Knightmare.com

... Russell T Davies, outgoing producer of Dr Who.

This is a nightmare - no pun intended - that I had the other night.

The first episode opens with Treguard announcing the quest season has resumed at long last, and he gives the timeless command, "Enter... stranger..."

To the familiar sound of the whistle-shriek of the portal, a dungeoneer materialises...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "That sound effect is out! It's not funny, it doesn't deliver. Go again."

"Enter... stranger..."

To the sound of a dragon breaking wind, the first dungeoneer of the new era materialises. At Treguard's bidding, the dungeoneer summons his team of advisors...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "We can't have this team, they're all boys and they're all white. We need a mixed race, mixed sex team, and preferably at least one of the team must be gay. Oh and the female team member must be madly in love with the dungeoneer. Go again."

At Treguard's bidding, the dungeoneer summons a team of people who've never met before. Even so, the girl on the team immediately fancies the pants off the dungeoneer. Treguard presents the dungeoneer with the Helmet of Justice...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "Don't get me wrong, I like that Helmet, I like it, it looks silly and that means it's funny, but it's not mechanical enough. Let's go again."

Treguard presents the dungeoneer with the Dalek-head of Justice and despatches him through the portal into the Dungeon of Deceit...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "A Dungeon? What do you mean a Dungeon? Get into the 21st Century, you can't set a modern TV programme in a Dungeon! No one in a typically-ignorant modern working class audience will be able to relate to that. Let's go again."

Treguard despatches the dungeoneer through the portal into the Poky-Living-Room-In-A-High-Rise-Block-Of-Flats -On-A-Shabby-Council-Estate of Deceit. The dungeoneer finds a lift and hurriedly makes his way outside.

Passing through the Council-run car park of Doom, the dungeoneer is confronted by the voiceless, towering menace of the catacombite...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "You can't have a voiceless enemy, because it can't make all sorts of hip 'n' trendy sounding pop culture jokes about how cool they are and how they rock, or any b*tchy remarks about how silly the dungeoneer looks in that helmet. Or indeed any puerile helmet gags. Oh and female team member? You haven't held the adventure up yet by mentioning superfluously what a wonderful thing it is to be travelling from adventure to adventure with the dungeoneer."

"Sorry!" squeaks the female team member. "Dungeoneer, it's soooooo cool travelling with you... I just loooooove travelling with you, dungeoneer..."

"Save it for when we're turning over, love," snaps the producer. "Let's go again."

The dungeoneer is confronted by the evil, corporate, corporately evil, corporation executive representing the evilness of the Very Evil Corporation Inc.

"Tee hee hee," declares the evil corporate executive representing the evil Corporation of evil, "I'm going to put an end to your quest now because I'm an evil Corporate executive from an evil board of executives for an evil Corporation, and I'm all evil and Corporate, and so is my evil Corporation, which is all evil and Corporate like all Corporations are. And I'll say the rest of my lines in an offensively bad American accent, because all Corporations are evil, especially the American ones."

"That's very good!" comments the producer. "Immensely subtle use of subtext there. Love it!"

The evil and Corporate man from the Corporate and evil Very Evil Corporation Inc kills the Dungeoneer and the quest ends there. Treguard tells the team that they failed because they didn't realise how evil and Corporate the evil Corporation was, because the clues were too subtle. He casts the DISMISS spell...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "You can't dismiss them yet! The female team member hasn't burst into tears at the death of the dungeoneer to amplify the sense of loss!"

The female team member says "WAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!" to amplify the sense of loss.

Treguard casts the DISMISS spell...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "You can't dismiss them yet. You haven't resurrected the dungeoneer as a paving slab and got him to tell everyone what a peaceful state of being it is, being a paving slab."

Treguard resurrects the dungeoneer as a paving slab. "Cor, how peaceful I feel being something that people walk on and wipe dog muck off their shoes onto," says the dungeoneer *.

Treguard casts...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "You can't dismiss them yet. We haven't had the dungeoneer's mum up the emotional stakes by doing a completely superfluous walk-on where she tells you how much she hates you for taking her son away from her."

The dungeoneer's mum walks in and shouts in a sarf London council estate accent, "Treguard!!! My son's dead cos of you!!! I HATE YOOOOUUUU!!!" The dungeoneer's mum walks out, and Hugo Myatt resigns.

"CUT!" cries producer. "You can't resign because..."

"Oh bog off!" says Hugo.


* At this point I resisted the temptation to take the mickey out of that very obvious bit of bad taste from a couple of years ago... but anyone who watched the hideous Dr Who story Love & Monsters will know damn well what I'm talking about.

Next up... George Lucas as producer of Knightmare. :o

Shame, I quite liked Love & Monsters

...Frank Miller, creator of Sin City and Batman: The Dark Knight Returns.

Slight change of plan here, but still...

Treguard, restored to the role of Dungeon Master after RTD's surprise dismissal, announces the start of another new quest season. "Enter... stranger..." he commands. The dungeoneer materialises and declares his ambition to attain knighthood...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "That's no good, cos it ain't a real-world ambition. Your ambition needs to be more personal than that! You need an ambition that emphasises your inner turmoil and the demons that you face. All the cruel injustices you have faced since your early childhood. Your quest should be for enlightenment! It should be for justice! It should be for... vengeance!"

"Vengeance for what?" asks the dungeoneer.

"For the horrible barbarity of your parents' death when you were ten of course!"

"But my parents are both alive and well and living in Piddletrenthide..."

"Let's go again!"

The dungeoneer declares his ambition to seek out the criminal filth who murdered his parents when he was just ten i.e. less than two years ago.

"You may seek one of four quest objects," announces Treguard, "the Cup... the Shield... the Sword... or the Crown..."

"CUT!" cries the producer. "You can't have Crowns, they're a sign of Royalist decadence and privilege, and the Sword... is... out. A weapon like that? It's practically a gun. Let's go again."

"You may seek one of four quest objects," announces Treguard, "the Cup... the Saucer... the Whisk... and the Straw Hat..."

"I choose the Cup," decides the dungeoneer.

The dungeoneer places the Helmet of Justice on his head...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "Oh come ooooooooooon! You can't fight crime when you can't even see! Let's go again!"

The dungeoneer dons the Face-hugging-Cowl-With-The- Tinted-Reflective-Material-Over-The-Eyes of Justice, then steps through the portal into the Dungeon of Deceit.

"CUT!" cries the producer. "No, a dungeon just don't have the right tension. What we need are some litter-strewn, rat-infested, badly-lit city streets, late at night, with homeless people on every corner, hookers hanging by the roadside, and a pickpocket hiding in every alleyway!"

The dungeoneer steps through the portal into the Alleyway of Overloaded Dustbins. He finds a bottle of strong-smelling liquid here, which he takes. In the next alley, he is ambushed by cavernwights. The dungeoneer opens the bottle and puts it on the floor, and the wights are lured towards it...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "What kind of a puny liberal are you, kid? Putting bottles on the floor and running away? You wimp! This is life on the streets, wet-pants, this is war! This is a world where the cowards are found out, and the strong make a stand! You need to make a stand, boy, a stand! Stand up and be counted, man!!!! Kick those cavernwight *sses, man, kick 'em and huuuuuurt 'em! Don't just beat 'em, cripple 'em!!! Do the kung-fu, do the karate. You got the moves, baby, do them!!!"

The dungeoneer is ambushed by cavernwights, but adopts a defensive stance, than leaps upwards and knocks two aside with perfectly-executed whirlwind kicks, hammer-chops a third under the jaw with a great cry of "Haaaaaiiiii-ah!", and then a swift burst of punches takes out the last one.

In the next alley, the dungeoneer is set a puzzle by a wall monster...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "Wall monster? Wall monster? Well hey, that's scary. 'Look out, there's a wall over there! Oh how are we ever gonna get out of this? Oh I dunno, how about we try walking real slow in the other direction and see if it can out-run us?' Come on!!!" Make it a crowd of pickpockets armed with switchblades. And get rid of this riddle sh*t, man, we need some more plotless violence! Let's go again."

Thirteen alleys later, the dungeoneer, his legs aching wearily from all the high kicks he's had to do over the last few hours, lumbers onto a busy street and finds the evil technosorcerer, Lord Fear, standing there...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "'Technosorcerer'? Is that the best you guys can think of? A guy with...." Mock gasp, "...gadgets? Make him a serial killer and a pervert paedophile who hangs around outside schoolgates disguised as a lollipop man and cuts off little children's fingers and eats them!!!"

"But I do that anyway," protests Lord Fear.

"Let's go again."

Hugo Myatt resigns.

"CUT!" cries the producer. "Why are you resigning? We're making hard-hitting drama with astute social-commentary and gritty realism with..."

"Oh bog off!" says Hugo.

EDIT: It was Sin City I meant, not Spawn.

"But I do that anyway," protests Lord Fear.

That gave me a good laugh.

... George Lucas, creator of Star Wars.

Well, I did promise.

Treguard, having been restored to the Dungeon Master role once more after another rather sudden dismissal of producer, bids the next dungeoneer to arrive. "Enter... stranger..."

A dungeoneer materialises, stating that he challenges the Dungeon.

"CUT!" cries the producer. "We need you to be more mysterious than that. The future is always in motion, so you won't know what lies beyond that door. Let's go again."

A dungeoneer materialises, stating that he challenges... whatever. Treguard explains the rules of the Dungeon...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "Try and sound more long-winded and use much bigger words that are really difficult to pronounce."

Treguard takes about twenty-eight minutes to explain the rules of the Dungeon. He then presents the dungeoneer with the Helmet of Justice. He pauses and looks over at the producer. "Aren't you going to say, 'Cut!' and tell me why the Helmet's no use?"

"No," says the producer, "I like it. With the blast shield down he can't even see."

Treguard looks pleasantly surprised, and bids the dungeoneer summon his advisors, who materialise in the seats. "From now on," says Treguard, "your friends are your eyes..."

"CUT!" cries the producer. "A warrior needs no advisors, all he need do is to reach out with his feelings. Let's go again."

Treguard dismisses the advisors and instructs the dungeoneer that his eyes can deceive him and should not be trusted. "From now on, reach out with your feelings... yada yada..."

Treguard leads the dungeoneer to the portal, commanding him to "Step boldly forward..."

"CUT!"

"Oh for ****'s sake, what now?!" fumes Treguard.

"You forget to express the wish that the Force should be with him," explains the producer. "Let's go again."

Treguard tells the dungeoneer, "May the Force be with you."

The Dungeoneer steps through the portal into the Dungeon of Deceit.

"CUT!"

Treguard forces back the tears and asks, "Whaaaaaaaattt...?"

"Ah I dunno," mutters the producer. "A Dungeon. I mean it ain't bad but... I can't help thinking that some kind of ancient ruined temple in South America or the sub-continent would be better. Let's go again."

The dungeoneer steps through the portal into the Ancient Ruined Temple of Stereotype Latin American Evil. Arriving in a clue room, the dungeoneer is questioned by a wall monster. He answers two of the three riddles correctly...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "Er, wall monster, could you try to sound a bit more English. More upper class, because that sounds evil. Oh and kid? Dungeon-thinger? Could you answer the questions in an American accent please? You can't be a good guy if you sound English. Let's go again."

"Ah reckon," drawls the dungeoneer, "the li'l ole answer is sev-eeeen!"

"One ascertains with full acceptance that your statement contains truth..." pronounces the wall monster.

In the next chamber, the dungeoneer finds Merlin, dressed in magnificent multi-coloured robes...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "Merlin's too tall. He's too hairy and his ears ain't pointy enough. Let's go again."

In the next chamber, the dungeoneer finds Merlin, double-bent, dressedin brown hessian rags and wearing a pair of Mr Spock false ears. "Well, young dungeoneer, you've done exceedingly well to get this far..."

"CUT!" cries the producer. "You don't sound arcane or mysterious enough. Try jumbling up your words a bit. Oh and sound a lot more throaty and American. Let's go again."

"Well, young dungeoneer," yokels Merlin, "exceedingly well have you done, to get this far. A spell I have for you. FLIGHT is it called. Cast it you do, by the letters spelling out. In the right order must they be..."

"CUT!" cries the producer. "That's just nonsense. Powers like these don't come from the throat. They come... from within. All the dungeoneer needs to do is find a calm, steady centre, and to believe the effects of the spell are happening. And then they'll happen. Let's go again."

In the next chamber, the dungeoneer finds a bridge that has fallen in. He pictures himself floating through the air to the other side and it happens.

In the next chamber, the dungeoneer finds Mogdred casting evil spells...

"CUT!" cries the producer. "Mogdred sounds like he's no fun, and too subtle for a political parody of Margaret Thatcher. Instead let's have George W Bush as represented by... errrrm, by George W Bush in fact, but talking in an English accent. Let's go again."

In the next chamber, the dungeoneer finds George W Bush threatening a lot of other countries and ranting in the Queen's English about how if they're not with one then they're against one.

Hugo Myatt resigns.

"CUT!" cries the producer. "Why are you resigning? I haven't even got round to introducing a really annoying superfluous comic relief character for everyone to..."

"OH BOG O-O-O-O-O-O-O-O-FF!!!!!" roars Hugo.

delightfully satirical. the paving stone episode was a terrible, terrible low point in that tv show.
As for changing the helmet and putting in bad comedy and crude social parody - Knightmare actually did do all those things. A good thing about Knightmare was that in fact there was a mixture of genders and ethnicity among its fresh faced fan base.

"CUT!" cries the producer. "That's just nonsense. Powers like these don't come from the throat. They come... from within. All the dungeoneer needs to do is find a calm, steady centre, and to believe the effects of the spell are happening. And then they'll happen. Let's go again."

Didn't that happen a couple of times in series four?