DID you see them? Those poor, grotesque creatures, faces distorted in pain, lips swollen, skin cracked and water gushing out of every orifice as they hauled themselves out of dark, gloomy passages.

No, not Katie Price and Kim Woodburn on I’m a Celebrity... Get Me Out of Here! (ITV1 every night, 9pm), I’m talking about the liquid-spewing space guys in the stupidly enjoyable one-off special, Doctor Who: The Waters of Mars (Sunday, BBC1, 7.30pm), in which David Tennant as the Doctor did amazing things with his sonic screwdriver, while also doing lots of really good running away from some seriously badass baddies in a bid to help save his bessie mate, planet Earth – again.

Yes, this was classic Who.

The big budget, the huge sets, the serious thesp (Lindsay Duncan was super cool as Captain Adelaide Brook, adventure heroine and boss of a big shiny space-station on Mars), the great writing, the monsters and, above all, the silliness.

That’s what makes this show so huge, that perfect blend of intelligent scripts that respect us viewers and a crater-sized dollop of daftness, mainly in the shape of the good Doctor.

Everyone has their favourite Doc, it’s a generational thing mainly, but it’s hard to find anyone who doesn’t agree that Tennant is up there with the very best of them; he has that crucial whiff of possible insanity about him that Tom Baker had in abundance and that Christopher Eccelston hinted at having during his brief but brilliant stint as the world-famous travelling timelord.

When Tennant’s doing sad, it’s as if there is a big black dog moment waiting in the wings; when he does happy, it’s often bordering on the hysterical and when he’s being angry, you sense he could actually go psycho.

And in a world of super-fussy, over-entertained, hard-to-impress, mega-critical audiences, the lanky geek in the brown suit and huge coat is very, very cool.

Just check out his fan base if you don’t believe me.

Which is all rather distracting really, because he’s so perfect for the role that while he was doing that great Sigourney Weaver in Alien impression in this latest dark, apocalyptic tale, all I could think of was what on Galifrey will it be like when he dies – sorry, regenerates – a few specials down the line, something that was referred to relentlessly in this latest episode, just so we’re all prepared.

But in fairness to Matt Smith, the actor with the massive task of being accepted as the new Who, he seems a little bit bonkers as well. Yay!

And he’s got the hair. Double yay!

Think Troughton, Baker, Pertwee, Tennant.

All of them have/had barnets that are like small galaxies in their own right and the 26-year-old Smith has too.

So, we’ve already got the mad-eyed stare and the crazy hair.

By jove, the franchise might just be safe after all.

And it’s not really the end anyway.

Dreamland, a new six-part animation that looks a lot like a computer game (all hail the geeks!) begins tomorrow, starring Tennant as the Doctor.

You can watch every episode on Red Button and the BBC’s website.

Still on the subject of scary things, can we talk about Kim Woodburning-Stove?

Forget the rats, the spiders, the bitey things and even Jordan’s petrifying dog muzzle-mouth, it’s Kim that makes me want to dive for safety behind the sofa.

Like some ghastly, bad drag artist/Carry On matron hybrid, she thunders about the camp, lips pursed like a chicken’s bum, gurning, forcing everyone to talk about her “boobies” and going: “Oh, no luvvie, oh dear, luvvie,” to anything stupid enough to make eye contact with her.

I warn you, if we are not careful this woman could win.

She is incredibly determined and ambitious and the dirty, slimy, scummy things she’s surrounded by don’t frighten her one little bit.

And as for the jungle creatures, she’s not scared of them either. See what I did there?

Bushtucker trials are like nectar to this queen bee. In that glass coffin of rats and hordes of other unpleasant snapping, nibbling things, she merely went into her own personal idea of full comedy mode, Norman Wisdom trapped in the body of Hattie Jacques, and started yelling about her bloody boobies – again!

It was about as funny as an insurance renewal reminder.

And I can’t believe I’m saying this, but our only hope is Jordan, for when the deranged glamour model flounced into Camp Desperado, Kim’s face was like thunder.

Talk about a bulldog chewing a wasp – furious she was, at suddenly not being the centre of attention, luvvie. Long may it last and please don’t make her the one you always vote for to do trials.

I know that means we’ll probably end up with the Jordan Show for a while, but that amazing performing pout is at least fun to watch.