Sometimes my creativity bursts forth in verse, or song, be afraid...


Inspired by an argument between two friends, over whether a limited edition model kit of Morbius was furry or not...

Morbius is furry,
Morbius is hairy,
Morbius is hirsute,
Morbius is scary.

Around Solon's castle, the wind it did gust,
And much like Peri, he had a nice bust.
But this was of Morbius, a nasty Time Lord,
Out of his mind, out of his gourd.

Executed on the planet of Karn.
In the open air, not in a barn.
A bit of a chancer, a bit of a git.
God this poem really is shit.

He expected a bod like the bionic man,
But it ended up looking like Chewbacca's nan,
He was very unhappy, a little bit sick,
Much like the writer, poor old Terrance Dicks.

Morbius is furry,
He wants the Doctor's head,
Morbius is furry,
You know he'll end up dead.

He was built up from lots of bits of the dead,
He was blessed with a goldfish bowl for a head.
Created by Solon, most barmy of surgeons.
He was tossed off (a cliff), by a shedload of virgins.

Morbius is furry,
He got a hand from Condo,
Morbius is furry,
Coz Stuart Fell sez so.


The Master smiled, the Master laughed,
He lit another spliff,
He had the Doctor where he wanted,
At the edge of a cliff.

With the Doctor in his sights,
The Master whipped it out,
He stroked it and the knob glowed red[1],
Then the batteries ran out,

The Doctor reeled back from the edge,
And kicked him in the shin,
And tried and tried and tried to pull,
The beard right off his chin.

The Master fell onto his back,
And gave a nasty cough,
The Doctor picked the Master up,
And then he tossed him off[2].

[1] - On the end of the Tissue compression Eliminator.

[2] - The cliff.



The scene - Gordon is about to have his modem cable cut by a certain person after he made untrue and cheeky comments about the last episode of 'Fish' starring Paul McGann. He attempts to distract her...

Paul McGann, a wonderful actor,
Paul McGann, sexier than a tractor,
Much tastier than roast leg of lamb,
He's more entertaining than a tin of Spam(tm)

Paul McGann, has a sexy stare,
Paul McGann, he has lovely hair.
In darkness his acting's a beacon of light,
Even in Alien3 when he's covered in shite.

Paul McGann, he's got several brothers,
Paul McGann, you don't care for the others,
The PMEB really like to see him,
Naked and playing a small violin...


A couple of weeks later, this time facing having his legs strip-waxed by the same lovely individual, after again
making cheeky comments about McGann, he comes up with a song...

(To the tune of the 1970s Amazing Spiderman cartoon theme)



Paul McGann, Paul McGann, does whatever a McGann can,
Ride a bike, confuse a cop, he's got two hearts, looks like a fop
Look out, here comes Paul McGann.

Paul McGann, Paul McGann, does whatever a McGann can,
Drinks some booze, eats some cake, goes on holiday by mistake,
Look out, here comes Paul McGann.

He's the eighth Doctor, he hails from Liverpool,
When he's in the bath, makes all the ladies drool.

Paul McGann, Paul McGann, does whatever a McGann can,
Is that a wig? People say, what colour's his coat, anyway?

Look out, he's doing a BF audio,
He's got three brothers, you know.

Here comes Paul McGaaaaaaaaann!!!!


With apologies to Dr. Seuss...

The Master was nasty, the Master was bad.
With his dark beard of evil, he's really quite mad.
He'd gotten quite bored with his open-faced rival.
Yes, this story takes place some time before Survival.
He kidnapped poor Santa, a cardinal sin.
He lured him in gently, with biscuits and gin.
His plans were generally chock full of flaws.
But this one was perfect, he'd trapped Santa Claus!

But the Master he really had not gotten insured.
'Gainst the entrance of a certain leader of Voord.
He'd previously been blown up, into bits really small.
He'd just been released, from Rolf's Monster Hospital.
But Yartek was groovy, Yartek was real cool,
He's also amphibious, which could come in useful.

He climbed up the drainpipe, despite feeling queasy.
With those flippers of his, it wasn't too easy.
He looked in the window, and all he could see.
Was the Master sat playing, with his TCE.
In an instant he made, an important decision.
He'd save poor old Santa, with complete precision.

He leapt through the window, smashing the glass.
He slipped and fell over, onto his arse.
He looked at the Master, he looked at the floor.
He looked at poor Santa, stapled to the door.
He quickly lashed out with his big size ten flipper.
He then fwapped the Master, with a smelly smoked kipper.

The Master took aim, with his black TCE.
But he missed our Voord hero, and instead hit the tree.
Yartek grabbed hold of that small Christmas tree.
And prompty inserted it, ooh, owww, arrgh, aieeee!
The Master he wibbled, he cried for his mum.
He ran up the stairs, with a tree up his bum.

Then Yartek gave chase, with his usual grace.
Tripped over his flippers and fell on his face.
They bundled right into, a familiar room.
With a six-sided console shaped like a mushroom.
A party in full swing, just barely begun.
With eight incarnations, all having some fun.

The first poked the Master with his long walking stick.
The second he chuckled and gave him a kick.
The third used aikido and gave him a chop.
The fourth used his scarf to tie him all up.
The fifth pulled his balls out, and threw them at him[1].
The sixth threw a mincepie, with vigour and vim.
The seventh he poked him with his big umbrella.
The eighth tripped him up, the cheeky young fella.

Seeing the Master had now been subdued.
Yartek ran down the stairs in a rather good mood.
He unstapled Santa, who gave a big grin.
And offered a swig, from his hipflask of gin.
The Doctors all rushed in, but nothing was amiss,
And they all cheered for Yartek, the Voord who saved Christmas.

A Mr. Yartek funtoons production...

Happy holidays everyone!!!

[1] his big red shiny balls[2]...

[2] The ones he plays cricket with...