Post by Cushing4eva on Jan 6, 2017 5:00:48 GMT
Chapter One
Pigbin huddled underneath the defense counsel’s table, his knees pulled up tightly to his chest, desperately trying to calm himself down from the madness all around him. The one with the tea cosy on his head had managed to keep him calm throughout the trial but now he seemed to be friends with the pompous clown which made Pigbin worried.
He hadn’t really followed much of the trial other than the bit where he drank all the Bubblescrump. That had brought back some happy memories. Still, he had been up in front of a magistrate often enough to know when things weren’t going well and, even taking into account the unorthodox nature of the proceedings, he knew that things were looking pretty grim for him.
Glancing around the courtroom he noticed a strange object, tucked into a corner. It looked to be a tall, blue cabinet with writing etched onto the top, just above its doors. At an earlier point in his life Pigbin had been slated to receive something approaching a formal school education but his father, who fervently believed that reading and arithmetic only brought trouble, would frequently withdraw him to go trap game, lift lead off the church roof and generally make trouble throughout the Sussex countryside. As a result the words ‘Police Box’ were completely indecipherable to him.
Still, he noticed that its door was cracked ever so slightly open and he thought to himself that, given things seemed to be heading southwards, it might make a rather clever hiding place until this whole thing blew over.
He peeked over the top of the table and saw that the three figures were all lost in heavy conversation and, after murmuring to himself, he crawled out from under the table and, after letting himself through into the gallery, ducked down behind a row of chairs and began to make his way towards it.
Upon reaching it he gently pushed at the door which swung open with a gentle creak. Taking one more look to make sure he wasn’t seen, he slipped inside and shut the door behind him.
Despite his humble appearance, Pigbin was not unaccustomed to seeing some strange and alien sights. Nonetheless, he was still startled to see that instead of standing within a dingy little box he was actually inside a gleaming, white empty space many times its size.
The room itself seemed to hum with energy and, in its center, Pigbin saw a large, hexagonal object from which protruded a glass column. This initially made him nervous and, for a moment, he entertained the thought of going back outside but Pigbin decided that however strange and unsettling this was, staying inside had to be better than whatever fate awaited him out there.
Slowly he shuffled towards it, gently reaching out a hand to touch it. The console was cold to the touch but vibrated softly which brought back some less happy memories of his debriefing by Owen and Gwen.
The console was covered with an array of brightly colored buttons and switches. This, Pigbin thought, seemed dangerously like science which was yet another subject that his father had instilled in him brought nothing but trouble. Yet, despite his wariness, he found himself reaching out to try manipulating them. Suddenly there was a loud, terrible groaning, much like the sort he found he would emit after jogging or eating too much rum-soaked fruit cake and he found himself shaken from his feet.
The door opened and a tall, thin woman with an explosion of bright, ginger hair and dressed in a bright, gold and green spotted jumpsuit walked in, reading a book about computer coding.
“Thank goodness. I thought I was going to die of boredom sitting here on my own while you were busy holding court.”
At this Mel looked up from her book, clearly expecting to see the Doctor. Instead astonishment dawned on her face, followed by fear,
“Wait - who are you and where’s the Doctor? Did the TARDIS take off without him?”
Mel placed her fists on her hips and looked expectantly at Pigbin who grunted and shuffled back nervously. She took a step towards him but recoiled at the smell of stale urine and chip grease that exuded from Pigbin’s shabby attire.
“Well, I suppose that can wait. You don’t seem to be in any state to answer questions. We need to get you sobered up! You’ll be better for a hot shower, a good scrub and a nice, refreshing glass of prune juice.”
Pigbin uttered a frightened "Fanaarrr" and began to shamble down the corridor, desperate to escape...
Pigbin huddled underneath the defense counsel’s table, his knees pulled up tightly to his chest, desperately trying to calm himself down from the madness all around him. The one with the tea cosy on his head had managed to keep him calm throughout the trial but now he seemed to be friends with the pompous clown which made Pigbin worried.
He hadn’t really followed much of the trial other than the bit where he drank all the Bubblescrump. That had brought back some happy memories. Still, he had been up in front of a magistrate often enough to know when things weren’t going well and, even taking into account the unorthodox nature of the proceedings, he knew that things were looking pretty grim for him.
Glancing around the courtroom he noticed a strange object, tucked into a corner. It looked to be a tall, blue cabinet with writing etched onto the top, just above its doors. At an earlier point in his life Pigbin had been slated to receive something approaching a formal school education but his father, who fervently believed that reading and arithmetic only brought trouble, would frequently withdraw him to go trap game, lift lead off the church roof and generally make trouble throughout the Sussex countryside. As a result the words ‘Police Box’ were completely indecipherable to him.
Still, he noticed that its door was cracked ever so slightly open and he thought to himself that, given things seemed to be heading southwards, it might make a rather clever hiding place until this whole thing blew over.
He peeked over the top of the table and saw that the three figures were all lost in heavy conversation and, after murmuring to himself, he crawled out from under the table and, after letting himself through into the gallery, ducked down behind a row of chairs and began to make his way towards it.
Upon reaching it he gently pushed at the door which swung open with a gentle creak. Taking one more look to make sure he wasn’t seen, he slipped inside and shut the door behind him.
Despite his humble appearance, Pigbin was not unaccustomed to seeing some strange and alien sights. Nonetheless, he was still startled to see that instead of standing within a dingy little box he was actually inside a gleaming, white empty space many times its size.
The room itself seemed to hum with energy and, in its center, Pigbin saw a large, hexagonal object from which protruded a glass column. This initially made him nervous and, for a moment, he entertained the thought of going back outside but Pigbin decided that however strange and unsettling this was, staying inside had to be better than whatever fate awaited him out there.
Slowly he shuffled towards it, gently reaching out a hand to touch it. The console was cold to the touch but vibrated softly which brought back some less happy memories of his debriefing by Owen and Gwen.
The console was covered with an array of brightly colored buttons and switches. This, Pigbin thought, seemed dangerously like science which was yet another subject that his father had instilled in him brought nothing but trouble. Yet, despite his wariness, he found himself reaching out to try manipulating them. Suddenly there was a loud, terrible groaning, much like the sort he found he would emit after jogging or eating too much rum-soaked fruit cake and he found himself shaken from his feet.
The door opened and a tall, thin woman with an explosion of bright, ginger hair and dressed in a bright, gold and green spotted jumpsuit walked in, reading a book about computer coding.
“Thank goodness. I thought I was going to die of boredom sitting here on my own while you were busy holding court.”
At this Mel looked up from her book, clearly expecting to see the Doctor. Instead astonishment dawned on her face, followed by fear,
“Wait - who are you and where’s the Doctor? Did the TARDIS take off without him?”
Mel placed her fists on her hips and looked expectantly at Pigbin who grunted and shuffled back nervously. She took a step towards him but recoiled at the smell of stale urine and chip grease that exuded from Pigbin’s shabby attire.
“Well, I suppose that can wait. You don’t seem to be in any state to answer questions. We need to get you sobered up! You’ll be better for a hot shower, a good scrub and a nice, refreshing glass of prune juice.”
Pigbin uttered a frightened "Fanaarrr" and began to shamble down the corridor, desperate to escape...