Post by theretsam on Aug 11, 2015 16:16:23 GMT
Episode 1: The Song of Doom
The place: Columbia Hall, USA
The time: Saturday evening, 1961
Smartly dressed as usual, and fashionably late, the Doctor presented his tickets to the porter. "Good man, would you be so kind as to tell where it's 'at'?" The remark made Liz, his companion for the evening, chuckle; luckily, he didn't notice.
They arrived - after a lengthy toilet break ("Liz, I told you! There's more than enough facilities in the TARDIS!") - at the wardrobe, where they took off their coats and handed them to the employees working there.
"My dear fellow, please don't be so rough with that coat! They don't make them like that anymore, you know."
"I'll say that again, sir!" the employee remarked with a smile. "But it looks just like new!"
The Doctor shrugged off the remark with a "I acquired it only recently", winking at Liz.
Fewer words were exchanged as Liz took off her fur coat (just about the most subtle one in the country, mind) and revealed an elegant emerald dress. The Doctor's eyes followed from Liz handing over the coat to the boy, dwarfed by a smoking jacket several sizes too large, as a vacant look came upon his freckled face. The scene paused for a few seconds, just long enough to become awkward before the Doctor interrupted with a "You look lovely, Liz". In what looked like slow-motion, the boy came back to the real world and took Liz's coat, turning away just a little too quickly and walking all the way to the end of the aisle before hanging the coats on the hangers, blushing.
The two walked towards the main hall, exchanging a few words.
"Easily distracted."
"First day on the job."
"Currently single, I venture."
"Owner's nephew."
"Never kissed a girl yet."
"Won't last long."
"Can't control himself."
"Well, obviously."
"Let's switch the subject."
"Oh, but those chandeliers are impressive!"
They found themselves a table and ordered some exotic-sounding cocktails. Dean Martin was singing. It wasn't long before they met one of the Doctor's old acquaintances: the General W. Bulwark, a stout, middle-aged man with a walrus mustache, and his wife Harriet (a nondescript figure in her fifties). Soon enough a salvo of why-it'ses, if-it-isn't-my-old-friends, I-haven't-seen-you-sinces, do-you-remember-whens, and what-have-you-been-up-tos were fired from the men, and the women were bored out of their skulls trying to follow the story.
Two cigarettes later, Liz pretended to be interested in an act on stage, in an attempt to divert the conversation. Cutting a convenient pause in the conversation, she remarked "I love this song, Doctor, don't you?"
Not that it worked, of course. The Doctor barely noticed, and the women exchanged knowing looks. This could be a long night yet...
Quite suddenly, a big burly man came out of nowhere, and pointed his fat index finger at the Doctor. "YOU!" The Doctor turned around dramatically and let out a "YOU!" that rivaled the first one in size (both a 7.8 on the Steinmann Scale of Exclamations, or a 16.9 using Imperial measurements).
Then, just as Dean Martin was finishing his song, the Doctor received a very sudden and actual kick in the head.
With a loud crash he landed on the table, spilling everyone's drinks.
[CLIFFHANGER STING]
The place: Columbia Hall, USA
The time: Saturday evening, 1961
Smartly dressed as usual, and fashionably late, the Doctor presented his tickets to the porter. "Good man, would you be so kind as to tell where it's 'at'?" The remark made Liz, his companion for the evening, chuckle; luckily, he didn't notice.
They arrived - after a lengthy toilet break ("Liz, I told you! There's more than enough facilities in the TARDIS!") - at the wardrobe, where they took off their coats and handed them to the employees working there.
"My dear fellow, please don't be so rough with that coat! They don't make them like that anymore, you know."
"I'll say that again, sir!" the employee remarked with a smile. "But it looks just like new!"
The Doctor shrugged off the remark with a "I acquired it only recently", winking at Liz.
Fewer words were exchanged as Liz took off her fur coat (just about the most subtle one in the country, mind) and revealed an elegant emerald dress. The Doctor's eyes followed from Liz handing over the coat to the boy, dwarfed by a smoking jacket several sizes too large, as a vacant look came upon his freckled face. The scene paused for a few seconds, just long enough to become awkward before the Doctor interrupted with a "You look lovely, Liz". In what looked like slow-motion, the boy came back to the real world and took Liz's coat, turning away just a little too quickly and walking all the way to the end of the aisle before hanging the coats on the hangers, blushing.
The two walked towards the main hall, exchanging a few words.
"Easily distracted."
"First day on the job."
"Currently single, I venture."
"Owner's nephew."
"Never kissed a girl yet."
"Won't last long."
"Can't control himself."
"Well, obviously."
"Let's switch the subject."
"Oh, but those chandeliers are impressive!"
They found themselves a table and ordered some exotic-sounding cocktails. Dean Martin was singing. It wasn't long before they met one of the Doctor's old acquaintances: the General W. Bulwark, a stout, middle-aged man with a walrus mustache, and his wife Harriet (a nondescript figure in her fifties). Soon enough a salvo of why-it'ses, if-it-isn't-my-old-friends, I-haven't-seen-you-sinces, do-you-remember-whens, and what-have-you-been-up-tos were fired from the men, and the women were bored out of their skulls trying to follow the story.
Two cigarettes later, Liz pretended to be interested in an act on stage, in an attempt to divert the conversation. Cutting a convenient pause in the conversation, she remarked "I love this song, Doctor, don't you?"
Not that it worked, of course. The Doctor barely noticed, and the women exchanged knowing looks. This could be a long night yet...
Quite suddenly, a big burly man came out of nowhere, and pointed his fat index finger at the Doctor. "YOU!" The Doctor turned around dramatically and let out a "YOU!" that rivaled the first one in size (both a 7.8 on the Steinmann Scale of Exclamations, or a 16.9 using Imperial measurements).
Then, just as Dean Martin was finishing his song, the Doctor received a very sudden and actual kick in the head.
With a loud crash he landed on the table, spilling everyone's drinks.
[CLIFFHANGER STING]