ANDY: Don’t fall, Andy. Don’t fall. Oh, God. It’s really, really high up.
(A creature smashes a wall)
NORTON: Look out! Don’t let it touch you. Keep out of the way.
ANDY: There’s not really anywhere for me to go. Help.
NORTON: Try not to fall off.
ANDY: Really?
NORTON: My word, that is a biggun. Coo!
ANDY: Norton, do you ever say anything helpful? I’m telling you now, this really isn’t the day I had planned.
NORTON: That’s Torchwood for you. Nothing ever goes to plan.
ANDY: If you weren’t a ghost, I, ohhh, I would kill you right now.
(Andy falls and screams)
(Opening theme)
ANDY: I suppose what I’m really trying to say is that, well, I see you in here every day and, I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you’re really really good looking. Too much. No, that’s a bit too much. Stalky. Stalkery. Stalky? Anyway. I think you look really interesting. Interesting? No, that’s not right. You look nice. Lovely? You look nice. Oh, God, you’re there now. The usual table. Are you watching me? Don’t look. Can you see me talking to myself? Oh, God, God. Right, there’s nothing for it. Today. Today, I am gonna go over there and talk to you. I’ve put it on a calender, so I’m gonna talk to you. That is the day that I have got planned. Right, now.
(Andy gets up out of his chair)
NORTON: Good morning. Mind if I join you?
ANDY: What? Yes, actually, I’m a bit busy.
NORTON: Talking to yourself, getting ready to ask that girl out? Oh, she’s nice but don’t tell her she looks nice. Girls hate that. Actually, everyone hates the word nice. Doesn’t mean a thing.
ANDY: Well, what word should I use?
NORTON: Well- no, actually, leave the girl ‘til tomorrow. This is important.
ANDY: What is? Who are you?
NORTON: Sergeant Davidson?
ANDY: Andy. Please, my friends call me Andy.
NORTON: And what do people who don’t like you call you?
ANDY: Well, Andy.
NORTON: Thought so. I’m Norton Folgate, Torchwood assessor. Here’s my card.
ANDY: Torchwood has business cards?
NORTON: They did in my day.
ANDY: Eh?
NORTON: I’ve been appointed to see if you’re ready to join the new Torchwood.
ANDY: What? Gwen has finally decided to let me in? Amazing. Right, I’m gonna call her right now-
NORTON: Ah, no. Today you’re going off grid. This is a day all about you. I’ve been sent here to assess you. I’ve come all the way from 1953, so you may have to fill in a few gaps.
ANDY: 1953?
NORTON: Well, that’s just how we do it sometimes. Guarantees impartiality. Also it means I can’t interfere. I’m, well- watch me pick up that teaspoon.
ANDY: Oh my God, you’re a ghost.
NORTON: 2016, yes? You have holograms and nanoprinters, don’t you?
ANDY: Yeah, but-
NORTON: And ‘a ghost,’ he says. Open mind, Sergeant. Now then, ready?
ANDY: Uhhh, oh, actually, I quite fancy the loo, can I just-
NORTON: Tough. Test due to start in, oh, now.
(There is the squealing of tires as a crash happens outside)
ANDY: Oh, my God.
NORTON: Sergeant Andy Davidson, we are on.
(They step out of the cafe and hear car alarms)
ANDY: Right, I’ve called this in. Uh, just to the police.
NORTON: Sensible.
ANDY: Right, everybody back. Okay, everybody back. Emergency services are on their way, but for now, it’s me. Okay, so get back, please.
WOMAN: Oi! You need to do something about that noise.
ANDY: Ma’am, you need to keep quiet and listen to me. Tell you what, get everyone out the way, right. Thank you. Right now, you, uh, beanie hat, find out who’s injured. Lovely. Right, now where’s the driver? He okay?
MAN: He ran off.
ANDY: So he’s fine then, great. Uh, Big Issue, mate, can you have a look at what’s coming out the back of the lorry, please?
BIG ISSUE SELLER: It’s green!
ANDY: Right, fair enough. Chemical spill.
(Norton clears his throat)
ANDY: Not now. Working mother, you keep everyone back. Beanie hat, you get the injured out of the way. Big Issue, stop anyone stepping in that… stuff.
WOMAN: What about my shopping? Can I go and get my shopping out the way?
ANDY: No.
WOMAN: Listen, not being funny, who do you think you are?
(There is the sound of something being dissolved)
WOMAN: Oh.
ANDY: Ah, that chemical spill’s dissolved your shopping.
WOMAN: But there were tins.
ANDY: Yeah.
WOMAN: That was steak. 50p a tin. I got the last, I did. Where am I gonna get more? The council should do something.
NORTON: Tame that shrew, there’s a poppet. This is about to get fun. I’m trying to tell you, look at the spill.
ANDY: Are those tentacles?
NORTON: Oh, I should say so.
ANDY: Everyone, the getting back. Really get back. Right, so, uhm, Norton, what do I do?
NORTON: Your test. I’m just giving you marks.
ANDY: Just so you know, I failed three driving tests. That’s lovely, stay nice and back, well done! Uh, emergency services are on their way.
(The crowd all say together:)
CROWD: Yeah, but what about Torchwood?
ANDY: Yeah, yeah. What about them? Can I ring Gwen now, please?
NORTON: Mmm-mmm.
ANDY: Hey, whoa! Hey you, keep back. This isn’t a shortcut, you idiot. Can someone stop-
(The man steps in the liquid and screams as he is dissolved)
ANDY: Oh, my God.
(The crowd start yelling)
ANDY: Crikey.
NORTON: I think it ate him. You lose points for that.
ANDY: Jeepers, how can you-
(The liquid growls)
NORTON: And now it appears to be growing more of him.
ANDY: Right, you stay here.
(Andy heads back into the cafe)
NORTON: Don’t panic everyone, Andy’s gone to get a bacon roll.
(Andy comes out of the cafe and sprays the liquid clones with a fire extinguisher. It groans in pain)
ANDY: Everyone. Right, listen. Shops, pubs, whatever, get fire extinguishers. Citizens arrest them, police order. Go go go, come on.
NORTON: What’s a police order?
ANDY: I don’t care, it’s working.
NORTON: What- what are you doing, by the way?
ANDY: GCSE Science, it breathes oxygen, right? Fire extinguishers starve a fire of oxygen. That thing is now snot. Dead snot.
(The crowd clap Andy)
NORTON: Very impressive. One question, what’s a GCSE?
ANDY: Waste of time and a Playstation from my mum. Well done, you lot. And here come the blues and toos, lovely.
NORTON: I’m going to have a look at that lorry.
ANDY: Woah woah, what about the chemical spill?
NORTON: Ghost, remember.
(Andy and Norton are on the bus - there is the sound of music and screaming children)
ANDY: As I said, the car’s in for repair today.
NORTON: No no, I love public transport.
ANDY: Quick question, can other people see you?
NORTON: Yes.
ANDY: Oh, good. Just, you know, I don’t wanna be that guy talking to thin air on the bus.
NORTON: No one wants to be that guy.
ANDY: So, right, the game is afoot. Now, I fed the name you got off that rig-
NORTON: Glenn Star Developments
ANDY: Mhm, into Google- oh, it’s a search engine on my phone. A search engine is a, well, we use it to look up very important information.
(Andy types into his phone)
ANDY: See?
NORTON: Gosh, very impressive. Can I see? Goodness me, you do like a Chinese restaurant.
ANDY: Well, that’s the beauty of the modern era. You can look up any piece of information on your smartphone. We call it a smartphone because it’s, well, it’s a phone.
NORTON: And it’s smart. Got it.
ANDY: I bet you wish you had one of these in the 1950s. Anyone in the world can talk to you or send you an electronic text message.
NORTON: Like that person who just sent you a picture of a winky face, an aubergine and a shocked monkey. Truly, I am stunned.
ANDY: It’s code. Now, in my maps app I can have a real-time view of where our journey is, that dot there, that’s where we’re going.
NORTON: On a lovely bus. Has someone just been sick?
ANDY: And as you can see, oh, OH, blimey, push the button. We should’ve got off at the last stop.
NORTON: I’m intangible, remember, darling. I no touchy thingies. Which, on this bus, is a bloody blessing.
(Andy presses the button and the bus stops)
NORTON: You’ll catch your death, have you not got an umbrella?
ANDY: I’m Welsh, we don’t need them. Also, they last about, like, an hour in this weather. What about you?
NORTON: Oh, the rain’s passing right through me. Peculiar.
ANDY: Back in 1953, you do, uhm, you do have a body, don’t you?
NORTON: Yes. And it’s amazing. I’m simply here through soft-light pharadyne projection. Ensures I can’t get hurt. Can’t interfere.
ANDY: So, what was it like? Working for Torchwood? I’ve asked Gwen about it and I’ve been involved, obviously, but it-it’s complicated.
NORTON: In my era, it’s pretty grubby if we’re going to be fair. We’ve just had a war so there’s a lot of black market trading in alien artefacts. Loads of UFOs got shot down in the war. But more often that not we just get called out to unexploded bombs. Most of the cases we get: shady. Soho louts who’ve seen too many movies and now they’ve got ray guns.
ANDY: Oh, I dunno, you make it sound quite exciting.
NORTON: Nope. Had a bloke last week, Piano Joe, left a Bandril where his eldest could get hold of it.
ANDY: Oh.
NORTON: Looked just like a toy pop gun. The eight-year-old shot his mum, his sisters and his baby brother. Laughing all the time. Zap zap zap zap. They just vanished. When Piano Joe got home, the kid asked his dad to ‘bring them back now.’
ANDY: Ah, sugar.
NORTON: ‘Oh, sugar.’ Yes, what’s that about?
ANDY: Oh, we had a course. Apparently swearing’s unprofessional and can also infringe the human rights and dignity of suspects when we arrest them. It’s easy when you get the hang of it and actually I quite like it. It gives me a sophisticated, sort of old-fashioned tone.
NORTON: Blimey, you poor bugger. Anyway, here we are. Glenn Star Developments, luxury executive flats. Forgive me, but it’s a falling down warehouse.
ANDY: Yeah, we’ve a lot of that round here.
NORTON: Looks like a bomb’s hit it and, believe me, I know what that looks like.
ANDY: Well, you had the war, we had the recession. You lot pulled together and saved the world. We, well, we blamed each other and let the villains get away with it. Cardiff got blasted pretty bad. 8 years ago you couldn’t move for cranes down the Bay. Now it’s mostly abandoned building sites like this.
NORTON: Hmm. ‘Keep out, 24 hour guard.’
ANDY: Yeah, about that.
NORTON: It’s still locked, though.
(Andy opens the gate)
ANDY: Well, the lorry driver left his keys in the ignition. Do I get points?
NORTON: You do get points.
ANDY: Result.
NORTON: Comprehension exercise, what are you thinking?
ANDY: Uh, about what? Tea tonight or this case?
NORTON: Looking for a working hypothesis from you.
ANDY: Okay, my guess is that the developer left this place unoccupied for a few years, property market’s crawling back on its feet, so they came back and found some alien goop had fallen through the Rift and ended up here. They tried shifting it out.
NORTON: With hilarious consequences.
ANDY: Also, I’m having sausages for tea tonight.
NORTON: Good work. On both counts.
ANDY: Thanks. Another thing about my phone is this. Torch setting. Get that.
NORTON: Normally just use my torch. .
ANDY: But look, green goop on the ground.
(Andy smells it)
ANDY: I think it’s safe.
NORTON: Careful.
ANDY: My betting is, it slopped while they were loading it. Diluted to death by the rain, kinda like anti-homoeopathy. So, do we phone Gwen now?
NORTON: Nope. Butch up, cowboy.
ANDY: Okay, but if I get eaten, she will be massively cross with you. Like, livid.
NORTON: Cooie! Anyone home? Put the kettle on, there’s a love.
ANDY: Shhhhhh, honestly. Do you not do stealth?
NORTON: Uhm, no.
ANDY: Well, since you’ve blown the element of surprise, I’m gonna test something.
NORTON: Be my guest.
(Andy flicks a switch and the lights turn on)
ANDY: Right. So, they’ve paid the power bill. Means we’re not traipsing around like Mulder and Scully.
NORTON: Who?
ANDY: Uhhh, variety acts. Also, this place has got my great detective’s nose a-twitching. If there’s power, what else are they using it for?
NORTON: Excellent thinking.
ANDY: Now, once this has finished, this will be the luxury reception area leading up to a variety of exclusive, executive-style apartments.
NORTON: Executive-style?
ANDY: Yeah, homes for well-paid managers. One tiny problem, slight lack of those jobs in Cardiff these days. Hence this building being abandoned. Would you mind going up these steps ahead of me? Incase it’s not safe. Is that cheating?
NORTON: No. What have you stopped for?
ANDY: Rats.
NORTON: Seriously? You get used to them picking through bays water bombsites.
ANDY: No no no, listen. There are dead rats on the stairs. You’re standing sort of in one. It’s in your foot, look.
NORTON: Eugh.
ANDY: But here’s the thing, mutant rats. Look, yours has got three heads.
NORTON: Ahh, so it does. Charming.
ANDY: That goop. Suppose it got splashed as they carried it out and the rats wandered into it. We saw it try to copy that man it ate.
NORTON: So, your theory is alien mimicy soup?
ANDY: Yes. Yes, it is. Does that fit with anything you know?
NORTON: Not immediately, but interesting.
(They continue walking)
NORTON: Blimey o’Riley. Vats.
ANDY: Vats. Let me guess, vats are never good.
NORTON: Never.
(There is a distant bang that echoes through the warehouse)
ANDY: Did you-
NORTON: Yes, I heard that. Rats, vats and a monster. What a blast! Good luck with that.
ANDY: Vats, check. No sign of a monster.
NORTON: You’ll know. When it lands on you.
ANDY: What? Is it on the ceiling?
NORTON: How should I know? Always be prepared, that’s our motto.
ANDY: Isn’t that the Boy Scouts?
NORTON: Same difference. Now, monster or vats?
ANDY: Daddy or chips? Let’s see what’s gonna try and kill me.
(Andy opens up a door of a vat and it smashes(?))
NORTON: Oh, very good. Chasing it out into the open, lovely. You’re like a ninja.
ANDY: Do you know what, there’s nothing in here. So, what are the vats then?
NORTON: You tell me. I am, you know, marking you.
ANDY: Okay okay, uh, green goo that mimics things. Vats. Yep, also full of goo. Also, worryingly coffin shaped.
NORTON: I like the worryingly. Notice the pattern, arranged in a circle.
ANDY: Yeah yeah, like a bicycle wheel made out of coffins. I’m going out on a limb, people photocopier. Oh, wait, did you have thos-
NORTON: Yes, we had photocopiers and yes, full mark.
ANDY: Okay, so, thinking aloud here.
NORTON: Just note, don’t get carried away.
ANDY: I can’t think why you would do this. But, this place makes bodies.
NORTON: Oh, that’s dolly.
ANDY: But, I don’t think this setup is working right. There’s something wrong with the goo, am I right? (Andy opens up another vat)
ANDY: And, this one’s empty.
NORTON: Not saying, my lips are sealed. Shtum.
ANDY: Empty.
NORTON: Like your head, sweetheart.
ANDY: Empty. As in, it’s already been used to make something.
(The creature roars)
ANDY: That!
NORTON: Full marks.
ANDY: What the hell is that?
NORTON: Nope, next question.
ANDY: What do we do about it?
NORTON: Again, not right now.
ANDY: How do I get away from it?
NORTON: Bingo.
ANDY: It’s blocking the door, it’s massive. And I am not jumping through the window.
NORTON: Okay, you’re doing quite well.
ANDY: Rising panic, actually.
NORTON: Sort of spotted that.
ANDY: Oh, f-udge. It’s huge and VERY angry. H-i there, love. Hey hey hey, I know you’ve had a rough night out, your boyfriend does love you.
NORTON: What the hell are you doing?
ANDY: Standard routine on St Mary’s Street, 3am Sunday morning. If it calms down a Valley girl, it’ll work on that f-udging nightmare. Yeah, he really does love you. And your best friend’s sorry for what she said, aren’t you? Come on.
NORTON: Yah, your hair’s great!
ANDY: Yeah yeah.
(The creature growls)
ANDY: No, okay, why don’t you have a lovely sit down and finish your ‘bab and we’ll see if we can get a taxi to take you ho-
(The creature roars)
ANDY: Oh, God! Oh, crikey, Norton. Distract it, can you?
NORTON: How many times, I’m intangible, you nitwit.
ANDY: It doesn’t know that! Distract it, I need to- to think.
NORTON: Hey, you big fat poofer! Ain’t you a bit large to be trolling on those lallies? Too much? I’ve got a plan.
ANDY: Oh, lovely.
NORTON: You won’t like it.
ANDY: I didn’t think I would.
NORTON: How’d you find that get up? And how much change did you get from a tenner? Oh, good GOD, it’s trying to eat me. That is disgusting! Right then, Sergeant Andy, get in that vat.
ANDY: Which vat?
NORTON: Any vat and chop chop, spit-spot, it’s coming for you.
ANDY: Oh, crikey.
NORTON: Get in!
(Andy gets in a vat and shuts the door)
ANDY: Oh, God. Okay. Okay. Okay okay okay okay, Andy Davidson, we are fine.
NORTON: Cooey! I led it away. The monster’s gone next door. Ha! Never got to say that before.
ANDY: Lovely.
NORTON: When you put life into a sentence and it sounds weird, be suspicious. Anywho, you can probably come out now.
ANDY: Right then.
(Andy pushes at the door and it doesn’t open)
ANDY: Oh. Oh, bums.
NORTON: Come on, get a move on.
ANDY: There-there’s no lever on this side.
NORTON: You’re kidding. You idiot!
ANDY: Well, this was your idea. Look, I give in. Get me out.
NORTON: No can do, squire
ANDY: Look, it’s fine, alright. I failed the test, I never expected to pass, just-just get me out, please.
NORTON: How many times, I can’t touch things.
ANDY: Oh. Oh, right. Oh, sugar.
NORTON: Have you had a really good look round?
ANDY: No, it’s really dark in here.
NORTON: Then use your torch thing.
ANDY: Sure. My phone! Gwen! Oh, dammit. No signal.
NORTON: Thought you said you could phone anyone on the planet, any time?
ANDY: I hate you so much right now. Still, I can see at least. Yep, uh-huh, just to confirm, no lever. Oh, help.
NORTON: Hey, good news!
ANDY: What?
NORTON: I can stick my head through the wall.
ANDY: Ah! God.
NORTON: Well, how about that? Oh, cosy in here.
ANDY: And?
NORTON: That’s it.
ANDY: Hang on. Is-is this thing airtight?
NORTON: Seems so. The pipes are sealed and, given what’s in them, you wouldn’t want them unsealed.
ANDY: Airtight. Airtight.
NORTON: Oh. See what you mean.
ANDY: HELP! HELP! HELP!
NORTON: Not wanting to be delores dullful at this point, but you’re in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of nowhere, probably not going to attract a passing dog walker. Calmer now?
ANDY: System. I need a system. Shouting uses up air. Banging on the lid makes noise, but it might bring that thing back.
NORTON: Excellent thinking.
ANDY: Are you still marking me now?
NORTON: Actually, I’m genuinely impressed.
ANDY: Cheers. I need to think.
NORTON: Leave it for a moment. It’ll come to you. Plenty of time.
ANDY: Really?
NORTON: Hours! Anyway, if no one’s passing now, maybe they will be in a bit. Why do you want to join Torchwood?
ANDY: What?
NORTON: I’ve got to ask you at some point, may as well do it now.
ANDY: Right. Uhm, well, I-I believe I’ve got a lot to offer. A team player, goal-oriented and objective-focused and, uhm… oh, because I-I thought it would be fun. It’s been almost ten years, you know. Ten years since Gwen- since she joined. Ten years wondering what’s so special about her. I mean, I know, I know she’s special, she’s amazing, but, still. Ten years of wondering. I mean, our test scores, pretty even. Appraisals, all fine. And I’m good with people and popular and… ten years of wondering why it wasn’t me.
NORTON: Did you want it to be?
ANDY: Are you kidding? She’s a bloody superhero, she’s saved the world, she’s fought aliens and she is brilliant. And I want that. I just want to matter. And I’m not brilliant, I’m…
NORTON: Nice.
ANDY: Yeah, nice. I’m also trapped in a coffin. Still, could be worse.
NORTON: No, never say that.
(There is a ding and then a robotic voice)
NORTON: Back in a jiff.
(The voice starts again and the sound of machinery)
NORTON: Oh dear.
ANDY: What?
NORTON: Good news! Really good news! You’re not going to suffocate.
ANDY: Brilliant.
NORTON: The machinery’s starting up.
ANDY: What?
NORTON: And you’re going to drown in acid.
ANDY: My hearing is really good, you know.
NORTON: Sorry. What the hell does all this do? I-I’m just so UGH. No, nope not even dial. Of course, I can’t touch a thing.
(The machinery and the robotic voice start again)
ANDY: Oh, God. It’s starting, isn’t it? I don’t wanna die alone. Get here!
(Norton pokes his head through the vat)
NORTON: Hey, sailor. What’s up?
ANDY: Look at it. The whole vat’s lit up, it’s pulsing. It’s getting ready, isn’t it?
NORTON: Yes. I’m just… you’re doing really well.
ANDY: Don’t lie. I’m about to die. I really really screwed up.
NORTON: So have I. Believe me, the paperwork’s going to be horrid.
ANDY: HELP! SOMEONE HELP ME! HELP ME! HELP!! This is it.
NORTON: Yes.
(A machine whirs up)
NORTON: Andy, Andy, it’s okay, it’s not the acid, not yet. It’s just… a probe, I think. That’s good.
(The probe stabs/drills Andy)
NORTON: That’s not good.
(Andy screams out in pain)
ANDY: Oh, God! I’d like the acid now, please.
NORTON: Oh, Andy. I’m really sorry. What a bloody balls up.
ANDY: Yeah.
NORTON: Now the pipes are opening. Sorry.
(A liquid begins flooding into the vat and onto Andy)
NORTON: Andy. Andy, it’s clear. It’s clear! The goo is clear! Calm down, the goo is clear. It’s not acid. It’s not acid! What the hell is going on here? Two types of goo, two types. And the drill. Oh!
(Andy is groaning as he is drowning in the goo)
NORTON: Andy, shut up. Shut up! Good news, relax. You’re going to be fine.
(Andy’s muffled screams)
NORTON: Oh, for Goodness sake. Any second. Any second. Oh, come on!
(The machinery powers down and the vat opens. Andy comes out with a huge gasp)
NORTON: Relax, Andy, listen. Andy, sweetcheeks. Okay, the stuff in your lungs, it’s breathable. It’s biogel.
ANDY: Huh, what?
(Andy coughs up a whole load of the gel)
NORTON: That’s right, better out than in. There we are, soldier. There you go. That’s the windypops over. How are you feeling?
(Andy screams)
NORTON: Oh.
ANDY: That was horrible. Why- why am I not dead?
NORTON: Ah.
ANDY: That was the worst experience of my life.
NORTON: Come along, man up. Get out of the vat.
ANDY: But how did you stop it?
NORTON: I didn’t. Come on, lallies on the floor. There we go. Bit wobbly.
ANDY: Okay okay, I’m okay. But I’m still baffled, why am I alive?
NORTON: Well, the, er, body factory is clever. It may not be working correctly, but at least it tried. It realised the vat was occupied, so it scanned you rather than killing you.
ANDY: Brilliant. Wait, scanned me? Scanned me for what?
NORTON: Ah.
(There is a banging from inside another vat)
ANDY: Oh my God, it’s cloned me. It’s gone and cloned me. Quick, we’ve gotta get him out.
NORTON: No. No, we haven’t.
ANDY: What?
NORTON: This whole set-up not’s working properly, you saw that creature.
ANDY: No! I’m getting you out of here!
NORTON: Listen to me, you can’t open the vats. Whatever’s in there, you can’t let them out. Sorry, but you can’t.
(Andy has been trying to open up a vat)
ANDY: Please, help me get him out.
NORTON: Fine. There’s a big red switch over there, but Andy you really don’t want to.
ANDY: Oh my God. This place is horrible. It is sick.
(Andy walks away to find the button)
NORTON: He’s forgotten something.
(Norton finds Andy shivering)
NORTON: Ah, there you are, champ. I’ve been looking all over for you. And here you are in the attic.
ANDY: I’m cold.
NORTON: Yah. Sorry about all this.
ANDY: I just wanna go home.
NORTON: Don’t blame you.
ANDY: What’s going on here is obscene.
NORTON: Someone’s cutting corners and messing around with kit they don’t understand. They’re for the high jump.
ANDY: Yeah. I’m gonna find them and I’m gonna stop this.
NORTON: Good for you. There’s something you’ve forgotten.
ANDY: Oh, yeah?
NORTON: The last survivor of the previous batch?
(The creature comes crashing through the wall)
ANDY: Oh, God.
NORTON: Get up onto the roof.
(Andy begins climbing)
ANDY: Don’t fall, Andy. Don’t fall. Oh, God. It’s really, really high up.
(A creature smashes a wall)
NORTON: Look out! Don’t let it touch you. Keep out of the way.
ANDY: There’s not really anywhere for me to go. Help.
NORTON: Try not to fall off.
ANDY: Really?
NORTON: My word, that is a biggun. Coo!
ANDY: Norton, do you ever say anything helpful? I’m telling you now, this really isn’t the day I had planned.
NORTON: That’s Torchwood for you. Nothing ever goes to plan.
ANDY: If you weren’t a ghost, I, ohhh, I would kill you right now.
(Andy falls and screams. He catches himself on something)
NORTON: Good, Andy, good. Hold onto that guttering. Don’t let go.
ANDY: Not intending to let go.
NORTON: Lovely. Got a good head for heights?
ANDY: Not really, no.
NORTON: Ah, well, too late now. Oh, look. Here comes trouble.
(The creature roars)
NORTON: Oh, that really is grotesque, it’s growing at quite a remarkable rate.
ANDY: You are not helping.
(Some tiles begin to slip off from where Andy is hanging onto)
NORTON: And, whoospie-daisy, butterfingers. Clumsy.
ANDY: This-this guttering is giving way.
NORTON: Two options: land on the creature.
ANDY: No thank you.
NORTON: Or, wait for it, wait for it.
ANDY: Yes.
NORTON: Let the guttering sag just a little more. A little more. Just another inch.
(The guttering sags and Andy lands on solid ground)
NORTON: And there you are on a window sill. Climb in. That’s right, gently. And there you are. Safe.
ANDY: Safe. Safe? ‘Safe,’ he says.
NORTON: See you outside, you charmer, you.
NORTON: Look at this thing, not a pretty site. No, sirree.
ANDY: We have got to find who’s behind this.
NORTON: Oh, you game for that?
ANDY: Yeah, very much so.
NORTON: Splendid. Before we go, quick observation test. Notice any small, unusual alien objects lying around? Little silver disc.
ANDY: No. I had other things on my mind, but, no.
NORTON: Me neither. Nevermind. Well, if you’re ready, we should probably look up Glenn Star on your lovely pocket telephone.
ANDY: It, uh, didn’t survive the vat.
NORTON: Pity.
ANDY: But, I did Google them earlier. They also own a derelict church on the other side of Grangetown.
NORTON: Is that a long way?
ANDY: Bus stop is just over there. Come on.
ANDY: This, uh, this place is quite famous, you know. St Gregs. Pretty much the most haunted church in Cardiff.
NORTON: Haunted? Interesting.
ANDY: Sounds like a case for Torchwood. Also, you should be right at home with ghosts. You can have a little chat.
NORTON: Oh, hardy-ha. You’re perking up.
ANDY: Yeah, a little. Look at the street around us.
NORTON: I’d rather not.
ANDY: As a police officer, you get a feel for a street. Nice place to live, you know, safe to park the car, let the kids play in the road. This, not this street. Shops boarded up, gardens growing sofas, get the feeling the sun never shines here.
NORTON: Right little Miss Butlins, aren’t we?
ANDY: Also, we are being watched.
NORTON: There’s no one on the street.
ANDY: Even so, I know. All of which combines to tell me that we are standing outside a church and we really really should not go in.
NORTON: And?
(Andy opens the church door)
ANDY: We go in.
NORTON: Not locked. No ‘keep out’ signs.
ANDY: They don’t need them. It’s so cold, the homeless aren’t gonna kip in here. Fixtures and fittings flogged off long ago. Couple of water damaged pews left, look. Yep, one wet book and some tatty old cushions for kneeling. Kneeling cushion?
NORTON: Passaics(?), and that’s the Book of Common Prayer.
ANDY: Home sweet home.
NORTON: Actually, I grew up in a church. My father was the vicar. ‘Our Father who art in Heaven.’ I always found that a touch confusing. Mother was forever making those cushions. She sewed and stitched her way through the war. Bit of a waste, really. Bomb fell on the church.
ANDY: I’m sorry.
NORTON: Oh, they were fine. Just seemed a shame after all that sewing. Mind you, she never cared for all those cockneys with greasy trousers. They moved to a lovely parish in the Cotswolds. Must go and visit sometime.
ANDY: Not close?
NORTON: Not particularly, no.
ANDY: They don’t approve of you, uhm-
NORTON: Saving the world from aliens for a living? Let’s go with that. Anyway, my brother, Gerald, was the heir. I’m very much the spare. There’s not much to go boo at us, is there? Ever met a ghost, Sergeant?
ANDY: Present company excepted?
NORTON: Saving my good self, yes. Hotels, theatres, churches, all hotspots for ghouls apparently. Because of the sheer repetition soaking into the building. The bellboy in his bright buttons forever in the corner, ‘to be or not to be’ bellowed up into the cheap seats until it sticks, the same hymn sung over and over and over. (singing) ‘Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.’
(Andy joins in and sings with him)
ANDY/NORTON: ‘That saved a wretch like me.’
NORTON: All balls, of course. Utter balls.
GHOST: How sweet the sound.
NORTON: Holy flaming cow.
ANDY: Fudging fudge.
GHOST: Saved a wretch like me.
NORTON: So much for theory. Can you see anything?
ANDY: No no.
GHOST: I once was lost, now I’m found.
(The walls start cracking around Andy and Norton and they scream)
NORTON: Okay, you’ve proved your point. Stop!
ANDY: Hi there, love. Did you get that dress special? Very nice. Hey, hey hey hey, no, I know you’ve had a rough night out, but it’s gonna be okay. Uhm, my name’s Andy. It’s gonna be fine.
NORTON: Are you nuts?
(The walls stop cracking )
NORTON: Oh.
ANDY: Don’t freak out, it’s all fine. Corrie’s on later. Wow. Actual ghosts. Are you okay?
NORTON: I am terrified. Ironic. But you, you did your thing. Imagine that, an exorcism.
ANDY: Is it really that easy?
NORTON: Not usually, no.
(They continue walking and a group of ghosts start singing)
GHOSTS: ‘Twas grace that taught.(?)
NORTON: That’s a whole crowd.
ANDY: Yep.
GHOSTS: Through many dangers, toils and snares, I have already come.
NORTON: Are we finished? Good.
ANDY: Steady on. Whoa whoa, what-what do you want?
GHOSTS: Flesh and heart, I shall possess.
NORTON: Flaming heart.
GHOSTS: All of life shall see.
NORTON: Come on. Scarper!
ANDY: But-
NORTON: I don’t like them. Crypt!
ANDY: The door’s stuck.
NORTON: Unstick it! Pronto!
(Andy unlocks the door and falls down some stairs. At the top of the stairs, the ghosts are still singing)
ANDY: Fudge it. Ow ow ow.
NORTON: Finished?
ANDY: Shut up. Shut up! Top of those stairs, right, is a whole heap of Hell. Ghosts, actual actual literal ghosts. I mean, I did not five minutes ago believe in ghosts, right, and now they wanna kill me. Not you, me. So, listen, right, you go back up those stairs and you sort this out.
NORTON: I’m sorry?
ANDY: Stairs, up, ghosts, sort, go.
NORTON: Not on your nelly.
ANDY: Today, right, I have been attacked by acid, drilled, drowned, chased by monsters, nearly fallen to my death and now, in the absolute last f-udging straw, ghosts are trying to kill me. So, go upstairs and sort it out.
NORTON: They don’t want me. They want you.
ANDY: I thought I’d made that clear.
NORTON: Shh, shush. Shush.
ANDY: No, listen to me-
NORTON: Zip. Adult doing the talking. They want you. They want a body.
ANDY: Well, that’s pretty clear. Oh, my God.
NORTON: Got there?
ANDY: In the car park eating a Mars bar waiting for you to get back from the loo. Upstairs, a whole crowd of bodyless horrors looking for bodies. In a warehouse, a body factory. In that lorry, goo for making bodies. So, lightbulb moment, as in bing. I’ve turned on a lightbulb. Over there, in the corner of the crypt, under this tarpaulin.
(He rips off some tarpaulin)
NORTON: Some old chairs.
ANDY: Yeah, no, I got it. Uh, under this other tarpaulin.
(He rips off some tarpaulin and Norton whistles)
NORTON: Well, bend me over like it’s VE Day.
ANDY: Is that, or is that not, and I’m no expert, a spaceship?
NORTON: Yes. Well, only a small one. An escape pod. Shall we have a gander?
ANDY: Okay.
NORTON: Well, shift your arse, Professor Quatermass.
(Andy opens up the pod and gets inside)
ANDY: An escape pod. Who for, Mickey Mouse?
NORTON: Don’t mind me, just sticking my head in. Oh, it’s tiny in here.
ANDY: Yeah.
NORTON: And yet there was room enough for the whole crew. What does that tell us? Not an escape pod, a survival pod.
ANDY: Ah, right. You’re gonna have to fill in the science, but kind of a flat-pack version of the crew? DNA samples, instructions for how to build a vat and a jar of gunk or two.
NORTON: More or less spot on.
ANDY: Okay, that was the plan. Right, only didn’t quite work because, good old Welsh boys, this pod fell through your Rift thing, ended up in this crypt or got dragged here from whatever field someone found it in.
NORTON: Glenn Star Developments.
ANDY: Uh-huh, uh-huh. Some bright spark there worked out what it was and thought, well I could follow these instructions or I could go one better.
NORTON: PC Plod, you are kidding me.
ANDY: No, I am not. Never underestimate me. A Welshman’s overconfidence when presented with a simple set of instructions, right. You’re running a small building firm. What’s your biggest ongoing expense? It’s labour, okay. Dim probleme, you can now run off eight strapping Polish plasterers, and heck, while we’re at it, a few copies of that girl you’ve been Snapchatting and why not make a couple of spares of yourself?
NORTON: I could kiss you.
ANDY: Please don’t. It may sound daft, actually, it is completely daft. But, you’ve got to understand the Welsh mind. On the rare occasions when the sun does shine, we will look at it and say, ‘mmm, what’s in that for me?’
NORTON: But, the whole thing. I mean, where- who’s behind this.
ANDY: Norton, no offence, but you are being so Torchwood right now. There’s no conspiracy here. This isn’t the moon landings, this is a man from Barry, probably called Barry, having a go and cocking it up. Of course that body factory was a disaster, three headed rats! Imagine what it did to Barry. We never found the lorry driver.
NORTON: He ran off.
ANDY: Or so someone said. People imagine stuff at accidents, but that’s why the lorry crashed. The driver dissolved.
NORTON: The creature at the warehouse?
ANDY: Another Barry? Or the poor original bugger.
NORTON: Holy crap.
ANDY: Quite.
NORTON: But what about-
ANDY: I’m gonna have to stop you there. I’ve just done some pretty award-winning thinking. I need a breather. Actually, I really fancy a cup of tea.
NORTON: Oh, me too. And a garibaldi.
ANDY: But first, can you go up and explain things to those ghosts?
NORTON: Actually, look at this on the control panel. Doesn’t fit in, does it?
ANDY: No, it is a bit shiny. What is it?
NORTON: That was what I wanted to talk to you about.
GHOSTS: Through many dangers, toils and snares. We have already come.
ANDY: Hello there, can we have a word, please?
(The ghosts continue singing)
NORTON: Oh, here we go.
ANDY: Steady, you lot. Steady now. Please. Right, lovely, thank you. Now, I can see where you’re going with this, all of you, but I found this wired into the dashboard.
NORTON: It’s not a dashboard, it’s the control matrix of a spaceship.
ANDY: I’m gonna stick with dashboard, thank you. Now, this little shiny thing, my friend, Norton here, says it’s projecting you. Wasn’t meant to, probably some idiot tinkering with the settings, yes?
NORTON: Yes.
ANDY: Right.
GHOSTS: Lead me home.
ANDY: Uh-huh, yeah, lead me home indeed. Right, at a guess, this doo-hickey should be projecting just the one of you. You know, a solid, friendly face to greet the locals, learn the language and build new bodies for you. But, that has all gone, pardon me for this, tits up. Instead, we’ve a whole ghostly bunch of you, and you’re all very very cross.
GHOSTS: We’ve been here ten thousand years.
ANDY: Uh-huh, yeah.
GHOSTS:(?) I shall see.
(The walls start cracking again and glass starts smashing)
NORTON: Andy, I think they’re going to try and make the best they can out of you.
(The ghosts continue singing)
ANDY: I’m sure it does, but not today.
(Andy presses a button on the silver disc)
GHOSTS: Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost. Lost.
(They continue singing as their voices get quieter and quieter)
ANDY: Tidy. Shall we go?
NORTON: But, you can’t just-
ANDY: Yes I can, still fancy tea? I could bloody murder a cup.
WAITER: There’s your tea, suagr’s on the side.
ANDY: Thank you. Cheers, ta.
NORTON: There you are.
ANDY: Hi, I would’ve got you a tea, only-
NORTON: No body.
ANDY: Right. Now, this object we found, what did you call it?
NORTON: Well, it’s got a heap of names. The Silas Oblast, The Red Key, The Bad Penny. It was on my checklist to look for today and, well done. Tick, bonus points. Funny thing, isn’t it? Keeps turning up in unlikely places.
ANDY: Like a spaceship dashboard?
NORTON: Not a dashboard.
ANDY: Oh, I know, I know. Red Key, though. That is funny. Not ha-ha funny, just when you get a new car, they give you a key with it. It can’t be copied. But, they also give you a masterkey, one that you can clone new ones from. It’s called the Red Key. Seems appropriate.
NORTON: I guess it does.
ANDY: I’d love to know what that pod thing really was. Was it just the crew of a spaceship or a whole race in there?
NORTON: Outside our remit. I’ve contacted your colleague, Miss Cooper. She’ll sort it all out.
ANDY: Yeah? So, is that it then? My test is over?
NORTON: Yes. Time to make my report.
ANDY: Sure. And I get to go back to my normal life?
NORTON: Yes, you do. But before you do, Andy Davidson, I’d like to shake your hand.
ANDY: Well, you can’t.
NORTON: True. One final trick. The Red Key, touch the setting on the side. Click it two notches.
ANDY: Like, uh, this.
(Andy does what Norton said)
NORTON: Yep. Now, hand it over.
ANDY: How? Like this? But, you’re not- Oh.
NORTON: Solid? I am now. That thing’s functioning as a hard light projector. And, no, no plans to eat your soul. Shall we go?
ANDY: Where?
NORTON: See me make my report. I think it’s time for you to meet Torchwood’s ruling committee.
ANDY: Get away.
NORTON: Dead serious.
NORTON: Ta, and indeed, da.
ANDY: What? This is it? The rulers of Torchwood are here?
NORTON: Well, more or less.
ANDY: Are you having a laugh?
NORTON: Nope.
ANDY: Look, I’m sure if Torchwood really was run from the Bide-a-Wee Care Home on Cathedral Road, Gwen might have let me know.
NORTON: There are some things even Miss Cooper doesn’t talk about. Come on.
ANDY: I don’t get it.
NORTON: Well, Torchwood’s been around a long time but they’ve been using alien technology that’s still far in advance to what you’re used to.
ANDY: Yeah, and never stops showing off about it.
NORTON: You’re about to see an example of it.
ANDY: I’m not convinced. The carpet smells of wee.
NORTON: Since it was created, Torchwood has been hunted. Several times, it has nearly been wiped out.
ANDY: Yeah, I’ve been there for a few of them.
NORTON: Then you’ll know how bad it can get. A while ago they reached an agreement. You could say, they evolved. Torchwood is now run from the Cloud.
ANDY: Uhhh, no, I’m not following, I have to say.
NORTON: Through here, Sergeant. The ruling committee of Torchwood are waiting for you in the TV lounge.
(They step through into the TV lounge)
TV: And 36 million tons of (?) through our channel each year.
(The voice of the TV changes to a monotone voice)
TV: Standing by. Connection is made.
ANDY: This is…
NORTON: Creepy. I love it.
OLD MAN: You are here. How has the mission progressed?
ANDY: Well-
NORTON: I’ll handle this, Andy. It’s gone gangbusters, my dears. Gangbusters!
OLD MAN: We can hear you.
NORTON: Well, isn’t that dolly?
OLD MAN: The illegal clone bank has been stopped?
NORTON: Yes.
OLD MAN: Good.
NORTON: So the experiment is concluded.
OLD MAN: Yes.
ANDY: Do I pass?
NORTON: Not now.
ANDY: I’d just like to say thank you for, uhm, for giving me this opportunity.
NORTON: Andy.
ANDY: But, I’d like to ask a question. If I may.
OLD MAN: Speak.
ANDY: Thank you. Thanks. Just… the rest of it, that’s the interesting thing. Someone was trying to use an alien organism to grow bodies. A body farm.
OLD MAN: Did the process work?
ANDY: No.
OLD MAN: Then that’s all.
ANDY: But, people died. And I need to know- WE need to know who was behind it.
OLD MAN: Why?
ANDY: Because it’s the right thing to do.
OLD MAN: You are correct, policeman. We shall bring them to account. You may go now.
ANDY: I-is that it?
NORTON: Don’t push it, sunshine.
OLD MAN: That is it. You have done well, policeman. The Committee is pleased. Norton, stay a moment.
NORTON: See you outside. Capiche.
ANDY: Right. Thanks you- thank you again. Thank you.
(Andy leaves)
OLD MAN: Norton.
NORTON: Yes?
OLD MAN: You have rescued Object One?
NORTON: I have indeed. I’m wearing it. Suits me, don’t you think?
OLD MAN: Well done. You are finished here.
(Norton leaves)
NORTON: Thanks for waiting. Well done in there.
ANDY: Well, I stood up.
NORTON: That you did.
ANDY: I spoke out.
NORTON: Noted.
ANDY: And Torchwood are… ruled by that. What is it, an alien?
NORTON: Oh, bless. We work for the wildest skies.
ANDY: What does that even mean?
NORTON: What does any of it mean? It’s not like your police top brass.
ANDY: A room full of bumbling horrid old men, I dunno.
NORTON: You’re being flippant again.
ANDY: Some of the stuff I’ve seen. Now I know why Gwen, well, why she doesn’t tell me everything. I’ve seen her make the hardest decisions in the world. Blimey. I couldn’t sleep at night. Sometimes I shake just thinking about what I’ve helped her out with. But, uh, yeah, d-do you think I passed?
NORTON: I really can’t say, I’m just your assessor. I can tell you, they were impressed.
ANDY: I’d love to know the other side of it though. Who’d want a load of new bodies? I mean, that’s far more interesting to me than finding a bit of jewellery.
NORTON: The jewellery’s terribly pretty, though.
ANDY: Yeah yeah yeah, but-
NORTON: Rest assured, the ruling committee will see to it. If they haven’t already. I mean, you have done most of the work, haven’t you?
ANDY: Yeah, I guess I have. That’s cool.
NORTON: Uhm, cool. Yes. You up for me?
ANDY: I dunno, I mean if Gwen wants me to-
NORTON: I’ll let her know.
ANDY: Okay.
NORTON: Don’t, you know, if the assessment doesn’t come out in your favour-
ANDY: Oh.
NORTON: Just saying, IF. Don’t hold it against her.
ANDY: Oh, I won’t. Now I know what she does. Every day. Fudge.
NORTON: We do have swear words in the 1950s, you know. It’s fine, I’ll cope.
ANDY: No, you’re alright.
NORTON: Anyway, better be making tracks.
ANDY: Now you’ve got your body, sure I can’t take you out for a pint or whatever?
NORTON: Cheeky. No, this silver locket, the Bad Penny, it’s needed back in 1953. Running out of time, so to speak.
ANDY: Sorry, I’m keeping you.
NORTON: Oh, don’t worry, petal. Listen, that cafe we met in this morning, be there at the same time tomorrow.
ANDY: Sure.
NORTON: It’s a date. But for now, it’s time for me to walk off into the rain.
ANDY: Norton, thanks.
NORTON: Don’t mention it. Nice work, Andy. Nice. And good luck. I’m rooting for you, cheeky.
ANDY: Thanks for a brilliant day. Brilliant day.
ANDY: And I suppose, what I’m really trying to say is that, well, look I had a great time yesterday. I saved Cardiff, slightly, and did all sorts of amazing things, but, thing is, Gwen, I think I’ve been an idiot. Ah, no, can’t start like that. Oh. Oh, it’s a new phone, Gwen, so I have no idea how to erase voicemail. Oh, don’t be cross with me. Who am I kidding, of course you’ll be cross with me. I’m furious with me. I thought- I just thought that for once I was being the hero, saving the day, proving I could be Torchwood. But the thing is, I wanted it so much and so much of it was so really horrible that I forgot to… well, you know. The sun shone and I forgot to ask ‘what’s in that for me?’ Norton taught me that sometimes when you put your life into a sentence it doesn’t work, so here it goes. Yesterday, a ghost turned up from 1953 to see if I was good enough to join Torchwood. See, it doesn’t quite fit. I know what you work for is crazy, but does Torchwood really answer to smelly codgers in an old folk’s home? Hm? Why would they let me get involved in hunting for a vitally important alien object? And most of all, here’s the real sentence that does not work, will never work. Gwen Cooper would never put my life in danger. She wouldn’t because she’s my friend. Well, she would, but only if the world was absolutely definitely ending. Oh, so there we go. Listen to this message, have a laugh, or come round to shout at me and give me a hug. I’m not brilliant, I’m just nice. Nice people sometimes are idiots. One thing’s for certain, I don’t know who Norton Folgate really was, and he’s certainly never coming through that door. Bye.
(He hangs up the phone)
Hi.
ANDY: Oh my God. Uh, I mean, hello! You’re… you.
JANE: Yes, I am. Are you Andy?
ANDY: Yes, I’m Andy. I stare at you in here every day and-
JANE: I know.
ANDY: Stopping now.
JANE: It’s kind of sweet.
ANDY: Is it?
JANE: Tiny bit stalky.
ANDY: Yeah. Stalky, I knew it was stalky! I mean, noted.
JANE: Anyway, your friend Norton left me a note with a message.
ANDY: What?
JANE: He said I should come over and say hi. Hi, I’m Jane.
ANDY: Hello, Jane.
JANE: And also your friend wanted you to know that everything was going to work out brilliantly.
ANDY: Can I buy you a cup of tea, Jane?
JANE: That’d be nice.
ANDY: No, that’d be brilliant.