What if Alfred Noyes had shipped it?
Apologies are due to Mister Noyes for what I have done to his poem. With the historical challenge to tempt me, I simply couldn't resist. The poem you'll find beneath the cut is what I imagine might have happened if Noyes had adapted "The Mind of Evil" to suit his poetic fancy. I suppose I also owe Don Hughton an apology, for what I have done to his very excellent script...
Here is a link to the original poem. If you haven't read it, I would highly recommend that you do so before reading my rather poor parody.
The Brig was asleep in quarters, dreaming of Liz Shaw’s arms
Jo Grant was abed in her uncle’s manse, thinking of Mike Yates’ charms
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the Doctor he came driving--
Driving--driving--
The Doctor he came driving, up to the gaol Stangmoor.
He'd a silk lined cloak on his shoulders, and a bunch of lace at his chin;
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of cotton thin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!
And he drove with a jeweled twinkle--
The rings he wore a-twinkle--
His rakish eye a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the prison-yard,
The Master was waiting for him, though the doors were locked and barred,
He’d cast a glance out the window, and what should be idling there
But the Doctor’s yellow roadster--
Bess, the Doctor’s roadster--
Casting her brilliant headlights into the night’s black air.
He showed no love to the Doctor; he locked him away instead,
He locked him away and left him, to lie on a narrow bed.
T’was justice that he suffer, ‘fore ruling at his side.
The Doctor watched the window,
Stared out one barred window,
He’d run for many a year now, but now he could not hide.
He bound him up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!
He stood with a rifle before him, with the barrel beneath his breast!
"Dark dreams await!" and he kissed him. He heard false Theta say,
"Look for my old TARDIS“
Watch for my old TARDIS
I'll come to thee in my TARDIS, though Hell should bar the way."
Dark in the dark old prison, a leather chair it creaked
There the good Doctor languished--his face was white and peaked--
His eyes were hollows of sadness, his hair like dampened hay,
But he heard the Master's laughter--
The Master's black-eyed laughter;
He thrilled at his lover’s laughter, and he wished that he could stay
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,
A conquered universe ‘neath my feet, before the morning light.
Then I’ll make love to you softly, through night and through the day,
Look for my old TARDIS,
Watch for my old TARDIS,
I'll come to thee in my TARDIS, though Hell should bar the way."
He struggled against his bondage; he shrank from touch of his hand,
But he longed to kiss the Master! His touch burnt like a brand
He closed his eyes to the darkness and breathed the Master’s breath,
Then he kissed his lips in the moonlight
(O blackest smile in the moonlight!),
He kissed his lips in the moonlight, and thought of love and death.
Here is a link to the original poem. If you haven't read it, I would highly recommend that you do so before reading my rather poor parody.
The Brig was asleep in quarters, dreaming of Liz Shaw’s arms
Jo Grant was abed in her uncle’s manse, thinking of Mike Yates’ charms
The road was a ribbon of moonlight looping the purple moor,
And the Doctor he came driving--
Driving--driving--
The Doctor he came driving, up to the gaol Stangmoor.
He'd a silk lined cloak on his shoulders, and a bunch of lace at his chin;
He'd a coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of cotton thin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle; his boots were up to his thigh!
And he drove with a jeweled twinkle--
The rings he wore a-twinkle--
His rakish eye a-twinkle, under the jeweled sky.
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the prison-yard,
The Master was waiting for him, though the doors were locked and barred,
He’d cast a glance out the window, and what should be idling there
But the Doctor’s yellow roadster--
Bess, the Doctor’s roadster--
Casting her brilliant headlights into the night’s black air.
He showed no love to the Doctor; he locked him away instead,
He locked him away and left him, to lie on a narrow bed.
T’was justice that he suffer, ‘fore ruling at his side.
The Doctor watched the window,
Stared out one barred window,
He’d run for many a year now, but now he could not hide.
He bound him up at attention, with many a sniggering jest!
He stood with a rifle before him, with the barrel beneath his breast!
"Dark dreams await!" and he kissed him. He heard false Theta say,
"Look for my old TARDIS“
Watch for my old TARDIS
I'll come to thee in my TARDIS, though Hell should bar the way."
Dark in the dark old prison, a leather chair it creaked
There the good Doctor languished--his face was white and peaked--
His eyes were hollows of sadness, his hair like dampened hay,
But he heard the Master's laughter--
The Master's black-eyed laughter;
He thrilled at his lover’s laughter, and he wished that he could stay
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight,
A conquered universe ‘neath my feet, before the morning light.
Then I’ll make love to you softly, through night and through the day,
Look for my old TARDIS,
Watch for my old TARDIS,
I'll come to thee in my TARDIS, though Hell should bar the way."
He struggled against his bondage; he shrank from touch of his hand,
But he longed to kiss the Master! His touch burnt like a brand
He closed his eyes to the darkness and breathed the Master’s breath,
Then he kissed his lips in the moonlight
(O blackest smile in the moonlight!),
He kissed his lips in the moonlight, and thought of love and death.