Competition Night.

by Clive May (clive@cj4386.demon.co.uk)

Tyler Dion is the Landlord of the This Time Round; and I've snuck in without
permission.

Dr Who is copyrighted to the BBC.


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The crowd of Doctors and companions packing the bar of the This Time Round
parted, to form an avenue to the exit. The two para medics hoisted the
stretcher none too gently and made for the doors. They were glad to get out
of this crazy place - there was something definitely weird about the pub's
clientele.

As they were maneuvering the body through the doors, Nyssa stepped up and
aimed a savage kick at the lolling blood spattered head as a parting shot.

The doors closed behind the sad little procession. Instantly, all
attention was turned to the bar. First up was the first Doctor. He
produced a piece of paper from a waistcoat pocket with a flourish.

"Ah, Chesterton, my boy," he addressed Ace (who was serving just then). "I
think you'll find that I've got the winning ticket."

Ace took the ticket, studied what was written on it and screwed it up.
"Sorry, Prof. This is the strychnine in the Sasparalla. Pretty powerful
stuff; but I've never seen it do that to the boy before." Ace produced her
own ticket. "I'd say, by the state of those injuries...a couple of cans of
Nitro 9..."

"Nonsense!" exclaimed the Sixth Doctor. "It was my fiendish fishing hook
trap..."

An umbrella cracked down on his blond curls. "Now, hold on a moment..."

However, the Seventh Doc's bid to claim the prize was choked off by a long
scarf around his throat.

"Actually," pointed out the Fourth Doctor. "I think you'll find it was the
booby trapped Key to Time segment that did for the little creep."

Just then Romana came scampering into the bar holding up an irregular
shaped lump of crystal.

"Doctor! I've found that missing segment! Aarrgh!"

A booted foot was stuck between her ankles. She pitched forward. Ace
opened the door to the back room; Romana skidded through, still clutching
the segment. Ace shut the door, counted to three. A loud explosion rocked
the bar. Ace reached out, took the Fourth Doctor's ticket, and tore it up.
"Fraid not Doc - who's next?"


"Oy!" yelled Leela, jumping up and down at the back of the crowd and waving
a ticket. "What about my Janis thorns..."

There came the sound of a recorder being applied smartly to exposed skin
and a yell from somewhere in the jostling throng of Doctors and companions.
In a shadowy corner, the Master relaxed back in his chair. He sipped his
Gin and Bitters appreciatively. A satanic smile played on his lips. The
recorders were already in play - the sonic screwdrivers wouldn't be long ,
not to mention the Janis Thorns and Nitro 9. They would start flying in a
moment. The Master always found Sweepstakes night at the This Time Round
entertaining.


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In another place...

Adric finished counting the wad of notes. With scrupulous fairness, he
divided it in two and handed the second bundle to the other Adric.

"Here," he said, "this scam to fix the Kill the Little Swine Sweepstakes,
was a great idea - we'll make a killing!"

"Actually," said the other Adric, "I'm the one who is going to make a
killing."

So saying, the other Adric lifted an arm, which blurred into a Zulu war
club. With bone crushing force, Kameleon brought the lump of black wood
down on Adric's head. There was a very satisfying crack. The arm blurred
back into a hand. Kameleon leaned over the broken corpse and prized the
rest of the notes from the dead hand.

"Punch card please?"

Kameleon started and spun round. A robed skeleton stood there holding out
an insistent bony claw.

"Come along, boy, Punch card if you please. You're not the only one dying
today, you know."

"But...But I haven't got a punch card!"

"In that case," the figure said, "Come along..."

"NO! WAIT!" Kameleon cried in terror. "There's been some sort of
mistake!..."

"I DO NOT make mistakes," the other retorted huffily. "Now! Come along!"

Adric sat up, slipped the punch card into a back pocket, and began to
gather up the notes.