Saturday 23 November 2019

WE SHOOT OURSELVES IN THE BACK



(The Master calls a lift. It is empty.) 
MASTER: 
Right. Come on, then, hop in. 
Straight down. Tardis. 

MISSY: 
Come here. 

MASTER: 
I'm sorry? 

(She plants her parasol in the ground.) 

MISSY: 
Come here, I said. 

MASTER: 
Seriously? 
Are we really going to do this? 

(He embraces her.) 

MISSY: 
I loved being you. 
Every second of it. 
Oh, the way you burn like a sun. 
Like a whole screaming world on fire. 
I remember that feeling, and I always will. 
And I will always miss it. 

MASTER: 
Now that was really very nicely done. 

MISSY: 
Thank you. 

(He has blood on his fingers and she has a stiletto blade, I think.) 

MASTER: 
It's good to know I haven't lost my touch. 

MISSY: 
You deserve my best.

(Missy helps the Master to the lift.) 

MASTER: 
How long do I have? 

MISSY: 
Oh, I was precise. 
You'll be able to make it back to your Tardis, maybe even get a cuppa, although you might leak a little. 

MASTER: 
And then regenerate into you. 

MISSY: 
Welcome to the sisterhood. 

MASTER: Missy? Seriously, why? 

MISSY: 
Oh, because he's right. Because it's time to stand with him. It's where we've always been going, and it's happening now, today. It's time to stand with the Doctor. 

MASTER: No. Never. Missy! I will never stand with the Doctor! 

MISSY: Yes, my dear, you will. 
(So the Master zaps her in the back with his triple barrelled sonic whatever.) 

MASTER: 
Don't bother trying to regenerate. 
You got the full blast. 

(They both laugh.) 

MASTER: 
You see, Missy, this is where we've always been going. 
This is our perfect ending. 
We shoot ourselves in the back. 

(The lift doors close and he descends, still chuckling. Missy dies amongst the greenery.)

No comments:

Post a Comment