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Authors note: The opening blurb is slightly inaccurate. That is because this is meant to parody classic Who, which was released on video with wildly inaccurate summaries on the back of the casing.
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So, you've been a fan of Inspector Spacetime for a while. Hey, how could you not- It's just the most awesome sci-fi show ever, since it rebooted. There's an old show that you've been somewhat aware of, and based on the memories of your parents, and the praise it's received from the Big Name Fans, you've decided to give it a go.
You glance at the cover of the DvD before inserting it into the DvD player. It's got a large bed-on-springs with badly-made light bulb eyes. It looks rather stupid.
For this to live up to it's hype the story must inevitably be either hilariously, brain-numbingly bad, or seriously thought-provoking.
You select the story “The Lone Blorgon” from the selection screen. A rather jazzy tune with a slightly lazy feel plays as the title of the program, “Inspector Spacetime”, appears against a green background.
A red phone box was floating through space.
In fact, it was not only floating through space, but through time itself, even though it looked suspiciously like a pepper-mill bobbing on a string against a backdrop of “The Solar System: a classroom guide”(Well, at least it was clear on the fact, unlike a certain ripoff that never actually showed the damn thing fly).
Now, it's a well-known fact that this particular ship, the B.O.O.T.H, could go anywhere, anyplace, in absolutely no time at all as long as there was some space for it. This would most likely have made it a prime target for hijackers and vehicle-thieves, if it weren't for the fact that it was actually smaller on the inside than on the outside, meaning that it was extremely impracticable for travel. Inhabiting it at the current moment was Aiden, a Scot from the year 3'400, and The Inspector, who owned the B.O.O.T.H. He was a police-man of some sort with sharp sideburns, a long coat, and a penchant for vintage wine. People generally tended to refer to him as “Inspector”, as it sounded slightly more distinct than the classification number his race generally used to distinguish individuals.
The Inspector was currently on the phone with someone whom he was adressing in a very solemn and serious tone of voice. Aiden was jammed up next to him, eager to get out of this infernal cramped area.
“...I formally bid you farewell, as I have no intention of willingly calling you again.”
The Inspector hung up the phone. Aiden was just about to speak when The Inspector beat him to it with a smile that was slightly uncanny, and fell somewhere between “Warning, psycho”, and “Hello, my name is Ford Prefect”: “Aiden, we've got a case to attend to.”
“It's aboot time!”
(Over time, the Scottish highlander accent with it's rolling Rrrs had come to be phased out due to Canadian occupation sometime during the 3400's. It may also have to do with the fact that the director couldn't find an actual Scotsman when there was a Canadian who'd work for less, in an ironic twist on common stereotypes.)
The B.O.O.T.H. landed with an incredible amount of racket, and they went out. The ground was terribly muddy, and little firecracker-like things went off in the air. The rest of the landscape was covered in a thick fog.
“What do we do now, Inspector?”
“Simple logic, my boy: We investigate!” The Inspector nodded matter-of-factly.
“OK. What direction do we investigate in?”
The Inspector looked rather smug for a millisecond, until he pointed dramatically at his left:
“That way!”
They ran in that direction for a little while, until they were rudely interrupted in a most untimely manner by a group of men clad in black who inadvertently rushed out of the bushes and struck out their fists in a rather aggressive manner. Aiden jumped forth and reached for his energy sword. In a swift movement, the leader turned to face the The Inspector, making a nice cliffhanger for the end of the episode.
Here's where the viewers would usually have to wait an entire week for the next episode, but as this was originally on the telly over forty years ago, all you have to do is hit the “forward” button on the remote, thus sparing yourself from a very unimaginative credits sequence.
There is no “Last time, on Inspector Spacetime”, since people were expected to have watched last weeks episode, or heard about it from their relations as this was the sixties and there was not many television channels to choose from. The story picks up almost exactly from where it left off, IE The ninjas. Sorry, black-clad warrior people. Whatever, they totally look like ninjas.
The Inspector stood unimpressed. “I'm The Inspector, and this is Aiden. Please take us to the nearest authority in your settlement/village/cave/area.” The leader looked surprised and befuddled. “Unless you're planning to use a hostile tactic on us, in which case I may be forced to employ security measures.” He nodded once at Aiden, who smiled back and activated his energy sword.
Upon noticing Aiden's flaming mass of sword, the men behind the leader winced. The leader flinched.
“...That means, take us to your leader, or else.” Aiden said, staring into the eyes of the leader, who gulped. He swung his sword a little hap-hazardly, just to show off, eliciting a whine from the miscellaneous ninj- black-clad people. One of them pointed at some place in the distance, earning a nod from The Inspector.
“Oh, and the fact nearly escaped my current mind frame, but has anything odd happened recently?
“N-no, sir..” The leader scratched his head.
“Ah, alright. Thank you for your time.” The Inspector turned his back and went back to Aiden, who had already started walking in the designated direction.
“Inspector?”
“Yes, Aiden.”
“Humans probably don't answer very good if they're given that question after they see we've got weaponry, eh. 'Specially if it's used to threaten them.”
“Oh.” The Inspector looked thoughtful for a moment. “I'm glad to hear your input, Aiden. I shall keep your advice in mind for future purposes.” He nodded once.
After walking some distance(Exactly how long was not shown on television, as that would take up too much time and perhaps deter the viewers), the two eventually came across a village. Said village looked suspiciously like a couple of household-utensils arranged in a creative way, though this fact went unnoticed by our heroes as they were not staring at it from above.
“Well, Aiden, we have arrived at our destination.”
“We're meant to go here?”
“Yes, Aiden. It's a Betamorph-class civilization, to give you a rough overview of what sort of technology they posses.”
“So that's why they didn't recognize my laser sword, eh?”
“Exactly. They have yet to accomplish that technological feat.”
“Oh. Well, Do they have gas stations, then?” He glanced at his sword. “Betsy needs recharging'.” This being a Sci-Fi series from the sixties, and the screenwriter being infamous for making things up on the spot, it had already been established during the first season that man would find oil on the moon, amongst other planets, thus making Aiden's claim completely valid back in the day.
The Inspector shook his head. “While they do posses primitive forms of fuel-based engines, they are not very common.”
“Oh, OK.” He looked down solemnly at Betsy, and they entered the town.
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As they walked through the town. Aiden noticed that there didn't seem to be anyone outside, or inside either from what he could see. Sparsely-populated towns were commonplace in space, but this one stood out, since there was literally not another living soul in sight, or a dead one for that matter.
They'd just reached the square when The Inspector halted suddenly. He stood still for a moment, staring out into the distance, until he sharply turned to a puzzled Aiden.
“..Did you hear that?”
Aiden wondered of this was the appropriate time to joke about “Spidey-senses”, but decided not to offend the ancient god of MARVEL by daring to misuse his words. Instead, he shook his head hurriedly. The Inspector nodded, and they walked on towards a fountain in the middle of the town square. It didn't look particularly old or run-down, and the water was still running. Say, he was rather thirsty...
“Don't drink that.” The Inspector stopped him just before he had a taste of what seemed to be sweet, sweet water.
“Please refrain for a small period of time.” He dragged out a small, red thing from his pocket, pointed it at the water, and scanned it.
“It appears to be fairly safe, as long as we take measures to-” He turned around to notice that Aiden had dunked his head into the fountain. The Inspectors hand flew directly to his face.
“Aiden! You imbecilic, Precambrian creature-” He was interrupted yet again by the fact that Aiden's arms were flailing around helplessly, hinting that his actions may not have been exactly voluntary this time around.
“Aiden!” He grabbed Aiden's arm and attempted to pull.
And we have yet another cliffhanger. But, as has been stated earlier, you are living in the 21th century and thus have access to a remote control.
The Inspector sighed and pulled him up. When Aiden turned to look at The Inspector, the reason for his temporary retardation became slightly clearer: There was a large, slimy mass planted on his face. It looked suspiciously like plasticine that someone had dunked in paint and spaghetti. However, because this was the sixties, and as it was much better done than most of the special effects on Space-time, people were willing to overlook it.
The Inspector stopped shaking Aiden. He looked coolly at the, uh, alien life-form/item/metroid/power-up that was covering his associates face and reached for the small, red device that would later be known as the “optic pocketknife”. He waved it across Aiden's face one or two times, and a small red blip confirmed his suspensions. He'd naturally had them for a while, but being a infinity knight, he also found it imbecilic to act without definite proof.
The Inspector straightened himself. He backed a couple of paces, then sprang forward with more might than could usually be expected from the holy calmness he extruded.
He extended his foot upward.
With a loud and mighty “THWA-SHLUPP”, the slimy alien lifeform was swiftly removed from Aiden's face via The Inspectors mighty kick.
Aiden stood dumbstruck for a couple of moments before breaking out into a large grin.
“Wow, Inspector! That was nano-surreal!”
The Inspector nodded and smiled for a split second before returning to his usual calm demeanor. “But, Inspector, what was that thing?” Aiden continued.
“That..” The Inspector answered, pausing for effect in a slightly hamfisted fashion, for the following statement was to be rather grave indeed: “...Was an octo-blorgon!”
Aiden gasped. “Inspector! You don't say!”
“Yes, Aiden. An octo-blorgon, the most dangerous kind. They travel through bodies of water, and are generally sent as scouts in order to infiltrate and by extension poison the water supply of whatever civilization they may encounter.” Aiden cringed at the idea.
“Fortunately, they are rather few in number.” The Inspector continued, “Unfortunately, there is a good chance that one of them has laid eggs in your ear.”
Aiden's face went from surprise to mild alarm to complete horror in circa three nanoseconds.
The Inspector smirked at him uncharacteristically, making him feel rather uncomfortable. “Don't worry or get depressed over that statement, Aiden. I was attempting a 'joke'.”
Aiden breathed a sigh of relief. “Inspector, that was not..” He saw The Inspector flinch slightly, still eager to hear feedback on his recent attempt at imitating emotional lifeforms. “..Ok, that was a little funny” He forced a chuckle before adding “But it was mostly scary.”
“Oh.” The Inspector looked back solemnly.
“Don't get me wrong, here- it could have funny, just not when we're in situations like this.”
“Alright. I understand, and shall retain this information. Thank you for your input, Aiden.” He nodded. They both looked out at the city for a few moments in a very uncomfortable silence, before The Inspector started to talk again.
“In order to return to the previous topic, I do believe that we may have uncovered something through our investigations here.”
“What do you mean, Inspector?”
“Well, that blorgon was most likely sent out as a scout, although it does have the potential to fatally poison the water supply if left alone over a certain period of time. But the village was already empty, meaning that whoever inhabited it had either been killed, or fled. In fact, our previous encounter may have been with former habitants who wanted to get rid of us in the least straining way possible at that precise time. This planet is not known for it's courtesy towards foreigners.”
“I see, Inspector. So what's happened to the villagers? If they're all dead, there shouldn't have been anybody alive to escape the village, and there ought to be a lot of dead bodies around here. We don't even know if they were from the village, either.”
“Precisely.” The Inspector nodded approvingly. “In other words, there's a distinct possibility that the water supply was poisoned through the octo-blorgon's secretions. However-” The Inspectors face suddenly turned very red for a split second, as if he had just remembered something very important.
“What about-” Aiden started, but was interrupted by a small “bip”. The Inspector had pointed the optic pocketknife at him.
“You will suffer no long-term effects, provided that you have the decency and intellect to not ingest more.” The Inspector snapped, before returning to the previous line of discussion with a considerably calmer tone.
“That would mean that the water was poisoned around mid-noon, and presuming that the populace of the area ingested it during lunch, dinner, and that short trip to the bathroom that everyone makes once or twice a night, the time of death for roughly the entire town would be at around three o'clock in the morning.”
“Meaning everyone would be in their homes!”
“Yes, Aiden. Yes, and no. Doesn't that strike you as slightly odd?”
“I'm not really following you there...”
The Inspector let out an exasperated sigh. “I'm speaking of the individuals that may be on business out-of-doors during the nighttime.”
Aiden looked at him with a very puzzled expression, as if he had overlooked something very important.
“Why would anyone want to go outside after the stately curfew? I mean, it's there for for a reason.”
The Inspector shook his head. “Aiden, you can't possibly tell me that we've been through half the galaxy together, and you've never noticed that all civilizations do not, in fact, have a curfew?”
“Last planet we were on had circuit chaps during the early morning hours, eh? And the planet before that had a mysterious blorgon who went around asking people for spare change! At home, we have the giant rabbits between nine and ten PM” He nodded thoughtfully, while The Inspector was silent for a moment. “I've always wondered what they have on yours..”
The Inspector was completely silent, before he slowly answered in a very soft voice:
“Guards.”
“Oh.” Aiden's time was one of dictatorships, meaning that he was rather familiar with the concept of oppression-by-state. Guards walking the streets generally did not mean happy times, and thus he felt that it may not be very considerate of him to ask the inspector more.
The inspector sighed heavily, before returning to the previous line of conversation.
“Well, then, Aiden, I'll explain my thoughts and theory over what action we may take. If you feel that you, on account of being familiar with the internal workings of a so-called 'heart', may have a realization about anything that I may have overlooked, feel free to share your opinions.”
“OK, shoot.”
“I suggest that this blorgon is rather recent and was, in fact, sent as a scout.”
“Meaning there are more on the way?”
“The possibility certainly exists. However, considering the fact that this village seems deserted, I'd think it safer to say that they have already been here within the first three hours, considering the fact that the people we previously encountered seemed to be well on their way. In fact, they might even still...”
“ERADICATE!”
The Inspector and Aiden both turned around in order to find that The Inspectors speculation may just have been spot on.
….And click. Another cliffhanger. Actually, once you get into it, this is kinda fun. It's certainly not very good, but at least you are able to derive some sort of entertainment from this old program.
“ERADICATE! ERADICATE!”
“Duck!"
The Inspector held out his coat, in an attempt to try and shield them from the blorgon rays.
Well, that was stupid and impulsive. Cloth does not help against blorgon rays.
The Inspector had acted rashly on an impulse. This did not generally happen, and he was not willing to admit that it had. It didn't really matter, though, as the blorgon seemed to be out of plasma. It was shouting the obligatory “ERADICATE!”, and it was heading in their direction.
It reached The Inspectors feet, and then stopped.
“ERADICATE! ERADICATE!”
Aiden, who's line of reasoning went “If it's a blorgon, we're probably fucked anyway”, walked up to it.
“ERADICATE! ERADICATE!”
He tentatively reached his hand out. The blorgon didn't flinch.
“ERADICATE! ERADICATE!”
BZZZORP.
“Ouch!”
Aiden sharply drew his hand off of the electrified exterior. He was left with a stinging feeling in his hand and the urge to use violence against a living creature.
“ERADICATE! ERADICATE!”
He glanced at his sword, before remembering that it was out of juice.
“ERADICATE!”
His gaze fell to his shoes.
They were made out of old tires. Tires were made out of rubber. His mother used to wear rubber gloves when driving the robotic T-rex. Therefore, rubber probably did not conduct electricity. He was wearing rubber shoes that were made out of rubber.
“ERADICATE! ERADICATE!”
He started kicking the blorgon.
“ERADICATE!” Clank. “ERADICATE!” Clank.
The Inspector raised his eyebrow.
“ERADICATE!” “ERADI...” “Fizz, whirr, bloop-bloop-CATE!”.
Wait a minute, isn't that the R2-D2 sound effect!? And you thought That Ripoff was trouble enough...
He scanned the blorgon with the optic pocket knife, and then picked up his ocarina.
For about three minutes onscreen, in what seemed to be the directors attempt to pad out the episode to the required length, the following scene played out:
The Inspector was playing an old jazz tune on the ocarina.
Aiden was kicking the blorgon.
The blorgon was making noise. The noise was gradually becoming less and less “ERADICATE” and more more phased out into sounds comparable with a broken telephone.
In the most brain-baffling anticlimax of the year, the blorgon whizzed a little, blew a fuse, and then stopped.
That was it.
“Congratulations, Aiden.” The inspector looked up briefly. “I see you've ended the life of a blorgon.” He looked at the pocketknife again, this time at a small LCD-display. “And, that means we've filled our quota for this location!” He nodded, visibly pleased.
“...You mean that's it, eh?”
Aiden's confusion mirrored that of the audience, who had been waiting for weeks to see the conclusion to the exciting arc of Inspector Spacetime.
“Well, not really. First I'll have to dismantle this and confirm my suspicions regarding this blorgon.” He used the pocketknife to open a small hatch located in the side of the blorgon, and after a little fiddling, extracted a couple of punch-cards.
“Ah, exactly as I presumed.” He nodded again.
“Inspector, I'm afraid I don't follow you.” Aiden once again managed to capture and vocalize the mind of the audience, who at this point were sorely disappointed.
“I shall explain it while we return.”
The Inspector turned straight round, leaving the dead blorgon where it stood.
“Inspector, I don't understand. Why didn't you stop me like you always do when I got mad and started taking it out on the blorgon? You're my superior, after all.”
“Well, Aiden, I thought something extraordinary may be taking place when I was informed that the casualty maximum was two blorgons. Generally, the blorgons are under strict death penalty due to serious crimes against the balance of the universe.”
“You still haven't answered my question, Inspector.”
“Well, if you must keep inquiring, I shall explain my reasoning: When I scanned the blorgon, I noticed that it did not pose any threat whatsoever, due to the fact that it's communication radio was not sending out any signals. Blorgons never turn their radio equipment off, as they depend on strength in numbers. This led me to conclude that the blorgon was helpless, and thus safe for you to kick.”
“Why'd you let me kick it, then?”
“I had my suspicions over it's purpose, but there was no way to prove it without a couple of important key cards hidden inside the blorgon's casing, which you so graciously broke.”
“...The one I killed, because it was hostile."
“Because The Blorgon did not have a communication radio. I had my suspicions, but decided to wait until you had ruined it, as it was impossible to confirm them while the protective casing was still there. I would also think it deeply unpleasant if the rotten little bugger would decide to jump and plant it's toxic body on my facial muscles. In short: I needed the blorgon dead and unable to activate any sort of self-defense mechanism, and you killed it.”
“Oh, OK. I think I understand, although I really don't. Never mind.”
“Don't strain your mind, Aiden. You'll understand within time, as long as you head's got space for it.”
They walked on for a while, saying very little. The fog had cleared by now, and the sky was dark enough to show stars.
After a while, they passed a campfire. Aiden recognized some of the previous men they'd encountered, and they did wave to them, even if they didn't sit down. Aiden's stark moral code as a warrior prevented it, and the inspector had little need for nutrition. Eventually, they sat down to rest by a tree, aware of the fact that the B.O.O.T.H. was but a very short distance away.
“Inspector, there's one thing that's been bugging me.” Aiden said as he leaned against the magenta tree trunk. The bark was smooth, as if it were made out of plastic like the oak trees back home.
“Explain your dilemma, Aiden.” The inspector was busy fiddling with the optic pocketknife, and spoke without meeting Aiden's eyes.
“How could one single blorgon with a non-functioning laser beam scare away an entire village?”
“It's a blorgon, Aiden. The best known defense is to run as soon as you see it.”
“...Huh.” Aiden looked back up at the stars.
“Inspector?”
“Any further inquires, Aiden?”
“What about the rest of the blorgons?”
“As far as I've realized, Aiden, there was only that single blorgon inhabiting the area. That's what the data stored inside it confirmed: It was a defect that was relocated out here in order to perish. Possibly because it showed un-blorgon-like traits.”
“But why send it out here? Why not execute it or use it on a suicide mission?”
“According to it's data, they'd already tried that, and it had survived every single one. That's very un-blorgon-like.”
“Why? Don't they honour a warriour?”
The inspector glanced aside at Aiden, and shook his head.
“The blorgons are instructed to be terminated during a self-destruct mission. This one was determinated to survive them in order to fight another day, and was thus perceived as a defect individual. It's punishment was to be located onto a distant planet with meager resources, with most of it's vital equipment disabled. The fact that it managed to clone itself into an octo-blorgon is impressive.”
“So it kept trying to keep fighting, even though it was deemed unfit for duty?”
“That is correct.”
“...That is admirable, indeed.” Aiden smiled. “But at the same time, it's rather sad..”
The inspector was about to offer a alternative statement based on facts, numbers, and logic, when he saw the look on Aidens face and decided to formulate an alternative opinion.
“Yes, Aiden. In a way, I suppose it is.”
The opening tune plays again, and you suppose that this is the end of the episode. It's certainly kinda cheap, and rather campy. It was still pretty fun.
You smile, turn off the television, and log onto the Inspector Spacetime forums to share your opinions on it, only to find that it's been hailed as one of the worst classic Spacetime stories ever written.