Exterminate All Humans

I once met a Dalek in WH Smith.

Let me preface this by saying, when I was about three years old, only two things terrified me.  Turning into a chicken while I was asleep, and Daleks. 

That was it.

The chicken thing, I believe I’ve told you all before, was down to my granddad, who bought me a bright red Timex watch for my birthday, then told me in a hushed tone, sort of like the kid in The Sixth Sense when he’s telling Bruce Willis that he sees dead people, that I had to remember to take the watch off when I went to sleep or I would turn into a chicken during the night. 

Yeah, you laugh now, but when you’re three that’s some scary shit.   Adults think it’s funny pranking little kids, but man, we’re gullible.  You’re damaging us for life, fuckers!

Anyway, the only thing more terrifying than turning into a chicken in my sleep was Daleks, because well…you didn’t grow up in the UK and not have an ingrown terror of Daleks instilled in you from an early age.  In fact, you got handed that the second you squeezed out of the birth canal covered in goo, along with your National Insurance number and a Cadbury’s addiction. 

Daleks had been terrifying British kids since before I was born.  It was tradition! 

If you didn’t spend your entire childhood living in abject terror at the possibility of a Dalek attack, you were probably retarded and thinking about rainbows or your toes or some other nonsense.

Everyone fears Daleks.  It’s the British way.

I was fascinated by them and terrified, simultaneously.  They could just wheel on into a room, speak in a terrifying robotic monotone, then exterminate anyone in their sight.  It was a constant threat. That’s a lot for a three year old to comprehend, let me tell you. 

And to make matters worth we had one in our house!  Gasp!

OK, so technically it was a paraffin heater with a grill on the front.  The apartment was chilly and in winter my folks would use it to heat the bedroom before putting us to bed.  Except they had to do this covertly because I would not have that fricking thing in the room with me in case it started to talk and threaten me with extermination the second the lights went out.  I was petrified of that damn  heater.  It gave me nightmares. Nightmares of Dalek invasions.  You try being three and explaining to your parents why you’re terrified of a fucking oil heater. 

Strangely enough, back when I was living in England, I met a real Dalek.

He was in WH Smiths in Nottingham one busy Saturday morning and I was completely unprepared and unaware. I was innocently leafing through some magazine I had no intention of buying, when something prodded me square in the back and loudly, in that familiar robotic monotone, commanded. “PUT. THAT. DOWN.”

It was one of those moments when time stood still.  When pooping your pants was a very real possibility.

The Daleks had finally found me.  And I was way too young to die. 

When I turned around there was a full sized, silver and blue Dalek, looking right back at me.  I fell back against the magazine rack.  I mean what do you do when your nightmares come to life in front of you?

Me, I grabbed my camera out of my bag and tried to take its picture, but it rolled right back up to me and shrieked, “YOU. WILL. ASK. MY. PERMISS-ION.” 

Holy fuck.  Yes, Sir.  You don’t mess with Daleks, ever.  You just don’t.  Not if you want to live.

After he graciously allowed me to take his picture, I handed my camera to some old guy lurking nearby, who took a photo of me with the Dalek, while I tried to avoid Senor Dalek’s dangerous plunger of death. 

The old guy fiddled with the camera for a moment and the Dalek got impatient.  “HURRY. UP. OR. YOU. WILL. BE. EXERMINATED.” it told him, sounding frighteningly excited. 

So yeah.  That’s how I met a real life Dalek.  And lived to tell the tale.  What he was doing in a busy store on a Saturday morning I have no idea.  Buying some overpriced back-to-school supplies maybe? Who knows? I have a sneaking suspicion the imminent release of a brand new Doctor Who video box set might have had something to do with it, but just maybe it was an actual invasion.
 

And I was totally there.