Yes, bear with us, don't move off to a more sensible website.
It does bear the question, what do the Daleks do when they're not murdering and invading? Do they have down-time? Do they have a home-life? Hmmmmm.... we both had a think...
Scene i:
(Two Daleks come on from stage right: interior crappy Wetherspoons pub)
(Dalek 1) Jeff: Awright Pete?
(Dalek2) Pete: Yeah, awright Jeff.
Jeff: So, how's the missus Pete?
Pete: (wiggles his eye-stalk) Doing awright thanks mate, y'know... typical wife really. She's a lovely piece of kit, but at the end of the day, she's a Cylon, know wot I mean? And you know how they are.... they just give you grief year in year out... especially as she's old-skool Cylon. Should have hung on for one of those sleek new blonde ones!! But she's got a heart of gold. Literally. With wires and everythink.
Jeff: (wiggles plunger in exasperation) You know, my Pauline, a real goer in the that department, know worramean, but gawd, she's a real Cybernightmare when she goes off on one... "Why aren't you hoovering the stairs, blah blah blah". I hate the bastard that wrote it in that we could hover. I could pretend not to make it to the top landing before that.
Pete: Yeah mate you've got the worst of both worlds there mate...emotionless and a woman.
Jeff: Too right. I bought her a gold necklace the other week. She went mental. Coughing & spluttering everywhere. How was I to remember she's allergic?
(Jeff and Pete both take a moment to dip their plungers into a pitcher of Lager)
Pete: Burrrrp. 'scuse me. Always catches me circuits that does.
Jeff: Y'know...I do wonder sometimes why we do this job. That Davros is always goin' on about 'supremacy' and 'extermination' - but where does it get us?
Pete: Nowhere. Some perks would be nice, other than the obvious job satisfaction of exterminatin'.
Jeff: Job satisfaction? What job satisfaction? I go home mentally tortured after a day of murder destruction and mayhem, "Exterminate this", "Exterminate that"... it's always the bleeding same, century in, century out. I got home the other day and exterminated the cat by accident. It doesn't make socialising any easier either- I always end up killin' potential mates. Remember the Orion curryhouse incident?
Pete: hmm gotta point there son. I do think that Sontaran asked for it though.
Jeff: Yeah. Bloody rugby crowd. Anyway (hushed dalek tone) I think, right, we, that's us two, should form a Union.
Pete: WHHHAAATT??
Jeff: Shhhhhhhhh... yeah mate...a union!
Pete Why would I want to be in a Union?
Jeff: Well... errrr, look at your working hours for a start. For me, after 12 hrs, me laser starts to short circuit due to overuse. Surely its against UEC regulations?
Pete: Hmmmm...
Jeff: AND what about pay?
Pete: Pay would be nice.
Jeff: EXACTLY mate. Davros is there, lording it about, fancy buttons to push and everything, prawn sandwiches, Rigellan wine and what do we get? Not even Luncheon vouchers.
Pete: Errmm...
Jeff: AND it's very well for the fat Emperor to sit on his backside in his fancy spaceship orderin' us about, giving it all that about worshipping him, but who's gonna tell my missus that our two week holiday on the Costa Skaro is cancelled due to another ill prepared "invasion of the planet Earth"??!!
Pete: (sips more lager through his plunger) That'll be you Jeff.
Jeff: Exactly - muggins 'ere. Another wasted two week invasion of Earth, only to be sent packin' by that bloke in that blue box and his latest bit of skirt, when I could be sunning it up by a pool with my Pauline.
Pete: (Pause) I did like the curly haired one though, him with the scarf. He was alright- he gave me a few jelly babies once. Nice bloke.
Jeff: Yeah yeah, I'll give you that. Better than that psycho from Salford last year. He wouldn't give you the time of day.
Pete: Yeah. he just had a hissy fit and started flappin'. His bird had to sort that out.
Pete and Jeff (together): Northern poof.
Pete: She was a bit of awright though.
Jeff: You shouldn't be looking. You newly married and all. But this brings me back to my point. Our working conditions are the worst in the galaxy.
Pete: Such as?
Jeff: Well as I said - no pay, no contracted working hours - and no sick leave. Davros makes you commit hari-kari if you have a sniffle.
Pete: Yeah look at Mike last year. Poor sod.
Jeff: PLUS... plus... (sips more lager, getting more and more loud and drunk) plus...no contract, no bonus pay. No overtime. In fact... no pay at all - supposed to do it for the greater "Supremacy Of The Daleks". Tell that to my bank manager. Didn't help me get that bank loan from him.
Pete: No way... and after you fixed his sink as well. Did you....?
Jeff (burps loudly) Exterminate him? Yeah.
Pete: Fair do's.
Jeff: AND we have to put that stupid voice on. "DO NOT MOOOVE" and so on. Bloody daft in this day and age.
Pete: Yeah. In the 70's, they made me sound like Zippy from Rainbow.
Jeff: He was Davros' brother you know. Still, at least putting that voice on for thirty years helped me lose that Welsh accent. AND that Davros - he ain't so hard & clever y'know. He's crap without wheelchair access. And can he nip into any branch of Halfords for spare parts? Nope.
Pete: He thinks giving us a spray-job of metallic car paint is giving us an upgrade.
Jeff: Exactly mate. Diabolical liberty.
Pete: Although... the missus quite liked it. I was council-house grey before. And I had a kitchen whisk replaced by a proper laser, like. It was a bit of a face lift.
Jeff: I bet she gave you the eye when you came in the house looking like that, eh? Whorrrrrrrr.
Pete: Awww, she loved it- she was bombin' around like KITT off of that Knightrider. Zoom-zoom, zoom-zoom, her little eye went. So romantic.
Jeff: Aww. Lahhhh-vely.
Pete:(looks at watch) Cor blimey, I better get back to her... I only told her I was nipping out to the jetwash for a clean. You know, that old Davvy might think he's the Boss, but we know who the real boss is don't we mate.
Jeff: Bruce Springsteen?
Pete: No you dolt. Her Indoors.
Jeff: Ohhh. Yeah. Do you think the woman behind the bar will let me use the disabled bog?
Exit Left.
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