Teletubbies: The Thing

Screenplay draft

In the pastel hills of Teletubby Land the four friends still rose each morning to the sun-baby’s giggle, its face a round pink coin above the dome. Tinky Winky fetched the scooters, Dipsy watered the periscope flowers that swiveled to watch them, Laa-Laa stacked the tubby toast slices, and Po ran the custard machine until the pink sludge rose in warm bubbles. After the toast ceremony they linked hands for the big hug, antennas blinking in perfect time, then napped inside the dome while Noo-noo’s brushes whispered across the floor.

The morning after the ceremony one set of footprints failed to appear in the dew. Po noticed first. She counted the small depressions leading from the toaster to the custard pipe and saw only three. Dipsy stood at the threshold, antenna straight, eyes open, yet his chest rose once every three seconds instead of two. When Laa-Laa offered the morning song he hummed the second note a quarter-tone flat. The periscope flowers nearest him retracted without a sound.

They performed the toast ritual anyway. Four slices dropped, but the one in front of Dipsy stayed pale while the others browned. Noo-noo rolled forward, hose extended, and sucked the untoasted bread whole, then lingered, motor idling, as if tasting something richer. Dipsy smiled the same wide smile and suggested they play ring-a-ring. During the dance his feet never left the grass.

By midday the sun-baby’s eyes had narrowed to slits. Tinky Winky tried the big hug. Dipsy’s arms closed around him and stayed closed a beat too long; when they parted a faint purple thread clung to Dipsy’s sleeve before sliding back beneath green fur. Laa-Laa saw it and said nothing. That evening Noo-noo found a single antenna segment behind the custard machine and swallowed it without the usual cheerful beep.

Suspicion moved like custard through a blocked pipe. They stopped holding hands during the song. Po began counting blinks. Laa-Laa kept one hand on the toaster lever. When Dipsy offered to fetch more custard, Tinky Winky blocked the pipe with his body and asked why the flowers no longer turned toward him. Dipsy answered in Laa-Laa’s voice for half a sentence before correcting himself. Noo-noo’s hose twitched toward the nearest ankle.

Midday the sun-baby stopped giggling altogether. Its face hung gray above the dome. Inside, the four sat in their usual chairs yet each watched the steam rising from the others’ heads. Po reached for the toast button; Dipsy’s arm stretched, joints sliding under the fabric, and pinned her wrist to the table. The arm withdrew, smooth again, but the red fur on Po’s wrist stayed white at the roots. Tinky Winky lunged with the scooter and drove its wheel into Dipsy’s middle. The wheel sank, met no resistance, then struck something hard that clicked like plastic. Dipsy’s mouth opened wider than a tubby mouth should and issued the off-key note at full volume.

Noo-noo attacked the spill. Its hose found the gap in Dipsy’s middle and drew out a length of glistening tubing that had never belonged to any of them. The thing that had worn Dipsy peeled its own head back like a hood; beneath it pulsed a single wet antenna that tasted the air. Tinky Winky, Laa-Laa, and Po ran for the dome door while the vacuum’s motor rose to a scream.

They barricaded the entrance with the custard machine. Through the periscope flowers they watched the thing imitate Laa-Laa’s hop, then Tinky Winky’s slow walk, testing each shape against the others. At dusk the sun-baby’s face was only a pale disk. Inside the dome the three survivors stopped speaking; any voice might be the thing learning their tones. Po disassembled the toaster and wired its heating element to the scooter battery. Laa-Laa kept one hand inside the custard pipe, ready to flood the floor. Tinky Winky counted his own blinks in the reflection of a spoon.

When the door finally gave, the thing entered wearing Tinky Winky’s exact posture. Po triggered the heating element; the wire lashed across the false purple belly and the shape split, revealing a mass of stolen fur and tubing that thrashed toward the custard pipe. Laa-Laa opened the valve. Pink sludge poured across the floor, slowing the mass but not stopping it. The real Tinky Winky stepped from behind the machine and drove the scooter wheel into the exposed antenna cluster. The wheel ground once, twice, then locked. The mass collapsed into the spreading custard and stopped moving.

Outside, the sun-baby’s face remained gray. Inside the dome three small figures stood ankle-deep in pink. Noo-noo rolled forward on its last charge, hose dragging, and began to suck the mixture. One of the three figures hummed the second note of the morning song, exactly on pitch. The other two turned their heads in unison. The vacuum’s brushes whispered across the floor, erasing every footprint as it went.