OK so let’s just take it as read that I am the new Doctor Who. Here’s the title card, which will show on the telly while a posh bloke says “And coming up next, Dr Who will kick the cocks off of some Go-Bots or something”. My mate who is a real Dr Who nerd says I have spelled Dr Who wrong. I couldn’t think of what to say back until three days later, so I phoned him up and said it was only concept art so fuck off.

I have written a new opening sequence. K-9 is flying around in space. There is a close-up on his ears, which spin around, and he says “DOCTOR, I HAVE DETECTED AN EPISODE IN THE SPACE-TIME CONTINUUM” and then I jump through a paper hoop and say “Let’s get ON IT!” I kick K-9 into the sun, then it’s the usual opening sequence only with me waving my arms around like I’m going dead fast. 

The music is Bob Marley’s Jammin’, but the last line of the chorus changed to “We hope you like Doctor Who”. My assistant, a sarcastic parrot with a monocle and the voice of Brian Sewell, squawks “Sure do!”, lands on my shoulder, and we jump into the Tardis.

(On the Dalek episode, the Daleks have a verse, too. They come in, singing “We are the Daleks, we love the disco sound” and I wag my finger at them and they say sorry)

So the action starts, and I’m on a NEVER BEFORE SEEN BEFORE new planet, where time is BACKWARDS. I shoot a monster in the face and a doctor (not me) appears and issues it a birth certificate. I actually say the word “WHURGH?” and the doctor says “I don’t know what planet you are from Mr Who but on this planet we issue birth certificates when people die and everyone smokes cigars”. He hands us both a party popper. My parrot shrugs and makes a “doi-yoi-yoing-g-g” sound that it learned off the telly. I decide to investigate.

Before long Ted Danson arrives, and tells me I have to get off his planet. I wrestle with him in a void dimension for twelve episodes, and everyone is astonished when it turns out he is full of Daleks and it was them all along, not Ted Danson. But THIS TIME, the Daleks have all got human noses because they thought perhaps it was the fact we could smell them coming that made us keep winning.

The Daleks say “I smelled YOU coming Dr Who, how do you like them apples” and I raise my eyebrows so far that they fly off, and tickle the Dalek’s noses. They all sneeze their plungers off, except for the supreme dalek, who I have to wrestle in a void dimension for a couple of episodes. Eventually I throw him into a wheelybin, rip his plunger off and stick it up my shirt like I have got a tit.

Then I regenerate SIX TIMES, which is a record for Most Regenerations In A Single Episode Of Doctor Who, and everyone is really pumped up. Then my parrot says “I’ve got cancer” and pretty much bums everyone out for the season finale. “Shit man, I just killed all the Daleks, why are you bumming everyone out,” I say, and the Parrot just dies. I spend two more episodes wrestling its dead body in a void dimension, then Kylie Minogue walks in and we make out, forgetting that in my latest incarnation I am a woman, which causes 30,001 complaints and the removal of BBC1 from the space-time airwaves.

THE END

(HEY RUSSELL T DAVIES IF YOU WANT ME TO WRITE AN EPISODE OF SARAH JANE ADVENTURES I’VE GOT AN AWESOME IDEA WHERE LUKE IS OLD ENOUGH TO DO GAY STUFF)

What is going on in the world where this kind of thing is made, and sold to children. How dare anyone do this. It is a disgrace. Also how is it that this photograph is clickable in six different places. I simply want no part in a world where this is allowed to happen. Even if it does take ages to load so that people just think it’s a big white space.

Please complain about this fucking thing to someone, thanks.

Hi, Jennifans! Jennifer Tolstoy here - Log’s ex-girlfriend, and the inventor of such words as FRAZY (fun and crazy), CRABULOUS (crazy and fabulous), and HUHNNNNGGGG (a sound I make when someone in the queue in front of me is taking too long, and won’t let me look over their shoulder).

I hold the world record for the number of times anyone has repeated the word “GO” in a military operation, when I tipped a bucket of worms into the sink on a drainpipe reconnaissance mission and shouted “GO GO GO” three hundred times. Beat that, Andy McNabb! BE MY FRIEND ON FACEBOOK

I’ve been in hiding since that fat Australian cunt bitch cow-tipping slut got my touching memorial video taken off the entire internet. I really appreciated your efforts to convince her I was in the right - which a few of you did by finding pictures of her, and putting fake willies flying into her massive, food-swollen piss Chunnel. This really helped me through the difficult times. :’)

Here is that video, for being such funtabulous Jennifans!

During my life time-out, my best friends phoned me every day. They thought I’d get bored, sitting still and moving as little as possible for a whole year. But only boring people get bored! Here is my top favourite five things to do when you refuse to leave the house because the world is a horrible place!

1. Try out innovative new sexy poses like the one you can see here (don’t look at it I’m so embarrassed haha)
2. Wait outside Log’s door in the morning with a wakey-wakey biscuit
3. Sometimes I get hungry and eat the biscuit
4. Which leaves me with no reason to stand outside his door, so I just burst in and start punching him through the duvet, saying “wakey-wakey” then saying “biscuit” because i’d been thinking it over and over again outside his door and now I can’t say “wakey-wakey” without saying “biscuit”
5. Living with Log is so much fun even though we’re not going out any more, we’re just like the best friends ever

This is me and my friends! Sandy is using a fake hand to touch my boobs. It’s lucky Sandy is my mega-best friend on toast, otherwise I would have span around with my arms out like a starfish.

This is OFFICIALLY how to respond to a sexual attack, and has been since 1986. After the Fonz told children to honk when they were getting their bodies touched by grown-ups, paedophiles quickly evolved to home in on groups of honking children. So then Cagney & Lacey had to do a video giving advice about what to do if you were cornered by a honk-proof nonce. I chose the starfish, but there were other things you could do!

1. Move your head up and down so they can’t work out where to kiss you.
2. Teleport to a location above your assailant, land on his head and guide him to a police station.
3. Form a sexless relationship with your abuser until you are old enough to consent to kissing with your mouth open.

Sandy says it’s not her real arm anyway, so it’s basically like that thing where you lie on your arm so it feels like someone else is touching your tits. I have to admit, it did feel like someone else was touching my tits.

These two guys are so gay. I am trying to look nonchalant, like I don’t care about it, but I’m also letting my silky hair land on the taller gay man’s arm. Let him know what he’s missing! I love gay men, they are so uninhibited! But then, I suppose you’d have to be inhibited to go near a big shitty bumhole. I don’t have a penis, but if I did, I would want to put it in something lovely, like a vase.

Log is gay, too - I was amazed when I found out, he never mentions it - and I think this is why we’re such great friends. Last night, I waited until he was really, really, asleep, and I crept into his bedroom, and tried to find bit that were sticking out of the duvet, that I could put into my mouth. When he woke, he just hid under the covers. He is so lame, sometimes, he doesn’t know how to have fun at all. But it’s all part of what makes our relationship so special - I’m the crazy one, he’s the one that keeps trying to put locks on his bedroom door, and stop me keeping my shoes in the fridge.

JENNIFER FOR PRESIDENT!

Tune in next week for part two of my creepy Halloween adventures - I meet Kelly off the Porky Beans video, get my eyeballs licked out, and meet the happiest Frankingstein in the world!