Don't Sweat it, We Good. We Got You.

When I was your age, 

I used to have to fight every day.

If it wasn't The Ku Klux Klan 

or The Police or The White boys 

from the next town, 

somebody was always 

beating on me for something.

And I ain't HAD no Daddy 

to Stand in Their Way.

This World ain't never had 

no respect for Richard Williams.

But they gonna respect y'all.

They gonna respect y'all.

There are Four scenes in which Richard Williams 

comes into conflict or encounters 

the local street gang in Compton, 

harassing him and His Daughters 

on The Tennis Courts —

The first time, they are verbally harassing 

his middle daughter, Tunde, The Valedictorian, 

who is sitting on the court, studying —

He confronts the one who did it, 

a boy named ‘Roc’,

gets his face punched 

and turns the other cheek;

Roc :

How you doing? 

I'm sorry, what's your name, mama?

You ain't gotta act like that, love.

We just trying to talk to you, that's all.

Richard Williams :

Tunde! Pick your things up, 

get your sisters, 

go ahead to the bus.

Roc :

You Tunde? 

That's your name?

Hey, the homie said 

he wanna talk to you.

Roc :

But, Tunde, you ain't gotta 

be acting like that, love.

Richard Williams :

She's studying.

Where she going?

Roc :

Don't drop your backpack, baby.

Keep talking all that shit.

Oh, Tunde!

Tunde, the homie's still right here.

Roc :

I be tellin' this love right here...

You gotta stop acting like a...

What is he doing?

N***a be acting like he scared or something like...

Richard Williams :

Young Man, now I asked you a couple times...

Young Man?

Richard Williams :

Now, that girl there is only 16 years old.

And she out here to WORK.

Just leave her alone.

Leave her alone.

I talk to whoever I want, homie.

Oh, he upset, nigga.

Richard Williams :

You leave these girls at Peace.

Hey, yo, come on, homie, man.

Leave this old-ass nigga alone.

Roc :

What, now you feel like you're better than us or something, homie?

Hey, homeboy, you know you hear me talking to you.

What's up, homie, you got something you wanna say?

Richard Williams :

I done said what I wanna say.

Just mind your business.

She not interested in you.

Yeah, now you my business, bitch.

Oh, damn! Come on, Roc!

See your daddy now, huh, Tunde?

Come on, man.

He's an old-ass nigga, man.

That's your homie, man.

What's going on with him?

Come on, man.

Hey, keep your old ass at home, homie.

Turn that music up.

Turn that music up.

Come over here trippin' and shit, man.

Why you beating up my homeboy, man?

Came over here with that stupid shit.

Punk-ass niggas, say what?

Venus Williams :

Daddy, are you okay?

Richard Williams :

When I was your age, I used to have to fight every day.

If it wasn't the Ku Klux Klan 

or The Police or the White boys 

from the next town, 

somebody was always beating on me for something.

And I ain't HAD no daddy to stand in their way.

This World ain't never had no respect for Richard Williams.

But they gonna respect y'all.

They gonna respect y'all.

The Second time, he goes off to the tennis courts on his own after dark and just hitting balls over the fence to de-stress — the gang corners him on the court, the same thug makes a lewd comment about the daughter, BY NAME, he snaps, swats him in the head with the racket, the thug knocks him down and he takes a beating from the whole gang —

The thug puts a gun to his temple and says 

“My Father taught me TWO Things — 

How to smoke a blunt, 

and How to smoke a bitch-assed n*gga : 

I’m good at both.

You ain’t worth it, Old Man.”

He gets his gun, which he has for work as a security guard, drives around until he FINDS them —

As he is striding across the road to go and kill this kid, he is caught in a drive-by by a rival gang, and dies on the street.

The Third Time, he is on the court, training Venus and Serena in the driving rain, because the ball won’t bounce when it’s wet, so they have to hit it before it hits the ground —

The Surviving members of the gang roll up in their car, roll down the window, and The Leader says :

“I see What Y'all are 

Doing out there.

Don't Sweat it, We Good.

We Got You.”

On The Fourth Occasion :

“Hey, hey, hey!

Slow down, haircut.

Hell you think you going?”

“Oh. Just gonna play some tennis.”

“Hey, yo, Richard, this Jimmy Connors-looking cracker with you?”

“Uh, yeah, yeah. White boy with us.”

“All right, it's spoke.”

“Yeah, he just White. 

“It's spoke. Amen.”

“Get up out of here. I ain't gonna

let you get shot, Rick.”

“Appreciate it.”

PANTOMIME

Frankie, tell Luca to go outside 

and do You Know What.

Do you know Who I Am, Mr. Worley?

I give up. Who are you?

I'm The Antichrist. You got me in a vendetta kind of mood.

You tell The Angels in Heaven you've seen Evil so singularly personified...as you did in 

The Face of The Man Who Killed You.

My name is Vincent Coccotti. I work as counsel for 

Mr. Blue Lou Boyle, 

The Man, Your Son, stole from.

 

I hear you were once A Cop, 

so I can assume you have 

heard of Us before.

Am I correct?

 

 

...I've heard of Blue Lou Boyle.

 

I'm glad.

Hopefully, that will clear up The 

"How Full of Shit am I?" Question 

you've been asking yourself.

 

We're gonna have a little Q and A.

And at The Risk of Sounding Redundant --

Please -- make your answers genuine.

 

You want a Chesterfield?

 

No.

 

 

I have a Son of My Own, 

about your boy's age.

I can imagine, how painful 

this must be for you.

But Clarence... and that 

bitch-whore girlfriend of his 

brought this all on themselves.

 

I implore you 

not to go down that road with them.

You could always take comfort in

The Fact You Never Had a Choice.

 

Look, I'd like to help you if I could, 

but I haven't seen Clarence.

 

 

You see that?

 

Ah, shit! Fuck!

 

 

Smarts, don't it?

To get slammed in The Nose.

Fucks you all up.

You get that pain

 shooting through your brain.

Your eyes fill up with water.

That ain't any kind of fun.

But what I have to offer you, 

that's as Good as it's gonna get.

And it won't ever get 

that Good again.

 

We talked to your neighbors.

They saw A Cadillac.

Purple Cadillac.

Clarence's Purple Cadillac, 

parked in front of Your Trailer yesterday.

Mr.Worley - 

You Seen Your Son?

 

 

I've seen him.

 

 

I can't be sure... of how much 

of what he told you, so... 

in the chance you're in The Dark 

about some of this, 

let me shed some Light.

 

That whore Your Boy hangs around with, 

her pimp is an associate of mine.

 

Among his pimping and other affairs --

he Works for Me, in a courier capacity.

 

Well, apparently, that dirty little whore found out we were gonna do some Business... 

 

'Cause Your Son, 

The Cowboy, 

and His Flame...

came into The Room 

guns blazing 

and didn't stop...

Until they were pretty sure 

everybody was dead.

 

What are you talking about?

 

I'm talking about A Massacre.

They snatched My Narcotics.

Hightailed it out of there.

Would have got away with it too, 

but Your Son, fuck-head that he is, 

left his driver's license 

in the dead guy's hand.

.....You know -- 

I don't believe you.

That's of minor importance.

What is of major fucking importance, 

is that I believe you --

Where did they go?

On their honeymoon.

(Low Growl)

I'm getting angry, 

asking the same question 

a second time.

Where did they go?

They didn't tell me.

You just wait a minute 

and listen to me --

I haven't seen Clarence in Three years.

He shows up yesterday...

with a young girl, 

saying that he got married.

He asked for, uh, some quick cash 

to go on a honeymoon.

He asked me if he could borrow $500.

I felt like helping him,

so I wrote him out a check.

We went to breakfast in The Morning --

And that's the last I saw of him,

So Help Me God.

They never thought to tell me

where they were going....

And I never thought to ask.

No!

Don Vincenzo.

You Know -- Sicilians are Great Liars.

The Best in The World.

I'm Sicilian. My Father, 

was The World Heavyweight 

Champion of Sicilian liars.

From growing up with him,

I learned The Pantomime.

There are 17 different things a guy can

do when he lies to give himself away.

A guy's got 17 pantomimes. 

A Woman's got 20.

A guy's got 17. 

But if you know them 

like you know your own face, 

they beat lie detectors all to hell.

Now, what we got here is a

little Game of Show-and-Tell.

You don't wanna show me nothing,

but you're telling me everything.

I know You Know 

where they are, so... 

Tell me... before I do some damage 

you won't walk away from.

Could I have one of those 

Chesterfields now?

Sure.

You got a... match? No. Wait. No, no.

Don't bother. I got one.

You're Sicilian, huh?

Yeah. Sicilian.

You know... I read a lot,

especially about things -- 

about History.

I find that shit fascinating.

Here's a fact I don't know

whether you know or not --

Sicilians were 

spawned by n*ggers.

....Come again?

No, it's-- it's a fact.

Yeah. You see, uh,

Sicilians have, uh,

Black Blood pumping 

through their hearts.

If you -- If you don't believe

me, uh, you can look it up.

Hundreds and hundreds of

years ago, uh, you see, um,

The Moors conquered Sicily.

And The Moors are n*ggers.

You see, way back then, uh,

Sicilians were like, uh,

wops from northern Italy.

They all had blond hair 

and blue eyes.

But, uh, well--

then the Moors moved in there, and...

well, they changed the whole country.

They did so much fucking

with Sicilian women...

that they changed the

whole bloodline forever.

That's why...

blond hair and blue eyes

became black hair and dark skin.

You know, it's absolutely amazing to me...

to think that to this day,

hundreds of years later,

that-- that Sicilians...

still carry that n*gger gene.

Now, this--

No, I'm quoting history.

It's written. It's a fact. It's written.

I love this guy.

No.

Your ancestors are n*ggers. Huh?

Hey.

Yeah.

And-- And your

great-great-great-great- grandmother

fucked a n*gger.

Yeah. And she had a half-n*gger kid.

Now, if that's a fact, 

Tell Me -- am I lying?

'Cause you -- You're part eggplant.

Huh? Hey, hey, hey.

You're a cantaloupe.

That's beautiful.

I haven't killed anybody...

since 1984.

Go to this comedian's son's apartment.

Come back with something that

tells me where that asshole went...

so I can wipe this egg off my face.

Fix this fucked-up family for good.

Hey, boss.

Get ready to be happy.

Lane

♪ Clowns to The Left of

Me, 

Jokers to The Right ♪

♪ Here I am, 

Stuck in

The Middle 

with You ♪

Natasha Romanoff/

The Black Widow:


[tied to a chair] 

WHAT?? I’m working..!!

I'm in the middle of an interrogation 

and this moron is giving me everything.

Mr. Blonde : 

Now, where were we?

Officer Nash : 

I told you, I don't know anything 

about any fucking setup.

I've been on the force 

for only eight months. 

They don't tell me anything.

Nobody tells me shit. 

You can torture me 

all you want.

Mr. Blonde : 

Torture you — 

That's a good... 

That's a good idea.

I like that one. Yeah.

Nash :

Even your boss said 

there wasn't a setup.

Mr. Blonde :

My what?

Nash :

Your boss.

Mr. Pink : 

Excuse me, pal, one thing

 I wanna make clear to you, 

I don't have ‘a BOSS’ — 

nobody tells me what to do.

You understand? You hear what

I said, you son of a bitch?

Nash : 

All right, all right, all right.

You don't have a boss. All right.

Mr. Pink : 

Get that fucking shit off.

Lookit, I'm not gonna 

bullshit you, ok?

I don't really give a good fuck

what you know or don't know.

But I'm gonna torture you anyway.

Regardless.

Not to get information.

It's amusing, to me, 

to torture a cop.

You can say anything you want, 

cause I've heard it all before.

All you can do is pray 

for a quick death... 

which... you ain't

gonna GET.

They TEND to Think You are SERIOUS.

BEN FRANKLIN: 

Politics is The Art of The Possible. 

What did you get by opposing the motion? 

It was carried with or without you;

all you did was make enemies. 

And-- and make yourself 

feel better, of course.

JOHN ADAMS: 

Do you not believe in 

saying what you think?

FRANKLIN: 

No, I'm very much against it. 

Thinking aloud is responsible 

for much of mankind's misery. 

Saint Thomas à Becket might have lived 

to a ripe, old age if he'd... hm. 

[smiles, nods, chuckling wryly; pause; takes a breath] 

You insulted Mr. Dickinson. 

[pause] 

You insulted him in public.

ADAMS: 

Would you have me 

insult him in private?

FRANKLIN: 

It's perfectly acceptable 

to insult someone in private. 

Sometimes they might even 

thank you for it afterwards, 

but when you do it in public, 

they tend to think you are serious.

ADAMS: 

I feel hated in this town.

FRANKLIN: 

Go gently. I beg you. 

You are a guest in Philadelphia. 

Fish and guests stink after three days.

FRANKLIN: 

Diplomacy is seduction in another guise, Mr. Adams.

ADAMS: 

[of COLONEL WASHINGTON] 

A natural leader.

FRANKLIN: 

Well, he's always the tallest man in the room. 

He's bound to end up leading something.

ABIGAIL ADAMS: 

Will General Howe attack again?

JOHN: 

It's impossible to say.

ABIGAIL: 

What is that but an Army of Occupation? 

And The Congress goes on its knees to The King. 

Has the king deigned to reply? 

[pause] 

I understand people like Mr. Dickinson 

and his friends all too well, John. 

Send a woman to The Congress, 

she might knock some sense into them.

JOHN: 

It is not a question of men and women, Abigail, 

it is a matter of politics.

ABIGAIL: 

Politics. Politics?

JOHN: 

Mm.

ABIGAIL: 

And do women not live politics, John Adams? 

When I go to the cupboard, and I find no coffee, no sugar, 

no pins, no meat, am I not living politics? [pause] 

This war touches people that your Congress 

treats with the same contempt 

King George reserves for the people of Boston. 

I mean women, yes, and slaves, too, for that matter.

JOHN: 

[looks at her]

ABIGAIL: 

Though I'm sure you-- you wish 

I would not mention that subject 

as it might upset your southern friends.

JOHN: [pause] 

You are harsh, madam.

ABIGAIL: 

I am cold. [pause] And frightened. 

I am afraid this war will never end. Or begin.

Bumming Around a Space Station, Talking About Their Feelings

Whistle!

Kindergarten Cop: Police school HD CLIP

The Smiths

 

"So, there is a scene in Pinocchio where 

Gepetto Wishes On a Star -

And what that means is, that 

He lifts up his eyes beyond The Horizon 

to see something Transcendent -

Something Ultimate, because that's What a Star is, 

it's part of The Eternity of The Night Sky.

And so he lifts his eyes up 

above his daily concerns, and he says :

"What I Want More Than Anything Else is that 
My Creation Will Become a Genuine Individual."

Right, it's a Heroic Gesture, 

because it's so unlikely.

And that catalyses The Puppet's 

transformation  into 

A Real Being.

And we start as puppets.

And so, The Trick is, to 

get rid of your 

goddamn strings.

Earth-Prime's history significantly deviated from Our Earth's History with the advent of two native superheroes. The first, Ultraa, was the sole survivor of a destroyed alien world, rocketed to Earth-Prime as a baby. After his first encounter with the Justice League, Ultraa decided Earth-Prime was not ready for superheroes and relocated to Earth-One.

The second superhero became known as Superboy-Prime. This Superboy's powers first manifested around the time of the passage of Halley's Comet on Earth-Prime, in 1986. 

Just after manifesting his powers, Superboy-Prime met Earth-One's Superman.

Very soon thereafter, Earth-Prime was destroyed in the Crisis on Infinite Earths. 

Superboy-Prime escaped his universe's destruction and later joined Earth-Two's Superman and Lois Lane Kent and Earth-Three's Alexander Luthor in a "paradise dimension". 

Superboy survived and reappeared at the dawn of a new crisis.

Entertainment

 

“There is some confusion 

as to what magic actually is. 

I think this can be cleared up 

if you just look at 

the very earliest 

descriptions of Magic. 

Magic in its earliest form 

is often referred to as “The Art”. 

I believe this is 

completely literal. 

I believe that magic is art 

and that art, whether it be writing, 

music, sculpture, 

or any other form is literally magic.

 Art is, like Magic, 

The Science of manipulating 

Symbols, Words, or Images, 

to achieve 

Changes in Consciousness. 

The very language about magic 

seems to be talking as much about 

writing or art as it is about 

supernatural events. 

A grimmoir for example, 

the book of spells 

is simply a fancy way 

of saying grammar. 

Indeed, to cast a spell, 

is simply to spell, 

to manipulate words, 

to change people's consciousness. 

And I believe that this is why an artist or writer is the closest thing in the contemporary world that you are likely to see to a Shaman.

I believe that all Culture must have arisen from Cult. 

Originally, all of the facets of our culture, 

whether they be in the arts or sciences 

were the province of the Shaman.

The fact that in present times, this magical power has degenerated to the level of cheap entertainment and manipulation, is, 

I think, a tragedy. 

At the moment the people 

who are using 

Shamanism and Magic 

to shape our culture 

are advertisers. 

Rather than try 

to wake people up, 

their Shamanism 

is used as an opiate 

to tranquillise people, 

to make people more manipulable. 

Their magic box of television, 

and by their magic words, 

their jingles 

can cause everyone 

in the country 

to be thinking 

the same words 

and have 

the same banal thoughts 

all at exactly 

the same moment. 

In all of magic there is an incredibly large linguistic component. 

The Bardic tradition of Magic 

would place a bard 

as being much higher 

and more fearsome 

than A Magician. 

A Magician might curse you —

That might make your hens lay funny 

or you might have 

a child born with a club foot. 

If a Bard were to place not a curse upon you, but a satire, 

then that could destroy you. 

If it was a clever satire, 

it might not just destroy you 

in the eyes of your associates; 

it would destroy you 

in the eyes of your family. 

It would destroy you 

in your own eyes. 

And if it was a finely worded and clever satire 

that might survive and be remembered for decades, 

even centuries. 

Then years after you were dead people still might be reading it 

and laughing at you 

and your wretchedness 

and your absurdity. 

Writers and people who had command of words 

were respected and feared as people who manipulated magic. 

In latter times I think that 

artists and writers 

have allowed themselves 

to be sold down the river. 

They have accepted 

the prevailing belief 

that art and writing 

are merely forms 

of entertainment. 

They’re not seen as transformative forces 

that can change a human being; 

that can change A Society. 

They are seen as 

simple entertainment; 

things with which we can 

fill 20 minutes, half an hour, 

while we’re waiting to die. 

It’s not the job of The Artist 

to give The Audience 

What The Audience WANTS.

If The Audience knew 

what they needed, 

then they wouldn’t 

be The Audience —

They would be The Artists. 

It is The Job of Artists 

to give The Audience 

what they need.

— Alan Moore

“A vaudeville was originally 

a comedy without psychological or moral intentions, 

based on a comical situation : a dramatic composition or light poetry, 

interspersed with songs or ballets.”

[Big Top]

(It is dark and quiet as The Doctor and Ace enter. They whisper to each other.)

ACE: 

Professor.

Time's Champion : 

Yes?

ACE: 

I can't see a thing.

Time's Champion : 

Neither can I.

ACE: 

And the cheering's stopped.

Time's Champion : 

Perhaps we're between performances. 

Let's see if we can find a seat.

(The Doctor feels his way to the stands and climbs the steps. He stubs his toe.)

ACE: 

Found somewhere to sit, Professor?

Time's Champion : 

That's one way of looking at it, 

if we could see. Over here.

ACE: 

What?

Time's Champion : 

I said, over here.

(They settle down.)

Time's Champion : 

In a moment, our eyes'll 

get used to The Darkness.

ACE: 

Assuming there's 

anything worth seeing.

(There is a rustling noise nearby.)

Time's Champion : 

Listen.

(On the row above them sits a 1950's family, 

Father, Mother 

and a little girl between them. 

They are eating a noisy snack.)

GIRL: 

Daddy. Daddy.

DAD: 

What?

GIRL: 

I want an ice cream.

DAD: 

You've already had one.

GIRL: 

But Daddy.

DAD: 

I told you once 

and I'm not going to 

tell you again. 

Now shut up and 

eat your popcorn.

Time's Champion : 

We're not alone.

ACE: 

Yeah, but it looks like 

it's just Us and Them. 

What a con. 

I mean, where's 

Mags and the Captain?

Time's Champion : 

Perhaps they haven't arrived yet. 

Who knows? 

Anyway, I'm going to have 

an ice cream.

MUM: 

They should be 

starting up again soon. 

Have a crisp, Father.

Time's Champion : 

Greetings. 

Not many in today, are there. 

Are you regulars 

or is this your first visit, too?

 Let me introduce myself. I'm —

(The Mother holds out the bag of crisps.)

Time's Champion : 

Oh, thank you very much. 

Delicious.

(The circus music starts and the lights come up.)

ACE: 

Professor. Professor, it's starting.

Time's Champion : 

Well, it's been a pleasure.

(The Doctor returns to sit with Ace as the ring fills with tumbling and juggling clowns.)

Time's Champion : 

Remarkable.

ACE: 

If you like this sort of thing.

Time's Champion : 

No, no, I mean the memorial stones. 

Do you see them? Look.

(Placed at intervals around the ring are old carved stones. 

The Ringmaster enters and the clowns freeze.)

RINGMASTER: 

Now welcome folks, 

I mean that from the heart, 

because The Greatest Show 

is about to start. 

It's happening right here 

before your very eyes 

and one thing's for sure, 

you're in for quite a surprise. 

But then, nothing's quite 

as it seems to be at 

The Greatest Show in the Galaxy.

(The Ringmaster adjusts the controls in the back of one clown and it does a somersault.)

RINGMASTER: 

Now welcome folks, 

we've got a brand new act. 

He's a real find and no doubt 

that's a fact. 

He'll entertain you, 

he'll make you stare, 

and our great new act 

is seated over there…!

(The spotlight falls on the Doctor.)

Time's Champion : 

Oh, thank you, but —

RINGMASTER: 

Come on, Doctor. Don't be shy.

Time's Champion : 

Well, I'm not really sure 

that I should.

RINGMASTER: 

Oh, no false modesty. 

We know you're Good.

Time's Champion : 

Well, this is most unexpected. 

Are you sure you want me?

RINGMASTER: 

There's no mistake, Doc. 

Come on in. Feel free.

ACE: 

Don't go, Professor.

Time's Champion : 

Why, what harm could it do?

RINGMASTER: 

Exactly. But the decision's up to you.

(Wearing a big grin, the Doctor pushes past Ace and hurries down the ring, to canned applause.)

ACE: 

No, Doctor!

(The Doctor has barely got into the ring when the clowns start throwing their clubs past him, front and back.)

Time's Champion : 

Well, you certainly didn't waste any time. 

I had expected to see what the opposition was up to 

before I put myself forward for the talent contest.

(Ace tries to run out of the Big Top but is surrounded by clowns behind the seating where the Doctor cannot see.)

Time's Champion : 

But since you insist.

RINGMASTER: 

Oh, we do, but no doubt 

you'd like to get yourself 

prepared first.

Time's Champion : 

Well, yes, I —

RINGMASTER: 

Let me show you and your charming assistant to your dressing room.

Time's Champion : 

Oh, thank you very much. Ace!

CLOWN: 

Where did you find that earring?

ACE: 

Are you a robot too?

CLOWN: 

No.

ACE: 

Pity.

CLOWN: 

So tell me where you found it.

(Ace gets away.)

CLOWN: 

After her.

[Backstage]

RINGMASTER: 

Right this way, Doctor.

Time's Champion : 

Thank you very much, but where's Ace? I don't think she —

RINGMASTER: 

Oh, she'll be coming.

CAPTAIN [OC]: Iniphitus, where the Galvanic Catastrophods are not what they were.

(The Doctor looks through to where the Captain is drinking tea and talking at a bored Nord while Mags is staring at nothing.)

CAPTAIN: 

No, but they're still worth a look if you're doing a tour of the southern nebula and have an eon or two to spare. You. Well, well.

Time's Champion : Captain Cook, I presume. So you had arrived after all.

CAPTAIN: 

But of course. Come and join us, Doctor. It's one big happy family here, eh, Nord?

NORD: Except when you're gassing on.

Time's Champion : Well, I don't really think I

CAPTAIN: Nonsense, we're having a ball here.

Time's Champion : Very well then. Mags. Do sit down, Doctor.

(Mags give up her seat next to the Captain and pours out some tea.)

Time's Champion : Thank you very much.

CAPTAIN: Yes, there we are. Comfy?

Time's Champion : Yes.

CAPTAIN: That's the spirit.

(Bars slide down over the entrance, then the curtains are all pulled back to reveal that the quartet are actually in a - )

[Cage]

CAPTAIN: Anything the matter, old chap?

Time's Champion : It's a trap! I've fallen into a trap! I've fallen for it.

CAPTAIN: Yes, I know, old boy. Never mind. Have some tea. A very similar thing happened to me once, you know.

(Ace uses the pin of the earring to slash the billowing fabric of the backstage corridors and hide from the pursuing clowns.)

Time's Champion : Why?

CAPTAIN: Why what?

Time's Champion : Why let me be trapped? It's so pointless. I could have saved you, Nord and Mags.

CAPTAIN: I wouldn't be too sure about that, Doctor. These circus chappies are pretty smart customers for all their let it all hang out mumbo jumbo.

MAGS: Maybe we could have escaped if we'd made a break for it there and then. If only you'd

CAPTAIN: Now, now, Mags. No use in getting upset, and that's an order.

Time's Champion : What about you? I mean, why didn't you speak up?

(Nord growls. The Doctor growls back.)

Time's Champion : What kind of answer's that?

CAPTAIN: Save your energy, Doctor. You'll soon see why. Anyway, all of us in here have developed a survival philosophy, which is why we welcomed you in.

Time's Champion : 

What is all this, then? 

I thought there was 

a talent contest going on.

CAPTAIN: 

Well, yes, but in a way 

it's more like a survival of the fittest.

(A man in a suede jacket pushes a broom round the outside of the cage.)

CAPTAIN: 

Oh, that's Deadbeat. 

Yes, he does odd jobs about the place, 

makes the tea for me, things like that. 

Don't bother too much about him, though. 

Fellow's mind's completely gone.

DEADBEAT: 

Gone. Gone. Oh really gone. 

All really gone down the road again.

[Cage]

(The zapping noise can be heard and the strobing lights seen.)

Time's Champion : 

Is this what you saw before?

MAGS: Not exactly, but just as bad.

(There is a peal of thunder then a big flash, and smoke. The Ringmaster picks up a piece of charred leather from the middle of the ring to canned applause.)

Time's Champion : Would you let something like that happen to you?

MAGS: Would you?

[Ticket office]

WHIZZKID: It must be awfully exciting working for the Psychic Circus, Morgana. Particularly when you did your tour of the Boreatic Wastes. I think that most of your admirers would agree with me that that was one of your finest ever gigs. Well, in so far as you can tell from the posters

MORGANA: Would you like to be getting along inside?

WHIZZKID: You mean I can go in, just like that?

MORGANA: Yes. Go right now, please.

WHIZZKID: Oh wow!

[Cage]

(The Doctor is practising his juggling with Mags.)

CAPTAIN: Mags.

MAGS: What?

CAPTAIN: It's not going to work. I remember when I was on the baleful plains of Grolon, I

MAGS: I don't care.

Time's Champion : Ready?

(Mags and the Doctor go to the cage door, where a pair robot clowns stand guard.)

Time's Champion : I believe I'm on first.

MAGS: No, I'm ahead of you.

Time's Champion : No, you're not.

MAGS: No, I am.

Time's Champion : I insist on going out first.

MAGS: Oh no, you don't.

Time's Champion : Oh yes, I do!

[Big Top]

(The Ringmaster enters.)

RINGMASTER: Now listen folks, we have a great new act. He's a real find, there's no doubt that's a fact. He'll entertain you, he'll make you stare, and our great new act is seated over there!

(The spotlight finds Whizzkid.)

MUM: I hope he's better than the last one.

DAD: Couldn't be much worse.

GIRL: Mum, Mum.

MUM: Shut up and eat your popcorn.

[Cage]

Time's Champion : Look, I insist in going on first.

MAGS: I told you, I am.

Time's Champion : I am!

(The clowns come over and the door slides up. The Doctor and Mags knock them out with the clubs.)

Time's Champion : Join the club. Captain?

CAPTAIN: 

No thanks, old boy. I'll sit this one out. 

Goodbye, Mags.

MAGS: 

Bye, Captain.

ckstage]

Time's Champion : 

Something dreadful's 

happening in the ring. 

Things are getting out of control 

quicker than I expected.

DAD [OC]: 

Calling The Doctor. 

Calling the Doctor.

Time's Champion : 

Nothing will satisfy Them 

but my presence.

MAGS: 

I'm coming back in there with you.

Time's Champion : 

No. You must run and get 

Ace and Deadbeat.

(Mags runs off.)

Time's Champion : 

I must prepare for my entrance. 

Never keep your audience waiting.

(The clowns chase Mags outside, then they head for the hearse. Down in the well, the eye gets bigger.)

[Ticket office]

(A wind starts to blow.)

Time's Champion : 

I'm coming. 

Open a pathway for me. 

Once small step for mankind, 

one great leap, 

or words to that effect —

(The Doctor pulls apart the canvas entrance to the Circus and steps into a kaleidoscope world of noise and colour. He fights his way through with gritted teeth to -)

[Arena]

(A semi-circular sand floor, grey stone walls with one grilled doorway, and three large figures sitting on thrones looking down.)

Time's Champion : 

And here we all are at last. 

I'm surprised you brought me here. 

It must be very difficult for you, 

trying to exist concurrently 

in two different time spaces. 

I know the problem myself. 

No wonder those memorial stones looked familiar. 

The Gods of Ragnarok, 

I presume.

[By the snack stall]

(The stallholder has hitched the stall to her horse and is manoeuvring it to turn round. Mags jumps over the hitch and keeps running.)

STALLHOLDER: 

Don't you frighten my horse like that, you hippie weirdo.

(The hearse has to stop and sound its horn.)

STALLHOLDER: 

Shut up, circus riff-raff. 

You don't own this planet, you know.

[Arena]

Time's Champion : 

How many people have you destroyed, I wonder, 

before Kingpin 

was lured down here. 

Poor Kingpin. 

That's what you like, isn't it. 

Taking someone with a touch 

of individuality and imagination, 

and wearing them down to nothingness 

in Your Service.

DAD: 

Enough.

MUM: 

You have said enough.

Time's Champion : 

Enough? I've hardly started. 

I have fought 

The Gods of Ragnarok 

all through time.

(The Doctor looks at his watch.)

DAD: 

You are in our true 

time space now, Doctor. 

There is no appeal beyond its confines to any other.

Time's Champion : 

Don't tell me what you want me to do. 

Let me guess. Now let me see. 

You want me to —

DAD: 

Entertain us.

MUM: 

Entertain us.

DAD: 

Or die. So long as 

you entertain us, you may live.

MUM: 

When you no longer 

entertain us, you die.

Time's Champion : 

Predictable as ever, 

Gods of Ragnarok. 

As I think it's been said before, 

or was it after? Anyway, 

You ain't seen nothin' yet.

(The Doctor leans and swings round at a remarkable angle.)

[Segonax]

(Ace and Deadbeat meet Mags.)

ACE: 

Hey, Mags! 

Where's The Doctor?

MAGS: 

Back at the circus.

ACE: 

So you're on your own now?

MAGS: 

Not exactly. Look.

(Here comes the hearse. Mags sees the completed medallion.)

MAGS: 

That's what they're after.

DEADBEAT: 

Oh, I might have guessed.

ACE: 

So how do we get it back to The Doctor? 

Oh, dumbo! Not you two, me. 

I've got an idea. Come on!

MAGS: 

Wrong way!

ACE: 

Not for this. 

Come on, Kingpin!

[Arena]

(The Doctor has a table in front of him, with a large pan and its cover.)

Time's Champion : 

Thank you very much, 

Ladies and Gentlemen, 

for that overwhelming reception. 

And now, I would like to begin 

like Life, at The Beginning. 

But how did Life begin? 

Was it with a chicken 

or was it with -

DAD: 

What?

(The Doctor produces an egg from his mouth and puts it in the pan. Then a second one which goes into his hand and disappears.)

MUM: 

Don't try our patience.

(She throws a lightning bolt near the Doctor.)

DAD: 

Don't play games.

Time's Champion : 

You're not interested in beginnings.

 You're only interested in endings.

[Campsite]

MAGS: 

Oh no, not that thing again. 

Come on.

DEADBEAT: 

Dumbo. Bellboy's robot.

ACE: 

Dead right, Kingpin.

(The three hide behind the robot as the hearse pulls up and the clowns run out.)

CLOWN: 

Bellboy's greatest mistake. 

What a place to choose. 

You may have The Eye again, Deadbeat, 

but you won't use it. 

You know that. 

You're not strong enough! 

You weren't before.

DEADBEAT: 

At least I tried. 

You just gave in.

CLOWN: 

Yes, and I shall get my reward. 

Last chance, Deadbeat. 

We really believed in all that talk 

of Peace and Love

ACE: 

This thing had better work, 

or I'll kick its head in.

(Ace jabs at the remote control. After a few moments, the robot lasers one of the robot clowns, then the other three. Finally it kills the clown himself and keeps firing as Ace keeps pushing buttons. Then it goes quiet.)

MAGS: 

For a moment I thought you weren't going to be able to make it stop.

ACE: 

Funny you should say that.

DEADBEAT: 

He used to be a great clown.

ACE: 

I've never liked clowns.

[Arena]

(To the strains of Narcissus being played on a violin, the Doctor produces a length of rope and ties the ends together.)

Time's Champion : 

What, no complaints? 

No arguments? 

No thunderbolts?

(The rope falls into a single length with the knot still in it.)

DAD: 

No, Doctor.

MUM: 

We're not concerned that 

You're Playing for Time.

(The Doctor has untied the knot and is now fastening the two pieces of rope together. Then he stands on a loose end and pulls it into a single piece of rope again.)

DAD: 

We have A Saying :

Time's Champion : 

Let me guess —

Give yourself enough rope 

and you hang yourself.

(The Doctor looks at his watch again.)

[Campsite]

ACE: 

Kingpin.

DEADBEAT: 

I only hope we make it in time. 

The Doctor's stronger than I ever was, 

but even he can't hold out against them forever.

(Mags, Ace and Deadbeat get into the hearse.)

ACE: 

He'll have a good stab at it, though.

[Arena]

DAD: 

You are nearing 

The End, Doctor.

Time's Champion : 

A piece of rope 

has two ends, 

Father Ragnarok.

(The Doctor coils the rope into the pan. 

Then he produces a long candle from his handkerchief and lights it with a flame apparently from his palm. 

He puts the lit candle to the pan with bursts into flames, 

briefly puts the cover over it to extinguish them and removes a snake from it. 

Mum throws a thunderbolt.)

MUM: 

Feel the rain, Doctor.

DAD: 

Feel the chill in your bones.

(The Doctor turns around and the snake turns into his umbrella. He puts it up just before the downpour starts.)

[By the Ticket Office]

(The wind is still howling. Ace stops to look at the crystal ball.)

DEADBEAT: 

Ace, quick! Come on!

[Arena]

(The Doctor is attempting to escape from a strait-jacket whilst hanging by his ankles from a rope.)

DAD: 

Doctor.

Time's Champion : 

Yes?

DAD: 

You are trifling with us.

Time's Champion : 

Really? I thought 

I was entertaining you.

(He gets the strait-jacket off.)

DAD: 

You are on the brink 

of Destruction, Doctor. 

We want something bigger, something better.

Time's Champion : 

Do you, now?

[Big Top]

(Deadbeat, Mags and Ace run into the deserted ring.)

ACE: 

The Doctor must be here somewhere.

DEADBEAT: 

Well, he may already be in 

The Dark Circus with The Gods. 

If so, there's only one way 

we can reach him.

MAGS: 

The Stone Chamber.

ACE: 

And the medallion?

DEADBEAT: 

Yeah. We must be careful. 

They're bound to sense its presence.

[Arena]

(The Doctor is back on his feet.)

Time's Champion : 

Do I have your full attention?

(He checks his wrist watch.)

[Ticket Office]

DEADBEAT: 

You do realise that 

They'll try anything to stop us?

ACE: 

Yes. Let's go.

(Behind the advertising boards, the Captain sits up from the stretcher and puts on his pith helmet.)

[Arena]

Time's Champion : 

The climax of My Act, 

Gods of Ragnarok, 

requires something 

You Do Not Possess 

in great abundance. 

That is, Imagination. 

And it starts with 

A Piece of Metal. 

This Piece of Metal 

once belonged to 

A Sword, 

and that Sword 

belonged to 

A Gladiator.

(The Doctor throws the piece of metal into the air, where it transforms into a gladius, and then a long sword drops into his hand.)

Time's Champion : 

And That Gladiator 

fought and died 

in this ring to 

entertain you.

[Stone chamber]

(Deadbeat stops at the well.)

ACE: 

Go for it, Kingpin.

(But the Eye is staring back up at him. He backs away.)

MAGS: 

Kingpin, please.

ACE: 

Well, one of us had better try.

(Deadbeat holds out the medallion and shuts his eyes. The Captain hits him in the kidneys and catches the medallion as he falls.)

CAPTAIN: 

Perhaps I might relieve you of that.

MAGS: 

Captain, I thought 

You were Dead.

CAPTAIN: 

I am, my dear. I am.

[Arena]

Time's Champion : 

I have fed you enough, 

Gods of Ragnarok, 

and you found 

what I have to offer indigestible. 

So I have taken myself 

off The Menu. 

La comedia e finita.

DAD: 

We Command You.

MUM: 

You Cannot Stop.

Time's Champion : 

I already have.

DAD: 

Then You Will Die.

Time's Champion : 

Probably not --

It's all a matter of Timing, 

don't you know.

(The Doctor points The Sword to The Ground.)

[Stone chamber]

ACE: 

Oi, sarcophagus face!

(The Captain turns and Mags kicks the medallion out of his hand and into the well. It lands on the sword and the Doctor uses it to reflect the Gods' Thunderbolts back at Them.

The Eye in the well grows.)

DEADBEAT: 

Quick.

CAPTAIN: 

You know, when I was on 

The Planet Periboea, 

I met someone who walked around 

when he was already dead. 

I must say, as an experience 

I'd say it's very overrated.

(The Captain falls into the well.)

[Ticket office]

DEADBEAT: 

Look. Get down!

(The crystal ball explodes.

In the arena, the Gods stop firing laser bolts at the Doctor and slump in their seats. The walls crack and buckle. The Doctor throws the sword and medallion at them then raises his hat as the whole place falls apart.

The Big Top crumples as the arena disintegrates. The Doctor walks out and doesn't flinch as an explosion occurs just behind him.)

[Segonax]

(A huge red pillar of smoke climbs to the sky. The Stallholder speaks to her horse.)

STALLHOLDER: 

It's what I've always said --

No consideration for those of us that live here.

[Outside the Circus]

Time's Champion : 

Enjoying The Show, Ace?

ACE : 

Yeah. It was Your Show all along, wasn't it?

MAGS: 

The Captain really is finished now, isn't he?

Time's Champion : 

Yes. But you're just about to start.

DEADBEAT: 

Doctor, I've been thinking.

Time's Champion : 

What better way for a circus to begin 

than with a wonderful new act.

ACE: 

Yeah, weird and wonderful. Nice one, Professor. You'll knock them dead.

MAGS: 

That's just what I'm afraid of. 

What if I can't control it?

Time's Champion : 

Oh, you can, Mags. 

You already have.

DEADBEAT: 

What about it, Doctor? You and Ace. 

Join Kingpin's new circus 

and travel The Galaxy with us.

Time's Champion : 

Thank you, Kingpin, but I'm afraid we've got other galaxies to travel. And besides, I find circuses a little sinister.