Five-Minute "The Ribos Operation"
by Curt Rozeboom
White Guardian: Doctor, your holiday plans have been canceled. You've been chosen to find the Time McGuffin.
Doctor: Anyone with the power to cancel my Risa reservation could surely get their own Time McMuffin.
White Guardian: The Time McGuffin (ahem) is in six scattered and disguised segments. When assembled, they will stop everything.
Doctor: Sounds more like a key than a McMuffin. All right then, I suppose K-9 and I can handle it.
White Gaurdian: Bah. K-9 is only a fancy computer on wheels.
Doctor: Shhh! Don't tell him that. I use him as a deus-ex-machina so much he thinks he's a doggus-ex-machina.
White Guardian: Look, I've already cast your new companion, so you're stuck with her. One final thing, Doctor. As you can see from my speaker credit, I am the White Guardian. Beware my counterpart, the Black Guardian, he has agents everywhere!
Doctor: How will I know them?
White Guardian: Keep a close eye on the speaker credits.
Romanad'vorat-relundar: Hello, Doctor.
Doctor: K-9, I'm afraid you've been upstaged.
Camera Operator: Bomp-chicka-bow-bow!
Doctor: You've made a hole in my TARDIS console!
Romanad'vorat-relundar: Yes, apparently we're supposed to insert this long stick into it and...
Doctor: Moving on. What else does your tricksy device do?
Romanad'vorat-relundar: Well, if you push this button, it vibrates more and more the closer you get...
Romanad'vorat-relundar: I've done it again, haven't I?
Shrieve: Lights out! Good night, sleep tight, don't let the shrivenzales bite!
Shrivenzale: Bugger! I've dropped my pen under this door, where'd it go?
Unstoffe: How am I supposed to get past the shrivenzale, again?
Garron: Haven't you read the biblical story of Daniel?
Garron: Or we could drug it.
Romanad'vorat-relundar: What's our first destination?
Doctor: This gimmicky Trixter of yours can't seem to make up its mind where we're going.
Romanad'vorat-relundar: That's hardly a gimmick, it's the core and tracer of the Time McGuff-- oh, I see now.
Graff Vynda-K: Greetings, Garron, I am the noble Graff Vynda-K and this is Sholack, my comic relief.
Sholakh: That's General Comic Relief, sire.
TARDIS: Vworp, vworp, vworp.
Romanad'vorat-relundar: C-c-can't w-w-e g-g-go s-s-somewhere w-w-warmer? W-with a-a m-m-mall?
Doctor: Not as long as I'm driving. Now, we've got to establish some ground rules. One, do exactly as I say, even if it defies all reason. Two, stick close to me, or make sure you have a very good set of lungs. Three, let me do all the talking; you'll be lucky to get a word in edgewise anyway.
Romanad'vorat-relundar: And have any of your prior assistants followed those rules?
Doctor: It has been known. One more thing -- your name. It's giving the fiver-writer a hand-cramp.
Romanad'vorat-relundar: You mean he's never heard of cut and paste?
Romana: Oh no, my least favorite aunt always used to call me that!
Ro: Fine, fine, Romana, then. And get this bumpy ridge off my nose.
Garron: Graff, in order to remain incognito, just tell anyone you meet we're from "the North."
Sholakh: Will that fool them?
Garron: I don't see why not. I'm told lots of planets have one.
Graff Vynda-K: Good, I'm not paying top dollar for a planet without one.
Romana: The trix-- tracer shows the segment is behind that locked door. Now what?
Doctor: You may be impressive with your Trixter, but now it's my turn: sonic screwdriver!
Romana: Screwdriver? Now, who looks at a screwdriver and thinks, "Oh, this could be a little more sonic"?
Doctor: If you keep stealing new series lines, I'm sending you back.
Graff Vynda-K: I'm going to set my maximum bid to 6 million and hope no one outbids me.
Sholakh: Highness, according to this document, this planet is rich in the mineral mcguffinite.
Graff Vynda-K: It's always those last few seconds you have to -- Mcguffinite! That's just the gimmick I need to build an army to take back my throne!
Romana: What's taking so long getting the cabinet open? I thought your sonic screwdriver was all that.
Doctor: Unfortunately, when it comes to actual screws the darn thing just strips them bare.
Shrivenzale-Keeper: Whoo! That's some kinda nasty drink, won't you have some?
Unstoffe: Nah, that crap will kill you.
Shrivenzale-Keeper: It'll what -- GAK!
Unstoffe: Cool, a horn! Maybe I'll play "Taps."
Romana: Who's ever playing that horn is loud enough to wake a sleeping giant!
Shrivenzale: So sue me for being a heavy sleeper who needs a loud alarm clock.
Shrieve Guard: Something's blocking the door, sir. It could be the shrivenzale.
Shrieve Captain: Well raise the door then, we don't want the wrath of his union on us!
Romana: Doctor, someone's coming! We've got to hide!
Doctor: Quick, behind these screens, then we'll duck out! It worked for Polonius.
Romana: Wait, wasn't he killed?
Garron: Greetings, I am a merchant from the North. Might I bank a million opecs in your strong-room?
Shrieve Captain: A million! That would be almost enough to buy this entire planet! Yes, I suppose.
Garron: Good, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't mention that bit of trivia again.
Garron: ...walking and we're stopping. The treasure room where is kept a collection of crowns, jewelry and un-notable precious stones.
Graff Vynda-K: Well, have you noticed this mcguffinite stone? It's a very pretty shade of blue!
Garron: Oh. I'm not qualified as a geologist. But perhaps this completely random Shrieve could tell us something?
Shrieve Unstoffe: Yar, that be a bit o' scringe-stone they found in me ole da's pocket just before he died, ya-see.
Graff Vynda-K: Where did your "da'" get it, then?
Shrieve Unstoffe: From the mine he found under a bridge, just before he died.
Sholakh: A bridge, eh? Can we buy this bridge?
Shrieve Unstoffe: Yes and I can sell you a map, if you like. I can tell you more when I'm off duty, sir.
Garron: I'm scringing at the very thought!
Romana: What's so important about this mcguffinite, besides being a very pretty shade of blue?
Doctor: Every ship in the history of science fantasy runs on mcguffinite! This stone could power an entire series!
Graff Vynda-K: Alright, Garron. I'll purchase your planet at the "Buy-It-Now" price before someone outbids me.
Garron: A wise choice, sir. You can expect delivery in 6 to 8 weeks after you make a deposit.
Graff Vynda-K: A deposit? That wasn't in the auction terms... oh, I see it. Well... to avoid any negative feedback.
Sholakh: I don't suppose this planet has PayPal?
Garron: Even better -- a strong-room with a credulous captain.
Graff Vynda-K: Hey, a fire. I wonder if they've got chocolate for s'mores -- wait, what's this?
Bug: I'm not bugging you, am I?
Garron: ...And another thing, I will not have you selling non-existent bridges. Stick to non-existent deeds to planets!
Unstoffe: Sorry, Garron. Hey, have you been noticing that big fellah with the girl?
Garron: Yeah, I've been noticing h-- them a lot, lately.
Doctor: We'll hide out on this open stairwell and wait for them to go for the mcguffinite.
Romana: Won't they notice us?
Doctor: Not if the cameras never show us in the same frame!
Graff Vynda-K: Sholack, Garron has been bugging us!
Sholakh: He is a bit annoying, but what do you expect from a salesman?
Graff Vynda-K: He can hear everything we've been saying!
Sholakh: Oh. You don't think he heard me playing with my dolls, do you?
Garron: All right Unstoffe, it's time for you to go for the gold!
Doctor: Romana, I'm going to make sure Unstoffe escapes before we capture them!
Shrieve Guard: Halt! No one is allowed out after curfew without a hall-pass!
Doctor: I really ought to get some psychic paper for these circumstances. Ok, watch this -- watch!
Unstoffe: Someone's coming, I'll hide behind this screen, just like Polonius -- wait, wasn't he killed?
Doctor: Did I get here in time? Let's see, gold -- gone, mcguffinite -- gone, Unstoffe -- hey, come back!
Doctor: Surprise! You're under arrest! Romana, have you got him covered?
Romana: I'm trying to hold him in my icy stare!
Garron: Well, now my name is Mudd.
Sholakh: Surprise! You're under arrest! How should they be punished, highness?
Graff Vynda-K: Well, they tried to steal my gold, it ought to be pretty stiff... what do you think?
Sholakh: I think we should banish them to the Isle of Perpetual Tickling!
Doctor: You mean the island where you are tickled day and night?
Romana: Night and day?
Garron: Without stopping, even if you say, "Pretty, please?"
Graff Vynda-K: Yes, it's in our quarters. It'll be my pleasure to tickle the truth out of you!
Shrieve Captain: Don't worry about your gold, merchant. We've got a medium on the case!
Graff: You have Allison Dubois?
Shrieve Captain: No, we had to settle for an out of work teacher named Trelawney.
Sholakh: Help me with this crossword, Doctor. Eight letters, the sound the road-runner makes.
Garron's Wrist Communicator: BEEP! BEEP!
Sholakh: Thanks, Wrist Communicator! Wait -- communicator? There's another accomplice on the loose!
Garron: I've never been in a situation this hairy before. My name really is mud, now. Get it? Hairy? Mud?
Doctor: Thanks for running that into the ground. Fortunately, I have just the doggus-ex-machina we need.
Binro: In here, quickly you must come!
Unstoffe: Thanks -- hey, this place stinks! What is this hole?
Binro: Not a hole! My home, this is!
Professor Trelawney: I'm getting a vision, it's coming... coming... he is in... the place of fires.
Graff Vynda-K: What the hell?
Shrieve Captain: No, no, she means the city concourse.
Sholakh: Guard, we're going to the concourse to find the thief. When you hear the hooting, tickle the prisoners!
Garron: This is serious! We've got to warn my friend or we'll all die laughing!
Doctor: I can use the bug you planted to fix your comlink with my microscopic soldering iron.
Romana: I don't see a soldering iron...
Doctor: I told you, it's microscopic!
Binro: A theory had I once. Proof I had, that part of a science fantasy story we all are!
Unstoffe: You're right, Binro. It's not just a superstition. There really isn't a fourth wall.
Garron: (over the comm) Unstoffe, you're about to be in a very ticklish situation. Get out of the concourse!
Binro: Help you I can. Hide we must in the catacombs.
Professor Trelawney: I'm getting another vision! The one you seek has gone to hide in the catacombs!
Shrieve Captain: There's no point in searching any longer. No one ever returns from the catacombs.
Graff Vynda-K: Oh, how convenient for you. How do you know he's there, witch?
Professor Trelawney: I've been reading ahead.
K-9: I have stunned the guard, master!
Doctor: Only stunned? Hmmm, I need to work on your killer instincts, K-9.
Romana: The tracer is pointing us to the catacombs. That must be where Unstoffe is.
Garron: How do you know?
Doctor: She's been reading ahead, come on!
K-9: Master, lifeforms approaching! Quick, we must hide in these graves!
Doctor: All right, it worked for Juliet!
Romana: Wait, wasn't she killed?
Mother Shrivenzale: Poopy-kins! Has anyone seen my little poopy-kins?
Graff Vynda-K: That was close. We don't want to get between a mother shrivenzale and her, uh... spawn.
Sholakh: We need a guide. Let's get that witch and use her sixth sense for breaking the fourth wall.
Unstoffe: You see, every ship in science fantasy runs on mcguffinite! This stone could power an entire series!
Binro: Then right I was! Fulfilled my prediction has been!
Romana: Oh no! First I got separated from the Doctor, now Garron's gone and I can't find the tracer!
K-9: My calculations show that on a scale of 1 to 10 of most worthless companions, you are at least an 8, mistress.
Romana: At least I don't need to be carried up stairs.
Graff Vynda-K: Now witch, I predict that you will either find the thief or die. Can you top that?
Professor Trelawney: All but one of us are doomed to die!
Sholakh: Oh, like that's a hard prediction to make in a 70s Doctor Who episode.
Garron: Unstoffe, I've got to be right on top of you or this device really is a Trixter!
Unstoffe: Silly rabbit! Trixters are for kids!
Shrieve Captain: I'll show them how to fulfill a prediction! Prepare to blast the catacombs in 5...
Professor Trelawney: I was right, I was right! I found the one you seek!
Shrieve Captain: 4...
Graff Vynda-K: Guards, fire the rods of tickling!
Shrieve Captain: 3...
Binro: Unstoffe, look -- Right, I was! Right, I was! GAK!
Shrieve Captain: 2...
Unstoffe: You're lucky he died happy, you murdering...almost-GAK!
Shrieve Captain: 1...
Graff Vynda-K: I'll take that mcguffinite, thank you, YOINK!
Catacombs: That's gonna leave a mark.
Graff Vynda-K: Sholakh, no! Without comic relief, I'm just a tragic figure!
Sholakh: Ha ha. GAK!
Professor Trelawney: He's dead, Vyn. GAK!
Graff Vynda-K: That's for the gratuitous Trek reference!
Garron and Unstoffe: Little help down here?
Romana: I suppose we'd better help them if we want to get the tracer back. Uuhh! Oh, I chipped a nail!
K-9: (sigh) 8.25 and rising. ZAPPP!
Graff Vynda-K: Well guard, all but one of us doomed to die, eh?
Guard (Doctor): Er...
Graff Vynda-K: Take this bomb into the catacombs, we're going to fulfill her prophesy!
Guard (Doctor): Um, let's not and say we did.
Graff Vynda-K: (walking away) At least I have this mcguffinite with which I can blow up...
Bomb: Blow up? Okay. BOOM!
Doctor: Thanks for maintaining my violence-free image, bomb! Phew, I can't breathe in this helmet!
Garron: Well Doctor, swapping the mcguffinite for that bomb certainly must have rocked the Graff's world!
Doctor: Indeed, you'd have to have rocks for brains not to notice!
Garron: Well Doctor, could you let me hold the mcguffinite one last time?
Doctor: Certainly Garron, you may let me hold the mcguffinite one last time. Well, good bye!
TARDIS: Vworp, vworp, vworp.
Unstoffe: Without the mcguffinite, how're we supposed to con people, eh wascally wabbit?
Garron: Using the Graff's ship, which we power with this mcguff... huh. Well, at least now I know what textual pickpocketing looks like.
(Garron starts planning a new con at Ludicrous Speed)
Previous fiver: The Hand of Fear
Next fiver: The Pirate Planet
Got a comment on this fiver? Contact the author, Curt Rozeboom.
Haven't seen the episode? The transcript will get you up to speed.
___ Five-Minute Doctor Who
___ ___ Fourth Doctor
___ ___ ___ Five-Minute "The Ribos Operation"
DISCLAIMER: A lot of stuff in here is copyrighted by the company that makes Doctor Who. We, the administration of Five-Minute Voyager, could not possibly have less of a clue who that is. Well, actually we do since SCMoll told us, but it's funnier this way.
All material © 2006, Curtis L. Rozeboom.