GRAHAM WILLIAMS: Alright, Bob..
BOB HOLMES: What the fuck do YOU want?
GW: Er, well, commissioning you. That's generally what I come to you about.
BH: Oh, yes. Damn straight it is. When was the last time you bought me a pint?!?
GW: ... yesterday.
BH: You see the problem I have with this?
GW: *Sigh* Alright, Bob, would you like to go to the pub?
BH: Not with that attitude, you miserable bastard. AHAHAAHAHAHA! You know why I can say stuff like that?
GW: Because you're the best writer in the world?
BH: And you are..?
GW: Nothing, Bob.
BH: That's right. You are NOTHING. Ahhh, I live for this...
GW: I've noticed..
BH: So, what were you wasting my time with?
GW: Well, the head of drama wants the new series of Doctor Who to be more light-hearted...
BH: Stop right there. More light hearted?
BH: Last time I watched it Tom Baker was dressed up like a barrister holding court over a room of flashing lights that were apparently meant to be robot lawyers who talked like Jeffrey Robertson.
GW: Yes, I remember that one.
BH: Fine. Just checking that we were on the same page. So... what do you want in this new, even more light-hearted series?
BH: Because *I* was thinking about a story wherein a long-dead xenophobic civilisation has set about a series of Trojan-horse traps to spread the most potent virus ever created, specifically to target those with deep-space travel and thus destroy any rival empire-builders, and the Doctor arrives too late to save anybody, leaving behind a planet that's a gigantic charnel house and tragedy upon blood-stained tragedy.
BH: Fine, what's YOUR idea, then?
GW: Personally, I was thinking of... well a bit of a throw-back story. You know.. bring back some old characters.
BH: I'm sorry? You want me to write... fan-stuff? *spit!*
GW: I think it would go down well. Get them on-side. At least cause the death-threats from Stephen Payne to subside and the only other obvious option for THAT is to make his bald mate with the toothbrush the Doctor and that will only happen over my dead body.
BH: I might have known that some preposterous aspect of cowardice was at the gangrenous heart of the malaise.
GW: My God, you actually talk like that?
BH: Occassionally. When I'm sober. So anyway... you want some old characters?
GW: One or two.
BH: Any one or two? Just anything at all? So, in short, you want me to write ANY OLD RUBBISH???
GW: Now, there's no need to be like-
BH: Oh, no, no you've asked for it Graham and I'm going to bloody do it. So here we go... the Doctor decides to ditch Romana and go around with K9, but he gets so pissed off with him after two seconds that he decides that he needs to bring Captain Hawkins from UNIT and Goudry from the Sunmakers - and they decide to rob a casino. The Doctor can't get into this action quick enough, but once they land there they're stunned to see that the casino is run by the Controller from Day of the Daleks and an EVIL version of K9! Furthermore they're in an evil alliance with Chessene, that bint from that script I pitched to you last Sunday-
GW: I don't remember that..
BH: I may have rung the Chinese take-out by mistake I was off my face like Apollo at the time. So anyway Chessene's in an alliance with the Controller that revolves around hunting down the sole survivor of the massacre on the storm miner in Robots of Death-
BH: No, Borg.
BH: I SHOULD KNOW, I WROTE THE BLOODY THING! So, anyway, the Doctor twigs that Borg is hiding out as a drunken cowboy because he needs to serve a greater purpose for the Universe as he can see given that he's working with the Keeper of Traken in disguise..
BH: Oh. That's right he's from when I got caught in the elevator with Johnny Byrne... so anyway the Doctor knows that he's screwed when he finds out that the Controller's chief goon is none other than Bill Filer, ace secret agent and seriously bad mother, so he needs to work from the inside to collapse the economy by training Goudry to be a super-genius to take on Mr Sin, the grand chessmaster of the planet.
BH: Oh, and Amelia Ducat in her underwear!
GW: Doing what?
BH: Haven't thought that far ahead yet. But... yes. Amelia Ducat in her underwear. That works for me, that really does. So, do I get paid now?
GW: Erm... I'll see you around, Bob.
BH: What ... WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?
GW: Erm, that I think there are lemons that would work better as scripts than that.
BH: Oh, yeah? Well I'll show you - this episode is going to get made NO MATTER WHAT!
The incredible true story of how Blakes 7: Gambit was written.