass. Bloody hell, there's only a wee trickle left in the bottle, barely half a glass.
The Queen is not amused! Which is a catchphrase, and worthy of another sip. Some fans were offended by the self-assured temerity of Rose and The Doctor here, perceiving it as arrogance. Being an egomaniac off my tits on white wine, I have no problem with it. Hell, some fans like The Web Planet, and I find that pretty darned offensive.
I don't really, I'm just being foolishly belligerent. Blame the bottle. Or, more accurately, me.
Banished. Right, thanks for saving me from certain death and all that, now clear off forever. Gratitude not a Royal trait I see. For further evidence of this, check the footage from this year's Jubilee. Mind you, in fairness to her Majness, I too would have had a face like a tortoise with its knob wrapped in razor wire if forced to watch Gary Barlow sing live.
Hmm, that Princess Anne gag – really?
TARDIS take off. That's the bottle gone.
Some wibble about Torchwood.
Ooh, School Reunion! Can we watch that please? Can we, huh? Get the whisky in, this is going to be an all-nighter*.
*Passes out just half an hour later
U.N.I.Ts consumed: 1 x bottle of wine at 13.5%.
A frothy, superbly-shot and energetic run-a-round with a classic feel and spooky atmosphere, Tooth & Claw is a perfect bite-sized snack of NuWho. Crammed full of reasons to down liquor, it accomplishes a drunken state far sooner than you might expect, especially if you're stupid enough to knock back gobfuls of wine like you would beer. I wouldn't recommend drinking a bottle of wine in under forty five minutes to anyone; whilst not a gargantuan intake of alcohol, it's simply not long enough to assess how it's left you feeling, by which time you'll already be consuming further units of demon drink. Then you really will be making a monstrous change into something more feral. Howling at the moon maybe, but almost certainly pissing in your knickers at the same time.
Disclaimer: We here at The Fan Can recommend only moderate consumption of alcohol and do not endorse binge drinking. Basically, Matthew Waterhouse will never convince, no matter how pissed you get.
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