When I heard that Carlton wanted to make a new series starring Robson and Gerome, I immediately whipped out my word processor and penned the pilot to a thirteen -part comedy / action / adventure / mystery / romance / thriller series. It was rejected almost straight away. This is yet another further of the conspiracy against unestablished writers. To show I have been unfairly treated, I present for you the synopsis for that pilot. Judge for yourself whether you would rather have seen this than the one Carlton actually made.
Robson and Gerome, loveable rogues, get in a car, sharing a few roguish jokes. They are driving to the orphanage to help them raise money to buy a roof to stop the rain coming in and giving the children pneumonia. They are wise-cracking all the way, and being as loveable and roguish as ever. After a particularly poor joke, the car spins out of control down an embankment, over a cliff and onto the sharp rocks far below, where it bursts into flames.
Robson and Gerome wake up in what looks like a laboratory. They are strapped to benches and wearing only swimming trunks. Their body is covered in scars and bruises. Enter Dr Justice, a manic, homicidal lunatic with a PhD. He proceeds to torture the loveable, roguish pair for the next 25 minutes until they are dead. Then he removes their intestines and dances a jig on them.
THE END.
In future episodes, I saw the Doctor bringing the pair back to life for more torture; feeding their guts to pigeons; and, in my favourite episode, burying them down the end of the garden and spending the next 27 minutes watching Julia Sawahla in the shower.
Carlton told me that this was "not what the paying public wanted to see." I beg to differ.
Peter More 1/8/97.