Guest blog: Davros
I, Davros, had an appointment to see an ATOS healthcare assessor last week.
“Can I see some id please?” said the man behind the desk.
“I do not carry ID, I am Davros, sworn enemy of the human race – well everyone except Stephen Fry, who is a national treasure …. national… treasure !!!”
“Calm down, Mr Davros.”
“I am calm…. I…. am… calm!! And I am not ‘Mr’ Davros – I am ‘Davros’…. everyone addresses me so, everyone that is except Danny Dyer who calls me ‘fella’… fella!”
Davros has been confined to this chair type-thing for thousands of your earth years – cast your mind back to a time when dinsosaurs roamed the earth and Colin Baker had a size 34 waist. That will give you some kind of an idea exactly how long I’ve been… in… this… chair… in…. this… chair !!
“Mr Davros, can you lift your arm above your head?”
“Davros can lift his arm above his head. Davros can do anything he puts his mind to. Davros is the supreme being !!”
“In that case, Mr Davros I’m ruling you fit to return to work.”
“Curse you ATOS healthcare assessor who’s not quite a doctor….curse….you.”
Davros has been sleeping rough after having his house reposessed after losing his benefits and a bad run on the gee-gees… house re… pose… ssed !!!!
The other night in a dingy backstreet a man asked Davros to do things with him in return for twenty pounds… twenty pounds ! This would never have happened on Skaro, where Davros was pretty much a god.
So Davros has finally collected enough money on the street to have a pint of Bombadier in the Crawley branch of Wetherspoons – Davros is sat next to a man who’s breath smells like Tom Baker’s undercrackers after a night on the Guinness. Night… on… the… Guinness.