The blue box time machine rocked with avengance as Captain Morse pulled on the nearest blue lever- simply because he happened to like that colour. Charpa, grabbing another machete she'd concealed in more fishnets, approached the door slowly and prepared to open it with a flourish.
Until Skoob dashed forward, kicked the door open and hurled up over a patch of blue grass.
"So much for elegance," Maj-Gen Jaggedone muttered as they emerged into the Fourth Circle of Hell unknowingly.
"How the fook did we get from Lancaster to here, some alien planet?" Captain Morse bellowed to First Mate Birbee, who was removing his pirate's hat.
"Shit, we're in Wales!" Jean La Fete said as he emerged from the TARDIS, making sure to avoid the pile of sick Skoob had left.
Jean rose his hand to his eyes to avoid the glare of the sun and examine his surroundings. There was an ancient city made of rock in the distance. Half farmer-sheep hybrids wandered by: the farmers stuck to the hip of the sheep. Weird looking creatures were playing harps. A lonely farmer-sheep hybrid approached the band of lost Spoofers and baa-ed.
"Excuse me sir, can you tell us the way to Lancaster?" Iain asked.
"Fookin shit thing. Fort the TARDIS translated bloody foreign languages," Morse muttered, reaching for a pistol.
"I got this. Isnit boyo? Yacky da? Blwdi brilliant!" Skoob cried happily to the confusion of the rest of the Spoofers.
Jean stood, paying attention to all those triggers. A small army of Spoofers assembled on a hillside in a weird country. They had the Oracle of Spoofs, and now they needed to get revenge on Mark Lowton.
And yet, something was wrong. Wronger than his attempt to sing Frank Sinatra at the local Karaoke club.
"Hang on, hang on. Masterchev, tell me. What the hell is going on?"
The young man fell forward in a heap on the floor, collapsing unconscious. EQ stood over him, cackling insanely.
"How the fuck did nobody notice he was on the TARDIS too? He's been evil all along guys!" the Blessed Oracle screeched. The Spoofers reached for their weapons as EQ began to retreat. Three syllables emerged from the mouth of the young Welsh writer.
"The Nightmare Man"
"I've read about you!" Charpa whispered in disbelief. "He takes the memories of other Spoofers and creates whole universes. We're trapped in a Welsh nightmare!"
Skoob took a determined step forward, cracking his knuckles as he examined the warped man before him.
"What the hell have you done to my mate, isnit?"
"Merely unconscious. Thou'st shalt regret leaving me unchecked. Happy roaming," EQ cackled, then darted into the TARDIS. The door locked as Maj-Gen Jaggedone dashed forward to try and prevent it.
The TARDIS slowly began to dematerialise, leaving the Spoofers stood over the motionless figure on the floor.
"Surely there's a way out. There's always a way out," Charpa said dejectedly. "What the hell do we do now"