User blog:Pinguinus/2, 000th Edit!

Hello, Doctor Who Fanon Wiki! This blog post is in celebration of my 2, 000th edit on the wiki. I just wanted to take this as an opportunity to thank everyone for reviewing my work, asking my opinion, and otherwise causing me to edit and so reach this number.

In addition, I did something I've been meaning to do for a while now, brought to the front of my memory by Rascalinc's blog post suggesting a wiki-wide novelization project. To demonstrate the concept (and also simply because I love these scenes) I've rewritten three scenes from the revived series of Doctor Who, one for each Doctor. This is my idea of how a novelization on the wiki might look, so comment away. :)

The Ninth Doctor (Christopher Eccleston)
Excerpt from Dalek, by Robert Shearman.

The Doctor was feeling a bit disgruntled as he walked into a dark, dusty room. An awful stench was in the air, as if someone had been soldering metal recently. The door behind him swung shut and locked with a clang.

There was definitely a shape of some kind in the center of the room--that would be the "Metaltron", he supposed.

"Look, I'm sorry about this," he called out into the darkness. "Mr. Van Statten might think he's clever, but never mind him. I've come to help. I'm the Doctor."

He stood there, waiting for a response. Most species had something to say about the name he'd given, and hopefully this would be one of the nicer-

"DOC-TOR."

Two lights had flashed in the darkness, in unison with the cold high voice. The Doctor stared blankly.

"...Impossible."

The lights flashed again as the impossible voice rose to a shout.

"THE DOC-TOR?!"

The lights finally came on, confirming the nightmare. A shape long gone from the universe, its sickening gold plating obscured by dust and bound by chains. A still blue light at the end of an eyestalk was focused on its ancient enemy, glaring in hatred.

"EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

The Doctor was already banging at the door, shouting for release. How could it be here, why was it here? This had to be some sort of nightmare...

This was the end. The Doctor turned around to face the creature, expecting that hair-raising blasting sound any second.

"YOU ARE AN ENE-MY OF THE DALEKS! YOU MUST BE DESTROYED!"

Its gunstick, one of the most feared objects in the universe, twitched in comedic ineffectiveness. The Doctor started to laugh uncontrollably in relief. "Fantastic! Oh, fantastic! Powerless! Look at you, the great space dustbin! How does it feel?"

"KEEP BACK!"

The Doctor strode across the room, staring inches away from the single blue eye. "What for? What're you going to do to me? If you can't kill, what are you good for, Dalek? What's the point of you? You're nothing."

The Doctor was still laughing as he ranted. "What the hell are you here for?"

"I AM WAITING FOR OR-DERS."

"What does that mean?"

"I AM A SOL-DIER. I WAS BRED TO RECIEVE OR-DERS."

The Doctor gave the dusty pepperpot a sick smile. "Well you're never going to get any. Not ever."

"I DE-MAND OR-DERS!"

The Doctor laughed. "They're never going to come. Your race is dead! You all burned, all of you. Ten million ships on fire. The entire Dalek race wiped out in one second."

He watched with some satisfaction as the Dalek's eye grew wide with dread and shock. "YOU LIE!" It shouted hopefully.

"Oh, I watched it happen. I made it happen!" He shouted this into the blue light, before stepping away towards the corner of the room.

The Dalek was still slow in understanding. "YOU DESTROYED US?" it asked in disbelief.

The Doctor was silent for a moment. It hadn't been that long ago. Not long ago, the man who hadn't been the Doctor had ended the War. All those ships burning...

"I had no choice," he said softly. In the name of peace and sanity, he thought to himself.

His enemy was still asking questions. "WHAT OF THE TIME LORDS?"

"Dead. They burned with you." Memories began to pile in his head. The Horde of Travesties. The storming of the Cruciform.

"The end of the Last Great Time War. Everyone lost." The jaws of the Nightmare Child. The Fall of Arcadia. The Moment's interface that kind of looked like-

"AND THE COW-ARD SURVIVED."

The Doctor chuckled mirthlessly. "Oh, and I got your signal. 'Help me.' Poor little thing. But there's no one else coming 'cause there's no one left."

"I AM ALONE IN THE UN-I-VERSE," the Dalek croaked in its mechanical voice.

"Yep," replied the Doctor.

"SO ARE YOU. WE ARE THE SAME."

Rage suddenly flared in the last Time Lord. How dare the miserable trashcan compare the two of them?

"We're not the same! I'm not-" The Doctor's rage suddenly dimmed as an altogether more sinister smile spread across his face.

"No, wait. Maybe we are. You're right. Yeah, OK. You have a point."

His eyes darted to a lever sticking out of a wall.

"'Cause I know what to do. I know what should happen. I know what you deserve."

His smile grew wide and crazed, but the Doctor didn't care at this point. One last Dalek survived... but he could fix that. He pulled the lever on the wall.

"Exterminate," he said.

The Dalek screamed.

The Tenth Doctor (David Tennant)
Excerpt from The Christmas Invasion by Russel T. Davies.

The translator's voice trembled as he read out loud the text on his computer screen.

" We are the Sycorax, we stride the darkness. Next to us you are but a wailing child. If you are the best your planet can offer as a champion, then your world will be gutted..."

The alien leader continued his speech through his blood-red lips. "And your people enslaved."

The translator scratched his head as he stared from the computer screen to the alien. "Hold on, that's English."

Harriet Jones, standing near a number of armored Sycorax, looked puzzled. "He's talking English," she said simppy.

Rose Tyler looked at the creature curiously. "You're talking English," she said, not sure whether it was a question or not.

"I would never dirty my tongue with your primitive bile," snarled the Sycorax leader.

"That's English," continued Rose, hope welling up within her.

"Definitely English," replied the translator, staring at the screen in disbelief. The Sycorax leader was staring angrily at the four humans.

"I speak only Sycoraxic!"

Rose went on. "If I can hear English, then it's being translated. Which means it's working. Which means..."

In unison, the four humans turned to face the blue police public call box standing in the middle if the invading starship. The doors dramatically swung open, and a handsome man in his pajamas stepped out.

The Doctor smirked. "Did you miss me?"

Angrily, the Sycorax leader raised his fist, striking towards the Doctor with a glowing whip seemingly crafted from lightning. It flashed through the air-

-and was caught at the end by the Doctor, who pulled it from the Sycorax's hand with an exasperated sigh. "You coukd have someone's eye out with that," he said reproachfully.

The leader's eyes grew wide and filled with outrage. "How dare..."

The Doctor interrupted him by grabbing a guards club and snapping it over his knee. "You just can't take the staff. Now, you, just wait. I'm busy."

Turning his back on the alien warlord, the Doctor turned to face his human friends. "Mickey, hello! And Harriet Jones MP for Flydale North. Blimey, it's like This Is Your Life."

Rose and the others continued to stare at him, amazed and confused all at once.

The Doctor smiled again. "Tea! That's all I needed, a good cup of tea! Superheated infusion of free radicals and tannin. Just the thing for healing the synapses. Now, first thing's first--"

He turned to face Rose. "Be honest. How do I look?"

Rose looked at him for a moment, trying to focus. "Er, different "

"Good different or bad different?"

"Just... different."

The Doctor's voice grew still and solemn. "Am I ginger?"

"No," Rose replied slowly. "You're just sort of... brown."

The Doctor stepped away, seeming more upset about his hair color than he had been about the Sycorax's attempt on his life. "I wanted to be ginger," he whined. "I've never been ginger. And you, Rose Tyler!"

He pointed at his companion, showing a hint of irritation. "Fat lot of good you were. You gave up on me." He paused, and looked self-contemplating for a moment.

"Oh, that's rude," he said, "That's the sort of man I am now, am I? Rude. Rude and not ginger."

Harriet Jones seemed to be having trouble processing everything.

"I'm sorry," she asked, "Who is this?"

"I'm the Doctor," replied the man in pajamas. Rose repeated it. "He's the Doctor."

"But what happened to my Doctor?" pressed Harriet. "Or is it a title that's just passed on?"

The Doctor swaggered over to her. "I'm him. I'm literally him. Same man, new face. Well, new everything."

"But you can't be," she told him flatly.

The Doctor stared into the Prime Minister's eyes. "Harriet Jones, we were trapped in Downing Street and the one thing that scared you wasn't the aliens, it wasn't the war, it was the thought of your mother being on her own.

"Oh my God," gasped Harriet.

The Doctor smiled. "Did you win the election?"

"Landslide majority," said Harriet enthusiastically, trying to be modest but ultimately failing.

"If I might interupt," growled the Sycorax commander dryly.

"Yes, sorry," replied the Doctor, turning to face him. "Hello, big fellow."

"Who exactly are you," asked the warlord.

"Well, that's the question," said the Doctor with a broad smile.

The Sycorax was shouting at this point. "I demand to know who you are!"

"I don't know!" Responded the Doctor in an exaggeratedly gutteral vouce. "See, there's the thing. I'm the Doctor, but beyond that, I just don't know. I literally do not know who I am. It's untested."

He began to pace back and forth across the ship. "Am I funny? Am I sarcastic? Sexy," he suggested, winking at Rose as she smiled.

As the Sycorax stared, the Doctor continued. "Right old misery? Life and soul? Right handed? Left handed? A gambler? A fighter? A coward? A traitor? A liar? A nervous wreck? I mean, judging by the evidence, I've certainly got a gob."

The Doctor's eyes suddenly narrowed, and focused on the most important button on the planet. "And how am I going to react when I see this?" He walked over, standing right over it. "A great big threatening button which must not be pressed under any circumstances, am I right? Let me guess, it's some sort of control matrix, hmm? Hold on, what's feeding it?"

He suddenly squatted, opening up a panel at the base of the device.

"And what've we got here? Blood?" Unexpectedly, he dipped his finger into a bit of red liquid inside the device, and put it in his mouth. "Yeah, definitely blood. Human blood. A Positive, with just a dash of iron." He grimaced, as if he didn't like the taste.

The Doctor thought for a moment. "Ah, but that means blood control. Blood control! I haven't seen blood control in years." Smiling as if he'd found some fascinating trinket, he stood up to face the Sycorax leader.

"You're controlling all the A Positives. Which leaves us with a great big stinking problem. Because I really don't know who I am. I don't know when to stop. So if I see a great big threatening button which should never, ever, ever be pressed, then I just want to do this."

With a crazed grin broad across his face, he suddenly slammed his hand down onto the big, red, threatening button.

The four humans were not amused.

The Eleventh Doctor (Matt Smith)
Excerpt from The Pandorica Opens, by Steven Moffat.

Above Stonehenge was a fleet of starships, hundreds of shining hulks of light and metal criss-crossing the sky as they waited to see who would make the first move.

River Song--who was definitely not Cleopatra, despite what she said--watched the commotion from atop a white horse. Solemnly she took out her communicator and called her husband. "You're surrounded. Have you got a plan?"

Underneath Stonehenge, a young man in a tweed jacket and a bow tie was on the floor, tinkering with an enormous black box. "Yes. Now hurry up and get the TARDIS here, I need equipment," he said, hopping up and pocketing his communicator. He started to leave the room, but paused for a moment to contemplate the Pandorica.

An enormous black cube, covered in locks and symbols and bits of metal that weren't from Earth. An odd green light seemed to issue from within it. The Doctor looked at it closely, trying to think things through. "What are you?," he muttered to himself. "They're all here, all of them, all for you. What could you possibly be?"

Above, the ships were getting lower and lower, seeming as if they'd try to land any second. The gathered Romans were tense, standing back to back with their swords drawn.

As one of the low-flying Cyberman ships came a little close, a voice began to echo throughout the monument.

"Sorry, sorry, I dropped it," said the voice, "Hello Stonehenge! Who takes the Pandorica, takes the universe, but, bad news everyone..."

The Doctor, grinning crazily with a microphone by his face, hopped onto a large stone. "Because guess who? Ha!"

The assembled fleet began to grow more frenzied, detailing into attack formations as a number of bolder species began to consider their next move.

"Listen you lot," the Doctor said over the sound of roaring spaceships, "You're all whizzing about, it's really very distracting. Could you all just stay still a minute because I AM TALKING!"

The Time Lord's raised voice echoed across the monument, reaching up to probably every ship in sight. The ships stayed still.

Satisfied, the Doctor went on. "The question of the hour is, who's got the Pandorica? Answer, I do. Next question. Who's coming to take it from me?" He raised his arms and spread them wide, not in a friendly gesture like a hug, but as a challenge. There was no response from the ships above.

"Come on! Look at me, no plan, no back up, no weapons worth a damn. Oh, and something else I don't have. Anything, to, lose!" His hands seemed to be moving of their own accord, pointing and waving at the metal behemoths above his head. "So, if you're sitting up there in your silly little spaceship, with all your silly, little guns, and you've got any plans on taking the Pandorica tonight, just remember who's standing in your way! Remember, every black day I ever stopped you, and then, AND THEN! Do the smart thing."

With the barest hint of a smile, he stared directly up at the biggest, toughest, probably Dalek-infested ship in the sky.

"Let somebody else try first."

For a moment, all the fleet seemed to consider these words, before disappearing into the night sky all at once.