Disclaimers: See Part 1.
*****
EXT - QUIRM
The Dragon is asleep, curled in a leathery hill in the middle of the square. Presently she lifts her
head and sniffs the air in huge sinusfuls, and curls her lip. She doesn't like what she smells, and
growls.
INT- CONFERENCE ROOM
VIMES
Okay... assuming Carrot's right - and I don't have any reason to think he's not -
we'll need to get ready for the attack. And Quirm never struck me as a
particularly martial country.
PONDER STIBBONS
You might be surprised. The Quirmish are very creative when it comes to
defending their artistic creations. They just look... unusual.
VIMES
[cautious] How unusual are we talking?
PONDER STIBBONS
You'll see. But first...
[he turns to Persephone]
Persephone, can you sense anything?
PERSEPHONE
There are four squads of fighter ships approaching from the Widdershins direction.
I expect they'll be here in about an hour. We won't have much time to prepare the
troops.
Ponder considers this for a few stressful moments before coming to a decision:
PONDER STIBBONS
Okay, everybody who can fly a glider, raise your hand.
INT - STAR DESTROYER
The phone booth appears in a corridor, and most of the occupants burst out. The notable
exceptions are Death, and a rather queasy-looking Rincewind, who is wiping his mouth on his
sleeve.
RINCEWIND
Sorry about that... motion sickness.
PRESTON
Dude, that was totally bogus! We have to go home in that!
RINCEWIND
Look, I have a weak stomach, okay? I've never traveled through the fabric of time
and space in a phone booth before. And I tried to aim it away from everyone, but
with five people--
DEATH
AHEM.
RINCEWIND
Er, I'm not sure if you count.
DEATH
IS THAT WHY YOU VOMITED ON *MY* FEET?
Rincewind looks down and confirms that this is, in fact, what has happened.
RINCEWIND
Oops.
DEATH
YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT MY DRY CLEANING BILL
WILL BE LIKE. SHROUDS ARE VERY DELICATE. OF COURSE, I'M
JUST AN ANTHROPOMORPHIC PERSONIFICATION - NOBODY CARES
ABOUT *MY* FEELINGS.
LOGAN
Get off his case, Death-dude - he said he was sorry.
DEATH
OH, FINE. BUT I SHALL SEND HIM THE BILL.
Death manages to look sullen.
THE DOCTOR
If we've concluded here, perhaps we should set about finding my TARDIS.
Carrot nods.
CARROT
And don't forget the dragon egg.
PRESTON
I don't know if a dragon egg'll fit in here.
THE DOCTOR
It'll fit in the TARDIS, mark my words.
Carrot turns, sensing something
CARROT
Listen, I'll catch up with the rest of you later. Right now there's something I need
to do - something important I have to finish.
THE DOCTOR
Go on, then. I'm sure we'll do fine.
CARROT
Be sure to come get me when you're done. I might need help.
THE DOCTOR
Will do. One of the modifications I made to this booth is a universal tracking
device. Wherever you are, we'll find you.
CARROT
Okay. Thanks.
He hurries off.
PRESTON
I wonder where he's off to.
THE DOCTOR
He has some narrative causality to resolve.
RINCEWIND
How come I get all the annoying narrative causality?
DEATH
THINK OF IT THIS WAY. YOU'RE STILL ALIVE.
RINCEWIND
Not for lack of trying, apparently.
DEATH
OH, QUIT WHINING. I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF IT.
LOGAN
[raising his hand] Uh, question. What happens if the egg hatches before we get it
back to its mom?
RINCEWIND
[bearing an expression of second-hand foreboding] I really wish you hadn't said
anything...
LOGAN
Why not?
THE DOCTOR
I think he's concerned about narrative causality. Not to worry - that sort of thing
only happens in stories.
The Doctor withdraws a strange, futuristic gizmo from one pocket and a white paper bag from
the other. He offers the bag to Rincewind.
THE DOCTOR
Here - have a jellybaby. It'll help you relax.
RINCEWIND
I doubt that...
He takes one anyway - it looks like a gummi bear - and pops it in his mouth. The Doctor
manipulates a few controls on the gizmo, and it hums faintly, like a cricket who has forgotten the
words.
INT - FORBIDDEN CHAMBER
Close on the Death Egg as the hatchling within stirs, gently at first but then more energetically.
The shell cracks.
*****
End of Part 17.
*****
EXT - QUIRM
The Dragon is asleep, curled in a leathery hill in the middle of the square. Presently she lifts her
head and sniffs the air in huge sinusfuls, and curls her lip. She doesn't like what she smells, and
growls.
INT- CONFERENCE ROOM
VIMES
Okay... assuming Carrot's right - and I don't have any reason to think he's not -
we'll need to get ready for the attack. And Quirm never struck me as a
particularly martial country.
PONDER STIBBONS
You might be surprised. The Quirmish are very creative when it comes to
defending their artistic creations. They just look... unusual.
VIMES
[cautious] How unusual are we talking?
PONDER STIBBONS
You'll see. But first...
[he turns to Persephone]
Persephone, can you sense anything?
PERSEPHONE
There are four squads of fighter ships approaching from the Widdershins direction.
I expect they'll be here in about an hour. We won't have much time to prepare the
troops.
Ponder considers this for a few stressful moments before coming to a decision:
PONDER STIBBONS
Okay, everybody who can fly a glider, raise your hand.
INT - STAR DESTROYER
The phone booth appears in a corridor, and most of the occupants burst out. The notable
exceptions are Death, and a rather queasy-looking Rincewind, who is wiping his mouth on his
sleeve.
RINCEWIND
Sorry about that... motion sickness.
PRESTON
Dude, that was totally bogus! We have to go home in that!
RINCEWIND
Look, I have a weak stomach, okay? I've never traveled through the fabric of time
and space in a phone booth before. And I tried to aim it away from everyone, but
with five people--
DEATH
AHEM.
RINCEWIND
Er, I'm not sure if you count.
DEATH
IS THAT WHY YOU VOMITED ON *MY* FEET?
Rincewind looks down and confirms that this is, in fact, what has happened.
RINCEWIND
Oops.
DEATH
YOU OBVIOUSLY HAVE NO IDEA WHAT MY DRY CLEANING BILL
WILL BE LIKE. SHROUDS ARE VERY DELICATE. OF COURSE, I'M
JUST AN ANTHROPOMORPHIC PERSONIFICATION - NOBODY CARES
ABOUT *MY* FEELINGS.
LOGAN
Get off his case, Death-dude - he said he was sorry.
DEATH
OH, FINE. BUT I SHALL SEND HIM THE BILL.
Death manages to look sullen.
THE DOCTOR
If we've concluded here, perhaps we should set about finding my TARDIS.
Carrot nods.
CARROT
And don't forget the dragon egg.
PRESTON
I don't know if a dragon egg'll fit in here.
THE DOCTOR
It'll fit in the TARDIS, mark my words.
Carrot turns, sensing something
CARROT
Listen, I'll catch up with the rest of you later. Right now there's something I need
to do - something important I have to finish.
THE DOCTOR
Go on, then. I'm sure we'll do fine.
CARROT
Be sure to come get me when you're done. I might need help.
THE DOCTOR
Will do. One of the modifications I made to this booth is a universal tracking
device. Wherever you are, we'll find you.
CARROT
Okay. Thanks.
He hurries off.
PRESTON
I wonder where he's off to.
THE DOCTOR
He has some narrative causality to resolve.
RINCEWIND
How come I get all the annoying narrative causality?
DEATH
THINK OF IT THIS WAY. YOU'RE STILL ALIVE.
RINCEWIND
Not for lack of trying, apparently.
DEATH
OH, QUIT WHINING. I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH ANY OF IT.
LOGAN
[raising his hand] Uh, question. What happens if the egg hatches before we get it
back to its mom?
RINCEWIND
[bearing an expression of second-hand foreboding] I really wish you hadn't said
anything...
LOGAN
Why not?
THE DOCTOR
I think he's concerned about narrative causality. Not to worry - that sort of thing
only happens in stories.
The Doctor withdraws a strange, futuristic gizmo from one pocket and a white paper bag from
the other. He offers the bag to Rincewind.
THE DOCTOR
Here - have a jellybaby. It'll help you relax.
RINCEWIND
I doubt that...
He takes one anyway - it looks like a gummi bear - and pops it in his mouth. The Doctor
manipulates a few controls on the gizmo, and it hums faintly, like a cricket who has forgotten the
words.
INT - FORBIDDEN CHAMBER
Close on the Death Egg as the hatchling within stirs, gently at first but then more energetically.
The shell cracks.
*****
End of Part 17.