The Web Planet is coming out on DVD. It is the single weirdest, worst Doctor Who story ever - an incomprehensible mess of giant ants, hopping caterpillars, and Martin Jarvis playing a butterfly who thinks he's Hamlet. With vaseline smeared over the lens.
Lee and I sat down to watch it. One episode in, I brought out the two leftover painkillers from hospital last year. Rather lovely painkillers containing mostly opium and a lovely warm glow.
Now, I'm always a bit reticent around recreational pharmaceuticals. Thing is, you always know where you are with Vodka (unless you buy it from a street market in the Gorbals), but why trust your mental health to a stranger who hasn't discovered deoderant?
But these pills were, as I said, supplied by the hospital, to use whenever mind-bending pain occured. And, the Web Planet certainly qualified.
Within minutes, we'd stopped groaning as Ants fell over, and furry tea-trolley monsters crashed into walls. Instead, we just started to giggle contentedly. Soon, nothing could shake us... not even when the planet Vortis was invaded by a fleet of giant butterflies, all flapping their arms.... and, by the time the story ended with the entire cast on their knees, lapping at a puddle of water and cooing, well, we were just quiet.
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