|
Hi folks! It's been a long, long time since I was posting on this group, but I had some rare time off the other week and, for whatever reason, I spent a bit of it polishing off my ever-so-slightly-silly TDF piece, a non-stop riot of action movie referencing and mickey-taking. Anyone who can spot every single reference in this rollicking tale will get a lollipop. Apologies for any formatting errors, it really has been a VERY long time... Prologue The karaoke night was not going well. The sixth Doctor had insisted on performing, despite the fact that the author couldn't be bothered writing any filks. He was currently staggering around the small stage singing Any Dream Will Do, raising his voice even further whenever he came to a bit about his coat. Behind the bar, Adric was getting an ear-bashing from all the other regulars for breaking the House rule about not serving the sixth Doctor ten pints of Fox's Nob on karaoke nights. "With golden LIIINNNNNNNNing. Ahahahhh. BRIGHT COLOURS sheeiining. Aahaaah." "I've never heard that!" the Alzarian protested, almost in tears. He felt a light touch on his shoulder and turned to see Sgloomi Po bouncing around in a state of some agitation and waving the list of House rules. At the bottom, in crayon, was written. "Is bad form make pretend-sing Doc tiddly-squiffy. Is much naughty." Adric's heart sank. His lip began to quiver when he saw a short figure in brown weaving through the crowd of angry Doctors and UNIT troops towards him. "It might be your shift, weasel, but I don't think they'll object this time," said Nyssa with a nasty smile. The fifth Doctor looked alarmed as she started rummaging in her Sean the Sheep rucksack. "Nyssa, don't do anything hasty," he murmured, before blanching under her stare. He hastily corrected himself. "I mean, under the circumstances, you could at least let us hold him down for you." "To see for certain. What I thought I knew." Everyone in the bar turned and groaned with dismay as the sixth Doctor began again. When they turned back again, something was wrong. Nyssa was getting up from the floor, a red mark swelling on her jaw where she had been punched. Adric was rubbing the knuckles of one hand against his green trousers, while training Nyssa's own gun on her with the other. "Young man," began the third Doctor, shocked. Adric sneered, his aim unwavering. "Young? For god's sake, I'm nearly forty! I've been wearing this damn wig for nearly twenty years, just so the Bohemian and Romana could pretend we were a normal family!" He gestured with his free hand at the couple, who decided to beat a hasty retreat upstairs. Nyssa stared down the barrel of the gun, and raised her hands. For one moment, their eyes met. Then Adric shot her hand. "You're barred, bitch! Now get out, and take your hand with you!" He began to laugh as Nyssa lay curled around her shattered limb, sobbing. He laughed until Sgloomi interrupted him. "Is not rule. All pretend-acting characters is using nice hostelry for chit-chatty vignettes, drinkies and much jiggy-jiggy." Adric stopped, and considered. Then reached a decision. "Fine. Then I'll leave." He dropped his apron on Nyssa and then jogged out of the door. The crowd parted before him, quite quickly. The fifth Doctor dropped to Nyssa's side and examined her hand. The bone was shattered, but at least the bullet had passed straight through (in fact the slug had carried on to take out the microphone, but the sixth Doctor was just singing louder, so no one had noticed). He bandaged the hand with some of the frills from the third Doctor's shirt. Then he smiled. "Soon be good as new, I expect. Now," he indicated the apron, "it looks like it's your shift. Ten pints of Fox's Nob, please." * * * Later, Nyssa slipped away from the pub as two Doctors, Peri and most of UNIT caroused their way through a filk of Richard O'Brien's Timewarp. She found a Harley in the car park. Adric had left his star badge pinned to the apron. She slipped it between the handlebars. With this injury, she might never synthesise a cure for a space plague again. She still had the Sean the Sheep rucksack full of weapons, however. She would be needing them. "I remember, doing the Timelash! Grabbing that tinsel when." She started the bike, and slipped into the maze of country lanes around the pub. Away she rode. No luck. No hope. No love. Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five
Back to E
|